The next morning after a delicious breakfast of waffles and pure Vermont maple syrup, scrambled eggs, home fried chunks of potatoes, and strawberry tarts, Faith decided to explore the wooded area of the cove. Wearing a fanny pack with her water bottle and cell phone in it, she headed across the beach for the boulders and then the forest beyond, searching for the trailhead. Being a small woman, barely five feet, she had always envied tall, robust women that could hike for miles, run marathons, lift heavy weights, and jog alongside their husbands. Faith's husband had been athletic and competitive, often competing in bike and running marathons. Once, when she had expressed her frustration about her small stature, he'd laughed and pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately and whispering in her ear, "You're perfect just the way you are." He'd nipped her earlobe and added, "And sexy as hell." He'd then easily lifted her and carried her to their bedroom.
Faith paused at the tree line and swiped away the tear trickling down her cheek. Refusing to entertain additional memories, she continued her search for the trailhead. She'd walked probably less than three hundred feet when she spotted it. Surrounded on both sides by ferns, the trail dipped slightly as it ventured into the darkness of thick foliage. She stepped onto the path and abruptly stopped. For some reason her heart was pounding. She placed her palm over her chest and said softly, "You're just reacting to Gabby's theatrics about a haunted house." Her reasoning slowed her heartbeat and she continued into the coolness of the forest. Within a few steps she was surrounded by such dense greenery that the outside world was no longer visible. She shivered and walked deeper into the unknown on a mission of discovery. After maybe ten minutes she came to the intersecting trail Gabby had mentioned and sat on a fallen log. She closed her eyes, inhaled the scent of damp leaves from bigleaf maple trees and the needles of Douglas-firs, western hemlock, Sitka spruce, and other conifers, and listened to the cry of gulls. Finally, she stood and made a decision to follow the northern trail to the other cove.
Her imagination soared as she skirted ferns, gazed upward at moss dripping from tree branches and particles of dust sparkling in the sunlight. She listened to a cacophony of birds and envisioned pirates hiding stolen gold in deep holes or hidden caverns and their treasure-laden ships being ruled by a one-eyed, patch-wearing captain who governed his lackeys with an iron fist. Before the death of her husband and son she had even entertained the idea of writing adventure stories, but that dream had died with them.
The walk turned out to be longer than expected and she stopped several times to snap photos with her cell phone. Occasionally, the sun broke through the tops of the trees and stippled the ground in golden light, which made for beautiful pictures. She stopped walking when she spotted bright sunlight glinting off water. The golden light was beautiful and beckoned her forward.
Suddenly, a figure stepped into the light and Faith squealed. The man had his back to her, but jerked around. It was Gabby's son, Baxter, and for an instant he seemed blinded as he stared into the shadows of the trees. Then he said, "Hello, Faith. I'm sorry I startled you." He stepped forward and it was as if her pirate had come to life. Her voice wouldn't work and she must have looked dumbfounded, because he said, "Are you all right?"
She had to physically and mentally glance away from the tall man to recover her senses. Returning her gaze to his, she said, "Ah, yes, I'm fine. I guess I wasn't expecting to meet up with anyone, which is silly because I'm sure many people walk these trails." She was rambling and shut her mouth.
Baxter now stood in front of her. "Not as many as you would expect." He chuckled. "Maybe it's because of the haunting rumor. Anyway, I love the view from this side of the cove. Come on and I'll show you."
Faith followed Baxter into the sunlight, where, indeed, the view was stunning. He explained, "Hope Cove circles around to this cove that's a flora and fauna refuge maintained by the forestry service, so no one is allowed in." He motioned to a nearby boulder. "Have a seat."
Faith accepted his invitation and watched waves lap the narrow beach below the bluff they were on. It was about a hundred feet to the bottom with no avenue that she could see for climbing down. The beach encompassed the cove and beyond it were craggy boulders. Beyond the boulders was the forest.
Baxter had also taken a perch on a fallen log. "Most of the year I live in San Jose, so spending summers here helping my mother with the bed and breakfast is a treat. I enjoy starting my day by jogging here or to Stone House."
Faith felt Baxter staring at her as she continued watching the waves.
He said, "I figured you'd start exploring today, but I expected you to go to Stone House first. That's what most serious hikers do when they find out how old it is."
Smiling, she glanced at him. "I was saving the best for last, but maybe this is the best." She waved her hand outward, encompassing the cove.
Baxter returned her smile. "Both have their selling points."
They continued to enjoy the view and make small talk for several minutes. After a short silence, Baxter said, "I guess I better head back and get to work. Would you like to come with me or stay here?"
"I think I'll stay here and watch the waves." After he left she began composing a pirate tale because she knew the identity of the captain.