by Karen Rock
Yet the crowd didn’t laugh with him and an uncomfortable feeling settled in his gut. Was he losing them?
“I wasn’t actually finished, Daniel,” Jodi said, her eyes wide and innocent. Only he wasn’t fooled. Not anymore, at least.
“Let her talk,” Frank shouted, and Daniel shot his bowling buddy a glare that was returned with a scowl.
“Thanks, Frank.” Jodi inclined her head. “Now, the reason I brought up this ‘history lesson’ was to remind us of how important it is to preserve our right to make our own choices, to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps, to be the boss of our life, rather than fall to the collective will of others. However, Daniel is about to propose this.”
She reached behind her and held up a chart he’d made of the upgrades needed in order to form the co-op. His throat trapped his breath and held it hostage. How had she found out about his plans? The grant? Would Sue or his father have told her? He hadn’t warned them not to, but he hadn’t imagined them meeting. He frowned. The minx. On her way through the house, Jodi must have swiped it from his kitchen and now used his labor against him. If he wasn’t fuming, he’d admire the tactic.
“Daniel got you out here on the pretext of an all-American cookout. Once he filled you with pork, he planned to throw in some slop—namely these mandatory changes to your farms.” Her finger ran down the list that looked long now, even to his own eyes. He should have consolidated some categories, made it look less complicated.
“But they won’t be your farms anymore if you join the co-op. How could they be when you’ll no longer call the shots?”
A collective murmur rose from the group and a couple of classmates crowded him.
“Is it true?” asked one.
“I’m my own boss,” hissed another.
Daniel shook his head and held up a finger as if to say “wait.” He needed to hear the rest of Jodi’s speech in order to plan a counterattack.
“The collective will of the co-op will decide when and how many changes you’ll be required to make on what was once your and your ancestors’ farms,” she continued, a moth banging on a light behind her. “Before you so much as change your feed order, you’ll have to check in with the new authority. Not you. No.” She hoisted the chart so that she had to peek around the side. “The co-op will decide that, along with each of these areas.”
Several boos erupted and Daniel flinched. He itched to put a stop to her speech, but any move he made would cast him in a worse light than she already had.
She underlined each category with a yellow highlighter that glowed in the gathering dark. “So if you join this co-op, I ask you, haven’t you just signed away your freedom, your rights, your individuality? The American Dream?
“Heck, yeah!” several shouted, and he could hear a few bottles clink.
“America is the mightiest nation on the planet because we have the freedom of choice. The decisions we make, as individuals, directly impact how much we improve. Please come to the village green by Fellowship Church after services for fun, patriotic games, food and entertainment sponsored by one of America’s biggest employers, Midland Corp. I’ll explain exactly why Midland will guarantee your freedom to choose your future, rather than have it controlled by a co-op, as Daniel is about to propose.”
Cheering broke out when Jodi stepped down after a quiet smile and a thank-you.
“It’s all yours, Daniel,” she whispered in his ear as she passed by close enough for him to smell her perfume.
His chest burned when he mounted the steps and saw that the party had largely broken up; many had followed Jodi down his long driveway toward their cars.
He opened his mouth, then closed it at Frank’s smirk.
“She got you good,” his friend chuckled before flipping his hand up and disappearing into the night.
Daniel walked among the tables and picked up his old plate, his brain feeling as muddy as the ground. He gave Goldie a piece of pork, then took a bite himself. But instead of the crispy, salty goodness he’d anticipated all day, he tasted something unfamiliar and bitter.
Defeat.
CHAPTER SIX
DANIEL INJECTED A dose of antibiotics into a restless cow, her tail whipping his face as his mind replayed Jodi’s antics last night. She’d seemed sincere. How had he misread her? Must have been wishful thinking, hoping she’d become the person he used to know. Care about.
“Pinkeye?” asked Sue as he capped the needle and stepped out of the stall.
