His Hometown Girl. Karen Rock

      Tyler. Grace had filled him in on Jodi’s son and divorce when he’d offered to pick her up at the airport. It was part of his “keep your friends close and enemies closer” strategy. He didn’t have to worry about the “know your enemy” tactic, however. Every one of his earliest memories included Jodi—some of the best and a few of the worst.

      “Daniel?”

      Jodi’s large blue eyes peered from him to the handwritten sign he held and she frowned as she read it, her lips silently forming the words Jodi Lynn. He forced his eyes from her full mouth, the sight doing something funny to his heart until he caught himself. Those feelings were from a lifetime ago. One he had no intention of reliving.

      “What are you doing here? And I don’t go by Jodi Lynn anymore. Please put that sign away.”

      He lowered it. “I wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me. You’ve been gone awhile.” Despite his efforts, it sounded accusing and he hurried to continue. “And Grace had a DAR meeting, so I offered to pick you up.”

      She peered up at signs bearing the taxi symbol. “Thanks, but I can manage on my own.” Her son began to cry, his voice sounding hoarse, as if he’d been doing it for hours. Maybe he had, poor kid. Grace had mentioned the boy was autistic and that keeping him calm in new situations could be a challenge.

      Daniel took her carry-on so that she could attend to her child. “Jodi. Face it, you’ve got your hands full and your aunt wanted me to help you.” After he’d convinced Grace not to miss her meeting, he added to himself. He needed to know what Jodi planned.

      She sighed, although it was hard to tell if the frustrated sound was aimed at him or the plastic-framed glasses her son flung into the crowd.

      A man in a business suit stopped short and spilled his coffee down his shirt. He snatched up the eye gear by its band and advanced their way, his scowl directed at Jodi until Daniel stepped in his path.

      He forced an easy smile and held out a hand. “Thanks for that. Wouldn’t want a child to lose his glasses.”

      The traveler opened and closed his mouth like the bass Daniel had hooked last Sunday.

      He nodded toward a row of boarding-pass kiosks. “Looks like you’d better get going since you’re in such a rush.”

      When the man scurried away, his tie flapping over his shoulder, Jodi turned to Daniel. “You didn’t have to do that.” She straightened her spine and looked him in the eye. “I can fight my own battles.”

      He didn’t want to suggest that it looked like her hands were already full with her cranky preschooler, but that was the reason he’d stepped in.

      He passed Jodi the glasses. “Like the one you’re fighting for Midland Corp.” He figured it was safer to put this conversation on professional grounds right off the bat. “Or is it more personal than that?”

      Jodi’s face remained neutral and he wondered if she felt guilty for coming home to sell out her former neighbors. It was one thing for her parents to lose their farm. Another matter for a community to lose its way of life. He wouldn’t let her get away with it.

      “This 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