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He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and handed it to her, and she illuminated her way as they hiked along a thin trail that wound between tents. Up and up they hiked, until the campers were far behind them. Her hand was cold from the iced coffee, but the rest of her was warm from the exertion, and also from walking this close to Wreck. He was hot right now, and was casting a ten-foot wave of heat around himself.
She was breathing heavier as the trail got steeper. Just as she was about to ask if they could take a little rest, he said softly, “We’re here.”
She scurried up the trail to look over at the clearing in the trees that he was staring at.
There was a flat foundation leveled into the side of the mountain, and on it was a picnic table. She could see now, as the sun was close to rising, and could clearly make out the back of a woman. She turned, and then stood to greet them, a genuine smile on her face.
Wreck broke the silence. “Timber, this is my mom.”
Her heart jumped into her throat, and she jerked her gaze up to him to make sure he wasn’t teasing her. “Your mom?” she whispered.
The one he hadn’t seen in years? The one he’d been so scared to hurt on accident? The mother who had been good to him and raised him right, even through his terrifying years? The woman who had survived his father?
It felt like meeting a legend.
She’d never thought she would get to meet her.
Timber stepped high over the tall, dry grass and watched the woman walking fast toward them, her tear-filled eyes on herson. Wreck broke ahead and held out his arms, caught his mom up, and hugged her tight. The wind kicked up all around them, whooshed against the grass, and blasted into the sky.
Timber’s eyes were burning. She took the two thermoses from his hands so he could hug her better, and he did. She set the coffees on the flat ground and stepped back, just witnessing the outpouring of such pure love.
God, this feeling. How incredible it must be to know a mother’s love like this. To experience this deep embrace after going so long without seeing each other.
His mother cupped his face and studied it, tears streaming down her face. “My boy,” she whispered. “There’s my boy.”
And then she stunned Timber down to her bones by turning to her, and hugging her up just as tight. “Thank you,” the woman said thickly.
“For what?” she asked as she looked over her shoulder at Wreck. The look on his face broke her in half in the best way. That beautiful heart of his was in his eyes.
“For bringing him back to me.”
Timber didn’t understand.
His mom released her, and offered her hand for a shake. She dashed her jacket sleeve over her damp cheek with the other. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Beth.”
Her heart was so full as she slid her hand into Beth’s. “I’m Timber.”
The emotional smile on his mom’s face as she squeezed her hand filled some hole that Timber hadn’t known existed. This woman was good down to her bones. She couldfeelher goodness.
“Your son talks about you all the time,” Timber murmured.
“He talks about you all the time too,” Beth said softly. There was such joy in her eyes, it dragged a surprised sob from Timber. She hung her head as tears ran down her face. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” she forced out past her tightening vocal cords. “I’m just really happy you are back together.”
“Oh, honey. That’s because you love him. That’s a big heart.” Beth put her arm around Timber’s shoulder and led her toward the picnic table. There was a spread of food across it.
When Timber glanced over, Beth slid her arm into the crook of Wreck’s arm, and the three of them walked like that to the table.
“I made all of Wreck’s favorite foods,” Beth said. “When he called me last night and asked me to come meet you, and told me how he wanted the meeting to be, I knew I had to make it special.”
“When did you even call her?” Timber asked, her voice hitching on the last word.
“While you were in your house gathering your clothes. I hated how your mom treated you, so I wanted to take away from that sting. I wanted you to meet my mom.”
“He told me what has been happening to you,” Beth said as she began opening container lids. “That’s not how family should be. It is unfair. We don’t have to talk about it, and you don’t have to share. I’m sure you want to move forward, but it isn’t right. Now, not all this is breakfast food, because when Wreck was younger, he didn’t eat much breakfast. He was always on the go and would grab something fast, running on his way out of the house, so forgive me if you don’t like eating gravy this early, but pot roast was his most-requested meal.” Beth uncovered a glass container of pot roast in gravy, with cooked carrots and potatoes in the bowl next to it. Another container held fried okra. There was mac and cheese, and a cheesy broccolicasserole. There were pancakes slathered in butter, and sausage-and-cheese balls over buttery noodles.
“You made all of this since he called you last night?” Timber asked in awe as Beth handed her a plate.
“Yep. I couldn’t sleep, anyway. Staying busy kept my excitement under control. I haven’t gotten to cook for my boy in years.”