When he turned, she was folding a rain slicker over her arm, water dripping from her short hair and streaming down her cheeks. The smell of wet dog drew his eye to Goldie, who showered them with a powerful body shake.
“Infected leg.” He wiped the spray from his eyes and pointed to the brown cow that stomped and lowed in the infirmary pen.
After feeding her a carrot, he scratched the white diamond on her forehead and unhooked her. Cows could be unpredictable and it paid to be careful. This one was the oldest in his herd and though she’d quit producing two years ago, he’d found it hard to part with her.
If only he’d been less softhearted around Jodi yesterday. Wasn’t that what his mother had accused his father of when his habit of loaning money and equipment had nudged them near bankruptcy? He shouldn’t have let down his guard. It’d allowed her to come back, harder than ever, after his speech at the veterans’ hall.
“So are we talking again?” Sue pulled back a soggy cloth to reveal a mound of flat, brown cookies in a wicker basket. “I’m sorry about what happened with Jodi. I invited her over to talk about treating Tyler—”
“You’re treating Tyler?”
How had that happened? The idea of seeing Jodi here every day filled him with anticipation and dread. But if it helped Sue, how could he argue against it? Besides, Jodi knew his secrets now. With nothing left to hide, he needed to work twice as fast to get the co-op going before Midland found a way, through high-level connections, to interfere.
Sue shrugged, “You want me to finish my Ph.D. so I asked Jodi if I could work with Tyler for my dissertation.”
“But you’re proving your advisor’s theory. Correct?”
Rain drummed on the tin roof and he positioned a couple of buckets beneath ceiling drips.
“No. I’m proving mine. Tyler quit talking when his father left them over a year ago. I know that if I can get Tyler to speak, the committee won’t reject my theory.”
He looked at her, surprised and dismayed. “I can’t believe a father would abandon his child.” He’d supposed Jodi’s split with her husband had been a mutual decision. This information put things in a new light. Jodi’s husband left, not the other way around. It showed a more mature side to Jodi that challenged his memory of the teenaged girl who’d run from their problems.
“Yes. It’s horrible,” Sue continued as she stroked Goldie. “She told me about it before we joined your party. Tyler was traumatized and I want to help him.”
She put a hand on his tense arm. Now both their fates were tied to Jodi.
“Why won’t you believe in me?”
Her large eyes implored him, her passion reminding him of his feelings about organic farming. Many were reluctant to trust a new method. Maybe he shouldn’t be so hard on her and give her a chance.
“I do. I just don’t believe in those jerks on the committee. But if you want to go for it, then I’m here for you. As long as you’re not quitting, I’m proud of you.”
Sue’s face lit up. “No. Not that. And I hope you won’t give up either, after Jodi’s speech last night. Trust me, I had no idea. I’m not getting in the middle of this, but I would never set you up.”
He nodded and flexed his sore back as they headed toward the milk parlor, his pride smarting more than his muscles. He and Jodi had declared war, yet he hadn’t seen her maneuver c
oming. Irritation fueled his stride as he passed tributaries running down his windowpanes, the barn’s pungent smell strong and close. “I know.”
Sue handed him a cookie. “Good. We bicker, but we wouldn’t betray each other like that.” Her eyes followed him as he circled the milking carousel, inspecting the equipment. “Except Mom.”
Her words clutched at his throat. “Let’s not talk about that,” he said, his voice tight.
“When do we ever?” She dropped the basket on a ledge and grabbed a hose hooked to a cleansing solution tank with a Green Certified emblem, her movement jerky. “She walked out ten years ago and you’ve never mentioned it. Pretended like she didn’t live here. Raise us.”
He studied a broken machine’s underbelly. Better to find faults here than focus on his family’s. Results mattered, and in the end, Mom’s leaving had broken Dad’s spirit, but not their home. He’d made sure of that. When Goldie nudged the back of his leg, he patted her wet nose. Now, that was loyalty.
