being served with Peter’s petition to lower child support payments yesterday. Despite everything, she still hadn’t believed he’d do it. And now, on top of battling for tuition to Wonders Primary, she’d need to hire a lawyer to fight him.
She held in the sigh that’d give her inner turmoil away. This was the most important deal in her career and she had to think strategically and rationally. Use the skills she’d learned from corporate wheeling and dealing in order to win when she needed it most. Emotion or doubt couldn’t cloud her judgment.
Her eyes slit open and flicked Daniel’s way. Nor could she let their former relationship influence her. She’d been betrayed by men in her life and she’d never forget that Daniel had been the first. Her index finger tapped against the window, punctuating the thought.
When the truck hit another pothole, her eyes opened and teeth rattled. She glanced through the mud droplets and instead of seeing the tree-lined edge of I-89, she saw the Pearsons’ stainless steel silo. The curved ladder they decorated with red-and-white light strips every December flashed by in a blur. Why had Daniel taken this slower, back-road route?
The answer came to her in waves of nostalgia.
A weakness.
He was testing her. Seeing if she missed the place. Felt sentimental. Hah. Tyler was the only one to whom she’d entrust her feelings again.
“I know what you’re doing and I don’t appreciate it.” She crossed her ankles against the dusty floor mat and tried to blot out the memory of visiting the Pearsons’ enormous lit candy cane; it had been a Christmas season tradition.
Daniel shot her a sideways glance, then said, “If you look over there, Tyler, you’ll see Field Stone Farm.”
Tyler continued pulling Ollie’s tail, the hand stitches she’d used to reattach it last week nearly pulling free.
“I beat your mother at a stone-carrying challenge there. Hope she’s still not holding that against me since I shared the prize with her—one of Mrs. Willette’s raspberry cobblers.” Daniel’s vivid eyes sparkled when they met hers, the green-and-yellow kaleidoscope of color drawing her in until she shook her head and looked away.
“I hardly remember those times, so there’s no grudge.” Jodi shifted uncomfortably as she recalled too much.
Tyler jerked when Daniel ruffled his hair. “Guess that means your mother’s become the forgiving type.”
“I’ve moved on and so should you,” she muttered as she pulled out her smartphone and read an email from her boss to call him. “And would you please go a bit faster. I have to—”
“The speed limit here is thirty-five. Besides—” Daniel shrugged his broad shoulders “—I’m showing Tyler where he comes from. If you have your way, he’ll never have this chance again.”
Jodi tamped down her sudden spike of anger. “He’s from Chicago, not Cedar Bay.” She passed Tyler a Fruit Roll-Up snack, then sighed when her son flung it away. He really was hungry.
“There’ve been Chapmans here for over three hundred years.”
“His last name is Mitchem. I changed my name back after the divorce.”
Daniel shot her a speculative glance then continued. “Your last name might be different, Tyler, but you’re still part of a large family that goes back generations.” Daniel drummed along with the Eagles tune “Take It Easy,” which was ironic. She noted his empty ring finger as it beat against the wheel, then chided herself for looking. What difference did his marital status make?
When the song ended, he pulled a bag of raspberries out of a dashboard pocket and passed it to Tyler. No! She lunged, too late, as Tyler squealed when he crushed them, the crimson color bleeding through his tiny fingers. Jodi’s shoulders slumped and she reached for a Handi Wipe. What a sticky mess.
“May I have one?” Daniel held out a large hand in front of Tyler. Her heart squeezed when her son struggled, then plucked a berry from the bag. He would have won a gold star for that in physical therapy.
“Thank you, Ty.” Daniel’s white teeth flashed against the tanned skin of his face and her breath caught when his crescent moon dimples appeared. She forced her attention away and dabbed at the sticky berry juice dribbling down her son’s face. “Careful, you’ll choke,” she warned as Tyler shoved in another handful.
Her son stopped chewing, but didn’t look up. For Tyler, that was the most attention anyone could expect when he got fixed on something he really liked.
“Glad you’re enjoying the treat, Tyler,” Daniel said before continuing the kind of chatter that charmed everyone. “I had to ask my neighbor Mrs. Tate for some since the birds had eaten all of mine. You remember going berry picking on Blueberry Hill, Jodi Lynn, right?”
Their eyes caught and held over her son’s head, a memory of their first kiss, berry flavored and full of sunshine, bursting in her brain. She stared at his mouth and turned away when it curved into a knowing grin. Her teeth ground together. He was trying to get under her skin and she’d be darned if she let him.
“Did Grace tell you that she got elected state regent of the Daughters of the American Revolution?”
“Yes. She told me. In fact, she keeps me up-to-date on all of the local news.” Jodi crossed her fingers at the white lie. But she didn’t want Daniel to think she had a special reason to avoid hearing about her hometown. Like a broken heart that had never fully healed....
“Is keeping tabs on your acquisitions part of your job description?” His dark lashes cast shadows over his eyes, but she detected sarcasm in his voice.
“Half of all New England farmers hold full-time jobs off the farm, then return home to farm,” Jodi quoted from a survey she’d read recently. “The rest are full-time farmers. Their work extends year-round. Two-thirds of the farmers are fifty years of age or older. One-third are sixty years of age or older. Only a few farmers receive help from their adult children, and most farmers have difficulty finding farm labor, so many farms are kept to a size that the family can manage alone.” She rolled down her window and let the warm, early-summer air flow over her. “Looks like the berries aren’t the only thing ripe for the picking.”
Daniel whistled long and low, making Tyler cup his hands over his ears. “So you think Cedar Bay’s in a crisis.”
Jodi tugged Tyler’s hands away and danced Ollie across his lap. “Fortunately, I’m here to help so that no one becomes a charity case.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him wince.
“I never called you that,” he said quietly.
“But you believed it.”
Jodi remembered overhearing him agree with teenage friends who’d called her a charity case. He’d been unable to deny those feelings when she’d confronted him. Although it’d happened the summer she’d worked on Daniel’s farm to pay for her father’s medical bills, the memory still burned bright. She’d been falling for Daniel and hadn’t seen the truth, had trusted him when he’d suggested keeping their relationship quiet until things settled down with her family. Her father’s emotional distress and slow recovery meant her mother’s every waking moment was spent caring for him. They didn’t need any extra distractions or worries.
