by Karen Rock
“Hi, Ted.” Jodi smiled, her mouth lifting slightly at the corners. “I’m looking forward to our meeting tomorrow.” She cleared her throat. “You don’t plan to cancel, do you?”
Daniel peered from her to a beaming Ted. Why would she question the meeting? It flew in the face of her usual confidence. Unless... He glanced around the room, seeing the rueful looks some of the patrons gave her before they returned to playing pool or darts. Had other farmers canceled? If so, that explained the insecurity he’d sensed. All week he’d imagined her signing deals while he’d toiled in the barns. It’d nearly driven him crazy. That and thoughts of kissing her.
“Of course. Ten o’clock on the dot. Been thinking about it, and you, all week.” Ted wrapped an arm around Jodi. “Mind if I steal her for a dance, Daniel?”
“I do.”
Ted backed off and Jodi’s brows came together as she glared Daniel’s way.
“Right. Wishful thinking I guess.” Ted waved apologetically. “We’ll talk more tomorrow, Jodi,” he called over his shoulder.
Jodi shook her head at Daniel, and a few wavy strands fell around her face. “I can speak for myself and dance with whomever I wish.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it and talk to some of those farmers.” He nodded to a loud group in a corner. “They look like they could use a pitcher.”
Her hand gripped his wrist, her touch a scorching reminder that he was a long way from over her. “I’ve got to get back to Tyler. This is unfair.”
Daniel shrugged, enjoying the sight of his unflappable opponent so flustered. “All’s fair in love and war. Except this isn’t love, now, is it?”
Her face pinked and her gaze slid out from under his. “Of course not.”
The music switched to an old country tune they’d been forced to dance to together in middle school gym class.
“So glad you could make it.” Mary shoved her way between them and smiled wide, her silver hoop earrings brushing her shoulders, a small butterfly tattoo visible on her shoulder. “Remember how Mr. Martin made us dance to this? My brother always plays it.” She nodded to Steve who stood behind a wall of black boxes and blinking lights. “Brings back great memories. I recall you two being partners. Don’t you just miss those days?”
He nodded and Jodi followed suit. Mary was the delta through which all town news flowed. It didn’t pay to offend her.
She cupped her hands and hollered “Steve!” so loud he lowered the music and looked up. “What?” he mouthed.
“Can you start that one over? These two want to dance to it.”
Everyone, including the bar backs, looked up, and Daniel wished he and Jodi were anywhere but here. Seeing her this past week had brought back feelings he’d thought he’d forgotten. At the reunion, he’d wanted to dance with her to get information. Now he knew he’d focus only on Jodi.
The music began and Mary gave Daniel a little shove. “Have at her. Indulge us for old times’ sake. Everyone thought you two would make a great couple when you weren’t scrapping.”
He looked down at a dismayed Jodi. “Guess we can’t disappoint our fans.”
She threw her hands up and he swept her into his arms. And just like he thought, the feel of her brought back their middle school days. He recalled his sweaty palms on her tiny waist and how much he’d tripped because, instead of counting the steps, he’d counted the freckles on her nose. Kind of like now.
“Mr. Martin had some crazy taste in music,” she surprised him by saying, a far-off look in her eyes. “How did that count as exercise?”
Being around her raised his blood pressure. She was the best cardio he could imagine. They moved across the crowded floor, weaving in and out of other couples.
“No idea.” When the tempo changed he twirled and dipped her, their mouths nearly touching as he bent her over his arm for a long, breathless moment. The feel of her made his blood surge.
“Let me up,” she said in a rush, and pushed at his chest, her touch electric. When he straightened, he pulled her closer and smoothed the hair that had come loose from her bun, her locks like silk. He inhaled the light, fresh scent of her and his body tightened against hers. His eyes dropped to her lips and he remembered her taste: honeysuckle and lemon drops. Kissing her had felt like kissing sunshine, and for a moment he lost himself in the glow of that memory.
