The Mighty Quinns: Ronan Read Online Free PDF

told her that he’d rode up on a camel. “Bus?”
    “Yeah. It was part of the deal,” he said.
    “What kind of deal was that?” A sudden sting of doubt pricked at her thoughts. “You didn’t just get out of prison, did you?”
    This time he laughed, a deep, resonant sound that caused her heart to flutter. She glanced over at him and took in his smile. God, he was really handsome when he smiled. “Did you?”
    “No,” he said. “My grandfather sent me on this trip. He picked the place, bought me the bus ticket and sent me on my way.”
    “Why?”
    He paused for a long moment, as if he was deciding exactly how much to reveal to her. “When me and my three brothers were just kids, our folks died in an accident.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that,” Charlie murmured.
    “We all worked together on the family business,” he said. “We build custom sailing yachts. Quinn Yachtworks in Seattle.”
    “So that’s why you knew so much about the skiff.” She risked another glance over at him and caught him staring at her from behind his dark glasses. “Why would he send you away?”
    “He wanted us all to live a different life for a while. To figure out if we wanted to continue on with the family business or strike out on our own.”
    “So you decided to try oyster farming,” she said. “I’m not sure that was a very sensible choice. It’s not nearly as glamorous as building yachts. It’s a lot of dirty, sweaty work. And some days, the mosquitoes are so thick they’ll carry you away.”
    “I don’t mind working hard,” he said. “And I like being outside.”
    “All right,” she said. “Now, watch that map because this next turn is kind of tricky. It’s easy to miss.”
    Charlie pointed out the sign for the hatchery right before she turned down the narrow, winding road to Kepley Pond. “My dad’s brother, Uncle Jake, runs the hatchery and nursery.”
    She stopped the SUV in front of the hatchery building, then jumped out and waited for Ronan to join her. “This is where we start,” she said. “Kepley Pond. It’s really not a pond, but an estuary. We bring adult stock into the nursery from the bay. Usually, oysters spawn in mid-summer, when the water reaches a certain temperature, but we gradually bring the temperature up, forcing them to lay their eggs in the spring. We also grow phytoplankton here to feed the larvae. When they’re ready, we move the seed oysters into an upweller system beneath those six docks. We also sell seed oysters to other farmers in the area.”
    Charlie led him down to the pond. Long wooden docks jutted out into the brackish water. “As they grow, we put them in containers that sit on the bottom of the pond, giving them space so that they grow evenly. And when they’re big enough, we plant them out in the bay.”
    “How do you do that?”
    “We toss them overboard with a snow shovel. Very high tech. Maine oysters grow slower in the colder water so they’ll stay in the bay for about three or four years before we harvest them. We do that a lot of different ways, mostly dredging. In some areas we culture them in lantern nets. A few times a year at low tide, we can harvest them by hand.” She smiled. “So, that’s oyster farming in a…an oyster shell.”
    They walked to the end of one of the docks and Charlie showed him the upwell system. When she’d replaced the cover, she watched as he sat down at the end of the dock, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.
    She sat down beside him, glancing over to study his expression. “Is there something wrong?”
    He shook his head, his gaze still fixed on a point on the pond. “So, I’m going to have to go out on the water with a boat?”
    “Yeah. That’s how we plant and harvest. Can’t you swim?”
    “Oh, yeah, I can swim. I’m just not a real big fan of boats. And deep…dark water.”
    “That’s going to be a problem,” she said. Why would he have come to an oyster farm for work if he didn’t like the water? Oysters