The pads of my fingers raced over my keyboard as I typed up responses to email after email. Most were inquiries submitted online. They asked my advice on everything from what was the best hiking trail in the Grand Canyon to what time of year is best to visit Kenai Fjords. I ran a website dedicated to my photography and travels, regularly updating it with new images and articles detailing my experiences on the road. I loved conversing with my subscribers. It helped fuel my desire to further my career any time I received positive feedback from a random stranger. I felt like I was really connecting with people and that gave me a warm fuzzy feeling.
Finishing up my replies, I turned my attention to the list of photography spots within Acadia National Park that I'd jotted down earlier. It consisted of about seventeen locations which I hoped would provide me excellent views to capture. I was already inspired, having seen the fall foliage flaring up all around me on the drive to Maine. I knew this was the perfect time of year to visit Acadia.
My phone dinged with a reminder that it was time for me to head out and start my Acadian wilderness journey. I'd been so engrossed in my computer, I hadn't even noticed the time. It was just passed seven o'clock and I'd planned out four locations to check out on my first day, starting with the Bass Harbor Head Lighthouse, one of the most picturesque spots in the park.
I hurried to throw my hiking bag together and put a blank memory card in my camera. I always started off a park journey with a new card – I took that many photos that I needed to. The sun was just starting to come up and I wanted to make it to the lighthouse by the time sunrise was in its full glory, illuminating the structure perfectly.
The chill of the morning air was a bit startling when I stepped out the door onto the deck. I took a deep breath of ocean air in and savored the scent for a moment before making my way down to my truck. Yesterday's playlist automatically resumed when I turned on the engine and my mood picked up immediately at the sound of Michelle Branch's lyrics to Breathe flowing through the speakers. Good music was always a good way to start a day of exploration.
I was careful to back up, what with the gravel driveway not being as accommodating to a larger vehicle, and I inched my way passed a large evergreen that looked like it had been in that spot for over one hundred years. The familiar sound of rocks thumping at the undercarriage returned as I gradually made my way back out to the main road which led right to the entrance gate of the park. One right turn and a couple minutes later, I found myself in line with all the other early birds who wanted to catch the sunrise over the ocean.
Fishing through my hiking bag, I retrieved my wallet as I pulled up alongside the ranger station. I rolled my window down and waited to hand the ranger my annual parks pass.
The window on the shack slid open and a tall, broad shouldered man with jet black hair that peeked out from under his Smokey Bear hat in little whisps smiled at me. From what I could see peering into the tiny shack, he was probably a few years older than me with a strong build and the dark shadow on his jawline told me he hadn't shaved in a couple days. He was handsome and his long sleeve uniform shirt seemed to fit him in all the right places, the forest green material hugging his biceps in a tantalizing way.
"Good morning, ma'am," his smooth voice seemed to tease my ears, and for just a split second, I forgot how to respond.
"Good morning," I returned the smile, reaching out to hand him my pass.
Our fingers brushed as he took the card from my hand, and I bit my lip when his eyes seemed to give a subtle sparkle. They were a rich shade of dark green – the kind of color that could make your breath catch in your throat when the morning light glossed over them.
He gave his keyboard a quick couple of taps and handed the card back to me.
"Do you need a map of the park?"
"I – yes. Yes, I'd appreciate that."
When he turned away to retrieve the paper, I groaned inwardly at my word stumbling.
The ranger reached out to hand me a map, the park's latest newsletter, and a short informational sheet explaining what to do if you encounter wildlife within the park. When he leaned over the window ledge, the sunlight glinted off the brass nameplate on his shirt and I caught his last name.
"Henry," I said, unintentionally out loud at first.
"Yes, ma'am," he responded with that same bright white smile. "Is there anything else I can do for you? The map should tell you everything you need to know, but I'm happy to point you in the direction of your destination."
I cleared my throat and shook my head. I knew where I was going, but all the sudden I wanted an excuse to talk to this man, despite the long line of cars now waiting behind me.
"Are you Blake Henry, by chance?" I asked, raking my fingers through my hair.
