His Hometown Girl

by Karen Rock

  “Amazing isn’t it?” Daniel called, one hand laced with Sue’s and another with his great-aunt Mrs. Dubrey’s. “We are all connected, either through blood or marriage, and this is our living family tree. It’s a reminder that, as a family, we need to stick together.”

  A drop of rain fell and then another, and Jodi felt like crying along with it. It touched a chord in her to see familiar people who were related to her in ways she hadn’t realized. Funny. She’d been looking for Daniel’s next sharp jab. Instead, he’d blindsided her with such a sentimental gesture. It cut deeper than anything else he could have thrown her way. Yet she couldn’t find it in her to hate him for it. Quite the opposite in fact.

  “Raise your hands, family,” Daniel shouted through pelting rain, and when Archie threw his hands up, Jodi’s went along with them.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE DASHBOARD CLOCK flicked to 9:00 a.m. as Jodi drove to Tyler’s first therapy session with Sue the following day. Getting him out of the house had been a struggle, and the soft classical music that played soothed her jumping nerves. Aunt Grace had loaned Jodi her car, since she rarely used it. Midland would have paid for a rental, but her aunt wouldn’t hear of it, insisting they were expensive and unreliable.

  She turned off I-89 to the road leading to Maplewood Farm, her palms slippery on the steering wheel, her mind as snarled as the tangle of weeds sprouting by the roadside.

  While her field day had been a hit, thoughts of Daniel had lingered as she’d drifted off to sleep. Their day competing together had resurrected feelings she’d thought were long buried. As far back as her memory stretched, they’d battled, made up, competed, forgiven, fought and excused each other. Jodi turned up the air-conditioning and angled it toward her face. She wouldn’t let their old cycle begin again. She’d come too far to go back.

  Yet Daniel’s living family tree demonstration had moved her more than she dared admit. No matter the distance, he’d proved that Cedar Bay was still her family. A sliver of doubt pierced her confidence. Was she right to help Midland break up her hometown?

  A glance in her rearview mirror, however, bolstered her. Tyler, secured in a car seat in the middle of the backseat, hummed and flew Ollie by her ears. The toy’s pink sequined top reflected the morning light, her camouflage pants and ballet slippers making Jodi smile. Tyler certainly had a way with style. She looked down at her functional gray business suit. Maybe he’d give her some tips one day.

  “Cah!” Tyler’s feet smacked the back of her seat, his body wiggling in excitement when they passed a field of grazing animals.

  “Can you say cow, Tyler?” A cherry air freshener swung as she swerved to avoid a pothole, the fruity scent making her sneeze.

  “Cah!”

  She reached back and rubbed his soft knee. “Coooow.” When she returned her hand to the wheel, a memory of his third Christmas came to mind. Tyler had ripped off the wrappings to a farm-animal light-up board and screamed “cow.”

  Today cow was cah.

  Heaviness filled her heart. Hopefully she’d been right to accept Sue’s therapy offer. Tyler needed help, but what if Sue grew impatient with him? Wanted more progress for her dissertation than Tyler could give?

  A sob signaled Tyler had dropped Ollie and she reached behind her, groped for the elephant’s tail and passed it over. Tyler kicked her seat again and she smiled. She’d take any form of thank-you she’d get.

  “You’re welcome,” she called, and peered at Tyler’s reflection again. One day, Wonders Primary would help him say the actual words. And the sooner she met with farmers and bought some land, the better. Once she dropped him off, she’d phone the farmers on her list and set up times to get together.

  “Bah!” Tyler shouted, and pointed at a herd of white lambs grazing on a shorn green hill.

  “Sheep,” she said. “Baaaaah.”

  Tyler clutched his belly and laughed, the deep sound making her lips twist despite her rising nerves. That pasture meant Daniel’s farm would be around the next corner.

  “Baaaaaaah,” he called. “Baaaa—” he started until a giggle fit overtook him.

  She recognized the fields of stunted corn flashing by and her mouth went dry. Any minute now and they’d arrive. Before the field day, she’d felt like she knew Daniel. Could handle him. As her boss pointed out, he was a familiar enemy. But now her image of her “nemesis” seemed blurred and tattered around the corners. She couldn’t get a clear picture of how to act with him.

