by Karen Rock
“Maybe we’ve both learned some new tricks.”
She straightened and stepped so close that he took an involuntary step back. “I conduct multimillion dollar deals while you...” Her voice trailed off as she looked from his mud-spattered boots to his faded plaid shirt.
“Earn an honest living.” He adjusted his Red Sox cap. “You get your hands a lot dirtier than I do.” Before her family’s tragedy, she’d been proud to be a 4-H girl and farmer’s daughter. Now she acted as if this life was beneath her.
Where had the girl gone who’d swung out on a rope over Cedar Bay farther than anyone, the young woman who’d walked the ridgeline of a barn on a dare and had raided Mrs. Tate’s berry patches at midnight? The impulsive risk taker he’d known was replaced with a carefully controlled, polished version of herself. Yet he preferred her former warm glow to this reflective sheen that wouldn’t let him see the real her. If that person existed anymore. Had she been this way all along? Was that the reason she’d left him?
The sliding doors opened with a hiss and they stepped out into the cool midmorning drizzle. Daniel breathed in the smell of exhaust and couldn’t wait to get home, away from all this concrete. He needed to strategize. Regroup and think about how he’d handle this new, unflappable Jodi.
She raised an eyebrow and gave him a measured look. “Where are you parked?” Her stroller’s plastic wheels swerved along the parking lot’s asphalt.
So she was letting his accusation go, her self-possession unnerving him. Gone was the girl whose passion had once swept him away from his everyday life, her white-hot temper later imploding it. How things had changed. At least the temporary cease-fire meant he could find out her plans. Stop them before she put them in place. For that matter, the drive home might soften her up with a tour down memory lane.
“I’ve got a ground-level spot,” he said, raising his voice so it’d be heard over a plane’s roar.
“Great. The sooner Tyler gets his nap the better.”
“Are you working right away or having some R & R first? I’ll show you some of the old sights.”
“I have to check in with my boss, then I plan to—” She stopped and shoved wet, frizzing hair from her face. “Why am I telling you this?” Her eyes roamed over him, mystified. Suddenly she looked like the girl he’d known years ago, the one who’d once worn her heart on her sleeve and had captured his.
“Because we used to be friends, Jodi Lynn.”
“Friends?” She snorted and shook off the water collecting on the stroller’s canopy. “And don’t call me Jodi Lynn.”
“Would you prefer ‘ma’am’? Is that what country folks are supposed to say when a city girl comes to town?”
“Knock it off, Daniel.” She nudged him, and the warmth of her bare shoulder through his thin shirt nearly burned.
“That’s Mr. Gleason to you,” he joked to hide the response her touch ignited. Careful, he warned himself.
Jodi shot him a level look, then picked up speed when her son started to kick again, his voice sounding like a teakettle about to boil. No wonder. Daniel would scream, too, if he was strapped in when he could walk instead. Parking lots were unpredictable, but with a firm hand and a sharp eye the little guy could have had his freedom.
“So why are you here instead of one of my aunt’s neighbors?” she asked once they halted beside his muddy blue pickup. The misting rain had only streaked the dirt.
“We’re all neighbors, and neighbors help each other.” He tossed her expensive-looking suitcases into the open bed, an echoing thunk sounding when plastic met metal. “In case you forgot.”
“I haven’t. I’m helping my old hometown get a fair deal that will improve their lives.” She spoke without looking up at him, her movements practiced and efficient as she swept up her thrashing son and secured him in the child seat she’d detached from the stroller, buckling him into the center of the truck’s continuous front seat.
“If you want something, use your words, Tyler,” she told her son.
The boy screamed and pounded his fists against the dashboard, but Jodi slid in beside him, looking as if it was any other day. And for her, maybe it was.
Daniel felt his resistance weaken until he caught himself. Her “fair deal” would only benefit Midland, not her former community. They’d either have to abandon their land or become corporate drones, working for a Midland paycheck. No. Jodi was the enemy. No matter that she made him remember good times he’d rather forget.
