Chapter Nine – Isla
Their baskets were already nearly full with wild mint, berries, and golden mushrooms tucked carefully among the leaves.
As they tramped through the forest, Isla felt as if she were breathing freely for the first time in a long while.
Maybe it was the fresh air, rich with pine resin, or the birdsong overhead. Or maybe it was Kirk. There was something deeply calming about him.
He moved with such easy confidence through the forest as though he belonged to it. He knew exactly where to step, which branches to hold aside, which path to take through the dense undergrowth. There was no hesitation in his movements, no second-guessing. And she envied him that.
“Look at this one, Percy,” Kirk said, crouching down beside a cluster of mushrooms growing at the base of a massive pine. “See how it has these little white spots? That means we leave it alone.”
Percy kneeled beside him, his small face serious as he studied the mushroom. “Is it poison?”
“It is,” Kirk confirmed, not sugar-coating the truth but not making it scary either. “Some of the most beautiful things in the forest can be dangerous. That’s why we need to learn which ones are safe before we touch them.”
Isla hung back a few paces, watching the way they interacted. Kirk never talked down to Percy or simplified things unnecessarily. He spoke to her son as though he were fully capable of understanding—because Percy was. Too few adults ever seemed to realize that.
“How do you know which ones are safe?” Percy asked, tilting his head to examine the mushroom from another angle without touching it.
“That’s a great question,” Kirk replied. “There are several ways. Some mushrooms have lookalikes that can make you sick, so you need to check multiple features: the gills underneath, the stem, and the cap shape. But the safest way is to learn from someone who already knows.”
“Like you,” Percy said, beaming up at Kirk.
“Like me,” Kirk agreed with a smile. “And someday, you’ll know enough to teach someone else.”
Someday. But they were only here for two weeks. Not long enough, the thought came unbidden.
But long enough for what? To learn how to find food in the forest? Or to find herself again, the version of herself she’d lost somewhere along the way?
“What’s this one?” Percy asked, pointing to a plant with jagged-edged leaves.
Instead of immediately answering, Kirk asked, “What do you notice about it?”
Percy studied the plant carefully. “It has pointy leaves. And little hairs.”
“Good observations,” Kirk nodded. “Anything else?”
“It’s growing in the shade,” Percy added after a moment.
“That’s right,” Kirk said. “This is stinging nettle. Those little hairs can hurt if you touch them with your bare skin, but when cooked, nettle is delicious and full of vitamins. We’ll need gloves to harvest it, though.”
As if prepared for anything, Kirk pulled a pair of small gardening gloves from his pocket and handed them to Percy. They were much too big, but Percy looked delighted as he carefully pulled them on.
“Now I can touch it?” he asked, seeking confirmation.
“Yes, but we’ll cut it rather than pull it,” Kirk explained, showing Percy how to use the small scissors from his foraging kit. “Cut just above this point on the stem, see?”
Percy followed Kirk’s instructions with careful precision, his tongue poking out between his teeth in concentration. When he successfully snipped the nettle and added it to his basket, his face broke into a triumphant grin.
“I did it!”
“You sure did,” Kirk said, his voice filled with genuine pride. “You’re a natural forager.”
Isla felt her throat tighten unexpectedly. Percy’s father had never shown this kind of patience and had never nurtured Percy’s natural curiosity. In the short time he’d been a part of their lives, he’d been too busy, too distracted, too focused on his own needs.
But Kirk was different. He seemed to genuinely enjoy Percy’s company, answering question after question without a hint of impatience. When Percy misidentified a plant, Kirk didn’t correct him directly but asked another question, guiding Percy to discover his own mistake.
They came to a small clearing where sunlight poured through a break in the canopy, illuminating a patch of wild strawberries. Percy gasped in delight.
“Mom! Look at these! They’re so tiny!”
Kirk showed Percy how to check if they were ripe, gently rolling one between his fingers before picking it. “The truly ripe ones will come away easily,” he explained. “If you have to tug, it’s not ready yet.”
Percy nodded solemnly and began harvesting with careful concentration, placing each tiny berry in his basket as if it were a precious gem.
Isla kneeled beside them, joining in the harvest. Her fingers brushed against Kirk’s as they reached for the same cluster, and a small jolt of awareness shot through her. She glanced up to find him watching her, his expression soft and unguarded.
“Thank you for this,” she whispered, not wanting Percy to overhear. “For being so patient with him.”
Kirk shook his head slightly. “No need to thank me. He’s a remarkable kid. Smart, curious, careful, all the best qualities in a foraging partner.”
“Still,” Isla insisted, “not everyone would take the time. Most adults get tired of his questions pretty quickly.”
“Their loss,” Kirk said simply. “Questions are how we learn. Besides…” His mouth curved in a slight smile. “He reminds me of myself. Being around him makes everything feel new again.”
Isla chuckled. “That’s one of the best things about having a child. Their enthusiasm is infectious. They can make the simplest things feel wonderful.”
“That’s how this feels right now,” Kirk murmured. “With both of you.”
Isla looked up, meeting his gaze. Something in his eyes made her heart flutter, an openness, a vulnerability she hadn’t expected from someone who seemed so solid and self-assured.
But then Percy flopped down between them. “Look how many I found!”
“That’s quite a haul,” Kirk said, his expression serious as he inspected Percy’s basket. “I’d say you’re officially a master forager now.”
Percy’s face glowed with pride. “Really?”
“Really,” Kirk confirmed. “You’ve picked it up faster than most people do.”
“Did you hear that, Mom?” Percy asked.
“I did,” Isla said.
Kirk nodded. “I think we’ve gathered enough to make something pretty special tonight.”“Let’s go!” Percy jumped to his feet, all puffed up with pride.
This wasn’t what she’d expected to find in Bear Creek. She’d come for work, for reviews, for content. Not for... this.
Not for the quiet contentment that filled her as they gathered their baskets and began the journey back.
Not for the way her heart lightened when Percy slipped his small hand into Kirk’s without hesitation, trusting him to guide them safely home.
Not for the dangerous, wonderful thought that flickered through her mind as she watched them walking ahead of her on the trail:
What if this could be their life?
The thought should have frightened her. They’d known Kirk for a day. They were only staying in Bear Creek for two weeks. Her life—their life—was back in the city, with her career, Percy’s school, and the carefully ordered world she’d built for them.
But when Kirk turned to make sure she was still with them, his smile warm and easy, Isla found herself wanting something she hadn’t allowed in years: the chance to choose uncertainty over safety.