Читать книгу His Hometown Girl - Karen Rock - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

AND WAR IT was, regardless of the fact that Jodi had been on his mind nonstop during his afternoon chores, his ever-present retriever, Goldie, at his heels. He could fool himself. Think he was strategizing. But the truth was he kept picturing the smile she’d given him when he’d rescued Tyler. And the way her blue eyes had warmed to him—even for a short while.

He cranked off the engine on his feed blower, stepped out and pulled off his hat, letting the fans sweep his damp hair away from his forehead. Who was he kidding fantasizing about Jodi? Their short-lived relationship had left scars. She’d been right to accuse him of pitying her. He had felt bad about what’d happened to her family. It was the reason he’d put a stop to their rivalry and started being nice to her.

But when their truce had turned to romance, it’d been hard to separate those feelings. To know where one emotion ended and the other began. When she’d asked him if he’d dated her out of pity, he’d struggled to express himself clearly.

Looking back, he understood that he hadn’t been mature enough to handle the situation. It’d been complicated, and she’d run off, quit, before he’d figured out how to explain without offending her or revealing his own family’s secrets.

Her father’s accident had left Daniel’s family in a bad place financially. Replacing the skid loader her father had broken had pushed Daniel’s cash-strapped family over the edge. That was the real reason he’d convinced her to keep their romance a secret—he didn’t want to give his parents another excuse to argue. After all, she’d been the source of his family’s strain. He rubbed the back of his tense neck. But that was a long time ago; they weren’t teenagers anymore.

In fact, like Jodi, he’d moved on. He had dated other women, although none as seriously. He had too many things to focus on before settling down, his updated farm being one of them. He looked on with pride at the orderly rows of newly widened stalls. Brown jersey cows stuck out their heads and nipped at his homegrown organic silage, their lowing filling the barn. Besides sunrise, this was his favorite time of the day, when the last of his herd had exited the mechanized, circular milking parlor and returned to stalls heaped with sweet straw bedding, their eyes drooping from a long day at pasture, many on their knees already.

“All set there, Daniel?” A gawky young man waved at him from farther down the center aisle. His hired hand was a decent guy who mostly kept to himself. Hopefully, this one would last out a full year. Colton was one of the best workers he’d found in a while.

“Pretty much. I’m about to head up. Are you coming for supper?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I’ve got to set the timer on the mister and change out of these.” He plucked at his tan coveralls.

“Sounds good. We’ll hold the meal for you.”

A striped barn cat wound its way through Daniel’s legs and touched noses with a tail-wagging Goldie. Cat and dog. Natural enemies. Yet they’d found a way to get along. Would he and Jodi ever find that peace? He gritted his teeth. Only if she saw the light—like the mellow gold shafts striping the sawdust-covered floors. No business office could compete with this. It was majestic.

And Jodi shared that quality. It had made her his fiercest enemy growing up, and the subject of many boyhood dreams—one of which had briefly come true. He paused to look at a mound of hay in the same place as the one where they’d kissed ten years ago. It was a memory best forgotten, especially now that they were locked in this “winner take all” battle.

If she had her way, his jerseys wouldn’t be brushed nightly, given hours of outdoor time or slipped a carrot when they looked a little off, because yes, despite having three hundred head, he knew them all that well. Had birthed them and named them himself. They were a family of sorts and he never could look at them as pure dollar signs.

He slopped milk into a trough left out for the cats. The orange tabby had already been joined by three calicoes, a gray short hair, a tailless Manx, and a rag-doll cat he couldn’t resist picking up and letting flop across his forearm. He rubbed its belly fast before its claws came out, then put it down where it shoved its way into the growing crowd. He noticed a Persian hanging back. Huh. He’d never seen it before. Must have been another midnight drop-off from a regretful pet owner.

The skittish cat raced from him as he approached, but in minutes he had it cornered and in a pet carrier. He strode up the small knoll to his gray, plank-sided, two-story farmhouse where the smell of pot roast and onions made his stomach growl. For a moment he imagined what it’d be like to have Jodi there, waiting for him, but shook off the foolish thought. As soon as she left town, she’d disappear for another ten years, maybe forever.

