I started volunteering with the Nature Center, and I got to have this whole other thing in my life that I loved. And it’s all thanks to Hagatha.” He winked. “Whoever she might be.”
“Oh.”
Look, it’s not like I’d never considered that I helped people. I was sure I helped the actual people who wrote in—at least helped them to feel heard and seen, even if they never took my advice. But the idea that people who read this weren’t just entertained by it but touched by it?
No, I could honestly say I’d never considered that.
Beale cleared his throat. “So, okay. Our goal here is to count plovers.”
“Which are birds.”
“Still birds, Toby, yes.” He rolled his eyes, as I’d expected, and the mood lightened. “We can’t really walk the whole perimeter of the island because the mangroves grow so thick on the far side, so we’re just going to walk the beach. We’ll start in this direction.” He nodded right.
“And then back the other way.” I nodded confidently, as though plover-spotting was a thing I did regularly.
“See? And you made it sound like this was your first rodeo.”
I snorted.
“We’ll try to get a count of birds and eggs, and I’ll upload the information to the website when we get home. Okay?”
Home was a very weird concept as pertained to the little guesthouse, but I nodded. “It occurs to me that it would be helpful if you were to give me a brief primer on what, precisely, a plover looks like.”
Beale’s mouth twitched. “I was wondering if you were going to ask.” He pulled up a picture on his phone and handed it to me.
“It’s not bad-looking, as sky vermin go,” I approved, looking at the short, pudgy, brown-and-white creature.
“The black stripe on their foreheads indicates that they’re ready for mating.”
“Handy. Probably saves them a lot of time hanging out at bird bars, chatting up other birds who just want to be friends. Enables them to find their feathered soul mates that much faster.”
Beale’s lips quirked and he shook his head.
We set off, and for a few seconds, the only sounds were the squeaking of fine sand under our feet, the crash of waves, and the cawing of birds overhead.
“You know, I almost sent a letter to Aunt Hagatha once.”
I nearly tripped over my sandals. “You?”
He shot me a glance. “Surprised?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “You seem to have things so very under control.”
“Me? After everything I’ve told you?” Beale adjusted the bandanna on his unfairly un-sweaty face and gave me his “you’re insane, but I enjoy it” look. “No.”
“Let’s recap, shall we? Last night, you kept Marjorie from attacking me, this morning you saved me from a vigilante microwave—” I counted off on my fingers.
He laughed.
“And you saved me from drowning when our boat sank.” I threw an arm out in the direction of the water.
“It didn’t come close to sinking. Those rafts are nearly unsinkable. And do not say that’s what they said about the Titanic,” he added.
“Pretty sure you just said it,” I singsonged.
“You were in no danger of drowning, Toby, I promise. I told you I wouldn’t have let that happen.” His voice was low and serious, solemn even, and it made my palms prickle. I couldn’t make myself look up at him.
“Which is exactly my point,” I continued breezily. “You know how to calm homicidal cats and patch boats and hunt for plovers, sweetness. What advice could you need from m—er, from Hagatha?”
Beale paused to type something in his phone, and I realized belatedly that there were quite a few birds hopping along the shore and I hadn’t noticed. Oops. Add “terrible plover hunter” to the list of reasons why Florida and I would not suit.
“I maybe wanted advice on finding a soul mate,” Beale admitted.
I felt my eyes go round. “What?”
“But then I realized the whole point of a soul mate is that you don’t have to find them,” Beale rushed on. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “They find you. The Universe sends them to you. Obviously. So I changed my mind and didn’t send the letter. Anyway, back to the plovers!” He pointed to a sign someone had staked into the ground that read Protected Area. “I spotted a nest over that way last time I was here. We need to be really quiet and stealthy while approaching. We don’t want to startle the adults.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I could not care less about the mating habits of birds when I was busy thinking about the