Warm Nights in Magnolia Bay by Babette Jongh (best summer books .TXT) 📗

the parking lot, soothing herself as much as him. She could do this. She had helped Aunt Reva host school field trips several times. And five seasoned helpers were here, women who knew the drill from years of experience. The choking sense of anxiety drifted down and hung like a fog, somewhere around the region of her kneecaps.

With the huge parrot perched on her shoulder, Abby joined her helpers—two retirees and three student-teachers from the local college. Each wore jeans and rubber-soled barn boots; each wore a different-colored T-shirt with the Bayside Barn Buddies logo on the front.

The ladies had already directed the bus drivers to park in the gravel lot between the light-blue farmhouse and the bright-red barn. Ninety boisterous kindergartners spilled out of the buses, and the donkeys brayed a friendly greeting over the barn fence. Freddy clung to Abby’s shoulder with his talons and hollered in her ear, “Welcome, Buddies!”

The teachers and parent chaperones in the first bus corralled their kindergartners into small groups. The hellions that had spewed from the other two buses yelled and chased each other around the roped-off gravel parking area. Feeling more relaxed now that the field trip experience was underway, Abby gave the kids a minute to get their wiggles out, then removed a gym whistle from her jeans pocket and blew three short, sharp blasts. Everybody froze.

“Listen up.” She tried to channel Aunt Reva’s stern school-teacher voice. “Before we can begin, I need each of the teachers and parent chaperones to gather the kids in your group.”

After a bit of shuffling, the crowd coalesced into small clusters of five-or-so kids surrounding each of the adults. A small swarm of kids milled around looking worried. Abby held up a hand. “Kids who aren’t sure which group you belong to, please line up right here in front of me.”

Within five minutes, every child had found the right group, and Abby’s helpers handed out color-coded stickers, badges shaped like a sheriff’s star surrounded by the words, I’m a Bayside Barn Buddy.

Abby blasted the whistle again. “Welcome to Bayside Barn. In a moment, you’ll follow me to the pavilion where we’ll watch a short video about the animals you will meet here today. Then, each group will go with the guide whose shirt matches your star. Together, you will learn and explore for the rest of the morning. We’ll meet back at the pavilion at noon for lunch, and then you’ll have another two hours of fun before you head back to school. Sound good?”

Abby allowed the chorus of excited talking to continue another minute. “Okay, everyone. Follow me to the pavilion.”

She led the way with Freddy on her shoulder and Georgia walking alongside. A small hand crept into hers. A tiny, pigtailed girl with brown eyes as big as buckeyes skipped beside her. Abby swung the little girl’s hand. “Hello there. What’s your name?”

“Angelina. I like your bird. I ain’t never seen a bird that big. Can I hold him on my shoulder like you’re doin’?”

“I’m sorry, Angelina, but that wouldn’t be safe. Freddy’s a good bird, but if something startled him, he might bite.”

“Where’d you get him?”

“All the animals at Bayside Barn came here because their families couldn’t keep them.”

Angelina stopped skipping and tugged Abby’s hand. “My family couldn’t keep me, either. Can I come live here, too?”

Abby’s heart squeezed with the familiar breathlessness of regret. Regret for promises she’d made to a child she had loved completely and yet failed to save.

A frazzled-looking woman grabbed Angelina’s arm, mumbled an apology, and towed the child back to her group.

Abby kept her eyes on the pavilion and kept walking. The fresh scratches the kitten had made on her hands and belly stung with every movement. But her small pains were worth it, since the kitten was safe and secure in the darkened laundry room with a clean litter box, a soft blanket, and plenty of food and water.

Abandoned kittens could be saved.

Abandoned children, not so easy.

* * *

Quinn backed out from under the kitchen cupboard and shut off the shop vac. He sat back on his heels and listened. What the hell…?

He opened the sliding doors and looked across the pea-green pool water to the house next door. Over the tall hedges, he saw the tops of three school buses.

School buses, parked next door?

“Shit.” That would account for the high-pitched screams and squeals. What kind of place had he moved next to?

Quinn clenched his jaw and pressed a thumb against his temple that throbbed as if someone had jabbed an ice pick into his head. His decision to sink every penny of his equity money into this place might have been a Very Bad Mistake.

After a lifetime of following his gut and making snap decisions that often had negative (okay, disastrous) consequences, Quinn had recently promised himself that from here on out, he’d write out the pros and cons of any major decision before making it. He’d done that before buying this estate.

Maybe the problem wasn’t with his decision-making process. Maybe he was just good at finding gold and spinning it into straw.

He walked down the long gravel drive to the paved road and looked across the blacktop where a sea of yellow-flowering vines stretched to the distant horizon. It had seemed like such a grand idea to buy the crumbling estate across from all this wild extravagance. The invasive cat’s-claw vine smothered trees and pulled down structures, creating a thriving and beautiful wasteland, the first of four selling points for the property he planned to flip:

1. Acres of yellow flowers across the street.

2. Bayside view at the back—with the potential for waterfront access.

3. Lonely country road on one side.

4. Only one neighboring property, well hidden behind an evergreen hedge.

He walked past that tall hedge to get a better look at the property next door. A double-panel iron gate stood open, flanking the entrance. A thick stone pillar surrounded an oversize mailbox. Under the mailbox, a brass plaque read:

BAYSIDE BARN

8305 WINDING WATER WAY

The