Chapter Seven – Isla
Why was she so nervous? Isla wondered as she pulled on her boots. She felt as excited as Percy on a trip to the toy store. When she caught herself smiling in the mirror, she almost laughed. The thought of seeing Kirk’s greenhouse made her oddly happy.
Perhaps it was simply the novelty of it all. How often did a city food critic get to see where specialty chilies were grown?
But she knew it wasn’t just that.
Kirk himself intrigued her. The way he used his hands as he explained the chocolate-making process. The gentle way he’d spoken to Percy, never talking down to him. The pride in his eyes when he described his family’s restaurant.
Isla hadn’t met many men who seemed so comfortable in their own skin, with nothing to prove to anyone.
“Mom!” Percy burst from his bedroom, a whirlwind of mismatched clothes and boundless energy. His blue T-shirt clashed spectacularly with his orange shorts, but at least his socks matched.
“Spike and I are ready to go!” Percy announced proudly.
Isla bit back a suggestion to change into something more coordinated. What did it matter if his clothes matched? They were going to a greenhouse, not a fashion show. She was sure the chilies would not mind.
“Let’s get your shoes on.” She leaned down and picked up a suitable pair of sneakers. “That was nice of Kirk to bring Spike back this morning, wasn’t it?”
“Uh-huh,” Percy agreed, as he flopped down on the floor and dragged his sneakers on. “Do you think he has a favorite dinosaur, too?”
“I don’t know,” Isla admitted. “You can ask him when we see him.”
She grabbed her purse from the counter and checked that she had everything they might need. Her phone buzzed as she picked it up, and she saw another missed message from her agent. The third one this morning.
Isla hesitated, her thumb hovering over the notification. The newspaper offer. It was everything she’d been working toward for years.
And yet...
She slipped the phone into her pocket without opening the message. It could wait until after their visit to the greenhouse. She wanted to enjoy the morning without deadlines and contracts pressing at the edges of it.
“Ready to go?” she asked, eyeing Percy’s mismatched outfit one more time.
Percy nodded decisively. “I am.”
“Then let’s go.”
They headed out to the car, Percy chattering about which dinosaurs could eat chilies and which would be too scared of the heat. Isla helped him into the car and checked that his seatbelt was secure.
As she slid into the driver’s seat, her phone buzzed again in her pocket. She ignored it, turning the key in the ignition instead. The agent would have to wait.
The drive from Bear’s Rest to Kirk’s place was short, but the views were enough to steal her breath. They followed the GPS along winding back roads, each turn opening onto more mountains and forest. Even after yesterday’s drive, the landscape still felt unreal.
“Mom, look at that stream!” Percy exclaimed as they crossed a small bridge. Below them, clear water tumbled over smooth stones, sparkling in the sunlight.
“It’s beautiful,” Isla agreed, slowing the car to let them both appreciate the view.
“On the way back, can we stop and take a closer look?” he asked.
“We’ll see,” Isla said as she drove on.
Ten minutes later, they rounded a bend, and Kirk’s place came into view. Isla felt a flutter of anticipation as she pulled into the gravel driveway.
The cabin was smaller than she’d expected, but charming—weathered wood with a deep porch and pots of flowering plants lining the steps. Behind it stood the greenhouse, much larger than the cabin itself, its glass panels gleaming in the morning light.
As she parked the car, the front door of the cabin opened, and Kirk emerged, striding toward them. His face was slightly flushed, and his hair looked as if he’d run his hands through it several times. She found herself smiling at the thought that he might be just as nervous as she was.
“He’s here!” Percy announced unnecessarily, already unbuckling his seatbelt.
“Wait for me,” Isla reminded him, turning off the engine.
Kirk reached the car just as they were getting out, his expression brightening as Percy bounded toward him.
“Hello again,” he said, his deep voice sending an unexpected shiver down Isla’s spine. “I’m glad you found the place okay.”
“The GPS was very specific,” Isla replied, immediately regretting how formal she sounded. Why was she suddenly so awkward? She talked to people for a living, for goodness’ sake.
“Did you bring your dinosaur?” Kirk asked Percy, crouching down to his level.
Percy held up Spike proudly. “He wanted to see the chilies too.”
“Well, we’d better not disappoint him then,” Kirk said seriously. He straightened and turned to Isla. “I thought we’d start with the greenhouse, if that’s all right with you?”
“Lead the way,” she said, grateful for his easy manner with Percy. It gave her a moment to collect herself and push away the strange nervousness tightening in her chest. It was just a visit to a chili farm. Nothing more.
