One Good Man Page 4

  Brittany and Daniel laughed, until they took a look at Jodie’s face. Brittany’s laughter died in her throat, and Daniel shoved to his feet.

  Well, well. A felon with manners.

  Even as she thought it, Jodie recognized she wasn’t being fair. Daniel didn’t look like a hardened criminal. Thin and tall, with his freckles, wide blue eyes, shaggy hair that needed cutting, and deer-in-the-headlights expression, he reminded her of a scared little kid who wanted his mother. And he couldn’t be many days over sixteen.

  Dear God, why was life so complicated? Why couldn’t the bad guys look like bad guys?

  Jodie inhaled deeply, forced herself to relax and smile. “I see you haven’t exhausted your repertoire,” she said to Brynn.

  Her friend, looking especially ravishing out of uniform in snug-fitting jeans, leather boots and a sweatshirt that brought out the dark blue in her eyes, grinned. “I haven’t even started on my Yankee jokes.”

  Jodie groaned, rolled her eyes and sat. She’d wait until the crews started back to work after lunch, ask Brittany to help load the car and leave. Their departure would seem natural then, instead of the panicked flight she wanted this very moment.

  “Tell us, Aunt Brynn.” Brittany adored her mother’s friend, who, unlike Jodie, could do no wrong in her daughter’s eyes.

  Brynn didn’t need encouragement. “A young man from the Smoky Mountains studied very hard all his life and won a full scholarship to a prestigious Ivy League college in New England. He’d never left home before, and he soon lost his way on the large campus.

  “So he stopped an older student and asked in his slow mountain drawl, ‘Could you please tell me where the library’s at?’”

  Daniel and Brittany exchanged amused glances at Brynn’s exaggerated twang.

  “The older student looked down his nose with a sneer at the newcomer and replied in clipped Yankee tones, ‘If you spoke proper English, you would know never to end a sentence with a preposition.’

  “The mountaineer grinned. ‘Of course. Thank you kindly for the grammar lesson. Now, will you please tell me where the library’s at, jack—’”

  “Brynn!” Jodie interrupted sharply, but Brittany and Daniel caught the officer’s drift and howled with laughter.

  “Sorry,” Brynn said. “I hang around cops too much.” She turned to Brittany. “That language is not appropriate for a young lady. And you, Daniel, must be especially cautious of how you speak. You need to make the best impression possible, understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the boy agreed with a respectful nod.

  The sound of an engine straining on an uphill grade broke the silence, and a delivery truck from the local builders’ supply rumbled into the clearing.

  Across the yard, Jeff jumped to his feet. “Let’s help unload.”

  “Ooo-rah!” his team answered in unison and double-timed it to the truck. Daniel and Brittany got up and joined them.

  “Get the feeling those guys would follow Jeff to hell and back?” Brynn asked.

  “From what he’s told me, they already have,” Jodie said quietly and watched the men heft heavy timbers onto their shoulders as if they weighed no more than matchsticks.

  “Is that why you looked so spooked a minute ago? Too many war stories?”

  Jodie shook her head. “I’m worried about Brit, and I’m taking her home as soon as I can. Daniel has a rap sheet as long as my arm. She shouldn’t be around him.”

  “He needs a friend, Jodie.”

  “Someone else’s daughter can be his friend.”

  “Aren’t you being harsh?”

  “The boy’s jail-bound. I don’t want him steering Jodie in the same direction.”

  Brynn shook her head. “I’ve seen his rap sheet. And I’ve read between the lines. He’s a good boy who fell in with the wrong crowd. Did the wrong things for the right reasons. Otherwise the judge would have made Daniel reservations at the Gray Bar Inn, not here.”

  “The Gray Bar Inn?” Jodie couldn’t help smiling. “Are you never serious?”

  “I am now.” Brynn’s expression backed up her words. “Give him a chance, Jodie. If people turn their backs on Daniel, he’ll believe he’s no good, and then he’s truly lost.”

  “What about Brittany?”

  “Cut her some slack. You’ve instilled good values in her. She knows what to do.”

  Jodie wished she had Brynn’s certainty, but said no more, because Jeff had apparently assured the teens they weren’t needed, and Brittany and Daniel were returning to the table.

