Warm Nights in Magnolia Bay by Babette Jongh (best fantasy books to read TXT) 📕

to miss any of it. I called Edna, and she assured me that I wouldn’t be able to do anything y’all aren’t already doing.”

“Edna is right, as usual,” Abby agreed, hoping she wasn’t lying.

“I called Mack, too. He says I should trust the process, so that’s exactly what I plan to do, hard as it may be.”

“I know it’s hard.” It was hard for Abby, too. She tried not to think about it too much. “How’s class going?”

“You won’t believe the cool stuff I got to do…” Reva launched into a detailed account of the classes she’d had that week.

Georgia watched from the bed as Abby pulled another dress off the hanger and slipped it on over her head. Quinn was working in New Orleans today, but would be here to pick her up in less than an hour. But nothing she tried on looked right. How was it that some days, everything she tried on looked hideous, even the same clothes that usually looked just fine?

Conversation wasn’t required beyond a few well-placed exclamations of surprise and appreciation. Abby turned in front of the mirror and frowned at herself. She knew the dress wasn’t the problem. She was the problem. She tried on another one—emerald-green linen—that wasn’t too bad. This will have to do.

“How’s Wolf coming along?” Reva asked.

“Still living in his den under the porch, but I think he sleeps on the pool patio at night.”

“Inside the gate is an improvement,” Reva said. “Is he still delivering the paper?”

“Yes.” Abby selected a pair of earrings from Reva’s jewelry box—tiny emerald studs to match the green dress. “Still trying to earn a sense of belonging.” There seems to be a lot of that going around.

“Has he let you touch him yet?”

“Just once, for so brief a time I’m beginning to think I imagined it.” Abby poked through the box looking for a matching necklace. “He loves Sean and even plays with him. He has come up to Quinn a few times. He ignores me.” She settled for a simple gold cross.

“Have you asked him why?”

“Who, Quinn?” Abby struggled with the latch for a second before managing it.

“No, silly. Wolf.”

“I haven’t.” She glanced at the clock. “I’ll try talking to him tonight.”

“Why not now,” Reva pressed. “I’ll connect in, too, and validate what you get. You have time before you have to leave, right?”

Yes, she had time, if she could quit obsessing over every detail of her appearance. With one last glance in the mirror, Abby started hanging up all the dresses she’d tried on. “Let’s do it.”

“You need to sit down and relax first,” Reva insisted. “I can hear you rattling around. You won’t be able to connect with him until you’re more centered and grounded.”

Abby suppressed a sigh. Reva was right; Abby needed to take a few moments to calm herself before the meeting, anyway. She moved the dresses aside and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. “Okay. I’m relaxed.”

Reva laughed. “No, you’re not. I can hear you breathing, and those are not relaxed breaths you’re taking.”

Georgia inched over to align herself with Abby’s leg. Abby stroked the dog’s thick fur and focused on breathing in and out, in and out, in…and…out… She released a sigh, and felt the tension she’d been holding onto seeping away.

“Good,” Reva said. “Okay, now. Imagine Wolf walking toward you. See the expression on his face, his ears pricked forward, his gaze on you. See his tail waving slowly back and forth as he comes closer. Let me know when he sits in front of you.”

Abby imagined Wolf sitting in front of her. She saw his face, not relaxed and happy with his tongue lolling, but with his eyespots drawn together as he panted with anxiety. “He’s sitting. But he looks worried.” She imagined Wolf looking aside, refusing to meet her gaze. He darted a glance over his shoulder. It looked as if he was planning a potential escape route. “He’s thinking of running.”

“He feels threatened by you. Ask him why.”

“Why would he feel threatened?” Abby struggled with a flood of hurt feelings, the pain of being unjustly rejected. “I’ve only ever been nice to him. I’ve tried harder than anyone to earn his trust.”

“Those are your feelings. You have to set them aside before you can hear his. Can you put those feelings in a box, just for now, and close the lid?”

Abby swallowed. “Yes.” She imagined her feelings like the jumble of clothes on the bed beside her. She imagined herself folding them neatly and putting them in a box, then closing the lid and setting the box aside.

“Breathe,” Reva coached. “Reconnect with Wolf.”

She imagined the dog in front of her again, and gasped in surprise when she saw herself wrapping a heavy chain around his neck. He struggled to break free, but she pulled the chain tighter. “He thinks I’m going to capture him! He thinks I’ll put a chain on him and make him stay here whether he wants to or not.”

“Ask him why he thinks that.”

“I would never put a dog on a chain.”

Reva didn’t respond, but her patient silence sent its own message. Ask.

Abby went back to her imagined image of Wolf sitting in front of her. She asked the question, and got nothing. “I’m drawing a blank.”

“Maybe you’re asking the wrong question. Try wording it differently. And for God’s sake, take the chain off first.”

“Oh.” Abby played the movie clip in her head, watching herself take the chain off Wolf’s neck and tossing it aside. She watched herself sit a little farther back, not close enough to touch, not close enough to threaten. Wolf stopped panting, and his mouth looked more relaxed. I won’t hurt you, she imagined herself saying. I won’t try to catch you or hold you captive.

And just like that, the answer came to her.

“I’m trying too hard. He thinks I want to tame him, to own him, to make him mine. He feels my desire to lure him closer, and because