Kirk guided them toward the massive greenhouse, explaining to Percy how he’d built it himself with help from his brothers. The pride in his voice was unmistakable, not boastful but simply pleased with what he’d created.
And he should be. As they approached, Isla could see row upon row of plants through the glass, varying in height and color. But every one of them looked lush and healthy.
Kirk pulled open the door, and a wave of warm, humid air washed over them. “Welcome to my world,” Kirk said softly, holding the door as they stepped inside.
Isla gasped despite herself. The interior of the greenhouse was like stepping into another climate entirely—warm, lush, and humming with life.
Plants of every size filled the space, from tiny seedlings in trays to mature plants heavy with colorful chilies.
The air was rich with the scent of damp soil and vegetation, with an underlying spicy note that tickled her nose.
“Wow,” Percy whispered, his eyes wide as he took in the jungle of green.
Kirk looked nervous as he watched their reactions, as if their opinion of his greenhouse actually mattered to him. Isla found it unexpectedly endearing—this big, capable man caring what she and Percy thought of his plants.
“This is incredible,” she told him honestly. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He smiled wistfully. “It’s taken years to get it right. The temperature, the humidity, and the soil composition. Each variety has its own needs.”
He led them down a central aisle, pointing out different plants to Percy, who listened with rapt attention. Isla followed more slowly, taking in the meticulous organization, the healthy leaves, and the careful labels on each row. This wasn’t just a hobby, or even just a business. This was passion.
She reached out to touch a leaf gently, careful not to damage it. The leaf felt smooth and alive beneath her fingertips. For once, she wasn’t mentally cataloging flaws or considering how she might describe this in a review. She was just taking it in.
“These are my ghost peppers,” Kirk was explaining to Percy, pointing to a row of plants bearing small, wrinkled chilies. “They’re some of the hottest in the world.”
“Hotter than the chocolate?” Percy asked skeptically.
Kirk laughed, the sound rich. “Much, much hotter. The chocolate has just a hint of heat. These…” he gestured to the ghost peppers, “these are like fire in your mouth.”
“Fire?” Percy’s eyes widened. “Real fire?”
“Not real fire,” Kirk assured him quickly. “But it feels that way. Heat isn’t just one thing; it’s layered and complex. Some heat hits you right away, sharp and bright. Other heat builds slowly, warming you from the inside out.”
As Kirk spoke, his hands moved with quiet animation. His voice deepened, warmed as he talked about flavor.
“The best heat changes as you taste it,” he continued. “First sweet, then warm, then hot, then sweet again as it fades. It’s not just about how much it burns. It’s about how it shifts, and what it brings out in the other flavors around it.”
Isla found herself mesmerized, not just by his words but by the transformation in Kirk himself. Something in him came alive as he described the subtle variations in heat and the flavor of each chili. This wasn’t just farming to him. It was art.
Percy was equally captivated, asking questions about each variety they passed. Kirk answered with infinite patience, occasionally plucking a mild chili for Percy to smell or touch.
They spent nearly an hour exploring the greenhouse, Kirk explaining his growing methods, the soil mixtures he made for each variety, and the careful balance of water and nutrients each one needed. Isla found herself genuinely fascinated by the science and creativity behind it all.
“And these,” Kirk said finally, leading them to a section near the back, “are my experimental crosses. I’m trying to develop new varieties with specific flavor profiles.”
Isla leaned closer to examine the plants, which bore chilies in unusual shapes and colors. “How long does that take?”
“Years,” Kirk admitted. “Lots of trial and error. But when it works…” His eyes lit up. “When it works, it’s magic. Creating something entirely new that no one has ever tasted before.”
“I’d love to cook with them…” she murmured, more to herself, but he heard her.
Their eyes met over the plants, and for a moment, it felt as though they understood each other perfectly.
Kirk cleared his throat. “If you want, you could cook here. My kitchen’s just inside.”
Isla glanced toward the cabin. “You’re trusting me with your kitchen?” she asked.
His mouth curved slightly. “You don’t look like someone who’d burn it down.”
Isla hesitated. Cooking wasn’t just a casual thing for her. It carried too much history. As a critic, she rarely stepped into that creative role anymore. It was safer to judge than to be judged.
But the look in Kirk’s eyes held no pressure. It was simply an invitation.
“I’d like that,” she heard herself say. “It’s been a while since I’ve cooked just for fun.”
Kirk’s smile was worth any potential culinary disaster.
He looked toward the mountains rising behind the greenhouse. “In that case, we’re missing a few ingredients.”
Percy perked up instantly. “What ingredients?”
Kirk smiled. “The kind you can only find in the forest.”