If he couldn’t convince her that this was personal, not business, remind her of the good times she’d had here and the people she’d cared about, then he needed her gone before she wreaked havoc on his home and his heart.
She’d done the latter the last time she’d left town. He’d be a fool to let her do it again.
He wouldn’t let himself, or his town, fall for Jodi Lynn Chapman.
No, ma’am.
* * *
JODI CLOSED HER eyes and rested her head against the seat as the truck accelerated out of the airport parking lot. Of all people, why had Daniel been the one to meet her at the airport? The unwelcome surprise had rattled her to the bone. It’d taken every bit of control to act professionally around him when she’d wanted to bolt from the emotions he’d shaken loose. Besides, personal spats wouldn’t convince the local farmers to trust her professionalism.
But she and Daniel had been much more than enemies once....
Her eyes flew open at the unbidden thought and she peeked at Daniel’s profile. He’d matured in subtle ways over the past ten years. His square jaw and broad cheekbones had filled out, balancing his strong nose so that his masculine features looked handsomer than ever. His left-sided cowlick pulled dark hair from his prominent brow and framed hazel eyes fringed with thick lashes she’d always envied.
Her face heated and she lowered her lids again as the truck took a couple more turns. No. She wouldn’t let herself think of him that way. Not again. Not when she needed every bit of her focus on acquiring local farms, even Daniel’s. And how would she manage that magic trick?
Then again, how could she not? Besides Mr. Tisdale’s lakeside property, Daniel’s Maplewood Farm had the most land in the area. With her target set at five thousand acres, success was her only option.
Her chest burned when she recalled being served with Peter’s petition to lower child support payments yesterday. Despite everything, she still hadn’t believed he’d do it. And now, on top of battling for tuition to Wonders Primary, she’d need to hire a lawyer to fight him.
She held in the sigh that’d give her inner turmoil away. This was the most important deal in her career and she had to think strategically and rationally. Use the skills she’d learned from corporate wheeling and dealing in order to win when she needed it most. Emotion or doubt couldn’t cloud her judgment.
Her eyes slit open and flicked Daniel’s way. Nor could she let their former relationship influence her. She’d been betrayed by men in her life and she’d never forget that Daniel had been the first. Her index finger tapped against the window, punctuating the thought.
When the truck hit another pothole, her eyes opened and teeth rattled. She glanced through the mud droplets and instead of seeing the tree-lined edge of I-89, she saw the Pearsons’ stainless steel silo. The curved ladder they decorated with red-and-white light strips every December flashed by in a blur. Why had Daniel taken this slower, back-road route?
The answer came to her in waves of nostalgia.
A weakness.
He was testing her. Seeing if she missed the place. Felt sentimental. Hah. Tyler was the only one to whom she’d entrust her feelings again.
“I know what you’re doing and I don’t appreciate it.” She crossed her ankles against the dusty floor mat and tried to blot out the memory of visiting the Pearsons’ enormous lit candy cane; it had
been a Christmas season tradition.
Daniel shot her a sideways glance, then said, “If you look over there, Tyler, you’ll see Field Stone Farm.”
Tyler continued pulling Ollie’s tail, the hand stitches she’d used to reattach it last week nearly pulling free.
“I beat your mother at a stone-carrying challenge there. Hope she’s still not holding that against me since I shared the prize with her—one of Mrs. Willette’s raspberry cobblers.” Daniel’s vivid eyes sparkled when they met hers, the green-and-yellow kaleidoscope of color drawing her in until she shook her head and looked away.
“I hardly remember those times, so there’s no grudge.” Jodi shifted uncomfortably as she recalled too much.
Tyler jerked when Daniel ruffled his hair. “Guess that means your mother’s become the forgiving type.”
