Warm Nights in Magnolia Bay

by Babette de Jongh

  With a groan, Georgia stretched out and aligned herself along Abby’s leg. Did they have an agreement? Abby couldn’t be sure. But at least Georgia finally fell asleep.

  Even more important, she let Abby fall asleep and stay that way until morning.

  * * *

  The mayor of Magnolia Bay stepped around the massive mayoral desk to shake Quinn’s hand. The man didn’t look at all like Quinn expected; not a portly politician in a slick-looking suit, but a tall, vigorous-looking man in his early sixties wearing a golf shirt and khaki pants. “Hello, Mr. Lockhart,” the mayor boomed. (At least his voice sounded like Quinn had expected it to.)

  Quinn extended a hand. “Mayor Wright, thank you for making time for me.”

  The mayor clasped Quinn’s hand and shook it with firm determination. “What can I do you for?”

  Quinn ground his back teeth at the mayor’s classic southern penchant for turning grammar on its head in a cutesy way. “I’d like to propose a business deal to counter the one you’re currently considering regarding the bayside marina development.”

  “Ah, yes.” The mayor indicated that Quinn should take a seat across from the desk. “Mack put a small bug in my ear about your idea.” He folded his lanky frame into his fancy leather desk chair, scooted the chair up close, and steepled his fingers in front of his lips. “I’m listening.”

  Quinn relayed the list of pros and cons he’d come up with last night. The pros of taking a sure-bet deal to build an animal shelter for the city on Quinn’s land versus the cons of letting developers build a hotel and marina complex that, even if the environmental impact study came in on their side, would still take upward of five years to start making a profit.

  “But the animal shelter won’t make a profit at all, will it?” Mayor Wright asked. “It’ll be a drain on the economy.”

  “You are correct that the shelter won’t make a profit. But it will provide a vital service to the community that your constituents will appreciate come election time, and it won’t be a drain on the economy.”

  Quinn thanked God that he and Mack had brainstormed with Reva over Skype about how the shelter’s renovation and build-out could be paid for, and what the likely operating expenses would be once the shelter was up and running. He explained the plan. They would apply for a grant to fund the construction, then use several potential income streams—such as government grants, private endowments, local business partnerships, local fund-raising efforts, and adoption fees—to fund ongoing operations.

  Most important, he made it clear that Bayside Barn would be an integral part of the shelter’s operations. They would house any abused or neglected farm animals or equines that were brought into the shelter. That would, of course, require them to maintain the ability to keep farm animals within the city limits.

  “I’ll definitely think about it,” the mayor promised, standing. This time, he stayed behind his desk, but extended his hand across the desk. “Thank you so much for coming in.”

  An offer to think about it wasn’t what Quinn had expected, either. He had expected—or at least hoped for—an enthusiastic acceptance. He stood and shook the mayor’s hand. “When will you make your decision?”

  “I’ll probably wait to hear both sides’ arguments at the next city council meeting. Once the council makes its decision, I’ll decide whether to veto or not.” The mayor sat back down, scooted his chair up, and pulled a stack of file folders close. A clear dismissal.

  Quinn walked out, disappointment weighing his steps. He knew from Mack that the city council would be on their side. But if the mayor wasn’t on their side, too, Bayside Barn was doomed.

  Chapter 25

  Wolf was waiting outside the door when Abby went to feed the critters that morning. “Hello, you,” she said, reaching down to pet his head. This time, he didn’t flinch or back up; he stood still and allowed her to stroke his soft fur. “That’s a good boy.”

  Georgia seemed to know that Abby and Wolf were sharing a moment, so she trotted off in the direction of the barn. The farrier had come the day before; she was probably hoping to find some leftover hoof trimmings to chew on.

  “How’s Quinn doing?” Abby asked Wolf, not really expecting to receive an answer.

  Sad. Lost. Missing you.

  The words popped into Abby’s mind like tiny bubbles that floated up and then exploded one after the other, leaving her with the same feelings.