“It’s easier.” He straightened and pulled off his hat, the moist air doing little to cool his damp forehead. Why couldn’t Sue let Mom go? His mother hadn’t looked back. Hadn’t contacted them.
“Only if you’re in denial.” She squeezed the nozzle and water jetted across the round, raised platform, white foam chasing away the dirt and other matter left behind from this morning’s milking. An odorless mist filled the air.
“What do you want me to say?” Daniel pulled out a paper pad and wrote down the model number for the broken machine. “That I miss her? Wish she’d come home?” He thought of Jodi and how she’d walked out on him that summer, too, but pushed the thought aside. No sense wishing for what he couldn’t have.
“Yes. And more.” Sue used her forearm to slide her glasses into place as she doused the area. “You’ve been so focused on fixing the farm and keeping us out of bankruptcy that you barely talk about anything else. And you only hang out on bowling or Scrabble nights. When was the last time you went on a date...college?”
He avoided her eyes. They saw too much. Besides, he’d needed to earn his bachelor and masters degrees in four years instead of six to help Pop. The pace had made only casual dating possible. Not that he’d been interested in another serious relationship. Not after his summer with Jodi.
“What are you so afraid of?”
“Don’t psychobabble me, sis. I’m fine.” He smiled to take the sting out of his words.
Sue stopped the pulsing water and aimed the nozzle his way. “Keep telling yourself that, Daniel, though you’ll never believe it. Not really.”
The hollowness that made falling asleep by eight impossible and midnight improbable made him wonder. But once he saved his community from Midland, from Jodi and any other threats, he’d rest easier. Families would stay together, their farms intact. It was worth this fight. No matter the cost. Speaking of which...
“Do you think Jodi’s Field Day is still on?” He glanced out the window as a ray of sunshine poked its way through the heavy cloud mass.
“I hope so! Was planning to stop by now that morning chores are done,” exclaimed Colton as he joined them. “Hey. Cookies!” He snatched one out of the basket before Daniel could warn him and bit in. “Ouch! Think I lost a filling!”
Sue jumped and smoothed her shirt, her rounded shoulders back for once. “Sorry. I might have overcooked them.”
Colton beamed and Sue blushed. “Extracrispy, then deep-fried. That’s how I like my desserts. You ever have deep-fried Oreos? Better than anything they make in Par-ee.”
Daniel fought back a smile and turned to flick off the parlor’s lights. His sister responded and Colton laughed, the mingled male and female sounds reminding him of his time here with Jodi the summer before things went bad.
“Let’s all go into town.” Sue’s eyes sparkled behind her square lenses, her face as lit as a Christmas tree. “What do you say, Daniel?”
His mind searched out options and settled on only one. Jodi had made her move last night and now it was his turn. And this time he’d be prepared.
* * *
“WE HAD A late start, but we’ll make up for it with lots of fun,” concluded Jodi as she stood on a wooden dais in the packed village green an hour later. Finally, her plan to acquire Cedar Bay farms felt back on track.
Cheers erupted from picnic tables and activities stations, and folks waved the American flags she’d passed out, a Midland card attached by red, white and blue ribbons.
She lowered her megaphone and hopped off the raised platform, her heels sinking into the spongy ground. Her navy dress slacks and white-and-blue polka-dotted shirt felt sticky in the humidity, but she’d dressed to impress. At least her pinned-up hair left her neck cool.
Thank goodness the weather had improved. A few puddles spotted the grass, but they only added extra fun for splashing children. The adults seemed more intent on the elaborate spread of food Midland had provided. The table laden with roast turkey and beef had the longest line, a hired chef in a tall white hat behind it. Her stomach grumbled at the succulent smells of yeasty sweet rolls, buttered corn and the greasy goodness of fried chicken legs.