Feeling hollow, he trudged up the back porch steps, which badly needed a coat of paint, and pulled open the screen door. He shrugged off his plaid overshirt and stepped inside the narrow hallway lined with framed pictures of his ancestors, their smiles absent, but their eyes content. He grinned at his grandfather’s 1957 tractors calendar, glad they’d never had the heart to take it down.

“Sue!”

His sister appeared in the door frame, her glasses askew on her narrow nose, her short dark hair standing up in odd places.

“Tell me you didn’t fall asleep and forget to turn off the oven.”

Her hazel eyes widened and she tugged at the collar of a top she’d probably crocheted herself. “I’m sorry, Daniel. You know I’m useless in the kitchen.”

He passed her the pet carrier. “Did you start the water on the potatoes?”

“Ten minutes ago.” She peered into the plastic container. “Who’s this rapscallion? Don’t remember seeing it around.”

He glanced up at the worn edge of the Scrabble box perched on the hall-closet shelf and whistled. Last weekend, their traditional Saturday night game had ended after three hours and a few words that weren’t allowed on the board.

“Nice word. A fifteen pointer. As for this guy, he looks like another drop-off. Thought you might bring him to the vet tomorrow. Get him checked out, shots, neutered...you know.”

His sister heaved a sigh and poked a finger in the cage to stroke the cowering feline’s nose. “Oh, I know. We’re practically an animal dumping ground.”

“It’s not just us, Sue.” He sniffed and calculated. He’d put the beef in the roaster when he got back from picking up Jodi, so it was probably burned on the bottom. And the potatoes he’d peeled would still be as hard as rocks. Another typical Gleason meal. “I’m going up to shower but I’ll be down in ten to help finish.”

His sister gave him a small salute and took the pet container. “Will do, Cap-i-tan.” It was their inside joke from the days he’d earned enough badges to move on from Eagle to Life scout. “Oh, and is, uh...Colton joining us?” The toe of her flip-flop circled the rag rug in front of her.

“Yes.” He kept his face neutral at her less-than-subtle crush on his employee and raced upstairs. After a quick shower he was back in the warm kitchen. He kissed his sister on the cheek as she stood by the stove, wearing his mother’s old green-checked apron. Steam rose from the potatoes she whipped and turned her face a bright hue—that and a lounging Colton sipping coffee at the table.

“Smells good, sis. Hey, Colton.”

The farmhand looked up from the sports section, his work coveralls replaced with a T-shirt and jeans. “Looks like the Hawks won again. They’re moving on to the state finals. Sure wish I could go.” When he took off his Hawks cap and studied the emblem, his light brown hair lay flat against his skull and curled beneath his ears.

“When is it?” Daniel asked.

“Next Thursday. But I can’t bike to Rutland and back. The game starts at three.”

A spoon clattered to their red-tiled floor. “I could drive you.” Sue spoke without looking up as she grabbed the utensil. “I mean. You could use my car. Or I could come and you could drive, or—”

Time to leave before his sister’s nervous flirting made him chuckle out loud. He headed for the double parlor at the front of the house.

“Hi, Pop.” Daniel stopped and let his eyes adjust to the sight of his frail, trembling father seated in a rocking chair, an afghan of Sue’s design across his lap. It was hard to reconcile the image with what he remembered—his hearty father overflowing the chair, two kids and a dog on his lap, his mother laughing at all of them.

But that was a lifetime ago. Or at least it felt like it.

“Supper’s ready. Susie made a roast.”

His father lifted his chin and sniffed. “Smells like she burned it again.”

Daniel unfolded the walker in front of Pop’s chair and helped him to his feet. “We’ll cut off that end.”

His dad laughed, a faint sound that ended with a coughing fit. “We always do,” he wheezed out.

Step by step they made it to the kitchen.

“Smells good, darlin’.” His father lifted a shaking hand to Colton and lowered himself into the chair Daniel held out.

“Thanks, Pop. I think everything’s on. Who wants to say grace?”

“Good potatoes. Good meat. Good God, let’s eat.”

Everyone laughed at Colton and started passing the heaped dishes of mashed potatoes, sliced pot roast, bread, sweet pickles and boiled turnip—or microwaved, Daniel supposed, given Sue’s last-minute rush. Even so, it all looked great.

