Free The Mighty Quinns: Ronan by Kate Hoffmann Page B

has to be there. I think we’re having Thanksgiving next week.”
    “That sounds pretty wonderful,” he said. “We never really celebrated Thanksgiving, at least not after my folks died. My grandfather is from Ireland and he didn’t quite understand the tradition.”
    “What are you in the mood for tonight?” she asked.
    “Can we eat raw oysters and drink beer again?”
    “You can. I’ll order Thai food. But before we do anything, you’re going to need to take a shower. You smell like oysters.”
    “You don’t smell like a rose garden yourself,” he said, hugging her close. He drew a deep breath, his face buried in her windswept hair. “Nope, no roses there.”
    Charlie’s cellphone rang and she reached into her waders and pulled it from her jacket pocket. The caller I.D. said “Isaac.” “Hey, what’s up? Where are you?”
    “I got a call from Uncle Jake,” Isaac said. “They lost a dredging basket when the line broke so we came over to see if we could snag it. Abs and I are diving for it, but we’re getting a little cold. Should we leave it and come back with scuba gear tomorrow?”
    “No, let me give it a try. You’re across from Palmer Cove?”
    “Yep,” Isaac said.
    “Be there in about ten minutes.” Charlie put her phone back in her pocket. “We have to give Isaac a hand. It’ll only take a few minutes. Then we’ll head back to the boathouse.”
    She turned the skiff toward the mouth of the bay and hit the throttle. From end to end, Mistry Bay was nearly forty miles long. Work crews from the farm were often on the bay at the same time, yet rarely saw each other. She found her siblings across from the cove they’d been seeding, their skiff bobbing on the water. Abby and Isaac were huddled in the boat.
    Charlie maneuvered the skiff next to theirs and tied it up at the bow and stern. “How deep is it?”
    “About fifteen feet,” Isaac said. “I had it once, but my knot slipped. Without a mask, I couldn’t really see. It’s full of oysters.” He looked over at Ronan. “Charlie is the best diver in the family.”
    Ronan stared at her, his mouth agape. “You’re going to jump in the water?”
    Charlie nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ve done this lots of times.”
    “She sometimes harvests oysters by diving,” Abby said. “She can hold her breath longer than anyone in the family. Almost two minutes.”
    Kicking off her rubber boots, Charlie slipped the straps of her waders over her shoulders and stepped out of them. Her jacket came next and then her jeans. When she was down to her panties and her T-shirt, she stepped to the stern of the boat.
    “Wait a minute,” Ronan said. “Is this really necessary? I’ll buy you a new basket.”
    “We don’t want to lose equipment.” She motioned to Isaac. “Hand me the line.” She wrapped the rope around her waist and knotted it, then dove over the side.
    The bottom of the bay was mud and unlike sand, it didn’t reflect the light. But Charlie saw the dredge right away and swam over to it. She unwrapped the line from her waist and then, taking her time, tied it through the bracket, making sure the knot was tight. She grabbed an oyster from the bottom, then kicked for the surface.
    Ronan was waiting, staring over the stern with a worried expression. He held out his hand and helped her into the skiff, then wrapped his jacket around her shoulders and rubbed her back. “Are you all right?”
    “Yeah.” She held out the oyster to him. “I brought you a present.”
    “An oyster?”
    “The freshest oyster you’ve ever eaten,” she said. “Come on, I’ll open it for you.”
    Isaac and Abby had managed to drag the basket into the boat. “What do you want to do with these?”
    “Take half home to Mom. She can make oyster stew. And leave about half of them at the boathouse. Ronan needs dinner.”
    Isaac untied his boat from Charlie’s skiff and a few seconds later, he and Abby were skimming across the water toward the main channel.