“Aye.” Linc cast and stared stoically out into the water. “Besides, what kind of grandson would you be if you tried to blatantly override your grandfather’s wishes?”
Owen dropped his water can and gaped.
“Linc!” Cade exclaimed. “Come on, man.”
Noah scrubbed his hand over his chin. “He’s right.” Brash, but right. “I’m stuck, and Grandpa knew it.”
“Knowsit, maybe.” Owen chased the can as it rolled a few feet down the pier. “He could be watching all this, too.”
Cade pulled an errant weed off his line before recasting. “Does Pastor Dubois agree with your theology on that one?”
Owen cleaned the top of the can with his shirt hem. “There’s actually a lot of theologians who believe our loved ones can see—” Sparkling water spewed in his face as he opened it.
“Before we start arguing religion or politics, can we get back to my problem?” Noah set his rod on the pier as Owen swiped his face with his sleeve. Enough fishing for one day. He turned to Linc. “So you think I should do this?”
Linc met his gaze and held it. “I think your grandfather had a plan and it’s worth respecting.”
Noah flinched, his fists clenching at his sides as if on autopilot. “There wasn’t a lot of respect when he refused to tell me his cancer had come back until the last minute.”
Linc, for once, stayed silent.
Noah bit his bottom lip until he tasted blood. Why had he said that? He hadn’t admitted that to more than the mirror in months. But if he’d only known the remission was over, he could have?—
Cade set his pole down with a clatter and came to Noah’s side. “Look, I know it’s been a rough year.”
“I’ve had worse.” Like the year he was fourteen, for example, and learned how bad his dad sucked at being a family man. But this year had also been up there—and it kept escalating. “I’m just overloaded with renovations for the inn.”
“Before tourist season starts.” Owen nodded in understanding, taking a careful sip from his dented can.
Noah waved a hand at Cade. “You should understand that. You’ve been working with your father the past six months on fundraisers for all these rebuilding efforts.”
“Well, sure. I think we all understand busy.” Cade gestured toward Owen. “On this pier alone, we’ve got a loan officer in the middle of a city financial crisis, and a fisherman?—”
“Aye.” Linc rolled his eyes. “For the hundredth time, crawfishing is not the same as fishing.”
“—crawfishermantrying to maintain a living in an economic dip,” Cade continued.
“Exactly.” Noah exhaled. “So you guys can see how I don’t have time to work in a wild goose chase…which I’m horrible at, by the way. I might have inherited the inn, but not Grandpa’s puzzle-solving skills.”
Owen furrowed his brow. “Maybe that’s why he wanted Elisa to help. Isn’t she in the Puzzlers Club?”
Cade nodded. “She heads up the annual town scavenger hunt, too. She’s great at that stuff.”
Noah shot a look at Cade, who lifted both hands and shrugged. “Just stating facts, man.”
It didn’t matter. “I don’t want her help. Wecan’twork together.” They couldn’t even have a conversation together, if the run-in at August’s office had been any indication. “Besides, if he knew I couldn’t do it, then why even start this in the first place? He could have willed whatever he wanted from the beginning.”
“I don’t know. It sounds to me like this might be God solving your money problem with the Blue Pirogue.” Owen’s eager smile did not match Noah’s opinion of the idea.
“Whether the Lord is involved or not—it doesn’t sound like you have a choice if you want the money.” Linc, the only one still fishing, kept his eyes on the water. “So it comes down to what’s the inn worth to you?”
That wasn’t fair. The inn had been the one constant in Noah’s childhood—the one thing he could count on in his troubled teen years when he couldn’t depend on anything else. No matter how unstable things were between his parents as a kid, or how hard it’d been finishing high school in north Louisiana with a bitter single mom, he could always come back to the Blue Pirogue for the summer.
He couldn’t fail it now. Was he being prideful in resisting the help? Grandpa had arranged it like this for a reason.
He just couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.
“That man-bun gives you much wisdom.” Owen teasingly swiped at Linc’s hair but could barely reach the balanced knot at the top of the guy’s six-four frame.
