His Hometown Girl

by Karen Rock

  Jodi wrapped herself in the oversize terry cloth and returned to a canopied porch swing outside. She curled up against a cushion and hit the redial button on her caller ID.

  “Hi, Gail. It’s Jodi. Mr. Williams called me.”

  “Hi, Jodi! How’s Vermont? Better bring us back some maple syrup and cheese.”

  She laughed, her fingers tracing the towel’s zigzagging stripes. “I will. How’s everything?”

  “Insane. I mean, the same.” Gail’s chuckle snuffed out. “Oh, hello, Mr. Williams,” Jodi heard her exclaim. “I’ve got Ms. Chapman on the line for you.” In the brief pause that followed, Mr. Williams’s low voice rumbled. “Of course. I’ll put her right through,” Gail said briskly.

  “Bye, Gail.” Jodi could barely hear herself over her thumping heart. What good news could she share with her superior regarding her progress in Cedar Bay? “See you soon, I hope.”

  “Hope so, too.” Gail cleared her throat then whispered, “I heard the quarterly statements came in. Not good. See you.”

  Jodi’s fingers tightened on the phone. A bad financial report meant Midland would be counting on this deal more than ever. Yet she couldn’t reassure her boss. Would he yank her off the project, force her home before she’d had the chance to earn the promotion...and figure out her strange feelings for Daniel? She shivered as a breeze ruffled the lake’s surface and tossed her drying hair.

  “Jodi,” Mr. Williams’s voice barked in her ear. The seat swung at her startled jump. “I’d like a full report. How many acquisitions have you made? Acreage totals...”

  “It’s good to hear from you, Mr. Williams,” Jodi stalled.

  He snorted. “Sorry, Jodi. Things around here are a little tense right now. No need to worry on your end, though.” His rough tone sounded off, however, and Jodi’s anxiety rose.

  “I’m making solid headway, Mr. Williams. Over a hundred people attended our Midland Field Day.”

  “Good.” His voice brightened. “I saw some of the pictures the photographer sent back for the company newsletter. Was that the Gleason fellow standing next to you with the megaphone?” A swirling, swooshing sound carried through the phone followed by an “Ouch. Darn machine.”

  “Espresso?” she asked, desperate to make this conversation veer in any direction but sales transactions.

  “Yes. Now, back to the photo...”

  “You said ‘know your enemy.’” Daniel’s warm smile and easy way around Tyler came to mind. It was getting harder to see him as her nemesis, despite her words.

  A chuckle carried through the receiver. “Right. Keep them close. Now, about your sales... What preliminary numbers can I run by the higher-ups?”

  Higher up than Mr. Williams? Jodi couldn’t imagine those individuals except that they lived overseas and only appeared on holiday cards. She gnawed on a fingernail.

  “I don’t have any, sir.” Her halting voice frightened her. Where was the confident junior executive she’d been in Chicago? Had a week and a half in Cedar Bay eroded her self-assurance? Her ability to get the job done?

  A tapping pen or pencil broke the prolonged silence. “I see,” Mr. Williams said at last. “That’s unusual for you, Jodi. Anything the matter?”

  She nearly choked on the bitter laugh that swelled. How could she admit that she was failing? That Daniel was besting her, getting under her skin as he had for most of her life. Worse, she was letting down Tyler, who deserved her success more than anyone.

  She straightened her slouch and projected confidence into her tone. “Not at all. Things move a bit slower in Cedar Bay. The farmers need to be treated with special care. It’s the reason the other executives failed and I’ll succeed.”

  Mr. Williams took a noisy sip. “Fine. But the sooner you can get me firm figures the better. There’s some noise about sending Brady to help now that he’s wrapped up the Mexico deal, but I vouched that you’d manage fine on your own. I know how much you want that promotion, Jodi. But you need to get those five thousand acres on your own to earn it.”