“So I ordered that wind turbine today, Pop.” Daniel scooped some potato onto his father’s plate, waited for a nod then piled on more. “Between that and the solar panels, we should be set for power this winter.”

His father nodded. “It’s a good thing to be independent. Never regretted a dime on educating you and your sister. Though I wished you’d done something else with your life.” He looked away, as he always did, when Sue reached over to cut his meat.

“I saved the farm from bankruptcy. That’s doing something.” Daniel kept the heat out of his voice, despite his words. Pop meant well and wished his worsening Parkinson’s hadn’t forced Daniel to take over the farm after college. Daniel would have chosen to return anyway. It’d just happened sooner than he’d planned.

“Bud Layhee stopped by today,” Pop continued, scooping some potato with a shaking hand. “Says his son Ted can’t keep the farm going with milk prices where they’re at. They’re borrowing thirty thousand dollars a month and he might have to sell out and put Bud in a nursing home.”

His father’s fearful tone made Daniel’s fingers tighten on his fork. Wouldn’t Jodi pounce on that news? “That’s not going to happen, Pop.”

Not on his watch. He’d known the weather was making more than a few farmers skittish. If Jodi got hold of some of the financially weaker ones, they might give into the pressure and sell out. Things were worse than he’d thought if a tough, retired old farmer like Bud would share that kind of news. Daniel needed to put his co-op plans in motion faster than he’d intended and send Jodi on her way before she did more damage than the relentless rain.

“Colton, would you like more roast?” Sue smiled warmly and passed more beef over Daniel’s empty plate.

“So are you still going to Princeton?” Colton spoke through a mouthful of beef, then took a long drink of foamy milk, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Sue twisted her cloth napkin.

“No.”

“Yes.”

She and Daniel spoke at the same time and looked at each other. “Sue. You’re staying at Princeton until you finish your Ph.D.” He kept his voice low and eyed his father’s bent head. As far as his father knew, Sue was on break.

“You stopped at an MBA,” she hissed for his ears only. “So why the grief? I’m already a certified psychologist.” She spooned more turnip on Colton’s plate.

“Because you’re not a quitter.”

“Mom was.”

A hush came over the table as all eyes fell on Pop. Luckily he was tinkering with his hearing aid and seemed to have missed the painful reminder.

“Sue. Stop.” Daniel forked a piece of beef and ladled more vegetables on top of a slice of bread.

“Oh, sure. Let’s not talk about the fact that she walked out on all of us. Couldn’t take farming. Hah. Couldn’t take us!”

“Enough, Sue.” Daniel’s glass banged on the table as he recalled the painful summer he’d lost his mother and Jodi. When his father looked up, Daniel smiled for his confused-looking dad’s benefit. “Got the fly! Hey. What’s for dessert?”

“Strawberries and pound cake.” Sue crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, her eyes on Daniel. “Heard Jodi Chapman’s in town.”

“Jodi Chapman?” His father sat up straighter, his eyes sparkling. “No one said she was home. Now, that’s a sweet girl. Remember how hard she worked in the barns after her father’s accident? A spirited little thing. Is she visiting soon?”

His pulse sped. “Not a chance, Pop.”

Sue sent him a warning look.

“I mean, I don’t think so.”

“Well, you’ll have to invite her. I know she’d want to see me.” His father pointed his turnip-laden fork at himself, then lifted it to his mouth and got his cheek instead. Sue reached over to wipe him but he brushed her aside and did it himself.

Daniel held back a groan. He’d bet Jodi would love to visit his father. Him and all the other farmers around town. And they’d welcome her, their reactions just like Pop’s. His unease amped up another notch. He’d better nix whatever she planned pronto. If good guys like Bud Layhee could be turned out of their family’s homes, then this wasn’t just about a way of life anymore. It was about lives. Period.

“Will she be at your class reunion Friday night?” Sue asked.

“It’s your tenth, right? Wow, that’s old.” A confused look crossed Colton’s face at Sue’s sudden frown. She was four years older than the oblivious object of her affection.

“I’m guessing she won’t miss the chance to talk to some of the farmers attending. She’ll probably be there.” Daniel drained the last of his milk and wiped his mouth. “But not for long.”

