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

had kept his promise to call his contacts in the construction business, but none of them knew anything about JP’s plans beyond what he’d told the whole town at the last meeting.

Abby patted Edna’s thigh and waved discreetly to Mack, who sat across the room with the other city council members. Now that they’d made it into the courtroom, her anxiety seemed to have subsided. Quinn took her hand, and she looked at him with a tremulous smile. Still nervous, that smile said, but holding steady and feeling hopeful.

President Tammy invited proponents of Bayside Barn to step forward and talk. Abby hopped up as if she’d been stung and took a stack of index cards from her purse with shaking fingers. As President Tammy introduced Abby to the crowd, Abby hurried to the podium—clearly terrified, but just as clearly eager to get it over with.

“My aunt, Reva Curtis, along with her husband, Grayson, opened Bayside Barn twenty years ago, making it their life mission to teach children—from Magnolia Bay to as far away as New Orleans—the importance of respect for the animals with which we share this earth.” She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and settled in. “Together, they built the barn and renovated the old farmhouse on the property he inherited from his grandparents. Sadly, Grayson passed away two years ago, but Reva has continued to fulfill their mission at Bayside Barn.

“Not only does the barn offer valuable educational opportunities for the children of Magnolia Bay and surrounding parishes, but it serves as a safe haven for lost and abandoned animals of the community. Though Magnolia Bay lacks an official animal shelter—something Reva has long been advocating for—Bayside Barn has fulfilled that need.” Abby took a shuddering breath and sent Quinn a panicked look. He gave her a thumbs-up sign and an encouraging nod.

“Whenever my aunt Reva sees a need, she doesn’t wait to be told how she can help. She always takes it on herself to do the next right thing. That’s why she can’t be here today, because she is on sabbatical this summer in order to complete her education and certification in wildlife rehabilitation. So you see, even now, as some people are trying to take away her ability to help this community through the education and outreach opportunities offered by Bayside Barn, Reva is still working to improve her knowledge and to expand the ability of Bayside Barn to serve this community.”

She stacked her index cards and set them aside. Sweeping a glance around the room, she met Quinn’s eyes and Edna’s and—Quinn thought—JP’s. Then she looked at the city council members, one by one. “I know that everyone in this room knows the right thing to do. I just hope you’ll find it in your hearts to do it. Thank you.”

Except for JP and his cronies, everyone in the courtroom applauded, and many of them stood. Some in Abby’s path back to the bench patted her shoulder, and a couple even leaned close to kiss her cheek. Flushed with relief, she sat next to Quinn and grabbed his hand, squeezing hard. He held her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Proud of you.”

Quinn could feel JP shooting daggered glances his way from the other end of the bench. If JP hadn’t known he was here before, he did now. Knowing JP’s vindictive streak as well as he did, Quinn felt his skin prickle with apprehension.

Edna squeezed past and gave a speech, this time handing out dozens of slick-looking photos she’d had laminated onto card stock. She presented a thick sheaf of the signatures they’d gathered from hundreds of people who agreed that Bayside Barn should continue to be exempt from the no-farm-animals-within-city-limits rule, even though the city’s limits had sprawled over the years to encompass the farm within its boundaries.

At least a dozen more people got up and talked about the positive impact Bayside Barn had made on them, their children, or their grandchildren.

Then, JP stood. Straightening his tie, he swaggered to the podium. His minions silently followed, carrying framed posters that they set up on easels around the room. Quinn’s heart thumped against his chest like someone hammering at a closed door.

Holy crap.

They’d brought architectural renderings of a huge hotel and marina complex. One of the minions set up a projector screen that showed a map of the area as it existed now, with a drawing of the proposed complex superimposed over it.

Quinn heard a buzzing in his ears as JP used a PowerPoint presentation to illustrate each point. He explained that under his plan—for which he had now secured ample funding from out-of-state investors—the handful of estates on Winding Water Way would be leveled and the high ground built up even higher for a hotel complete with restaurants, shops, bars, and conference spaces to rival that of the finer New Orleans hotels. The cat’s-claw forest—once acquired—would be the site of an exclusive golf course that would bring in plenty of tourists with money to spend. The bayside acreage would be the site of a marina large enough to house thirty large yachts, with dry storage for twice that number. The marshy inlets along the shore would be dredged to accommodate the large vessels.

JP talked about the millions of tourist dollars that would be added to the economy of Magnolia Bay, the hundreds of jobs that would be created. “So, you see,” he concluded, “it’s not so much about whether Bayside Barn should have its cute little furry animals within the city limits; it’s about whether Bayside Barn should exist at all.

“Yes, it’s been wonderful all these years. Yes, we all love it. But how many of you sitting out there would rather live in a thriving community with the ample jobs and infrastructure and shopping opportunities this complex will bring? Right now in Magnolia Bay, downtown stores are closing and college graduates are moving away to get jobs elsewhere. This town, my friends, is dying, and I am