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“That one busted, too?” Nate asked, tossing the cage he held onto a large pile of others stacked at the end of the Suttons’ dock.
“ ’Fraid so.” Beau eyed the cage one more time, then threw it onto the pile with Nate’s. “Did you and Cal find any more in the woods, or”—he nodded toward six cages Nate had stacked on the culling table—“were these the last ones?”
“There are a few more missing, and we’ve looked everywhere else, so they’ve got to be out in the woods.” He tipped his head back and squinted against the sharp rays of the afternoon sun while studying the high treetops lining the dirt road at the end of the driveway. “Those things have to be somewhere out there. I’m thinking, what with all the wind we had, they’re probably perched up in one or two of those live oak branches.” He grimaced. “It’s not exactly high on my list of exciting things to do, but if we want the insurance company to replace them, we’ve got to prove we had ’em in the first place.”
“You want me to check it out after I—”
“Nah.” Nate waved his hand in the air, then dragged another oyster cage across the culling table and began inspecting it for damage. “I’ll help you with this batch, and when Cal and Viv make it back from the creek, he and I’ll hoof it out there for a while, see if we can’t locate ’em.”
Beau nodded and set a cage on the culling table in front of him. His hands cramped as he turned the cage over, and he paused briefly, flexing his fingers and massaging his palms.
It was no wonder his body was balking on him. For the better part of the past week, he’d spent most of each day outside: boating on the creek to the floating farm, hauling in cages, tumbling and sorting oysters, then checking equipment, counting cages, and searching the grounds for misplaced or damaged cages. The last couple of hours of daylight he’d spent doing what he was doing now—inspecting cages, keeping the ones he thought were good candidates for successful repair, and tossing the ones that were too damaged into the growing pile at the end of the dock.
He hadn’t been too concerned when he and Nate had started the post-storm cleanup a week ago—the cages they’d found at first had suffered only minor damage and were few in number. Only as they’d moved through one line after another of floating cages, tumbling and sorting, it had quickly become apparent there were more missing than they’d initially guessed, and the more damaged cages they found, the more the losses racked up.
“Don’t frown so hard,” Nate said, elbowing him. “A week ago, this would’ve had me scratching my head and popping antacid, but considering the fact that we’ve brought new partners on board to cushion the fall, we’re going to be in pretty decent shape by the time all of this shakes out.”
Beau smiled, but he couldn’t quite summon the same excited energy he’d first felt when Royal and Nate had struck a bargain and agreed to merge Teague’s Seafood and Pearl Tide Oyster Company. The reason was simple: Kit.
“You talked to her recently?”
Beau started, his head jerking up and his eyes meeting Nate’s, and he wondered if he’d spoken his thoughts out loud. Though, if that were the case, he wouldn’t be surprised. He’d had a hard time focusing on anything lately without thinking of her . . . or rather, the lack of having her around.
“Don’t look so surprised.” Nate turned the cage he was inspecting on its side and ran his gloved palm along the loose metal wires. “It’s easy to see you miss her. Even Viv remarked on it a couple days ago.”
Beau winced. That wasn’t good. The whole point of him and Kit keeping their distance from each other was to avoid causing Viv distress over a romantic relationship between them.
He drew in a deep breath and tossed the cage he’d finished inspecting into the damaged pile. “What’d she say?”
“Oh, nothing out of the way—just that you seemed quiet lately. Didn’t look real enthused about the farm, like you used to, and she asked if I might know what was bothering you.”
Beau stiffened. “And what’d you say?”
Nate shrugged. “Nothing much. Just told her I thought you were a bit down, is all.” He glanced at Beau and raised an eyebrow. “You have seemed down lately, and I’ve had a pretty good guess that it has something to do with not hanging around Kit as much as you were for a while there.” He frowned. “Did something happen with you two? For a while, it seemed like y’all were getting on well.” He laughed. “Maybe even a little too well for my liking at the time. You were smack-dab in the middle of those Teagues, which”—he lifted a hand—“turned out to be a pretty good thing, considering we ended up with a new set of partners and investors. But I’ve noticed only Mackey and Viv have come around to work on the farm this week. And every time I ask about Kit, Mackey says she’s on the shrimp boat with Royal. I understand her wanting to spend time with her dad, but I thought she might have wanted to take advantage of working the farm a bit, too, seeing as how the two of you had become close.” He shrugged. “Or maybe I was wrong about that.”
Beau dragged another damaged cage toward him. “You weren’t wrong. Kit and I were close,” he said. “But there were other things to consider.”
Nate narrowed his eyes. “Otherpeopleto consider, you mean, right?”
Beau blew out a heavy breath and shook his head. “What is it with you and Royal? Kit and I aren’t teenagers, and whatever’s going on between us is our busines—”
“Is family business, because the two of you are part of the family now,” Nate said firmly. “Maybe not blood family, but it takes all of us working together to make this venture work, and we’re all invested, so we’re all curious.” He grinned. “But, okay, I won’t ask any more questions if you’d rather I not.”
“I’d rather you not,” Beau stated firmly.
Nate grinned wider. “That’s all you had to say.”
A motor hummed and water sloshed, signaling a boat’s arrival.
“Ah, there they are now,” Nate said, tugging his gloves off and gesturing toward the hybrid bay boat slowly approaching the dock. “Lord, looks like they’ve got more cages on the boat.” He patted Beau’s arm. “Guess we best prepare for being out here longer than we thought. Those cages in the woods might have to wait ’til tomorrow.”
Nate headed down the dock to the boat, and Beau followed, tugging his gloves on tighter.
Cal hopped off the boat first and smiled as his feet hit the dock. “Most of the cages were fine, but we found a few more that looked pretty beat up.” He spun back around, bent over the boat, and hauled out one of several cages stacked on the aft deck. “You maybe can fix this one, Dad.”
Beau walked over as Cal lifted up the cage, and took it from him. He turned it over a time or two, peering at the metal wires. “I think you’re right. I can probably bend these back in and tighten it up. How many others did you bring back like it?”
“Four, I think.” Cal glanced in the boat, his brow furrowing. “But there are about five that don’t look too good.”
