His Hometown Girl. Karen Rock
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talked to Layhee.
“Evening, Daniel.” He tensed at the voice. Ted. “And if my eyes aren’t lying, this is Jodi Chapman. How are you, darlin’? You’re breaking my heart in that dress.”
“Oh.” She squinted at him for a moment, and then asked, “Ted?”
“That’s right! Knew you’d remember me from science class.”
“It was social.” Jodi’s eyes met Daniel’s over Ted’s shoulder and her mouth hitched up at the corners.
“Whatever.” Ted shrugged. “It was all the same to me. Hey, listen. I heard you were buying farms and wanted to talk.”
“Perfect.” She arched a triumphant brow at Daniel, Ted’s hand at her waist as he guided her away.
Daniel’s pulse picked up and he tugged at his tie. Not so fast, Ms. Jodi Lynn.
“Ted, isn’t your pickup the red 150 with the flame decal on the sides?” he called after them. Ted turned. “Because its lights are on. Meant to mention it earlier.”
“Darn. Had to give the batteries a jump just to get here.” Ted hurried off and Daniel unfurled his hands.
Jodi tapped her fingers on her hips and glared at him, her nose scrunching in a way that got his heart thudding.
“Was that the ‘help’ you mentioned earlier? Scaring off every person I talk to?” Jodi pulled her note out and scanned the list of names, her eyes lifting from it to the crowd and back again.
“I think you did a good job of that on your own with Pamela Bates. Plus, you should be glad I rescued you from Hands.” It had been Ted’s nickname in high school—earned for a reputation Jodi should keep in mind. “And who else is on that list?”
She turned her back, but he peered over her shoulder, the brush of her hair soft as satin against his jaw. He forced himself to focus and noticed a number written at the bottom of the list. That couldn’t be the price she was offering per acre.
He swallowed hard. With a number that high, who’d say no? This was worse than he’d imagined. Midland had put the best person on the job and armed her with an irresistible deal. He had to stop her. Now.
“Care to dance?” asked one of their classmates, a part-time crop duster and farmer, Frank Trudeau. Jodi smiled and Daniel recalled seeing Frank’s name on her list.
“Actually, I’d rather talk if you have a minute...Frank.”
Frank, one of his bowling team members, caught the small shake of Daniel’s head and took the hint.
“Uh, that’s okay. I was just looking for a dance.”
“Oh.” Jodi’s mouth turned down in disappointment. “Maybe another time.”
“How about a dance with me?” Ted reappeared, out of breath. “Came back as quick as I could before another fellow got you. Oh, and it turns out you had the wrong truck, Gleason.”
Jodi extended her hand. “I suppose this is the only way I’ll get to speak with anyone.”
Daniel paced as he watched her smiling and talking a mile a minute. Ted’s eyes looking unfocused; his hands drifted lower and lower until Daniel couldn’t take it anymore.
“Time’s up, Ted. She’s dancing the next one with me,” he grumbled when he reached them. He forced his face to relax when Ted immediately gave way.
“Of course, Daniel. If I’d known...”
“We have a conversation to continue, Ted. Remember? My offer?” Jodi asked, insistent.
But Daniel held Ted’s eye until he shuffled away.
“Later, Jodi,” Ted muttered.
“Phone me at my aunt Grace’s,” she called, her business card disappearing back into her purse. Her eyes leveled on Daniel. “There’s no reason to behave unprofessionally. And, despite what you said when you dropped us off, this is not a war. It’s business. Big difference.”
He looked down at her and shook his head, unable to resist tucking a strand behind her ear. “Keep telling yourself that.”
When the music switched up to something low and smooth, he pulled her in close, every inch of him aware of the feminine beauty he held in his arms.
“Regardless, he said he planned to sell and knew other farmers that would hear me out. Oh. And he liked my offer. See? Not personal.”
His body tensed as he looked around at the many people who had traveled less than a few miles to be here and at all of their community events. This was their hometown. Who’d be left if Jodi had her way? Pamela Bates? Frank Trudeau? He’d grown up with them. Had imagined them all farming and growing old together. Yet with one check, Jodi would destroy that future. Old men who’d fought to preserve their legacies for the next generation would finish their lives in nursing home corridors instead of on their farms’ front porches. It wasn’t right.
“Look around you.” He gestured at their classmates. “These are people, Jodi, so it’s personal. How can I get that through to you?”
“You can’t. This is a business transaction. Plain and simple.”
A spotlight stopped on them, blinding him before he could insist that it was the end of a way of life. He’d thought the old Jodi might still be reachable, but now he knew the truth. Another Midland suit stood before him. The only difference? She resembled someone he used to know.
“And now it’s time for a speech from our valedictorian,” boomed Frank. “Daniel Gleason.”
Raucous applause exploded around him and he reluctantly let go of Jodi’s hand and took his place on stage. When he looked out at the smiling, cheering audience, the group that had voted him class president, he knew what he had to do. With old men about to get turned out of their farms, and Jodi’s offer too good to turn down, desperate times called for desperate measures. Her refusal to consider others meant he’d run out of options.
He held up his hands until they hushed, and raised the microphone.
“Folks. Looking out at all of you, I see family, friends...Layhee.” He paused for the ripple of laughter to die down and Ted’s attention-getting protests to end. “I see a community of people I’ve known all my life, whose parents grew up together and their parents before them.”
Lots of smiles and nods erupted around the room as well as a few cups of punch raised his way.
Daniel yanked at his tie. It was hot under these bright lights, especially with Jodi’s narrowed eyes fixed on him. He gave her a look that he hoped expressed his silent apology for what he was about to do.
“Farming and family-run businesses have been a way of life in Cedar Bay since our ancestors struggled, sacrificed, fought and died to make the independence we enjoy today possible.”
“Hear! Hear!” someone hollered in the back. Bobby, another one of his bowling pals.
“Our teachers gave us extra time to turn in work during harvest or when we had to get the fields ready in the spring, but they understood—like the rest of our community—that we’re in this together, helping one another. We’re here for each other, whether it’s taking over someone’s milking to give another a vacation, bringing meals every day if someone’s ill, joining forces to repair and rebuild when tragedy strikes.” He avoided Jodi’s eyes. If he met them, he knew he wouldn’t have the heart to go on.
“And that doesn’t even take into account the good times like our potluck dinners overseen by Grace Chapman, Mary’s line dancing, hay-bale mazes at the Darbys’, the Winches’ sleigh rides, our tractor races and watermelon-eating contests and all the other things that go into making our daily challenges worth it.”
“I’m ready to line dance right now!” roared Ted, whose wandering hand moved toward Jodi before