isn’t personal, Daniel,” she said at last, her voice muffled as she bent over her son and pulled the glasses over his head. “It’s business.”
His jaw tightened. “It involves people’s lives, so I’d say it’s personal.”
“Baggage for Flight 152 now unloading on Carousel C,” the overhead announcer blared.
When she spoke, Jodi sounded cool and matter-of-fact. A stranger’s voice. “Let’s table that if you don’t mind. Now, if you’re my chauffeur, we should get my bags. Oh, and this is my son, Tyler.”
Amazing how much the child resembled his mother. “Hey, Tyler.”
But the boy ignored him and gnawed on his stuffed elephant’s ear. The kid looked stressed.
“Let’s get your luggage.”
Jodi rolled her stroller toward a moving conveyer belt sweeping dusty bags in a circle. “Once I’ve gotten the farmers to sell, those suitcases will be on the next flight. Promise.” She pointed to a pair of large, plastic-encased bags and wheeled her son back from the jostling crowd.
He didn’t doubt it. She’d done it before and it’d nearly broken him.
After hefting them off the moving track, he caught up to her. “That’s a lot of baggage for someone who’s not staying long.”
“I’m planning on staying until I get the job done.” She gave him a level stare. “Except losing.”
The luggage wheels clicked as he rolled the bags toward the exit, his mind working just as fast. “You did a lot of that before you moved away.”
“Emphasis on the word before.” She stopped the stroller and crouched in front of Tyler, her hands on his kicking legs. “I’m not the same girl who fell for your games, Daniel.”
“Maybe we’ve both learned some new tricks.”
She straightened and stepped so close that he took an involuntary step back. “I conduct multimillion dollar deals while you...” Her voice trailed off as she looked from his mud-spattered boots to his faded plaid shirt.
“Earn an honest living.” He adjusted his Red Sox cap. “You get your hands a lot dirtier than I do.” Before her family’s tragedy, she’d been proud to be a 4-H girl and farmer’s daughter. Now she acted as if this life was beneath her.
Where had the girl gone who’d swung out on a rope over Cedar Bay farther than anyone, the young woman who’d walked the ridgeline of a barn on a dare and had raided Mrs. Tate’s berry patches at midnight? The impulsive risk taker he’d known was replaced with a carefully controlled, polished version of herself. Yet he preferred her former warm glow to this reflective sheen that wouldn’t let him see the real her. If that person existed anymore. Had she been this way all along? Was that the reason she’d left him?
The sliding doors opened with a hiss and they stepped out into the cool midmorning drizzle. Daniel breathed in the smell of exhaust and couldn’t wait to get home, away from all this concrete. He needed to strategize. Regroup and think about how he’d handle this new, unflappable Jodi.
She raised an eyebrow and gave him a measured look. “Where are you parked?” Her stroller’s plastic wheels swerved along the parking lot’s asphalt.
So she was letting his accusation go, her self-possession unnerving him. Gone was the girl whose passion had once swept him away from his everyday life, her white-hot temper later imploding it. How things had changed. At least the temporary cease-fire meant he could find out her plans. Stop them before she put them in place. For that matter, the drive home might soften her up with a tour down memory lane.
“I’ve got a ground-level spot,” he said, raising his voice so it’d be heard over a plane’s roar.
“Great. The sooner Tyler gets his nap the better.”
“Are you working right away or having some R & R first? I’ll show you some of the old sights.”
“I have to check in with my boss, then I plan to—” She stopped and shoved wet, frizzing hair from her face. “Why am I telling you this?” Her eyes roamed over him, mystified. Suddenly she looked like the girl he’d known years ago, the one who’d once worn her heart on her sleeve and had captured his.
“Because we used to be friends, Jodi Lynn.”
“Friends?” She snorted and shook off the water collecting on the stroller’s canopy. “And don’t call me Jodi Lynn.”
“Would you prefer ‘ma’am’? Is that what country folks are supposed to say when a city girl comes to town?”
“Knock it off, Daniel.” She nudged him, and the warmth of her bare shoulder through his thin shirt nearly burned.
“That’s Mr. Gleason to you,” he joked to hide the response her touch ignited. Careful, he warned himself.
Jodi shot him a level look, then picked up speed when her son started to kick again, his voice sounding like a teakettle about to boil. No wonder. Daniel would scream, too, if he was strapped in when he could walk instead. Parking lots were unpredictable, but with a firm hand and a sharp eye the little guy could have had his freedom.
“So why are you here instead of one of my aunt’s neighbors?” she asked once they halted beside his muddy blue pickup. The misting rain had only streaked the dirt.
“We’re all neighbors, and neighbors help each other.” He tossed her expensive-looking suitcases into the open bed, an echoing thunk sounding when plastic met metal. “In case you forgot.”
“I haven’t. I’m helping my old hometown get a fair deal that will improve their lives.” She spoke without looking up at him, her movements practiced and efficient as she swept up her thrashing son and secured him in the child seat she’d detached from the stroller, buckling him into the center of the truck’s continuous front seat.
“If you want something, use your words, Tyler,” she told her son.
The boy screamed and pounded his fists against the dashboard, but Jodi slid in beside him, looking as if it was any other day. And for her, maybe it was.
Daniel felt his resistance weaken until he caught himself. Her “fair deal” would only benefit Midland, not her former community. They’d either have to abandon their land or become corporate drones, working for a Midland paycheck. No. Jodi was the enemy. No matter that she made him remember good times he’d rather forget.
If he couldn’t convince her that this was personal, not business, remind her of the good times she’d had here and the people she’d cared about, then he needed her gone before she wreaked havoc on his home and his heart.
She’d done the latter the last time she’d left town. He’d be a fool to let her do it again.
He wouldn’t let himself, or his town, fall for Jodi Lynn Chapman.
No, ma’am.
* * *
JODI CLOSED HER eyes and rested her head against the seat as the truck accelerated out of the airport parking lot. Of all people, why had Daniel