  His protective defense of her son on the KanJam field impressed her. Even more surprising, he hadn’t cared about losing the game in order to stand up to that ignorant man. It was a grown-up, less competitive side of Daniel she’d never seen before. The fact that she admired it, and him, unsettled her.

  The silver glint of a silo made her pulse speed. A sign that read Maplewood Farm loomed, followed by a rambling two-story farmhouse, as she turned onto a long dirt driveway lined with sugar maples. A green canopy arched overhead, spots of light splattering the packed roadway like crystals. Too bad the pretty surroundings hid a potentially dangerous way of life. Even before her father’s accident, the hard labor of farming had taken a toll on her family.

  Goldie bounded out when Jodi pulled around back and turned off the engine. It ticked in the quiet until she gathered her courage.

  “Ready to go, Ty?” She slid out, gave Goldie a head rub and opened the back door.

  He covered his ears at Goldie’s exuberant barking and shook his head.

  “We’ve got to go, babe.” She unsnapped the seat belt and Tyler scooted to the opposite door, his face buried in his stuffed animal.

  To both their surprise, Sue opened the door behind him and he tumbled out into her arms. “Way to make an entrance, Tyler. You get a fist pound for that.”

  She set him on his feet and held out her hand. Tyler looked from her to Jodi, then yelped when Goldie bounded around the bumper.

  Jodi’s stomach twisted. Hopefully Sue could handle this or she’d be taking Tyler home in a few minutes instead of a couple of hours.

  When Sue held out her hand, Goldie sat, tongue lolling in the early heat. Tyler’s tears dried to a sniffle when she offered him Ollie.

  “Would you like to see my playroom?”

  Tyler stared at a field of Jersey cows. “Cah!” His blue eyes swerved from the stomping heifers to her.

  “Is that a yes?” Sue smiled.

  “He means cow.” Jodi took Tyler’s hand. “But yes, the playroom sounds great.” The sooner she inspected the facilities, the better she’d feel about this.

  To her surprise, they walked away from the house and crossed the wide dirt area that connected the barns to the field. The pungent scent of cow manure filled the air and a wave of nostalgia overtook her. She wondered, as she peered into the field, if the cow that she and Daniel had birthed together, Jodi he’d named it, was still there. Dairy cows usually dried up before ten years and were sold to slaughterhouses. Sadness for the big-eyed brown cow with a white diamond on her forehead flooded her.

  She sighed and looked around the bustling farm for signs of Daniel. The lanky young man she’d spotted with Sue yesterday strode by wheeling a stack of cement bags. He jerked his chin, smiled but didn’t stop. Yet Sue blushed to her roots and fumbled with her glasses before they resumed walking. Cows mooed in a fenced-in pasture while hens pecked and clucked behind chicken wire. Large, wooly animals in a pen, alpacas, lifted graceful necks and peeked at them through long eyelashes.

  Sue opened the main barn’s side door and gestured for them to enter.

  “This is my temporary office.”

  At the top of a staircase, Sue unlatched a gate and they entered a spacious area with a slanted roof. Light poured from large skylights and windows at each end of the room. The warm tones of the natural pine walls and roof, combi
ned with the colorful toys and children’s furniture, made Jodi’s breath catch. Pretty.

  Tyler toddled toward a train table, his fast gait making him stumble. Sue caught him as he passed by.

  “Steady, kiddo.”

  His eyes stayed on the trains and he tiptoed over at a slower pace. Jodi’s heart swelled. If nothing else, he’d enjoy his time here, and Aunt Grace wouldn’t need to watch Tyler while Jodi worked.

  “Thanks so much, Sue.” She watched Tyler sit Ollie on top of a large, semicircular, wooden train station. “He loves trains.”

  Sue nodded. “Good to know.” She gestured to a pair of rocking chairs that held cushions with blue-and-green crocheted coverings. “Let’s talk while Tyler’s playing, okay?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Juice?” Sue gestured to a minifridge and Jodi shook her head.