* * *

THREE DAYS LATER, Jodi stood on her aunt’s back porch and hugged a quilt around her shoulders. The chill air was fresh with dewy promise and filled with birdcalls. It’d finally stopped raining and the rising sun changed Lake Champlain’s rippling surface from onyx to periwinkle, and then a deep navy studded with white caps that glittered in the growing light. She sighed and wrapped the blanket tighter. It really was beautiful here. She eyed the lake again. As long as you only looked at the surface.

A door squeaked open and Aunt Grace joined her at the railing. “So did you miss your hometown?” She passed Jodi a cup of tea.

“No,” Jodi answered honestly. And she hadn’t. Since she’d left for college, she’d used the mental equivalent of a Magic Eraser and wiped her past clean. Yet somehow, Daniel had stayed with her. Her mouth quirked. Even his memory was stubborn.

Aunt Grace’s wire-rimmed glasses fogged when she sipped her tea. One of her curlers dangled over her ear. “Well. I’m glad you’re here, even if I wish you had a different reason.”

She sighed. “Aunt Grace, you know it’s the only way I can get the money for Tyler’s school.”

“We’ve got perfectly good schools here.”

Her hand covered her aunt’s and squeezed. “Not the kind that Tyler needs.” Her aunt meant well, but she was Tyler’s mother and knew best.

“I like this,” Jodi added after tasting the minty tea. “Peppermint Harvest?”

“Green Moroccan. Trader Mike’s is carrying it now.”

“Since when did Cedar Bay go international?” She couldn’t resist teasing her aunt, although the inclusion of foreign products at the local mom-and-pop store did surprise her. Yankees weren’t fond of change. Just look at Daniel. As the class valedictorian with a full ride to Cornell, he could have studied anything. Been anything. And what had he done? Gotten an MBA in agricultural economics and run right back to his farm. She took another sip of tea. Why did her thoughts so often turn to him?

Her aunt gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Stick around, honey. There’s a lot that’s changed. Not just you.”

She rested her head on her aunt’s shoulder. “And how have I changed?” It was clear that she had, but she wondered how people back home saw her. More confident. Self-assured. No longer an object of pity? And had Daniel noticed? Not that it should matter...but somehow it did.

A hand stroked the crown of her head. “Oh, honey. In lots of ways you’re still the sweet, generous girl you always were, but now there’s something a little—I don’t know—hard about you. And please don’t take that the wrong way.”

She pulled back, stung. “Hard as in strong or hard as in mean?” The former she’d be happy with but the latter...

Aunt Grace’s eye folds looked puffier than usual and she pulled a crumpled tissue out of the robe’s sleeve and blew her nose before answering.

“I don’t know, sweetie. It’s like Chicago put a coat of varnish on you that I wish I could strip away. Uncover your natural self.”

Jodi shook her head. Considering her aunt supplemented her deceased husband’s retirement by refinishing antique furniture, it wasn’t a bad analogy. It just didn’t apply to her.

She spread her arms. “Aunt Grace, this is the real me. I was never myself here.”

“It sure looked like you were enjoying those 4-H picnics, and no one’s beat your record for bobbing apples. Not even Jimmy Terry. With his teeth, we all thought he’d best you for sure.”

The competitor in her felt a flash of satisfaction, and then she remembered they were talking apples, whereas she’d closed multimillion-dollar deals. She’d definitely changed, and for the better. No matter what her aunt might be suggesting.

Aunt Grace lifted her tea mug while Jodi stared out at the red rowboat floating beside the dock. She remembered the gentle slide of the boat through Lake Champlain’s water and yearned for such a peaceful moment. How long since she’d done something just for herself?

“Do you still take it out?”

“When the arthritis isn’t acting up. Why don’t you go for a paddle? Take Tyler. You haven’t let him out of the house yet and everyone’s asking about him...and you.”

She glanced at the silent monitor perched on the porch railing. “He’s got allergies like you. Maybe when he’s better.” She gulped more of the minty brew and refused to imagine why she felt reluctant for the community to meet her son.

“Well, you should get out at least. You’ve been working all kinds of hours since you got here. Mailing out letters. Setting up meetings. Talking on your phone steady. I feel like we’ve hardly had time for a good visit. And I don’t think you’ve had a bit of fun.”

