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"Ready to uncover some secrets?" Ronan was ready to face the day. His words were light and bouncy. I hoped it would be a successful exploration, fulfilling his desire to solve his Great-Uncle Ian's mysteries.
"Whispering Bluffs, here we come," I declared.
As I drove, I glanced at his profile: the prominent, aquiline bridge of his nose, sharp edge of his jawline, and his full lips. He had a face like one a sculptor might chisel from marble, including the perfectly groomed beard and mustache.
His hands moved as he spoke, long, tapered fingers providing another form of punctuation. My skin tingled when I thought about Ronan's fingertips exploring my bare skin, leaving searing trails of sensation in their wake.
My attraction grew more intense by the moment, and it went well beyond physical desire. I wanted to know about every element of his life, including any mysteries that lurked deep inside.
While I drove along the coastal road, north of town, I rolled down the windows and inhaled the strong scent of pine and listened for the faint sound of waves crashing against the rocks far below. The shoreline grew more wild and rugged as we proceeded further north.
I filled the silence between us with stories of some of my past outdoor adventures. It was a way to pass the time, but I also had an ulterior motive. I wanted Ronan to see me the way I saw myself—confident, adventurous, and never scared to push against boundaries.
"Have I told you about the time I hiked the Appalachian Trail?" I glanced over to see him shake his head.
"It was the summer after I graduated college, and I went solo. I had this desire to do something big on my own. It was my way of proving to myself that I could handle anything that life might throw into my path."
While I shared my story, I remembered the gnarled tree roots and layers of fallen leaves beneath my feet. My pack weighed heavy on my back by the end of the day.
"Sometimes, I thought I might not be able to continue." I lowered my voice. "When the toe blisters got so bad I could barely walk, or I faced days on end with rain, I pushed through with a strength of will I didn't know I had. The rewards… oh man, Ronan, the sunrises over the mountains and the fog hanging in the misty valleys… it was like waking into a dream."
We were both silent for a few moments until Ronan spoke. "What an incredible adventure. You know, the fact that you keep going, even when things get tough or push you out of your comfort zone... that really says a lot about you."
I grinned. "In a way, I guess it's not so different from this escapade. It looks like sorting out Great-Uncle Ian's mysteries will take a lot of raw determination."
As if on cue, the overgown pull-out that was once a parking lot for Whispering Bluffs appeared. I steered the car onto the gravel and heard the tires crunch and crack over fallen branches. "This is our stop. Are you ready for this?"
Ronan opened his car door. "With you at my side? I'm ready to take on the entire world."
A barely discernible path led into the woods. We followed it beneath the dappled sunlight that filtered through a canopy of pines and sugar maples. I boldly headed forward every time the direction of the trail was slightly unclear.
Behind me, I heard Ronan occasionally breathing heavy. His presence made me abundantly aware of every move I made and every word that came out of my mouth. I wanted to impress him and prove that I was more than just a small-town coach. I wanted him to realize there was so much more of me he hadn't seen yet.
I stopped. "Hear that call? It's a black-capped chickadee."
"It almost sounds like it's saying 'chick-a-dee-dee-dee.'"
"Indeed." We both chuckled. "They're among my favorites."
Suddenly, I pointed ahead and to the right. "Shh… stop… do you see that?"
"That big bird with the flash of red?"
I dropped my voice to a whisper. "Yeah, that's it—a pileated woodpecker. They're still sort of rare around here. We're lucky to see one."
Ronan touched my shoulder. "It's beautiful. How do you know so much about birds?"
I shrugged. "I've always wanted to know about what's around me when I'm out in the woods. Dad knew a lot of the plants and birds, and I guess that's where I started. If I know who or what they are, I feel more like part of the community out here. Honestly, we're just another kind of animal sharing the planet with them."
As we picked our way through the woods, I pointed out more things along the way: bright yellow marsh marigolds in a low, damp spot and the distinctive call of the whip-poor-will. Ronan listened and then asked probing questions. I knew the answers to some of them, but we decided to save the others for more knowledgeable experts.
Sharing my observations made me happy that I could add more to our hike, but I couldn't stop doubts from starting to grow in the back of my mind. Ronan was such a strikingly successful businessman. He was brilliant—what could I offer him that he couldn't easily find at home? All of my achievements wrapped into one still felt small and insignificant compared with what he'd done.
Deeper in the woods, the trail narrowed, and we arrived at a challenging part of the hike. Gnarled tree roots and jagged edges of rocks sticking out of the soil conspired to make it more like a climb than a hike. I used my athletic skills to navigate the rough parts with ease, but I heard the sounds of Ronan's sneakers slipping, followed by curses and heavy breathing.
I stopped and turned around to check on him. His face was deep red, and he clung to a sapling near the trail. "You okay?" I asked.
He nodded. "I'm fine," he insisted. His jaw tightened. "Just not used to this kind of rough terrain."
