The Mighty Quinns: Ronan. Kate Hoffmann

each other in the school musical. When they graduated, they were both determined to chase their dreams on Broadway.

      But New York was a rude awakening. Danny was easily discouraged and took a full time job selling cell phones. After some minor parts in a criminal drama, a series of commercials for generic laundry detergent, and an appearance in an off-off-Broadway play, Charlie was beginning to break through.

      But as she got more work, Danny became more and more distant—and jealous. Their relationship began to fracture and Charlie realized that New York wasn’t where she wanted to be. So, she moved out and came home to Sibleyville, older and a little wiser.

      She glanced up at the chef’s mirror above the granite counter. A groan slipped from her throat. Her chestnut hair looked liked a tangle of seaweed. Charlie grabbed a clean oyster brush from the drawer next to the fridge and ran it though the shoulder-length strands, then pinched her cheeks to give herself some color.

      She rarely wore make-up when she was working and usually didn’t care to dress in anything that showed off her figure. Yet she couldn’t help but regret that it wasn’t the New York City actress Charlotte Sibley that opened the door to Ronan Smith rather than the oyster farmer Charlie Sibley.

      She looked at herself in the mirror once more. Though she could pretend to be a myriad of interesting and exotic characters, Charlie knew that the woman she was would have to be enough.

      Shaking her head, she walked to the door, but found herself off balance from the champagne she’d guzzled. If she was going to hire Ronan, than she’d have to keep her feelings to herself and her wits about her. A man like Ronan probably had women drooling over him everyday. And Charlie had never aspired to be one of the crowd.

      RONAN SMOOTHED HIS hand over the hull of the twenty-foot skiff. The boat was old, maybe sixty or seventy years old from the clues he’d found in the construction. Nowadays, most commercial outfits chose fiberglass boats for their easy upkeep and long life.

      “How’s it going?”

      He glanced up to see Charlie watching him. Jaysus, she was pretty. Her wavy dark hair framed a beautiful face, each of her features a perfect complement to the others. She had the kind of beauty that made him want to sit her down in front of him so he might study her in greater detail, like a fine painting or a famous sculpture.

      “Good. This is a beautiful boat,” he said. “I love the lines.”

      “It’s old,” she said.

      “They don’t make them like this anymore. I think the best boats are made of wood.”

      “My dad would totally agree with you.” Charlie came closer to examine his work. “You’re very thorough,” she murmured.

      The compliment pleased him, more so because it came from her. “This scraper is kind of dull. If you’ve got a way for me to sharpen it, I’d get more done. And you might want to use a better grade of marine paint next time,” he said. “If you apply it properly and maintain it, you shouldn’t have to repaint as often.” He stopped himself. Now he was sounding like the boss.

      “You know something about boats?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

      “Yeah,” Ronan said. “Just a little.”

      “You said you were from Seattle. What are you doing in Maine?”

      “Just traveling,” Ronan said. “Seeing America.”

      “Well, if you’re willing to work hard, I’ll pay you a fair wage,” she said. “We have the office and shop here in town. And our nursery and hatchery is out at Kepley Pond. Then we grow out the oysters at Mistry Bay.”

      Kepley Pond. Mistry Bay. That sounded like a lot of water. Since he’d been eight years old, Ronan made a point to stay off the water, at least the ocean. But he wanted this job and he’d need to put his fears aside. Maybe it was time to face the past. Besides, no one ever got lost at pond or at bay like they got lost at sea.

      “You’ve done good work on the boat,” she said. “The job is yours, if you’d like it.”

      “There is one thing,” he said. “I need to find somewhere to stay. I was hoping you might be able to help me.”

      “We’ve got a small apartment upstairs next to the office. I could rent that to you,” she said. “As long as you’re quiet and tidy, I don’t see any problems.”

      “Great,” he said. Ronan knew he ought to tell her his real name. She didn’t seem like the type to discriminate, although he still hadn’t figured out what the problem was with the rest of the town. “I tried to find a place in town, but no one wanted to rent to me.”

      “Why not?”

      He shrugged. “I don’t know. As soon as I told them my name, they suddenly didn’t have a room to rent.”

      “Ronan?” she asked. “Or Smith?”

      “Quinn,” he said. “My name is Ronan Quinn, not Smith.” He paused and watched as surprise came over her pretty features. “See. That’s the look right there. So it is the name.”

      She laughed softly and then a sudden hiccup stopped her. Pressing her fingers to her lips, she sent him an apologetic smile. “Yeah. People around here have a pretty big grudge against anyone named Quinn.”

      “How could they have a grudge against me? They don’t even know me.”

      Charlotte shrugged. “Well, I don’t really believe in all the silliness. Spells and curses and witches. I’m willing to give you a job, Ronan Quinn. And a place to stay, if you want.”

      “What did this Quinn do to make everyone mad?”

      “It’s a complicated story,” Charlie said, waving him off.

      “Don’t you think I ought to hear it, so I know what I’m up against?”

      She shook her head. “If I tell you the story, you’ll think we’re all so crazy that you’ll want to leave town. And I need an oysterman.” She pointed to his duffel. “Grab your bag and I’ll show you the apartment.”

      Ronan breathed a silent sigh of relief. “I didn’t mean to lie about my name. I was just trying to figure things out.”

      “No matter,” she said, walking him back upstairs.

      When they got to the second floor, a doorway opened into a lobby for a spacious office opposite the tasting room. “Things usually get busy in here in the afternoon when we’re preparing packing lists and labels for our shipments but all that starts next week.”

      She showed him a comfortable one-bedroom apartment with a galley kitchen and a comfortable bed. A bay window overlooked the water and he could hear the metallic clank of the boat riggings through the glass. “This is nice,” he said.

      “If you need an advance to buy groceries, I can help you out there.”

      “I could use that,” he said. “And I can finish the skiff today. I’ll work on it all night if I have to.”

      “Great,” she murmured. Charlie stood in front of him, her gaze flitting nervously around the room. Though Ronan had tried to hide his attraction to his new boss, he hadn’t really considered that she might be attracted to him. As she shifted nervously, her fingers twisted together, he decided to test a theory.

      He leaned a bit closer, just a few inches, waiting for her response. Would she lean in as well, and close her eyes, expecting a kiss?

      “Bathroom,” she said, turning away.

      He followed her into the tiny bathroom. It looked like the room had once been a small closet and they had to struggle to move around. When they finally maneuvered themselves into a comfortable position, they were so close Ronan could feel the heat from her body.

      “You—you have to jiggle the handle on the toilet to get it to stop running. And the—the tub