“I’m not here to have fun. The sooner I get this deal wrapped up, the sooner I can get Tyler home. The country isn’t good for him.”

“It isn’t good for him, or it isn’t good for you?” Aunt Grace’s eyes peered into hers, missing nothing.

Jodi glanced at the lake when a trill drifted in the morning air, the melancholy sound echoing her mood. A pair of loons swam past the dock, a small V rippling behind them. They were one of the bird species that mated for life. She’d once expected the same for her and Peter.

As if reading her thoughts, her aunt asked, “How’s Peter?”

“Suing to lower child support, actually.” The words poured out of her, unbidden. Why had she burdened her aunt with that?

Aunt Grace’s eyes sparked. “I don’t mind telling you, Jodi, I never liked the guy. How he wouldn’t accept Tyler’s autism diagnosis and acted ashamed of his own son. You both worked the same hours, but he didn’t lift a finger at home with Tyler’s treatment. It wasn’t right.”

Jodi sighed, remembering how hard she’d tried—but it’d never been enough, especially when she’d “spoiled” Tyler, according to Peter, with the extra attention required by his therapy plan and “wasted” her time in autism chat rooms and doing research.

“So he’s not going to help you pay for day care, then?”

She shook her head. “He won’t admit Tyler has autism.”

“Or visit him, either. And now he won’t even support his son. The man is despicable.”

Jodi agreed, though she wouldn’t voice her complaints. She shouldn’t have brought up the subject in the first place. He was still Tyler’s father.

“Tyler’s my priority now. There isn’t room to think about anything else.”

“Or anyone else.” Her aunt gently turned her by the shoulders so that they faced each other in the brightening light. “Listen, Jodi. Take it from me. Life is short, and while I understand that Tyler’s important, you’re important to me. Since Charlie and I couldn’t have any of our own, we’ve always thought of you as our kid, too.” Her tissue reappeared and she dabbed at her eyes. “I only want the best for you.”

Jodi caught her in a tight hug, tears pricking the backs of her eyes. It’d been a long time since she’d thought about herself, and it felt good to know her aunt cared. Since her mother had her hands full helping Jodi’s father with the post-traumatic stress disorder he’d developed after the accident, Jodi hadn’t burdened her mother with her problems. Their phone calls usually focused on lighter issues.

“Once I get Tyler settled and talking again, I promise I’ll get out more.”

But even as she said the words, she knew she never would. Her ex had accused her of caring more about her son than him, and maybe he’d had a point. When a child needed love and attention as much as Tyler, she couldn’t make room for anyone else in her life or her heart.

Aunt Grace smiled. “There’s my girl. And you can start tonight with your class reunion.”

She blinked. “My what?”

“Your ten-year class reunion. Didn’t you see your invite on the fridge? At least I think that’s where I put it. Anyway, it came here since they didn’t know your Chicago address. I was going to forward it until I heard you were coming.”

“Oh. I don’t know. I think I should stay home with Tyler.”

“I can watch him, and it’d be a great way to get out like you promised.” Her aunt rubbed Jodi’s arm. “See your old friends, maybe make some of the connections you’re fussing over for Midland.”

Her pulse sped at the thought of facing those who had called her a charity case and others who’d thought it. But those were adolescent insecurities, not the fears of a mature woman. She needed them to see her as a successful professional, someone they could trust and depend on to equitably handle the sale of their farms to Midland. Hopefully those old impressions hadn’t lingered.

Aunt Grace had a point. It would push her Midland plans along faster than waiting for next week’s town council meeting. Plus, she’d just been authorized to increase the offering price to a number they’d be crazy to refuse. But how to face all of them? See Daniel again?

A low snuffling cry crackled across the monitor. Tyler.

“I’d better go check on him.” Jodi took her aunt’s mug. “I’ll leave these in the sink. Oh, and, Aunt Grace?”

“Yes, honey?”

“If it’s not too much bother, would you mind looking for a copy of my old yearbook? I think I might have left it here.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I just want you to be happy.”

Tyler’s cry turned into a full-out wail and she hurried to the door. “Me, too, Aunt Grace. Me, too.”