A questioning look danced in his eyes, and he folded his arms, leaning down on the window ledge again. The stance really showed off the muscles in his arms as they strained against his sleeves. I happened to notice he didn't wear a wedding ring either.
"Yes, I am." His words were less of a reply and more of a question as to how I knew his name.
His card laid in the catchall of my center console, and I picked it up for him to see that I had it. "My friend owns a beach house in the park that I'm staying in for the week and she gave me your card."
My explanation seemed to remind him that he apparently gave out business cards to tourists staying within park boundaries and he nodded with a smile.
"Right. Yeah, feel free to call the ranger station if you need anything. Sometimes the bears get a little venturesome, so make sure you put away trash and keep any doors locked – especially glass doors," he instructed, his fingers tugging lightly at his starched collar in a way that made me want to touch it. "And don't do any cooking with the doors open. The scent will attract them."
"Duly noted."
"How long are you visiting?" Blake asked as he glanced behind me at the traffic backup waiting to enter the park.
"A week," I smiled. "I'm here on a photography assignment. I'm going to check out the lighthouse right now. Hopefully the sun cooperates for me."
I knew I needed to get out of the other visitors' way, but this man made it hard to stop talking to him.
"I'm sure you'll get some great shots," Blake smiled. "I hope I'll see you around."
The unexpected words triggered a nervous flop in my stomach, and I awkwardly responded, "I'll be here," before thanking him for the park material and finally driving on so the next person could pull up.
As I drove down the road away from the ranger station, my eyes found the side mirror in hopes of one last glance at the attractive man I'd just spoken to. Michelle's words echoed in my mind, "Blake's a really nice guy – if you catch my drift." Yeah, really nice on the eyes, I thought. Of course, his personality seemed nice, too, but fuck was he hot.
"It's definitely been too long," I said to myself as I looked out at the forest ahead. It had been a good two years since I'd enjoyed a man's company. My job and relationships just didn't jive, and I wasn't one to engage in one-night stands, which tended to leave me unsatisfied and occasionally wishing I didn't travel quite so much. On the other hand, I was madly in love with my job and I knew I didn't need a man to make me happy. I was very, very happy with my life the way it was. Still, I did crave the late-night laughs, the good morning kisses, and the sheet-soaking all-night sex that a relationship would afford me. I missed the way it felt when a man slid his hands down the contours of my body and tilted my head to the side to press his lips to my neck. For just the slightest moment, the thought of Blake Henry kissing my neck fluttered into my mind, but I immediately dismissed that idea. I was on a business trip. I was here to do a job. Sex with a handsome park ranger was out of the question. Besides, I probably wouldn't see him again anyway.
I shook my head and straightened my shoulders. Sunrise was nearing its peak and I didn't want to miss my perfect shot. I needed to focus on work.
The winding road eventually led me out of the trees and down an open, airy trail where I could see the lighthouse in the distance. Locating a small parking lot nearby, I pulled in beside a Range Rover and hurried to grab my camera and scurry down the rocky landscape.
The boulders were slick with the spray of the ocean and sea birds swooped down in hopes of capturing breakfast on the narrow beachfront. A trail that could use some extra maintenance led out to the ideal spot just north of the lighthouse where all the surrounding features seemed to perfectly frame the subject.
I lifted the Canon that was hanging from my neck and flipped the button into the on position. Taking the cap and lock off my lens, I brought the viewfinder up to my eye and peered through at the subject. I'd gotten there just in time. The sunrise cast an orange glow over the rocks and lit up the lighthouse beautifully. I adjusted my camera accordingly and snapped away at different angles and depths. My favorite lens that I used on every trip was an 18-400mm Tamron. It was ideal for my photography because of the versatility it provided. I hated having to change lenses in the middle of a session and this lens did a great job of replacing the eleven others that I used to lug around the country. Sure, I still carried other lenses in my bag, but not nearly as many, and rarely did they see any action since I'd purchased this one.
Once I finished up my photos, I wandered back to my truck and spent a few minutes sitting there, clicking through the images I'd captured. The unedited pictures looked beautiful on their own and it made me that much more excited to edit them when I got back to the beach house.