  “Mom, Daniel says there’s a creek up the mountain that’s full of tadpoles. Can we check it out?”

  Jodie bit back the no that sprang instantly to her lips and met Brynn’s pleading gaze. “Okay, but stay within shouting distance. We’ll be leaving soon.”

  With whoops of delight, the teens turned and raced like children toward the worn footpath that led into the forest behind the farmhouse.

  Jodie sank onto a bench. “I hope I’m not making a mistake.”

  “I’ll wander up and check on them in a few minutes,” Brynn promised.

  Jodie stowed the empty Crock-Pots in the van, but left the remaining food in coolers. As hard as the men were working, they’d be hungry again soon. True to her word, Brynn followed the teens up the mountain. Ricochet’s cleanup left Jodie nothing to do, so she returned to the bench beneath the canopy and watched the massive dorm take shape.

  The framers and Marines were manhandling the roof trusses, when one of the heavy beams slipped and landed a glancing blow on Gofer’s foot. A blue streak, a virtuoso performance of profanity, colored the air, and, in addition to her concern for the man’s injury, Jodie was glad Brittany was out of earshot.

  “Got a first-aid kit?” she called.

  “On the porch,” Jeff directed.

  With his arms around Jeff and Kermit’s shoulders, Gofer hobbled toward the canopy.

  Jodie ran across the yard and up the porch steps, grabbed the kit and returned to the canopy. Jeff and Kermit had eased Gofer to a bench, and Jeff was removing his buddy’s boot.

  “Guess I owe the pot a fortune,” Gofer said between gritted teeth.

  Jeff nodded but didn’t take his eyes from the injured foot. “At a dollar a word, to use your favorite expression, I’d say you went for broke.”

  Gofer drew in a breath that hissed between his teeth and looked up at Jodie. “The team’s trying to clean up its vocabulary, to set an example for our teens.”

  Kermit hovered, looking over Jeff’s shoulder to assess the damage to Gofer’s foot. “We made a pact,” he explained to Jodie, “a dollar a word for any curses. Gofer, old bud, you just filled the jar. That fu...dging foot must be hurting like...heck.”

  “I’m okay,” Gofer grumbled. “I don’t want to slow you guys down. The framers quit at four whether the damn, uh darn thing’s done or not.”

  Jeff stood. “The building can wait until I’m sure you’re okay.”

  “I’ll take care of him,” Jodie offered.

  “Yeah,” Gofer said, “she makes a much prettier nurse than you, Lieutenant.”

  Jeff paused and studied Gofer as if to assure himself the man would be all right.

  “Thanks, Jodie.” Jeff threw her a look that melted her insides, and, with Kermit, hurried back to the site to help retrieve the fallen truss.

  Jodie knelt in front of Gofer and gingerly finished removing his bloody sock. “No wonder you swore. The beam split your big toe. You ought to have stitches.”

  “Just a scratch, ma’am,” the Marine said without wincing, although his face had the pinched look of a person in agony. “I’ve had worse.”

  Jodie cleaned the wound with peroxide, slathered it with an antibiotic cream that also killed pain and bandaged the toe. “You should stay off it.”

  She expected protests, but Gofer merely nodded in agreement, and leaned back, elbows on the table, breathing hard. “You an old friend of the lieutenant’s?”

  Jod
ie recognized that he was trying to focus on something besides his throbbing foot.

  “Jeff’s several years older than me.” She couldn’t admit that the man whose team worshiped him like a hero hadn’t had any friends. “He graduated high school with my brother.”

  “The vet I met this morning?”

  Jodie nodded. “Archer Farm’s going to keep Grant busy. Jeff has quite a menagerie.”

  “Horses, goats, cows, chickens, ducks and pigs. For the teens to take care of. Teaches ’em responsibility. Might even teach some of them how to love.”

  “You a psychiatrist?” Jodie asked with a smile.

  “Psychologist,” Gofer answered.

  “Really? They taught you that in the Marines?”

  He shook his head. “I’d almost finished graduate school when I decided to fight terrorism. I immediately joined the Marines. After leaving the service last year, I completed my Ph.D. And signed on with Jeff as Archer Farm’s resident counselor.”

