“Not as a rule. Mostly to newcomers who plan to stick around. But these are extra, and they’re either going to you or to Floyd and Gladys.” He nodded toward the seagull couple hovering nearby.

She inspected the duo, a touch of amusement tickling her funny bone despite her glum mood. “The birds have names?”

“All of God’s creatures have names.”

O-kay. This guy was a character. But he seemed genuine—and harmless.

“I wouldn’t want to deprive your friends of a treat.”

“Floyd and Gladys won’t mind. They know I’ll make it up to them tomorrow. Right, you two?” He directed his question to the birds.

One of them gave a laugh-like cackle, and the other ruffled its feathers. A moment later, in a flutter of wings, they were airborne and flying toward the harbor.

Charley held the bag out to her.

As her stomach rumbled, she caved. For once she’d accept a handout. After the disappointing results of her long trek to Oregon, this stranger’s kindness was a balm to her soul.

“Thank you.” She took the offering.

“If you’re not in a hurry, you may want to mosey up to Pelican Point to enjoy them. It’s a world-class view, and at this hour on a weekday you should have the vista all to yourself. The tacos will stay warm for the short drive.”

“I may do that.” If she could convince her growling stomach to wait five or ten more minutes for nourishment.

Charley adjusted his Ducks baseball cap. “I hope you have a pleasant stay, however long you’re in our fair town. And I’ll be cooking again tomorrow if you get another hankering for my tacos—or want any more information about Hope Harbor.”

“I appreciate that. But I expect I’ll be on my way early.”

“If your plans change, you know where to find me.” He touched the brim of his cap and wandered down the wharf.

She watched him leave, a tiny smile hovering at her lips. What a pleasant man. Much more agreeable than the other occupant of the town she’d encountered.

Too bad Charley the taco man wasn’t in a position to offer her a loan. He seemed like the type who’d give someone the benefit of the doubt—and a second chance.

The type Jack had once been.

But she’d been a fool to expect miracles—and that’s what it would take to soften his heart.

Banishing those depressing thoughts, she considered Charley’s suggestion. She could chow down here rather than drive up to the lighthouse. The benches spaced along the wharf, flanked by overflowing flower boxes, were inviting—and the scene was restful.

Yet solitude and a panoramic view were appealing. Perhaps up at the lighthouse, with nothing but sky and sea around her, she’d find direction—and clarity.