“I’ve moved on and so should you,” she muttered as she pulled out her smartphone and read an email from her boss to call him. “And would you please go a bit faster. I have to—”
“The speed limit here is thirty-five. Besides—” Daniel shrugged his broad shoulders “—I’m showing Tyler where he comes from. If you have your way, he’ll never have this chance again.”
Jodi tamped down her sudden spike of anger. “He’s from Chicago, not Cedar Bay.” She passed Tyler a Fruit Roll-Up snack, then sighed when her son flung it away. He really was hungry.
“There’ve been Chapmans here for over three hundred years.”
“His last name is Mitchem. I changed my name back after the divorce.”
Daniel shot her a speculative glance then continued. “Your last name might be different, Tyler, but you’re still part of a large family that goes back generations.” Daniel drummed along with the Eagles tune “Take It Easy,” which was ironic. She noted his empty ring finger as it beat against the wheel, then chided herself for looking. What difference did his marital status make?
When the song ended, he pulled a bag of raspberries out of a dashboard pocket and passed it to Tyler. No! She lunged, too late, as Tyler squealed when he crushed them, the crimson color bleeding through his tiny fingers. Jodi’s shoulders slumped and she reached for a Handi Wipe. What a sticky mess.
“May I have one?” Daniel held out a large hand in front of Tyler. Her heart squeezed when her son struggled, then plucked a berry from the bag. He would have won a gold star for that in physical therapy.
“Thank you, Ty.” Daniel’s white teeth flashed against the tanned skin of his face and her breath caught when his crescent moon dimples appeared. She forced her attention away and dabbed at the sticky berry juice dribbling down her son’s face. “Careful, you’ll choke,” she warned as Tyler shoved in another handful.
Her son stopped chewing, but didn’t look up. For Tyler, that was the most attention anyone could expect when he got fixed on something he really liked.
“Glad you’re enjoying the treat, Tyler,” Daniel said before continuing the kind of chatter that charmed everyone. “I had to ask my neighbor Mrs. Tate for some since the birds had eaten all of mine. You remember going berry picking on Blueberry Hill, Jodi Lynn, right?”
Their eyes caught and held over her son’s head, a memory of their first kiss, berry flavored and full of sunshine, bursting in her brain. She stared at his mouth and turned away when it curved into a knowing grin. Her teeth ground together. He was trying to get under her skin and she’d be darned if she let him.
“Did Grace tell you that she got elected state regent of the Daughters of the American Revolution?”
“Yes. She told me. In fact, she keeps me up-to-date on all of the local news.” Jodi crossed her fingers at the white lie. But she didn’t want Daniel to think she had a special reason to avoid hearing about her hometown. Like a broken heart that had never fully healed....
“Is keeping tabs on your acquisitions part of your job description?” His dark lashes cast shadows over his eyes, but she detected sarcasm in his voice.
“Half of all New England farmers hold full-time jobs off the farm, then return home to farm,” Jodi quoted from a survey she’d read recently. “The rest are full-time farmers. Their work extends year-round. Two-thirds of the farmers are fifty years of age or older. One-third are sixty years of age or older. Only a few farmers receive help from their adult children, and most farmers have difficulty finding farm labor, so many farms are kept to a size that the family can manage alone.” She rolled down her window and let the warm, early-summer air flow over her. “Looks like the berries aren’t the only thing ripe for the picking.”
Daniel whistled long and low, making Tyler cup his hands over his ears. “So you think Cedar Bay’s in a crisis.”
Jodi tugged Tyler’s hands away and danced Ollie across his lap. “Fortunately, I’m here to help so that no one becomes a charity case.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him wince.
“I never called you that,” he said quietly.
“But you believed it.”
Jodi remembered overhearing him agree with teenage friends who’d called her a charity case. He’d been unable to deny those feelings when she’d confronted him. Although it’d happened the summer she’d worked on Daniel’s farm to pay for her father’s medical bills, the memory still burned bright. She’d been falling for Daniel and hadn’t seen the truth, had trusted him when he’d suggested keeping their relationship quiet until things settled down with her family. Her father’s emotional distress and slow recovery meant her mother’s every waking moment was spent caring for him. They didn’t need any extra distractions or worries. But when Daniel had admitted that he pitied her, she’d realized the horrible truth.
