The one he found here was named Jean McG--, a serving wench at the nearby tavern who had once been an indentured servant like so many Marylanders. She...served Walker and the French captain the first evening to their enthusiastic delight and rogered Captain Foster to a fare-thee-well the next forenoon. Then it was my turn.Jean hauled me back to her small cabin, smiling and chattering as if we were heading for a church picnic. She said she had a friend of some years who was about my size, maybe. Bill and I were at UCLA together. Actually, we knew each other in high school, believe it or not. What about you?”“I’m in the Bay Area.”“Married, Matt?”“Not yet, but I haven’t lost hope.”A few minutes later the croissants were gone, our coffee cups empty. I wanted to stay and talk but I figured I’d better not press my luck.“I’ve got to go. See you at the beach tomorrow, Sarah?”For a moment she looked unhappy. She wanted to talk some more? Couldn’t be sure. Then she smiled.“You bet.”The next day. More

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