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animals and seemed to need the nurturing they provided. Plus, he liked Abby’s cooking, and she enjoyed cooking for someone who enjoyed it.

In the barn’s open doorway, Georgia gave Wolf’s ears a thorough cleaning while he stretched out on the concrete in a patch of sunlight. When his ears were done, she moved on to give tender attention to the large, scabby wound in his side. “Get a room, you two,” Abby groused.

As usual, they ignored her.

She shoveled another load of steaming pony poop into the wheelbarrow and tried to hate Quinn and his loud, annoying Harley. And she knew that she should hate them both. But her downfall now, as before, had nothing to do with reality and everything to do with her stupid, unrealistic, romantic wishes of what could be, which always stopped her from seeing the undeniable, realistic, verifiable truth of what actually was.

Georgia leaped to her feet and barked at a battered pickup coming down the drive. Wolf fled for the safety of his den. Abby brushed her hands on the back pockets of her shorts and went out to greet Mack. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing good,” Mack grumbled, his voice deep and dark and disgusted. “I’ve come to give you a heads-up about something that’s brewing down at City Hall.”

Abby’s heart fluttered like a panicked chicken fleeing from a fox. She put a hand on her chest to calm its hectic beating. “What?”

Mack ran a hand through his short dark hair, making it stand on end. “Can we go inside?”

“Sure.” Abby led the way to the house. Inside, she took down two glasses and filled them with ice and water. “Let’s sit at the bar.”

“I’m kind of dusty,” he protested.

“These barstools can take it.” She set their water glasses on the counter. “I’m dusty, too, from shoveling stalls.”

Her nerves had calmed a bit from doing the small, homey chore of filling glasses for herself and her guest, but the second she sat at the bar, the panicked chicken in her chest started fluttering again. Mack perched his butt on the barstool next to hers and turned the water glass in his hands. He cleared his throat and gave her a mournful look full of pity and regret.

“Go ahead.” She sipped her water and swallowed to make it go down past the lump of fear in her throat. “Tell me.”

“The city council is all—pretty much all—on your aunt Reva’s side.” He cleared his throat again and took a sip of water. “The mayor, however, believes that the presence of farm animals in the city limits could present a health hazard for the citizens of Magnolia Bay.”

Abby scoffed. “That’s bullshit. First of all, the farm is inspected yearly by the USDA. Second, the only people who might possibly live near enough to care are the Grants next door, who signed the petition to allow us to keep the animals. And Quinn, who’s planning to sell out, but at least he signed the petition.”

Mack winced at the last part of Abby’s statement. “Well, here’s the thing…”

Abby’s neck prickled. “What thing?”

“I did some digging around, trying to figure out how the petition to rescind got started.” He cleared his throat. Again.

“Are you coming down with something?” Abby snapped. “Drink some water and spit out whatever you came here to say.”

One side of Mack’s mouth quirked up in an almost-smile. “You sound just like your aunt Reva.”

“Out with it,” Abby repeated.

“It looks like Quinn complained to his real estate agent about the noise over here when y’all were still doing school field trips. He was worried that having a farm next door would impact the resale value of his property, so he told her to do whatever it took to fix the problem.”

Abby pursed her lips and nodded, her back teeth clenched against the angry words that wanted to spew out. “So Quinn started the petition.”

“Not directly. He complained to his real estate agent, and she talked to JP, giving him the idea of buying up the land around here and building that complex. JP took the ball and ran with it. Getting rid of Bayside Barn was the first step in his plan, step two being the quiet buyout of your elderly neighbors on the other side, step three being, of course, making Quinn an offer he’d be a fool to refuse.”

“And step four being that if Reva couldn’t keep the farm animals, she’d be forced to sell out and go somewhere else?”

“If she wanted to keep her farm animals, she’d have to move. And everyone knows Reva well enough to know that she wouldn’t rehome her animals. They mean more to her than the land.”

“Even though she loves this place and it has been in Grayson’s family for generations.”

Mack nodded. “Even so.”

“And I guess that once JP owned this block, he’d be able to force the owners of the bayside land to sell?”

“He wouldn’t have to force them. The old man isn’t long for this world, and his wife won’t let her shirttail hit her back before she sells everything they own. She hates it here.”

“So Reva’s the only one who needed a little extra nudge, and because of Quinn, JP knew exactly how to do that.”

“True. And if Edna hadn’t stood up at the town hall and made such a fuss, the mayor would’ve quietly pushed it through despite the council’s objections.”

“He can do that?”

“Yep. He can veto any decision the council makes. He would’ve preferred to do it without a lot of opposition from the townspeople, but you know what they say about money talking.”

“Well, shit.” Abby’s nervous heart had stopped fluttering; it seemed to have stopped beating entirely. “What can we do?”

Mack shook his head. “I wish I knew. I guess you’d better call Reva, though. Let her know all this is happening.”

Abby put her head in her hands. “I feel like this is all my fault.”

“Naw.” Mack patted her back. “Of course it isn’t. How could it be?”

She pulled her hair back off her face

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