But she had no time to eat. Not when she needed to mingle and set up private meetings with the farmers in attendance. When she’d given her speech earlier about Midland’s buyout price per acre and the opportunity to remain in their homes as contracted workers, there’d been smiles and applause all around. The afterglow still filled her, buoying her spirits with the belief that she and Tyler might be back in Chicago within a couple of weeks, the five thousand acres acquired faster than she’d dreamed. Hopefully, that amount of time would help out well-meaning Sue enough. Then again, after her speech at Daniel’s gathering, perhaps Sue wouldn’t want to treat Tyler. All the more reason to get her son home and into his therapy routines until Wonders Primary took him in the fall.
“That was one heck of a speech.”
She pivoted slowly and her lips twisted. Ted. She inched back from the grinning man who, despite a few facial lines, looked like the same kid who’d thrown spitballs at her in elementary school. As they’d gotten older, he’d earned his nickname, Hands, and she’d learned to stay just out of his reach.
“Thanks. Would you be interested in setting up a time to meet and discuss Midland’s proposal?”
Ted’s laugh sounded like an innuendo. It turned a few heads their way, especially Aunt Grace, who cradled Tyler and read him a picture book.
“You bet.” He scribbled his name and number on the sheet but wouldn’t let go of her hand when he passed her the pen. “So when are we getting together?”
“I’ll call you.” She fought to keep the exasperation out of her voice as she freed herself. “Thanks, Ted.”
When he didn’t take the hint, she smiled politely and walked toward a weeping willow where a clump of farmers she recognized from childhood hay-bale rides gathered.
“Rains practically every day,” she heard one of the older men say as he scratched his grizzled jaw. “We’re not going to get much corn out of this year, and then what are we going to do with milk prices where they’re at?”
The rest nodded as she joined them.
“Hey, Jodi Lynn Chapman. How are you doing? How are your folks?”
Archie Remillard’s bear hug squished the air out of her. He’d been her school’s afternoon custodian as long as she could remember. But he must be retired now—though not from farming by the faint, familiar smell coming off his shirt.
“They’re doing okay. Still living out in Arizona, but now they’ve moved in with my grandmother. Mom wants to help her out since she’s having trouble managing on her own.”
Sympathetic noises all around.
“Your dad doing all right these days?”
Jodi’s eyes wandered skyward and tracked a bird winging over the canopy of t
rees shading the boxwood-enclosed area. These were the kinds of questions she’d dreaded when she’d agreed to come home.
“He has his bad ones and his good ones.” It was as close to the truth as she could manage without mentioning his latest rehab stint, the slur in his words when they’d spoken last week. The guilt she felt when she thought of her formerly hardworking father reduced to post-traumatic stress–induced alcoholism and bitterness.
“As for me—” she cleared the lump in her throat “—I’m raising that little guy over there.” She pointed at Tyler and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Sue Gleason kneeling in front of him. Tyler held out Ollie dressed in a pink tutu and a Chicago Bears jersey. Daniel wouldn’t come today, would he? Her lips pressed together. Of course he would. Her heart sank.
“Heard the boy’s no-good father skipped out, huh?”
“Bill. Shut it,” growled Archie. He gave her a sympathetic look. “Sorry to hear about that, Jodi. You’re a nice young woman and any idiot should know that.”
Her eyes pricked at Archie’s unexpected kindness. In fact, all five of the men nodded, their jowls bouncing for emphasis. The solid support propped up something in her she hadn’t known was in danger of falling.
To stop emotion from clouding a business event, she held out her clipboard.
“Thank you, Archie. I’d love to talk more about all of your farms. If you’ll write down your information, I’ll take you to breakfast at the D & H.” It was a local diner and the best greasy spoon in the area. Maybe in the country, now that she thought about it. Before they left, she’d take Tyler. He loved bacon and hash browns, a runny egg yolk coloring his plate bright yellow.
Bill pulled his cap lower and shifted on his feet. “No offense, Jodi, but I’m hoping to convince my boy to give up selling satellite systems and come back to the farm.”
“Oh.” She forced a bright smile. “I hope that works out. Anyone else?”