  Jodi swallowed over the painful tightness in her throat, then blurted, “Of course, sir.” Brady? The junior executive nicknamed The Rainmaker for his incredible sales record? If he came he’d edge her out and steal acquisitions wherever he could. Worse yet, his sharklike tactics meant he’d mistreat the people who, she couldn’t deny any longer, were important to her. She didn’t want to undercut anyone and she knew he wouldn’t deal as fairly with her hometown as she would.

  “Good. Then I’ll expect an update on Monday with sales data.”

  Four days. Under normal circumstances she should have no problem bringing him good news in that time period. But Daniel was anything but a typical sales obstacle. However, with Brady’s presence threatening like a thunderstorm, she had to show central office she could succeed on her own.

  “Understood. I’ll speak with you then.”

  She clicked off the phone and slid lengthwise onto the swing, her stomach clenching. She had to make this work. Fast. Her eyes closed when a gust ruffled the swing’s canopy, her mind as unsettled as the flapping material.

  * * *

  DANIEL PEERED AT the men and women packing the town hall later that night, their bodies filling up rows of folding chairs while others lined the walls. Impressive. His adrenaline rushed at the thought of laying out his co-op plans to such a large group. The only hitch in his plan was the beautiful blonde striding his way, her tailored black skirt and jacket looking sharp and professional in a way that his all-purpose suit never could.

  He straightened his green tie and rubbed the back of his shorn neck, glad for the haircut Sue had given him after dinner. Despite the dry heat stirred by ceiling fans, he felt cool. Under control. As long as he didn’t look too long at Jodi. He couldn’t resist a peek as she sat down a few chairs away, his eye drawn to the swing of her curved calf and tapered ankle, the arch of her foot as it disappeared into impossibly high heels. How did women walk in those things? Yet she’d waltzed in here as if she owned the place. And that was not a foregone conclusion. Not as long as he had something to say about it.

  The president of the council stood and the murmuring crowd quieted.

  “Tonight we’ll present our community with a couple of proposals to bolster our economy. Each speaker will have fifteen minutes to give a presentation.” Richard Goddard’s red-lined eyes meandered Daniel’s way and narrowed sternly. “A fifteen-minute question and answer session will follow. Daniel Gleason, you’re up.”

  He slung his data posters under his arm and avoided the triumphant gleam in Jodi’s eye. She’d get the last word tonight when the home-court advantage should have been his. Well. He’d make the best of it.

  Thirty minutes later, his knee jittered as the assembly burst into thunderous applause at Jodi’s conclusion. The windowpanes rattled with the group’s raucous whoops and hollers, the thud of clamoring feet echoing off the elevated ceiling rafters. He clapped with them, a polite gesture but also one he meant.

  He’d come to see so much more in Jodi this week, starting with her tender care of Tyler, the faith she’d shown Sue and how passionate she’d sounded tonight when speaking about the dangers of farm life, her earnestness when suggesting that some of the farming families might enjoy a life with a little more downtime. He respected the thoughtful, articulate adversary she was and realized that her job at Midland was about more than a paycheck. She believed in what she did.

  When she’d revealed the mind-boggling price her company would pay per acre, many jaws had dropped. He could practically see those who hadn’t heard the news at her field day doing the math in their heads, slow smiles spreading across their tired faces as they realized how much they’d get for selling their farms.

  While they’d cheered for him about the benefits of collectively bargaining their health care premiums and setting their m
ilk prices, it hadn’t been this loud. In fact, the majority of those who’d clapped were school friends and closer neighbors. Others had looked puzzled when he’d shown them the charts of needed upgrades and had explained that spending money would make them money.

  It was a tough sell, especially when the co-op grant wasn’t a given. But he’d expected more and felt frustrated that he hadn’t reached them as Jodi had. Her dollar signs chased away the sense of community he’d revived at her field day.

  The council president shook back a lock of salt-and-pepper hair and stood. “Thanks to you both. Ladies and gentlemen, there are microphones in either aisle. Please form a line behind them and we’ll take turns asking questions, starting with the right side.”

  Daniel marveled when dozens of people scrambled into the aisles. He’d been clear and his data spoke for itself. Besides, he’d emphasized how his plan would preserve their small farms and community. Maybe they needed more clarification from Jodi?