  “You’ve thought of everything.”

  “No. Daniel did. He built this for me as a graduation present in case I wanted to do some private practice work here. Only...”

  On impulse she leaned forward and grasped Sue’s cold hands. “You will graduate.”

  Sue raised her head, her eyes bright and focused on Tyler.

  “I will.”

  A fierce wish for Sue to succeed overtook Jodi. Not just for Tyler’s sake, but for this capable young woman. She remembered how Sue, an advanced math and science student, had spent time tutoring Jodi through the final exams she’d missed when her father had lost his arm. Instead of kicking off her summer with the rest of her friends at a lakeside party, Sue had pored over note cards, quizzing Jodi so late that one night they’d both fallen asleep in a clean, empty stall. She smiled at the memory and at the young woman who’d once treated her like family.

  Sue handed her a folder. “Here is what I observed with Tyler during our first meeting, and I’ll be conducting more evaluations today.”

  Sue must have read the expression on Jodi’s face because she hurried on. “But they won’t be like traditional tests. I’m going to bring him out on the farm a bit, not near any, um, equipment.” She cleared her throat as Jodi tried to snatch a full breath. Tyler outside? On the farm? This room she liked. The farm, not at all.

  “I’d rather he stayed in here.”

  Sue’s mouth turned down. “That’s what my advisor would say. But I believe that, supervised appropriately, autistic children need to be immersed in the everyday world. Contributing to it as much as learning. It gives them a sense of purpose, even at Tyler’s age.”

  Jodi rocked her chair and tried not to look as skeptical, or fearful, as she felt. “What can he do?” She glanced over at Tyler and watched him fly a green train over the tracks.

  “He’s going to help me raise my alpacas, weave cloth, make things.” She gestured to a wooden loom in a corner.

  Jodi held up the pot holder maker Sue passed her. “He’ll use this to make cloths?”

  “Yes. But more important, he’ll make gains in fine and gross motor skills, his attention will improve and vocabulary enrichment in real life settings will occur.”

  “I’m not sure about him being around the alpacas.” The sweet-looking animals had seemed placid enough, but appearances could be deceiving, like the time she’d mistaken a placid cow’s grazing for acceptance into her field. But the heifer had charged her all the way to the goose pond where Jodi had cowered behind an enclosure until Daniel’s father rescued her. The unpredictability of such situations made her shiver.

  “I promise they are the gentlest creatures, but to be safe, I’ll have them in a separate pen when I clean out their areas and feed and water them.”

  “Tyler won’t be able to do all that,” Jodi exclaimed. At Wonders Primary, he’d play dress-up and make puzzles. Here he’d be shoveling out pens, or trying to, if he didn’t get distracted by a nearby chicken, a wind gust or even a passing cloud....

  Sue nodded, her hazel eyes certain, her mouth firm. She straightened the elastic bottom of her sleeveless yellow top. “He can do something, even if it’s handing me the shovel. I know it’s unconventional, Jodi, but I promise you that I will keep him safe and I’m certain it will bring results. My research shows that working and playing outdoors, selective indoor therapy and the organic diet that’s outlined on the purple sheet you’re holding will do more than help Tyler behave appropriately. He’ll gain control of his responses to the environment, lessening his fear and increasing his willingness to interact with it and people.”

  Jodi twisted her locket’s chain. Tyler was everything to her. Did she dare leave him?

  As if reading her mind, Sue rushed on. “I won’t take my eye off him for a second. I’ve devoted my life to working with children and I would never put him in harm’s way. Believe me, Jodi, it’s not just because my dissertation depends on it, but because I care about ensuring Tyler’s well-being and helping him progress.”

  Jodi nodded at Sue’s contagious excitement, taking in about every other word. It would be nothing short of a miracle if she proved her thesis. Imagine if Tyler regained his speech? Her pulse sped until she tamped down the false hope. Sue was well-meaning and brilliant, but her theories were untested.

