His Hometown Girl

by Karen Rock

  A large hand dropped on top of hers again and squeezed. “I do.”

  The steady pressure made her want to open up. After all, what did it matter now that the war was lost?

  “Midland’s sending another executive to ‘help’ me, but we’re actually competing for a promotion based on who acquires five thousand acres first. His name’s Brady Grayson and he’s a junior executive they’ve nicknamed The Rainmaker.”

  Daniel frowned. “He’s not better than you.”

  Her laugh ended on a startled hiccup at his confident tone. “He’s had the most sales this year and he’s out to break a record. Now that he’s coming here and I’m out of commission, I’m sure he’ll have no problem getting it.”

  Despair drummed along the hollow pit of her stomach. If she failed, Tyler would be the one to lose.

  “And why are you out of commission?” Daniel’s voice rumbled over the pickup’s engine as they glided down I-89.

  Jodi looked at him, askance, and pointed to her foot. “I’m not going to make appointments now that I can’t drive and I need Aunt Grace to watch Tyler.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  Jodi blinked at him in surprise. “What did you say?”

  “I said I’ll drive you. Grace can take you while Tyler’s getting therapy, and when he’s done I’ll drive you to afternoon appointments. We can head out again in the evening, after I do my second milking.”

  “But why would you do that?” She still couldn’t believe her ears. “You’ll lose time pitching your co-op. Keeping your own appointments.”

  “How about this.” His eyes slid her way and she stared back at him, shocked. “Let’s set up joint appointments, we’ll both make our case and whoever signs with us signs. No hard feelings.”

  Jodi suppressed a groan, her eyes flitting away from his handsome profile. Oh, there were feelings. Just not the kind that went along with business promotions and bonuses.

  “But all the appointments I have are for people that want to sell to Midland.”

  Daniel flicked on the radio, the sound of a screeching guitar filling the cab until he turned down the volume. “Then I’ll be there to talk them off the ledge. And when you meet my appointments, you’ll have the same chance.”

  Despite her foot, she had to laugh, and he joined her. Their familiar blend of rivalry, friendship and more returned in a melting rush.

  “Good luck.” Jodi grinned, happy despite her injury and her earlier uneasiness about Tyler’s silence in front of her.

  “I won’t need it.” Daniel tapped his head. “I’ve got this.”

  “More like this.” Jodi made a talking motion with her fingers and Daniel chuckled.

  He turned the volume dial down even farther. “Sounds about right.”

  After a moment’s quiet she added, “You don’t need to help. I’ll figure something out.”

  “And let some slick salesman try to take over our hometown.” His dark eyebrows rose. “Uh-uh.”

  Their hometown.

  The rightness of that phrase rang in her ears like a battle cry. Only suddenly, she wasn’t exactly sure which side she was on.

  “We make a good team,” Daniel said in the comfortable silence that had descended as they exited off the highway to a rural route.

  Jodi thought about how they’d saved a life together today. Two, possibly. He was right. They did work well together. What was more, they felt right together. She needed Daniel’s help, there was no way around it, but deep down she knew that things were going to get very complicated. For her, anyway.

  “I’m happy Sandra Dee and her calf will be all right,” she said, her voice strained as she forced her mind back to normal, everyday topics.

  “She’s the last of the season which means, thanks to you, I didn’t lose one.”

  She leaned down and rubbed her foot. “And I know how much you hate losing.” There. A little bit of their old teasing would put them safely in a friendly category. Nothing more. She could admire him from there, couldn’t she?

  “Losing only matters when the prize is special.” He brushed her damp hair from the side of her face and she thrilled at the feel of his calloused fingers. “Especially if it’s something you’ve lost and want to win back.”

  Her breath caught at his words. Did he mean her? Them? She’d always wondered why he’d never come after her. Hadn’t fought more. Giving up hadn’t been like him. But now that she knew about his mother, it made sense. Then again, why dwell on it when it was all too late and impossible?

  “We are still talking about cows, right?” she asked, wishing they weren’t but knowing it was best.

  “If you want to.”