Leaving the parking lot, I headed back up the road that led into the forest. Thick brush lined the road, and I rolled my windows down to enjoy the fresh morning air. The mist which had covered the trees when I left the beach house had almost dissipated from the sun burning it away, but a cloak of mystery still seemed to shroud the trees. In some ways, Maine reminded me of Washington. What with the evergreens that looked like they would go on forever, the rocky beaches, and the nearby mountains, the two states mirrored each other's landscape.
The next stop on my list was Beehive Trail. I'd packed my hiking bag with everything I needed to enjoy the one-and-a-half-mile hike. It took a while to find a parking spot on the side of the road, but once I reached the trailhead, I was anxious to hit the next spot. I'd seen some brilliant photos from the summit on this trail and it made me excited for the rewarding views that awaited my arrival. One thing I loved about my job was that I got to do tons of hiking. It was a great way to stay in shape, especially given my tendency to get food from the gas station on the way to my next destination, but it was also a perfect outlet for my mental health. Hiking seemed to help me clear my mind and relax. Maybe that was part of why I enjoyed my job as much as I did.
As I wandered down the trail, following the faded directional signs, I noticed no one else seemed to be around. This was a popular trail and normally, I would come across several other hikers, even in the early mornings. I'd spotted one other vehicle parked at the trailhead, a grey Accord, and it surprised me that no one else was out there.
A half mile into the hike, I checked my watch for the time and distance I'd walked. It was just after ten o'clock and I was ready for a water break.
Stopping near the sign which officially marked one half mile, I reached for one of my three forty-ounce jugs and gulped down an eighth. I'd always rationed my water intake that way, just in case I got lost. That way I wouldn't run out of water very fast.
A loud crack like the snapping of a large limb rang out from deep in the forest and startled me away from my water bottle. I automatically assumed it was a bear and cautiously looked around at my surroundings. I carried bear spray on my belt, but I'd never needed to use it. I waited a few minutes, staying perfectly still and silent, but nothing happened. I didn't see anything and decided to press on.
The forest was beautiful in a gloomy way. The only animals that had crossed my path so far were a couple of squirrels and one very persistent bird. It was a calm hike that left me to my thoughts, uninterrupted. My mind wandered back to Blake. I wondered if he'd be at the ranger station every day. I sure wouldn't mind starting each morning with a greeting from that man.
Completing the trek to the summit, I captured some stunning panoramic views atop the rocky cliffs and took a generous break to enjoy the scenery and eat the sandwich I'd packed myself. Still, to my surprise, I had yet to see another hiker by the time I started the walk back to my truck.
The lush forest enveloped me again and I adjusted the straps on my backpack as I walked, still keeping an eye out for bears or whatever creature may be eyeing me for lunch. I'd never experienced anything dangerous on a hike, but given that no one else seemed to be around, I was paying a little more attention to what went on around me, just in case.
There were a couple other spots I wanted to visit in the park before I called it a day, but I wasn't in a hurry to get to them, as the ideal sunlight wouldn't come for another six hours.
Another loud snap in the woods caught my attention and I froze, looking in the direction of the noise. I didn't see anything, but the muffled crunch of footsteps against the forest floor told me someone was out there. I hoped it was another hiker who'd simply ventured away from the trail, but I picked up my pace anyway.
When I reached the quarter mile mark, I was almost back to the parking area, and I turned around to take a few photos of the lush, dark forest. It was beautiful in an eerie way that made you want to curl up with a book under a blanket all day. I smiled at my progress so far and made my way back to the truck, climbing in and setting my bag aside.
Just as I was about to pull back onto the road, a loud shriek emanated from the trail I'd just walked down and sent birds scattering in every direction away from the noise. Suddenly, I no longer felt safe, and I sped down the road in a hurry to get away from the trail. Glancing in my rearview, I noticed the Accord was still parked off the side of the road, and I hoped whoever was hiking alone out there hadn't come into contact with an aggressive animal.