“Daniel,” she whispered, her eyes shimmering up at him, her voice husky. “People are watching.”
“Let them.”
When she trembled in his arms, he knew she was remembering the afternoons he’d held her this way. How they’d lie snuggled in the deep grass together, the blue sky their only witness. It’d been magic. The ultimate trick, however, had been her disappearing act. The thought sobered him and he loosened his grip. She challenged, exhilarated, frustrated and attracted him like no other. Yet she had crushed him, too, and he sensed that could happen as easily now as it had then if he wasn’t careful. He wasn’t just at war with her, he also battled himself.
As he guided her through the swaying couples, their bodies moved in perfect sync. Suddenly he thought of her ex and felt a rush of jealousy at the thought of her in another man’s arms.
“I’m sorry to hear about your divorce,” he said, and felt her stiffen.
“I got through it,” she said lightly, her eyes sliding from his.
“Do you still see him?” An irrational need to know how much time she still spent with the man seized him. It didn’t matter—or it shouldn’t—yet somehow, it did.
A laugh-snort escaped her and her gaze flew to his. “Not since he left.”
“What about Tyler?” he blurted. The guy might be a fool for not returning Jodi’s love, but he must at least care for his own child.
The music ended and he led her to a table by the window. After pulling out her chair, he straddled his.
Jodi caught her lower lip between her teeth and gazed outside. The sun had set completely and the moon was up, a wedge of creamy white casting its reflection onto the lake. Night wind rattled tree branches, knocking them against one another. “Not Tyler, either,” she said at last, her voice sounding empty. Scraped out.
He found her cold fingers beneath the table and wrapped his palms around them. “He’s a terrible father.” And a horrible person. Who would abandon his wife and child? He’d known she was a single mother, but he’d never known that she was raising her son entirely on her own. After this night of revelations, she’d surprised him again and he admired her even more. What a strong, caring person.
Jodi nodded, her face bleak and beautiful. “Tyler wouldn’t stop crying after his dad left until—”
She froze, then yanked her hands away and stood. “I’ve got to go.”
“Jodi.” His voice stopped her. “I—I—” He broke off, searching for the right words the way he might grope for a light switch in the dark.
She glanced around the bar, the faraway look gone, her expression sharp. “We shouldn’t do this. It’s not good for either of us to get this personal. My focus is on Tyler. Not bars. Not men.” She gazed at him, her eyes pleading. “Not you.”
Before he could stand, she flew out the door, leaving him again.
CHAPTER NINE
“YOU SURE YOU can’t stay for lunch?” Ted dropped a handful of sugar cubes in Jodi’s freshened coffee the next day and sat beside her at his kitchen table.
She ducked her face and breathed in the caffeine rather than Ted’s heavily spiced cologne. Hopefully he’d sign the paperwork and sell her his farm soon. She traced a dark pine knot on the table’s surface. He’d been dancing around the issue for almost two hours now. Beneath the table, she slid her aching toes out of her narrow high heels, then squashed them in again.
“Thanks, but it’s almost time for me to pick up my son.” She angled the purchase agreement towa
rd him. “If you don’t have any further questions, would you sign here—”
“Tyler, right?” Ted pushed a ceramic cow creamer her way and reached for a plate of gingersnaps. “Heard he had an affliction. He’s ah...um—” He seemed to fumble for the words. “Mute?” A crack sounded as he bit into the cookie.
Jodi stirred in the milk and forced herself to sip her sugary drink before she spoke her mind. In the quiet, a grandfather clock chimed the noon hour. Who was Ted Layhee to label her son? Tyler wasn’t mute. He was loving, funny and smart. He just couldn’t or wouldn’t use words right now. But Wonders Primary would fix that, and the sooner she earned her raise to pay their tuition the better, starting with her first sale—the Layhee farm.
“He’s autistic.” She lowered her cup and schooled her face into a friendly expression. Please, Ted. Sell the farm.
“Heard of kids like that.” He spoke while chewing, crumbs dropping to a rooster-patterned table runner.