He’d only dated her because he felt sorry for her—a fact he hadn’t denied when she’d accused him.
So when her parents had moved to Arizona, she’d left a week early for college without warning him. What could she have said that wouldn’t have caused more hurt? Their original plan had been to maintain their relationship and see each other during college breaks. Instead, she’d vowed to never return home again. Until now... She’d reacted impulsively, she realized, looking back. But there was no sense in wishing for a chance to make things right. Especially not with both of them on opposite sides of this battle.
Besides, those were the feelings of an adolescent girl crushed by her failed first love. Not the woman she was today. Not even close.
“You said this wasn’t personal.” The timbre of his voice deepened.
She shrugged tense shoulders. “It’s not.” Not in the way he meant anyway. This was for Tyler, not revenge on an ex-boyfriend.
“Then it’s for the bonus.”
“That’s none of your business.” Heat flared along her upper chest and crept up her neck. She needed that payment for Tyler.
“Fine. You win.” He sent her a sideways glance. “This time.”
She unclenched her hands when Daniel clicked off his windshield wipers. The rain ceased its steady drum and sunshine splashed down where clouds broke apart and moved off, revealing patches of blue. She squinted out the window and breathed deeply. She had nothing to feel guilty about.
Until they rounded a corner.
“And this is where your mother used to live growing up.”
Tyler kept eating and Jodi averted her eyes. She didn’t want to see the scene of her father’s accident.
“The next side road’s a shortcut to Aunt Grace’s house,” she said through shaking lips. “Could we take that, please?”
“But you’ll miss seeing Deep Meadows Farm. Remember the daisy chains we used to make?”
“Take us home, Daniel,” she ordered, voice thick. She clasped her trembling hands in her lap, recalling the dash to the hospital ten years ago, and her remorse for not being there to help with the skid loader borrowed from Daniel’s father.
“But, Jodi Lynn,
you are home.” Daniel’s insistent tone softened.
“Home is Chicago.” Jodi said it to remind herself as much as Daniel. “I meant to my aunt Grace’s house. The tour’s over.”
Her voice was harsher than she intended and Tyler flapped his hands. He rocked forward in his seat and made a keening sound that pierced her heart.
“Tyler, I’m sorry,” she crooned, regret filling her. “We’ll be home soon and you can take a nap.” She wedged his stuffed animal beneath his seat belt. “Ollie’s tired, too.” She tried pressing on his shoulders the way the therapist had showed her to calm him, but couldn’t get the right angle.
Daniel turned off the radio and flicked his blinker on at the side road.
“No,” she protested when Tyler’s protests escalated to full-out screams. “Some noise is good. Do you have anything classical?” A familiar weeping willow flashed by along with a clearing that contained two grazing dapple-grays. Good. Getting closer now.
“Just 102.9.”
But when he tuned into the local channel, they were running through sports news, the announcer’s high-pitched voice making Tyler’s legs beat against the seat, his small hands covering his ears.
Familiar panic set in. The juice box she offered Tyler wound up on the floor beside the Fruit Roll-Up. The back of her neck grew damp and her eyelid twitched.
She knew she shouldn’t feel ashamed of her difficulty in controlling Tyler’s outbursts, but she did. It felt as if a marquee sign appeared over her head flashing Bad Mother...Bad Mother.... And the disapproving looks she got in restaurants or checkout lines confirmed the fact that, yes, she was being judged and found wanting.
How would they have handled this at Wonders Primary? She pictured the brightly colored toys and equipment in the well-lit, open space, the smiling, patient therapists who played on their knees with the children. There this tantrum might never have occurred.
This was exactly why she needed to succeed and head home as soon as possible. She wasn’t what was best for Tyler. They were. And the thought made her want to cry along with her son.