  Sad. Lost. Missing him. All that, along with a heaping helping of guilt. She shouldn’t have shut him out without listening to him, without at least giving him a chance to explain. She shouldn’t have given him an ultimatum to fix the problem he’d caused or else. She should have understood and offered to help.

  It’s not too late. Wolf leaned against her leg and looked up at her with his expressive golden-brown eyes. He seemed…approving, as if she had turned some sort of corner, and he had finally accepted her.

  “Bet you won’t let me give you a bath, though.”

  Georgia barked from inside the barn, breaking the spell. Wolf bolted ahead and Abby followed, her heart feeling lighter than it had since she’d cut Quinn out of her life.

  Wolf and Georgia lounged in a patch of sunlight and munched on hoof trimmings while Abby did the morning feed. She finished the barn cleaning, raked out the chicken coops, and hosed down the aviary, humming to herself.

  Joyful. Despite everything that was going on, today she felt joyful. Wolf was right; Abby had turned some sort of corner. After the farm chores, Abby sat by the pool to do more of the inner work Reva had asked her to do yesterday. She took out her seldom-used journal and wrote another page of what felt like random ramblings, but it really did seem to help Abby get in touch with some latent inner wisdom she didn’t often take the time to connect with.

  Processing and percolating, Reva called it; writing questions to herself, then writing the answers. She turned that page and started a new one, where she took notes on a new conversation with Wolf. While he sat beside her lounge chair and stared at the horizon, she wrote a question: Have I turned a corner?

  He looked back at her briefly. Ask me something you don’t know.

  What advice do you have for me?

  My advice for you is the same you would give to me: Let love in. Trust in love. Love will heal you. Maybe we can help each other to have that kind of courage.

  A shadow fell over her notebook, and Abby shaded her eyes with her hand to look up. “Quinn.” Her heart did a quick little dance before settling down again. “Hey.”

  He stood there looking uncertain. “You gonna tell me to leave?”

  “No, I’m not.” She patted the empty lounge chair next to hers. “I’m gonna tell you I’m sorry. I was wrong to shut you out the way I did.”

  “I don’t blame you for hating me. I was an arrogant, selfish asshole.”

  “I don’t hate you, Quinn. I—” I love you. “I don’t hate you.”

  He sat in the chair and stretched out his legs. Leaning back with a heavy sigh, he took off his sunglasses and closed his eyes. The hot sun picked out the highlights in his brown hair and revealed lines of stress beside his eyes and mouth that Abby hadn’t noticed before.

  “You making a list?” He asked the question without opening his eyes or turning his head.

  “Sort of.” She closed her notebook. The subtle sense of joy she’d been feeling all day expanded in her heart when she looked at his beloved, tired features. Wolf walked up to Quinn and brushed against his arm. He reached out in a weary motion to stroke the dog’s head. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You look worn out.”

  “Haven’t been sleeping,” he murmured, sounding drowsy.

  Abby set her notebook aside and stood. “Come inside. I’ll tuck you into my bed, and I promise that you’ll be able to sleep.”

  He groaned. “I’m comfortable here.”

  Tiny beads
of sweat glistened on the hard planes of his tanned face. “Yes, but in fifteen minutes, you’ll be sweating down, and in another half hour, you’ll be working on an interesting sunburn.” She took his hand and pulled at it. “Come with me.”

  He grumbled but allowed her to tug him upright. She turned toward the house, but he pulled her back and wrapped his arms around her. With his face in her hair, he inhaled deeply. “You smell”—he inhaled again—“like horses.”

  She laughed and gave his hard waist a tight squeeze. “I’m sure you’re right. You could probably get a whiff of bird, too, if you tried. I promise I won’t get in bed with you smelling like this.”

  He nuzzled her neck, making her shiver. “Nah, that’s okay. I like the smell of horses.”