Kids like that... The words echoed in Jodi’s heart. Would the world ever accept children like Tyler? Would his father? Probably not, and the realization made her ache.
Jodi held up her napkin, pretending to blow her nose but dabbing the corners of her eyes instead. “I see. Now, back to the sale of your farm—”
Ted laid a dry, calloused palm over her knuckles. “Do you want more kids, Jodi?”
She yanked her hand back. “Let’s focus on business, please.” Her tone bordered on abrupt, but she couldn’t help it. After hours of listening to him talk in circles, his comments turning personal and even insulting, her control was slipping.
Ted’s chipped canine appeared in a wide smile, his dishwater-gray eyes speculative. “Know what? You need less business and more fun in your life, Jodi. And I’m your man. Even if your son is...is—” he reached over to a jar on the nearby counter and threw his snoozing dog a biscuit “—isn’t one hundred percent right,” he finished lamely.
Not right? Her chair scraped against the linoleum floor as she bolted to her feet. Enough. “Tyler is perfect! He’s none of your business, and now neither is this.”
She snatched up the purchase agreement, stuffed it in her briefcase and marched out of the house despite Ted’s protests.
* * *
ON THE DRIVE to Maplewood Farm, Jodi fumed. She could catalog Tyler’s differences, every area in which he needed to progress, but no one had a right to point them out. Ted acted as though Tyler was an oddity and her ex pretended Tyler didn’t exist. She swatted the cherry-scented air freshener, needing a clearer picture of her world.
The only thing Peter seemed to notice, and resent, was paying child support. She flicked off the droning radio. This morning, she’d torn up the letter she’d received with the upcoming trial date to lower his child support. There was no way she could deal with that when she had so many other things to handle.
Her growing feelings for Daniel being one of them.
She replayed the shock in his eyes when she’d told him how Peter had rejected Tyler. It touched her that he’d been so horrified. Clearly, he’d never do that to his own children, and imagining him as a father filled her with a strange longing.
It amazed her that, despite everything, Daniel could make her open up as she had at The Lounge. Did part of her still trust him? Care for him? The thought unnerved her.
She stomped on the brakes for a dithering squirrel. When he raced back the way he’d come, she wondered if she should do the same. Go home. Quit. Her foot pressed the gas pedal and the car leaped forward. But giving up would mean letting Tyler down.
In a moment too fast to register, she swerved to keep from overshooting Maplewood Farm and plummeted into the ditch next to the driveway. A hissing sound and puff of white appeared from under the front hood. Her chest ached from the air bag’s impact and she rested her damp face against it while her chest heaved. Could things get any worse?
The humming sound of an approaching tractor confirmed that, yes, it could. The engine quit and, in an instant, her door was yanked open and Daniel’s anxious face appeared.
“Are you okay? What happened?” he asked while he freed her from the seat belt and pulled her out and into his arms.
She could only nod against his chest, his thumping heart loud in her ear. When the trees seemed to tilt, she wrapped her arms around his warm neck and he hoisted her higher, an arm under her legs while another wrapped around her back.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice both rough and tender.
“Thank you.” His solid body quieted her shaking nerves and, after a moment, she was able to look up into his wide hazel eyes. His dark brows were drawn together, a line between them.
“This isn’t my day,” she confessed when she should have kept up her guard. But she felt rattled to her toes and Daniel’s steadiness made her feel safe.
“It’s only noon. The second half could get a whole lot better.” His faint smile faded when her eyes stung. “Jodi Lynn, whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”
She shook her head and buried it against his broad chest, humiliated that he, of all people, had witnessed her at her weakest. “Please let me down.”
“Of course.” And he deposited her on her feet as gently as placing eggs under a warming lamp.
When she stumbled, he caught her around the waist, then let go again when she clutched the car door and waved him off. Her world still spun, but she needed to right it on her own.