  “Sounds great.” She stood and put a hand on Sue’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it.” It took everything she had not to show her reluctance to leave Tyler. On a farm. Surrounded by all kinds of dangers. Yet she’d known Sue all of her life and trusted her.

  “He’ll be safe, Jodi. Promise.”

  “Of course. Thank you.”

  She strode to the train table and squatted beside her son. “Mommy’s going to leave you with Sue for a while. Okay?”

  Tyler continued waving the train in the air and smashing it against Ollie’s round belly. She squelched her familiar disappointment at his dismissal, kissed the top of his head and made for the stairs. “When should I return?”

  “I’m just evaluating today, so an hour.”

  “Okay. Call me if anything comes up and I’ll drive back sooner.”

  “Will do.”

  Jodi trod down the stairs, her fingers massaging her aching temples. Please let Tyler cooperate and behave. Both he and Sue deserved this opportunity.

  * * *

  DANIEL LATHERED HIS hands and face in the barn’s sink and flinched at the ice-cold water. But he had to hurry if he meant to intercept the lithe gray-suited form passing by.

  “Leaving already?” he called, and Jodi turned, her golden hair swept off her face and pinned up in a simple style that emphasized her slim nose and delicate jaw.

  “Morning, Daniel.” Her voice was as smooth as her skin, her expression impersonal. It made him want to shake her, remind her of who she was, where she’d come from. And here was the perfect opportunity.

  “Morning. Since you’re waiting for Tyler, I thought I’d show you my barns.”

  A telltale pink rushed along her cheekbones and he wondered if she thought about their secret trysts here. He had lately.

  “I mean the changes I made,” he added, assessing her, noting her wide blue eyes that darted everywhere but in his direction. “Lots of improvements. Even Midland would approve.”

  “Maybe another time.”

  “No time like the present.” His smile faltered when she stepped back from him. “Please, Jodi. Don’t you at least want to see co-op farming in action, know firsthand what it is you’re discrediting?”

  It was a bit of a low blow, but then again, her ambush at his pig roast the other evening had been below the belt.

  She cocked her head, her eyes considering.

  “Besides, it makes good sense to know your enemy.”

  Her gaze met his and, to his relief, she nodded.

  “Fine, but just a short tour. I’ve got some people to call.” She stepped out of her heels and slid into calf-length rubber boots b
y the doorway.

  He tried and failed to stop the smile at seeing her perform that simple, familiar move.

  “I’ll show you the milk parlor first. We get a lot done in there, and then I’ll show you the stall-cleaning system. And the stalls are wider. Gives the cows more room. The silage is different, too. It’s my own blend of organic grown crops and—”

  “Oh—” Jodi stopped short and stared at the cow in an isolated stall, her leg bandaged, the white diamond on her forehead against her brown hide unmistakable. “Is that—”

  Daniel looked down, and then to the side. How much would she read into what he was about to confess? “Yep. That’s Jodi.”

  Jodi stepped closer and ran her hand over her namesake. “Are you still milking her?”

  Daniel shook his head. “She dried up a couple years ago,” he admitted. “Now if you’d like to see the—”

  “So why haven’t you sold her?”

  He blew out a breath. Since he hated lying, he had no choice but to speak the truth. “I should have, but I didn’t want to lose her.” The cow held too many memories for him to let go of her easily.

  “Oh.”

  For a breathless moment they stared at one another until a whistling Colton passed by and stopped, took off a glove and held out a hand. “I’m Colton, and you’re Jodi, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Daniel’s farmhand. Been working here since—”

  His voice trailed off when he caught Daniel’s eye. “Was I interrupting something?”

  “Not at all. Actually, Daniel was just giving me a tour. Would you like to come along?”

  Colton’s shoulders lifted then lowered. “Can’t. I usually help Sue with the alpacas after my morning chores.”

  “I didn’t know Sue had help with them.” Jodi’s face relaxed and her shoulders lowered.

  Daniel had assumed he’d been the reason for her nervous behavior, but now he saw that she was anxious for her son. Beneath her city suit and designer look, she was a mom. A good one. He shifted, unsettled at this positive view of the new Jodi. Could he admire his enemy?