  It was the safer topic. A thought struck her and she turned toward Daniel. “We forgot to name the calf.”

  “I didn’t.” Daniel’s half smile revealed dimples on either side of his mouth. “I’m calling him Tyler.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JODI STUDIED HER swathed foot propped on a recliner a few days later, a red afghan covering her bandages. Despite her best navy suit and yellow silk tank, it wasn’t the professional image she needed for this sales pitch. But she was fortunate to be in Mr. Donaldson’s farmhouse at all. She glanced at Daniel as he discussed his co-op graphs, his muscular physique dwarfing an antique chair.

  If he hadn’t offered to drive her to her meetings, she might be back in Chicago now. She felt a short, sharp pain in her chest at the thought, the hurt worse than her foot’s bruised bones. How strange that her enemy had come to her rescue. He was still clever, wily and competitive, but he’d also grown generous, compassionate and patient. She shifted in her seat, uneasy at her changing feelings.

  His naming the newborn calf after Tyler touched her. It was the kind of thing farmers did for friends’ children, and the sense of normalcy felt good. Daniel treated her son like any other kid. Better, even. She’d never questioned the way the world viewed Tyler: a difficult child, an object of pity, a challenge to be diagnosed and fixed. Yet Daniel’s way of focusing on the good made her feel like a mother whose preschooler did amazing things like recite the alphabet or catch a ball with a glove.

  She pushed the strange thought aside and peered around the low-ceilinged room, dark despite the light forcing its way through dusty blinds. It’d been hard to focus on her sales contract’s fine print when she’d presented it to Mr. Donaldson. She wondered if the place had been properly cleaned since his wife’s passing two years earlier. Sympathy welled as she noticed newspapers, sports magazines, soda cans and overflowing ashtrays littering every surface. A TV tray with an empty microwave meal container rested beside her, a crusted fork and milk-rimmed glass suggesting last night’s supper.

  The poor man needed help but, given his age and the fact that his children had left Vermont, she doubted Daniel’s co-op would be his best option.

  Nevertheless, she didn’t interrupt. So far, they were deadlocked today with one farmer signing on for the co-op and another agreeing to sell. While they’d been silent in the truck after losing to the other, he’d stayed true to his word, as had she. No hard feelings. Their war had turned into a gentlemen’s competition, the real enemy her colleague Brady Grayson.

  Since he’d landed in Vermont a couple days ago, she hadn’t answered his voice mails. With any luck, she’d evade him altogether; although word had it he’d already purchased a number of farms. She bunched her skirt’s fabric, then released it. She and Daniel needed to move fast to lock down the rest of the area, shutting Brady out. Who knew what kinds of unfair deals he might be making with her former neighbors?

  “But I have Medicare,” she heard Mr. Donaldson say, his high-pitched voice at odds with his loose bulk. “I don’t need to worry about health insurance rates. Cookie?”

  When he pushed an open carton toward Daniel, she discree
tly shook her head. It was kind of the older man to do his best to entertain them. But who knew how many treats he had left? Without his wife, he probably didn’t get to the store often.

  Daniel widened his eyes so that white showed all around and shrugged with upraised palms as if to say “I have no choice,” which of course he did, the scamp. Mr. Donaldson missed the silent interaction while fumbling for napkins and lightness bubbled within her at their secret exchange. It felt good to be working side by side, even if it wasn’t together. Though sometimes that didn’t feel like enough. She’d caught herself staring at him as they’d driven around the area, imagining her world a different way.

  Daniel accepted the limp cookie with a gracious smile, then popped it in his mouth. Jodi tried to frown at him, but the corners of her mouth quirked. She wagged her finger as he leaned forward to take another when Mr. Donaldson answered his phone.

  “Stop it,” she mouthed, then clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggle. They were acting like children, and this was a business meeting. What was it about Daniel that brought out the carefree girl she’d once been? Part of her personality she’d given up for lost.