“I can pull you out with the tractor.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
He swung himself into the black bucket seat of the tall green tractor and, in one move, reversed it so its back end abutted her bumper. The easy expertise of his maneuver impressed her. Or perhaps it was Daniel and his athletic beauty, the way he held himself, his shirtsleeves riding up on toned biceps, the lean planes of his stomach revealed when he twisted around to ensure they didn’t collide.
Either way, it was a dangerous direction for her mind to travel. When he hopped down and grabbed metal chains from a storage box behind his seat, she averted her eyes. Better not to look at things she couldn’t have.
Once he’d hooked her car to the tractor, he waved a hand.
“If you don’t mind getting behind the wheel again, I can spare you the walk back to farm. Are you still feeling okay? Not faint? You look pale.”
She blew out a long breath. “No. I’m fine. Do you think the car is drivable?”
He rubbed his jaw and eyed it. “The damage looks minor. I’ll check when we get to the house and fix what I can.”
Jodi sighed in relief. She’d been ready to call AAA forgetting that, like most farmers, Daniel knew a lot about repairing machinery and most anything else. She had to admit, there was something attractive about men that handy. Their ability to fix whatever broke appealed to her. Peter had considered any repair besides replacing lightbulbs to be beneath a financial advisor like him.
“I have another meeting after I get Tyler down for his nap.” As shaken as she felt by the accident, another failure frightened her more.
Daniel’s lips twisted. “I’ll do my best to get you there.”
Would he? The unbidden thought made her feel guilty as she slipped back behind the inflated air bag. Last week the answer would have been an emphatic no. Now, after his help today, she wasn’t so sure.
“All set!” he yelled, and she reached around the air bag and honked the horn.
The tractor whined, its tires spinning before gaining purchase on the packed dirt lane. Dust and the strong smell of exhaust blew inside her windows and she cranked up the glass as her aunt’s sedan was freed with a neck-snapping jerk.
Aunt Grace! She hoped the damage wasn’t too severe. Her auto insurance would cover it, but she prayed she and her aunt wouldn’t be housebound. It couldn’t come at a worse time. After last night’s m
eeting she had a list of people to call and meetings to arrange.
While Daniel towed her up the long lane toward his house, she phoned her cousin.
“Hi, Archie. It’s Jodi,” she said when he picked up.
“Hey there, Jodi. Bernice is feeling better today and she baked us a raspberry cobbler.”
Her stomach rumbled. Bernice’s famed desserts were coveted at potluck suppers. She pictured the slender woman with soft curls around her ears, her hands flying as she served up pie, cake, pudding or cobbler. “That sounds great, and please thank Bernice for me. I’m looking forward to seeing you both. Only, I’ve had some car trouble and I might be a bit late.”
Archie made a sympathetic noise. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes stung. How kind they all were here. Even Daniel was giving up his afternoon break to lend her a hand.
“Yes. My car slid into a ditch. I’m being towed now and—”
“Jodi. Let’s reschedule. You’ve had a heck of a day and we can do this anytime.”
Her lower eyelid twitched and her abdominal muscles quivered. “No. It’s fine. I’m okay. Really. Couldn’t be better. And there’s no time like the present. We need to seize the day. Carpe—”
“Jodi.” Archie’s gentle tone was a splash of cool water on her burning cheeks. “You’re not yourself. How about tomorrow? Say ten o’clock? We’ll keep the cobbler until then. Won’t even cut into it.”
“Yes, he will!” she heard a voice holler. Bernice. Despite the letdown, she smiled. They’d always been one of her favorite couples.
Archie chuckled. “Okay. Maybe a small piece. So what do you say? Will tomorrow work?”
Jodi’s hands shook as she tapped her phone’s appointment schedule and saw the empty spot.
“Tomorrow’s fine.” Only it wasn’t. She’d thought Ted and Archie were sure sales. A much-needed boost to her poor record thus far. When she’d made her bed this morning, she’d envisioned slipping under the covers later on, two signed purchase agreements in her briefcase. Now she was empty-handed once more.