  She patted his butt. “Come on, Quinn. It’s nap time.” She led him through the house, then released him at her bedside. Tossing the throw pillows onto a chair, she turned down the covers. “You can keep your underwear. Take the rest of it off,” she commanded. While he undressed, she went to each of the windows and closed the blinds. He got into bed, his eyelids at half-mast, sleepy and sexy at the same time. She covered him with the quilt and sat on the edge of the mattress. “I’m sorry I was so hard and unforgiving. I take it all back.”

  He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “I’ve been talking with Reva and Mack, and together we’ve come up with a solution that we think the city council will vote yes on. I talked to the mayor this morning, but I don’t know if he’ll agree. We’ll have to make our case to the council before he’ll decide. I wish I knew something more to do, but—”

  Abby leaned forward and kissed him, effectively shutting him up. “Whatever happens, we’ll handle it together.”

  * * *

  Quinn drove Reva’s car to pick Reva up at the airport. On the way, he told Abby about his plan to save Bayside Barn.

  “Quinn,” she protested, “you can’t do that. You can’t give away all your assets. You’ll be left without any working capital to build the construction business you wanted.”

  “Yeah, but I’m almost making enough to live on with the cabinetry work I’ve been doing, and I’ll be getting paid to complete the renovation for the shelter. Besides, maybe I don’t want to be a contractor anymore anyway. The only thing is…” He let his voice trail away. He didn’t know how to say that next part.

  “The only thing is…?” Abby prompted.

  He glanced at her, then trained his eyes on the road. “I won’t be making a lot of money. I won’t be able to offer you a big fine house or an unlimited credit card account or—”

  “Whoa.” Abby turned, her back against the car window, her knees angled toward him on the seat. “Quinn, what are you talking about?”

  He gripped the steering wheel as if the car was about to spin out of control. “I want us to be together.” He squeezed the steering wheel even tighter. “I want to make a life with you. I just don’t have much to offer you right now.”

  Abby loosened her seat belt and scooted as close as the console would allow, then leaned her head on his shoulder, both her hands wrapped around his bicep. “I don’t care about all that. I’d like to be with you, too. It doesn’t matter to me where we live or how much we have. I can get a job, too, once Reva is back home to take care of the farm. We’ll build our future together. You don’t have to do it all by yourself. There’s only one problem I can see.”

  He felt his whole body tense up. “What’s that?”

  “You haven’t told me yet that you love me.”

  He jerked back in surprise. “Of course I have. A few times, I’m sure.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. You’ve never said it out loud. Neither have I, by the way; I didn’t want to say it first and put you in the awkward position of having to respond.”

  He squeezed her clasped hands against his side. “I love you, Abby.”

  She squeezed his bicep and snuggled closer. “I love you, too, Quinn.”

  * * *

  Reva’s suitcase weaseled behind her in a zigzagging motion. One of the wheel’s housings had cracked, so the wonky wheel whirled and spun on the polished marble floor of the airport’s baggage claim, knocking the suitcase off-kilter on an irritatingly regular basis. She felt the phone in her purse buzz with an incoming text, but ignored it until she had dragged the suitcase outside.

  Standing at the curb, she read the text from Abby: We’re parked in the cell phone lot. Let us know when you’ve got your bags and we’ll get in the pickup lane.

  She texted back: I’m here.

  When she saw her car inching along the curb some distance away, she stepped off the curb—just barely—and waved to get Abby’s attention. A car going past blared its horn, and someone gripped Reva’s arm firmly from behind. She stepped back onto the curb and looked way up to meet the man’s gaze. “You,” she said, feeling her voice soften. It was the tall, good-looking man who had saved her from the escalator in the Miami airport. “You must be some sort of guardian angel or something.”

  He grinned. “Nope. Just spend a lot of time at airports. A long-distance love affair will do that to you.”

  “I remember. Your girlfriend was flying into Miami before. And now…?”

  “She’s coming to New Orleans for a conference, and I took time off work to be with her. I just parked the rental car, and now I’m headed to baggage claim to meet her.”