  Mrs. Lareau, the local librarian, shifted her feet and tapped the microphone hard enough to make it squeal.

  “Ahem,” sounded the tiny voice he remembered from trips into town. “Would you both sum up your proposals in one word? Some of us might appreciate a simpler picture.”

  As they were now seated in the middle of the front row, Jodi’s hip brushed his shoulder when she stood. He rubbed the tingling spot, his nose flaring as it caught the tang of her perfume.

  “Freedom,” she said, then sat again. Her lower eyelid twitch made him wonder if she felt as confident as she appeared.

  “Daniel?” prompted the council president.

  He shot to his feet. Focus. A word. What word could he choose now that Jodi had taken his? Then a thought struck him and he leaned into his microphone.

  “Freedom.” He smiled at the stunned faces staring back at him.

  Who said they couldn’t each have an interpretation of what that meant? If there was a rule about it, he wasn’t following it.

  “Next!” the president thundered, quieting the muttering crowd. A thin man in patched overalls stepped forward. Jack Gowette.

  “I had a different question, but now I’ve changed it.” He adjusted and readjusted his baseball hat’s brim. “Could you both explain what you mean by freedom? My head’s spinning so hard it’s like to fall off.”

  A spontaneous round of clapping broke out followed by a few whistles. Suddenly the friendly crowd felt less welcoming.

  He glanced at Jodi, then stood. It was ladies first in his book, but her tightly clasped hands showed she needed time to think.

  “Owning your own farm means shaping your life—your future—with your own two hands.” His voice echoed back at him over the PA system. “The amount of time you give it, the effort and ingenuity you bring to the table, equals what you get out, plain and simple.” He met Sue’s eyes and returned her smile. “My co-op would preserve our freedoms because we’d still be our own bosses. No jumping to follow orders from higher-ups.”

  When he turned, he caught Jodi’s wry expression before her thick eyelashes fluttered down to rest on pale, creamy cheeks. “Your turn.”

  Jodi smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle in her skirt, then walked briskly to the microphone, looking unruffled as ever.

  “Selling to Midland will give you the freedom to choose the life you’ve always wanted instead of the one you inherited.” Her soft voice strengthened and rose. “Many of you were raised on the farms you now operate. You were expected—no, commanded—to continue raising crops and animals because your ancestors did it. I don’t call that freedom.”

  Daniel kept his face impassive when her blue eyes darted his way. Note everything, give away nothing, he reminded himself. And his biggest takeaway of the night: Jodi’s strength as his opponent came from her intelligence and conviction, not her company’s wallet.

  She faced the crowd once more and waited while a mother with a wailing baby left and the room quieted again.

  “I call that tyranny. With my purchase price, you can start over where you want, doing what you want, for the rest of your life. What’s more, you’ll be free of the dangers and worries that go with private-operation farming. I hope you’ll prefer my kind of freedom to Daniel’s. Thank you.”

  The crowd applauded and Jodi settled beside him. He crossed his ankle over his knee and mulled over how much her family’s tragedy factored into her zeal to shut down small farms. It was a different motivation than the one he’d attributed to the profit-driven businesswoman he’d thought she’d become. At the reunion, she’d admitted that her battle to acquire Cedar Bay farms was personal. Was this what she’d meant?

  “Anyone?” Larry Eveleth, a farmer as old as Daniel’s father, tapped on the microphone, his weather-beaten face creased in confusion. Daniel gave him a startled nod and the man leaned down. “How much experience does each of you have with what you’re proposing?” Suddenly Daniel wished his father could have attended. Hearing the presentation might make him stop wishing Daniel would give up farming. Maybe he’d even embrace the co-op idea.

  Jodi stepped forward and Daniel joined her.

  “Sorry about that Mr. ah...” She gave Daniel a questioning look and he whispered, “Eveleth,” as he pretended to bend and tie his shoe.

