Page 7 of Timber Ridge

I dig deeper, finding the framed photo of my mother. It’s a candid shot, her laugh frozen in time. I place it on the small bedside table, a piece of home, of her, to watch over me.

“I can’t imagine you being here.” I glance around the cabin and look out the window into the inky night. “Is this why you hated the cold so much?”

There are so many unanswered questions. The only time my mother ever mentioned my father was when I asked about him, and she told me he left her—left us. She didn’t know how to find him. She told me the past is the past, the future is the future, and all we have is here and now—the present. She’d insisted it was a gift, meant to be unwrapped with care and lived with joy, not with eyes fixed backward or gazing too far ahead. I never thought about him again until that postcard dropped out of my mother’s herbal medicine journal. One of my parents is dead, but the other is around, and I’m curious about a lot of things. I have so many questions that need answers. Like, why did he leave? What does he look like? What parts of me are like him? I hope to find the answers while I’m here.

I refocus my energy on unpacking, and a few other treasures emerge, like a soft, well-worn hoodie that’s seen better days, and a beanie baby. Cubby the Bear has been with me for as long as I can remember. There is no way I’d leave him behind on this adventure when he’s been here through every major event in my life. I set him on the nightstand beside Mom. Lastly, I take out a soft fleece blanket. It’s comforting and warm to hold on to during the lonely nights ahead. I lay it across the bed, ready to be my cozy hug in this new, quiet place.

My makeshift home now holds the small but significant imprints of my life. I stand and step back, surveying the cabin, sensing a thread of connection to everything within it. This is home, for now. With little left to do, I change into flannel pajamas and climb between the sheets to read.

The morning light filters in, and I wake ready to conquer the day. My morning routine is easy, and the trip to the outhouse doesn’t seem as scary in the full light of day. Just as I’m finishing a bowl of jarred peaches, the unmistakable sound of an ATV approaches. I peek through the window, my breath catching at the sight of who could only be Eliza, steering the vehicle with one hand while the other rests on her pregnant belly. A mix of emotions tugs at me. I’m struck by the excitement of meeting her and the concern that she’s forced to come out and help me in her condition.

I push the door open as the sound of the engine cuts off.

“Morning, Timber!” Eliza’s voice, bright and clear, breaks the stillness around me. She vibrates with energy. “Looks like you’ve survived your first night!” she says.

“Survived is one way to put it,” I say, stepping into the crisp morning air. “A heads-up about the outhouse could’ve been part of the welcome package.”

Eliza’s laugh is full and unapologetic. “I guess I could’ve, but then I might have risked you changing your mind. And we can’t have that,” she says, her tone light but sincere.

“Well, I’m here now.”

Inwardly, I know the truth of it. Even if Eliza had sent a list of every hardship and every challenge that awaited me, it wouldn’t have deterred me. I would’ve come regardless, even if it meant sleeping in a tent. I need the money, and I have a mystery to solve.

Eliza slides off the ATV and walks to me. Her stomach reaches me a full second before she does. “Are you ready to see what we have to offer?”

“Absolutely.” I look around, seeing my temporary home in the light of day, and I find it enchanting. If everything else in town is half as captivating, I’ll be in for a treat. “I’m quite happy to be here.”

Eliza’s belly pushes against mine without notice, and her arms wrap around my shoulders. “I just knew in our few conversations that you’d be perfect for the job.”

The hug is surprising, but not unwelcome. It has been a long time since anyone hugged me, and I hold on a few seconds longer than I should.

“I’ll do my best to fill your shoes while you’re busy.”

“You’ll be great. Let’s get on with the tour.” Eliza climbs back on the ATV and pats the seat beside her. “Just got this baby back this morning.”

I climb onto the contraption that looks more like a souped-up golf cart.

“Is this the normal mode of travel?” I look at her stomach and wonder how she’ll get around once the baby is born.

“It’s this, the snowmobile in the winter, or walking.” She points to the back seat. “I can strap him in for safety.”

“You’re having a boy. That’s wonderful.”

Eliza laughs. “Yes, much to the disappointment of the entire town. Women are outnumbered here at least four to one. But I’m happy to have a son. We’re naming him Cody.”

“That’s a wonderful name. Now, tell me about Port Promise. I mean, the things I couldn’t learn from an internet search.”

“We have a small community. We’ve dwindled to less than a hundred from about four hundred a few years ago. And trust me, it seems like most of them are related to me!”

As we ride, her words mix with the ATV’s buzz. She talks about the trees and wildlife and asks me if I’d like to accomplish anything while I’m here.

I think about all the woodland sounds that kept me sleeping with one eye open last night. “I’d like to stay alive.” I keep my real mission under wraps—finding the mysterious postcard sender. I’m not sure I’m ready to share that just yet. It seems too personal to share that with someone I don’t know. Besides, how do you ask about a man you know nothing about? I don’t even have a name.

“We’d like you to stay alive too,” she says as she winds around the wooden path I walked yesterday. “You started well. You survived Kane, who can come across as a bit rough around the edges. Was he alright to you?”

I offer a noncommittal smile. I couldn’t tell her that he was like a welcome wagon and showed up with gifts, but then again, I couldn’t say anything negative either. He was direct and to the point. “He was ... efficient,” I say, which is true enough.

She laughs, a sound that seems to understand the unsaid. “Efficiency is a virtue with that one. He’s had to be on top of things, being the oldest of us. Port Promise isn’t without its challenges. My brother has faced many,” she says. “I’m the youngest, the last attempt for a daughter. And let me tell you, growing up with all those boys ... you learn to stand your ground. Thankfully, I had a good role model in my mother. May God rest her soul.”

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