Less than ten minutes later, after traversing the two-lane road that wound past an occasional house tucked among the trees, she emerged at the headland.

The vista, as Charley had promised, was stunning.

Bag of tacos in hand, she struck out down the path from the parking lot to the lighthouse. After choosing one of the benches that offered a sweeping view of the sea, she slid her arms into the sleeves of her jacket and opened Charley’s bag. Inside she found three packets wrapped in white butcher paper, along with a bottle of water.

Her throat tightened, and she blinked to clear her vision. The timing of the unexpected gift—and the man’s kindness—couldn’t have been more providential. Maybe she didn’t know where she was going from here, or what tomorrow held, but for this moment she would be thankful for the small blessing that had graced her day.

One bite into her first fish taco, Christi’s eyes widened. This wasn’t an ordinary taco. It was a gourmet delight, filled with rich goodness, capped off with a zing from whatever spices and sauce the man had used.

Scratch small blessing. This taco was magic.

She savored the delicious trio, stretching out her dinner as long as she could. Even after the last morsel was gone, she lingered on the bench, letting the peace of the setting seep into her soul.

Only when fog began to roll in, obscuring the blue sky and dimming the light from the setting sun, did she stand. It was time to find the motel Charley had mentioned—and pray the price was as reasonable as he’d implied. After spending last night in the car at a rest stop while she caught a few hours of sleep in the midst of her marathon drive, a shower and a real bed would be heaven.

Crimping the top of the bag in her fingers, she turned and—

Oh. My.

Fog was descending around her. Fast. Already the gravel path to the parking lot was half obscured.

A sinuous swirl of cool vapor enveloped her, and she set off at a fast jog, tossing her trash into a receptacle as she passed.

Once behind the wheel, she put the car in gear, flicked on the lights, and pointed her Nissan back toward 101.

The fog worsened as she crept down the narrow road, reducing visibility to a handful of yards. Hunching forward, she squinted into the murkiness and clutched the wheel. Driving in this kind of weather was beyond dangerous.

Christi peered at the shoulder as she crawled forward. The safest plan was to find a driveway and pull off, wait out the fog. She could finish the trek back to the highway after it lifted.

Less than a minute later, a gravel lane appeared to her right.

Thank you, God!