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 she shook it off. She was pale under the lights, her stare unwavering.
“We’ll get there, Ted.” Daniel shifted in his tight dress shoes. “I wanted to bring this up because this is the first time we’ve all been together since we accepted our diplomas and faced a future that, for many of us, was already a given. We knew we’d take the torch our farming families passed us and keep it safe.”
“We love you, Daniel!” shouted a female voice. By the set of Jodi’s face, it wasn’t hers.
“We’ve done a good job so far, weathering one of the worst economic times and coming through intact. Yet some would like to take advantage of the cracks in our foundation. Midland Corp, for instance.”
Several boos erupted in the audience and he saw Jodi flinch. He had to swallow over the lump clogging his throat and force himself to keep going.
“We’ve resisted their attempts to steal our livelihoods from us—our communities, our traditions, all that we have to pass down to our own kids. Yet they’ve devised an even more sinister plan than I could have imagined.”
He had the room’s full attention now. Many leaned in or stepped forward. You could have heard a pin drop.
“They’ve sent one of our own against us. Jodi Lynn Chapman.” He gestured toward her and while everyone turned to stare, no one clapped or smiled. In fact, many who had been cordial before now looked hostile. Guess word hadn’t reached everyone about her real purpose for coming home until now.
Jodi’s face turned bright enough to look sunburned.
“Let’s show her the door. That’s all the welcome she’s getting if she’s with Midland instead of us,” yelled someone from a shadowed corner.
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd, their angry babble rising until it drowned out his attempts to quiet them. He had more to say, but they weren’t listening. In fact, they’d turned their backs on him and were closing in on Jodi. Her face contorted and she pressed a napkin to it before pushing through the crowd and out the door, her rose hair clip loose and flopping on her shoulders.
He turned away from the microphone and muttered a word not for public hearing. After hopping off the stage, he shoved through the crowed in pursuit of her.
“Great speech, big guy.” One of his friends slapped him on the back.
Daniel nodded to the well-wishers who swarmed him, angry at himself for stirring this already boiling pot. Jodi’s motivations were wrong, and the sooner she realized it the better, but he’d underestimated the crowd and he owed her an apology. He’d wanted to get through to her, not drive her to her breaking point. The thought filled him with regret.
“Jodi!” He cupped his hands around his mouth and belted her name across the parking lot before she slipped inside her car.
“Leave me alone, Daniel.” Her keys fell from her shaking hands. “You’ve done enough.” She crouched down to search but ended up putting her fingers over her eyes, her shoulders quaking.
In a flash he was by her side, scooping up her keys and the flowered hair clip that’d fallen before pulling her upright. Her damp hair clung to her temples when he pushed it away from her face, and his hands cupped her cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Jodi. I didn’t mean for it to turn that ugly.”
“Didn’t you?”
His stomach clenched. Hadn’t he? Yes. In a way. But he’d never imagined the aftermath would affect him this much. He had her on the ropes, but he felt as if he was the one down on the mat. Yet it’d always been that way between them. Each swinging until they couldn’t raise an arm, the wounds they inflicted staying long after the contest was over. His chest constricted when he recalled their squabbles over the years, from who’d win the blue ribbon for best pumpkin at the county fair to who’d win class president.
Even their temporary truce, called when they’d given in to their feelings, had ended badly. She’d disappeared from his life for ten years. And now she looked ready to quit again. It was what he wanted. So why, then, did he suddenly wish she’d stay?
He pressed his forehead to hers, but she jerked away. “Please believe me. I’m not out to get you. I meant it when I said this isn’t business, it’s personal. I’m fighting for my life. Mine and others’.”
Suddenly her face regained its composure. If anything, she looked stronger and more beautiful than ever. She took his breath away.
“So am I, Daniel,” she said after a long moment. “So am I.”
He started to ask her what she meant, whose life she fought for, but she held up a finger and the words dissolved on his tongue.
“You’re right. It isn’t just business. It’s personal. Like you said, this is war, and I’m in it for the long haul.”
And with that she grabbed her keys, unlocked her car and roared into the night, leaving him with thoughts and emotions as scrambled as the dust cloud she left behind.
Despite his turmoil, however, he grinned. The old Jodi was back. She drove him crazy, but he’d rather have a clean, honest fight with the firecracker he remembered than mince words with one of those polished suits he’d feared she’d become.
He stared down at the rose she’d left behind,