  “Young love,” Reva sighed. She remembered Grayson and her being that way, spending every available moment together. Getting out in the world always reminded her of how much she missed him. “Don’t ever take it for granted. Don’t take her for granted.”

  “I won’t, believe me.” The young man winked, reminding her so much of Grayson that it took her breath. “Whenever she needs me, I’ll find a way to be there.”

  Another horn honked… Abby this time—or, rather, Quinn. He was driving Reva’s car and Abby sat in the passenger seat. Quinn parked at the curb and popped the trunk. In the whirlwind way of curbside pickups, he grabbed Reva’s suitcase and put it in the car while Abby hopped out to give Reva a quick hug. Quinn slammed the trunk and came around to open the doors for her and Abby. “I feel like I know you already,” he said, taking Reva’s hand. “Abby has told me so much about you. So has Mack.”

  She pulled him into a hug. “I’m so happy to meet you, Quinn. I’m looking forward to meeting your son, too. Abby has spoken fondly of you both.”

  The introductions took no more than a minute, but by the time she turned around to introduce her tall, handsome friend to Abby and Quinn, he had already melted away into the crowd.

  On the drive back to the farm, Reva sat in the back seat and napped. And she was glad she’d taken that opportunity to rest up, because Abby had planned a big welcome-home dinner for Reva at the farm. All the barn’s volunteers were already there when they pulled up, and so was Reva’s friend Heather. Mack pulled in right behind them, and Sean’s mother dropped him off a few minutes later.

  Fueled by an enormous salad, a big pan of lasagna, and three loaves of garlic bread, the conversation soon evolved into a lively brainstorming session on the future animal shelter and Bayside Barn’s role in it. Quinn kept looking at his phone, so much so that Reva felt compelled to comment. “Are we boring you, Quinn? Or maybe you’ve got somewhere else to be?”

  Quinn grimaced. “I invited a friend to come and help us brainstorm about the new shelter. I knew he couldn’t make it for dinner, but I thought he’d be here by now.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m just gonna step outside and try to give him a call. I hope he’s not lost on a back road without a cell signal.”

  “While you’re at it, make sure the porch lights are on so he can see the house from the road.”

  When people started clearing the table, Reva stood and tapped Sean on the shoulder. “Hey, wanna help me with something?” />
  “Yes, ma’am.” He followed Reva through the house into the supply closet.

  “You start on this side, and I’ll look on the other. We’re looking for a big pad of poster-sized Post-it notes. I know they’re in here somewhere.”

  While they dug through the dusty shelves, Sean accidentally knocked down a box that popped open when the corner hit the floor. “Oops, sorry.” He knelt down to pick up the scattered contents, then stood with a plastic star in his hand. “Oh, wow! I have one of these from when I visited here in the third grade.”

  “Oh my goodness.” Reva thought they’d long since used all those plastic stars; now they used stick-on ones, because kids these days couldn’t be trusted with a stick-pin. “I didn’t know we still had any of these left.”

  Sean reached up for the next same-sized box on the high shelf and brought it down. “You have bunches of them.”

  “Could you check if that other box up there…?”

  Sean brought down a third box and lifted one of the flaps. “Yep. Stars in here, too.”

  “Awesome. Set those over by the door, please. I’ll figure out what to do with them later.”

  She found the pad of poster Post-its and handed it to Sean, then picked up a box of colorful Flair pens.

  In the dining room, she put the pens in a coffee mug on the table. “Sean,” she instructed, “stick one of those poster sheets on each of the sliding glass doors and the windows facing the pool; enough for everyone here to have their own page to draw on.”

  Georgia gave a high-pitched warning bark and rushed out through the dog door.

  “Put up one for Quinn’s friend, too. That must be him arriving.”

  Heather came up, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Kitchen’s clean.” Her round cheeks were pink, and the humidity had coaxed her shoulder-length blond hair into gentle waves. “What else can I do to help?”