  “I’ll be there with some firewood. See you.” Mr. Donaldson dropped the old-fashioned handset back in its receiver. He peered at them, his face sagging as if the bones beneath had melted—a man collapsing in on himself. “Are you two going to the potluck and bonfire before tomorrow night’s fireworks?”

  Jodi shook her head. She hadn’t seen Independence Day fireworks since Tyler’s birth, his noise sensitivity preventing it. “I’m leaving after the potluck to put my son down to sleep.”

  Mr. Donaldson’s sunken cheeks drew in farther. “You can’t miss out. It’s tradition.”

  “She’ll be there,” Daniel promised, his eyes leveled on hers. “With me.”

  “I’ll only be around to help my aunt with the food,” Jodi corrected firmly. Why was Daniel behaving as if they were a couple? As if the fireworks would be a date? Not that a small part of her didn’t thrill at the idea.

  “Goodness.” Mr. Donaldson threw his hands in the air, then dropped them. “This is all so confusing. I need time to think before giving my answer.”

  Jodi leaned forward, worried that Brady might get to the wavering farmer first. “But the choices are clear, and we need to know—”

  “When you’re sure. Perhaps tomorrow,” Daniel interrupted when Mr. Donaldson’s expression slid from baffled to irascible.

  The deep line between the older man’s brows lessoned at Daniel’s reassuring tone. She shot him a grateful look, impressed. Using a soft sell approach had been a good call.

  “May I offer you more refreshments?” Free of the pressure to make a decision, Mr. Donaldson smiled for the first time since they’d arrived, his dentures a startling white against his weather-beaten skin.

  “Jodi might like a cookie,” Daniel said, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

  She sent him a brief glare and waved her hand. “No, thanks, Mr. Donaldson. I just ate.”

  “But it’s noon now.” His one functioning eye wandered her way in confusion while the glass one remained fixed. She recalled how he’d always held up one end of the banner for the Veterans of Foreign Wars at the Fourth of July parade and how they’d all scrambled for the candy he’d thrown from a bucket attached to his belt loop. It’d been one of her favorite childhood memories, as anticipated as opening her Christmas Eve present or getting the drumstick on Thanksgiving. Only now she had no one to buy her presents and, since Tyler didn’t like turkey, they ate chicken nuggets and watched cartoons on the holiday. Life had certainly changed. For the first time, however, she wondered if it was for the better.

  She pressed a hand to her stomach. “It was a big breakfast.”

  The farmer shrugged, his white tank top drooping beneath a frayed plaid shirt. “Suit yourselves. So are you two a couple again?”

  “What?” they both asked, their raised voices registering equal decibels of shock.

  The war veteran shrugged. “You two looked cozy that day I returned Daniel’s father’s combine.”

  Jodi flushed at the fire that leaped in Daniel’s eyes, the memory of their heated moment ten years ago rushing back. She could almost feel the rough wood of the wall at her back, Daniel’s large hands splayed on either side of her face, his muscular arms caging her in a trap she’d had no intention of escaping, the passionate kiss they’d exchanged until Mr. Donaldson had cleared his throat behind them.

  “That was a long time ago.” She folded her hands in her lap and pushed the recollection back where it belonged—oblivion. Kisses and romance were not a priority. Tyler was. And that would never change.

  Mr. Donaldson pulled an inhaler out of his breast pocket, held it up to his mouth and pressed. After a deep breath, he said, “Seems like yesterday.”

  “Feels like it to me.” Daniel’s voice was light, his eyes piercing.

  “Those were the days.” Mr. Donaldson’s smile pushed his cheeks so far up into his eyes that he didn’t seem to notice their silent, charged exchange. “I used to stack hay bales for hours, but now my torn rotator cuff’s got me pretty much laid up.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Donaldson. You should get it fixed.” Her heart went out to him. He really needed to retire.

  He nodded. “That’s what my doctor tells me. Except who’s going to take care of my cows? I only got the fifty, but still...”

  “I’ll help out,” Daniel offered. “And when we form the co-op, we’ll cover for each other to allow for sick time and vacations.”

  Jodi made a face. So much for the soft sell. If he wanted to play hard ball, then so could she.