  “Mr. Eveleth,” Jodi continued, her tone warm. “I’ve handled hundreds of acquisitions deals with highly satisfied customers. In fact, if you’ll add your name to the sign-up sheet being passed around, I’ll be happy to supply you with references so that you can speak personally with farmers I’ve dealt with in the past. As for Daniel’s experience creating co-ops, I have my opinion, but I’ll defer to him.”

  The wicked twinkle in her eye made him wish he’d never saved her with the “Eveleth” maneuver.

  “My experience with co-ops is largely through my studies and internships at Cornell University as well as trips I’ve taken to visit others in the lower half of Vermont and in upstate New York.”

  Heads came together and a muttering rose from the crowd. Daniel shifted in his tight loafers.

  “May I ask a follow-up question, Rich?” asked Mr. Eveleth.

  The council president cocked his head, then nodded.

  “Why should we trust this co-op? Seems like Jodi’s got a lot more experience.”

  Jodi’s smile bloomed.

  Daniel relaxed his features and clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into the microphone. “She has more experience forcing people off their property. Better knowledge on how to get farmers to abandon a way of life that preserves individuality, family, community and the America our founders envisioned.”

  He paused, enjoying the hush that’d descended and Jodi’s restless movement beside him.

  “She hasn’t even seen any of the farms once they were sold to Midland. So the real question is, what is your experience with me? You’ve known me all your lives. I’m honest, fair, capable and I’ve made a success of my own farm and will help you do the same with yours. It’s a matter of the right kind of experience. Most of all, it’s a matter of trust.”

  Heads came together again and the noise grew loud enough for Rich to bang his gavel. “Quiet please. I’m afraid we only have time for one more question before we get to other town matters. Ms. Spellman?”

  Mary, the classmate who’d supported Jodi at his pig roast, stepped forward, her full skirt swinging.

  “I just wanted to invite everyone to The Lounge tonight. It’s Line Dancing Thursday and I’ll take half off the cover charge for everyone here. Jodi and Daniel, you two are my guests of honor.”

  A roar swept through the back of the crowd where the younger members stood. The older farmers down front smiled and shook their heads as if remembering their own glory days.

  Daniel smiled wide. “Better save a dance for me, Mary.”

  “You’ll have to co
me over, then!” With a wave, she twirled and raced to the doors shouting, “Follow me!”

  “Where are you going?”

  He turned and looked straight into Jodi’s eyes without letting his gaze falter. “To The Lounge. Colton and Sue said they’ll handle the morning milking, so I’ve got the night off to have some fun.”

  Her nose scrunched, making her upper lip look fuller and more kissable than ever. He forced himself to look away.

  “You mean you’re taking the night off to talk more people into getting into the co-op.”

  He shrugged at her accusing tone and propelled himself away from the beauty that drove him to distraction. “If the topic comes up, I won’t stop it.” He kept his voice light and normal. She’d made it clear in the barn the other day that she didn’t want old feelings rekindled. And he didn’t trust himself to renew them either, especially when they grew each time he saw her.

  Jodi caught up to him and they plunged into the soft summer night. “I can stop it.” With her black suit and blond hair, the full moon acting as her backdrop, she resembled an old-fashioned picture of herself. Crickets played their songs in the grass, but they couldn’t compete with the jamboree going on across the street.

  “Then you’d better hurry, because the Cupid Shuffle is playing.”

  He strode to a white clapboard building and heard her heels clicking behind him. Beneath Jodi’s confidence, he’d detected an edge of desperation tonight. That eye twitch. It always gave her away. Was she getting pressure from work? If so, he was glad. Maybe they’d recall her and send someone who’d give him less of a fight. Although the thought of her leaving didn’t fill him with the same satisfaction it had when she’d first arrived.

  Foot-stomping music enveloped him the moment he stepped into the dim, rectangular room. When he stopped to wave at the doorman, Jodi bumped into his back. The brief contact made his eyes close in pleasure until a familiar voice had them snapping open again.

  “Why, it’s Jodi Lynn. You’re looking good tonight.”

  “Ted.” Daniel nodded his head in greeting, trying and failing to keep the growl out of his voice.