  “On the other hand,” she spoke up, “you could take Midland’s offer, get your shoulder fixed and retire in comfort. Maybe near your son in Georgia? I heard he was expecting a child.” She arched an eyebrow Daniel’s way. She’d done her homework.

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed and Mr. Donaldson beamed. “It’s my first grandchild. A boy. And they’re naming him after me.” He pulled out a grainy photo on slippery paper and brought it over to her. “This is Arlen Jr.” His shortened index finger traced an oval shape in a dark area. “He’s due in October.”

  Jodi studied the picture. “Congratulations. I bet you’ll be happy to be there for the birth.”

  Mr. Donaldson tucked the picture away in his shirt pocket and nodded. “I would.”

  Jodi pulled out her purchase agreement. “So then, if you’d like to sell—”

  The farmer looked around the small living space, his expression far away. In the silence, the only sound came from the whispering of the trees outside and the low ticks and groans from the walls, the usual old-house arthritic noises. The terrier behind her woke, scrambled to its feet and bolted straight into a nearby wall. It shook its head, tottered back to its sleep spot and resumed snoring.

  The commotion startled Mr. Donaldson from his thoughts.

  “Is he okay?” Jodi peeked around her seat.

  “Max? He’s fine.” He leaned over and rubbed his pet. “Just an old fart like me. Dreams he’s running through fields when he can’t even keep up with my tractor anymore.”

  “When you sell your farm, you and Max can take walks whenever you like,” Jodi pushed, ignoring Daniel’s head shake.

  With a sigh, the aging farmer settled on the couch again. “I know. But I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave yet. Lots of good memories here. See that patch on the wall?”

  Jodi and Daniel looked.

  “My younger brother and I used to pretend we were King Kong and Godzilla. One day I threw him so hard his head went right through the plaster.” Mr. Donaldson’s breathy laugh sounded. “My mother was so mad she clobbered me over the head so I’d have a bump the same size.” He twisted his wedding ring. “Yep. Lots of good memories here
.”

  Daniel rose and extended a hand. “Then it’s better not to rush into rash decisions you might regret.”

  When his eyes flashed her way, she wondered if he had any regrets that included her.

  * * *

  THE SETTING SUN bathed Lake Champlain’s sandy shoreline in softest gold the next evening. From a thicket of swaying ash trees, a twilight chorus of starlings rose, the cool breeze rippling the darkening water’s surface.

  Daniel touched an elongated lighter to citronella lamps dotting the beach, the stringent lemon smell repelling the nagging mosquitoes. The smoke made his eyes burn. He glanced over at the picnic-table area, his eyes searching out Jodi amongst the potluck supper’s cleanup crew.

  Because of the holiday, there hadn’t been any scheduled meetings and he’d missed her. It amazed him how quickly he’d grown used to having her around. Without her, the day had crawled, a hollow feeling overtaking him, even when he’d played fetch with Goldie and fed the barn cats. If he felt this way now, how would he feel when she returned to Chicago? His gut twisted.

  As he strode across the damp sand, he glimpsed Jodi before she disappeared from view. Other than greeting him when she’d served him his plate, they hadn’t said much to each other. Yet he’d caught her eye a few times when he’d searched for her in the crowd.

  Had she missed him, too? When he’d picked her up at the airport weeks ago, she’d seemed distant and changed. But now, after their time together, he’d seen more sides to her. Flashes of the old Jodi mixed with the new, a poised and strong woman who braved a charging heifer and a caring mother who conquered her fear of machinery to take her son on a tractor ride. She was tough and vulnerable, business-minded and caring, funny and a bit sad at times and most of all, intelligent. Her sharp, clever mind attracted him to no end. He appreciated a woman who could put him in his place—when he let her.

  He waved to a family heading toward the beach and lit the last torch. When the father settled his son on his shoulders, Daniel felt a pang, wishing he could be that man for Tyler. The determined boy who laughed from his belly and cared for his stuffed toy had also found a place in Daniel’s heart. Both son and mother seemed happy here, so what was her real reason for needing to leave?