  While talking with Gofer, Jodie had observed Jeff leaving the work site and disappearing into the woods behind the house. He returned with Brynn in tow and approached Gofer.

  “Officer Sawyer’s going to drive you into town, Gofer,” Jeff said. “You could have broken bones. I want that foot X-rayed.”

  “No need, sir. I’m fine.”

  Brynn placed her fists on her hips. “You resisting an officer, soldier?”

  Gofer looked from Brynn’s determined expression to the set of Jeff’s firm jaw and grinned. “You’re an officer who’s hard to resist, ma’am.”

  “Please, call me Brynn. Or Officer Sawyer. Anything but ma’am. It makes me feel old.”

  Gofer’s grin split his face. “You don’t have to worry about age, ma’am.”

  “Want a couple of guys to carry you to the car?” Jeff asked.

  “If Brynn will give me a hand,” Gofer said, “I can manage.”

  He pushed gamely onto his good foot. Brynn slung his arm around her shoulder and steadied him as he hopped to her car where she helped him into the front seat.

  “I’ll bring him right back,” she called. “See you soon.”

  Jodie found herself alone with Jeff. His face knotted with worry as he watched Brynn drive away.

  “He’ll be okay,” Jodie assured him.

  Jeff nodded. “Gofer’s a good man. He gave up joining a lucrative practice to work here. I hate to see him injured on top of his other sacrifices.”

  Jeff’s concern was genuine, and for an instant Jodie fantasized what having Jeff care for her that deeply would feel like. The former Marine towered beside her, arms and chest bare where he’d stripped off his sweater in the afternoon sun to expose tanned muscles that sent her hormones into chaos. She tried to focus instead on the tattoo on his biceps, the Marine Corps emblem emblazoned with Semper Fi. But his tantalizing smell distracted her. So much for deodorant ads, she thought in desperation. Sweaty with his hair flecked with sawdust, he probably hadn’t a clue that his masculine scent was driving her wild.

  Time to deliver herself from temptation. Besides, Brynn had left Brittany alone in the woods with Daniel, a situation that raised the hair on the back of Jodie’s neck.

  “I’ll find Brittany.” She silently cursed the breathlessness in her voice. “And we’ll be going. I’ll leave the leftovers. There’s probably enough for supper, at least for your team.”

  Jeff gazed down at her, his gray eyes exuding a warmth that sent her already giddy senses whirling. “I can’t thank you enough for today.”

  Jodie thought of a hundred ways he could thank her, most of them deliciously indecent, and more heat scorched her. She was probably red as a beet and looked like an idiot. “You don’t have to thank me. You paid well.”

  He grinned. “I did, didn’t I? But you were worth every penny.”

  She wasn’t about to ask him to elaborate. “I’m glad the food met with your approval.”

  His expression sobered. “Some folks in town won’t approve of your being here. You took a risk, catering for me. And I’m grateful.”

  The old Jeff, the ostracized teenager who had on rare occasions dropped his don’t-give-a-damn attitude to reveal his loneliness, peeked through the tough Marine demeanor, then disappeared so quickly, she thought she’d imagined his outcast look.

  “I don’t let other folks influence my decisions.” She wished she could say the same for her hormones.

  “I’ll return your coolers and equipment tomorrow,” he offered.

  “Don’t bother.” She practically tripped over her tongue in her haste to reply. “Grant can pick up everything next time he checks your livestock. That’ll save you a trip.”

  Jeff considered her, as if trying to discern her motives, and she looked toward the building site to avoid his scrutiny.

  “I don’t want to keep you from your work, so I’ll get Brittany and we’ll be going.”

  Before he could reply, she sprinted toward the footpath in the woods. Brittany had mentioned a creek, and Jodie seriously contemplated a dip in its icy waters to cool her blood and clear her head.

  Chapter Four

  In the bride’s parlor of the Pleasant Valley Community Church, Jodie set aside her bridesmaid’s bouquet of pale-pink roses and baby’s breath, adjusted Merrilee Stratton’s triple-tiered veil and smoothed a strand of pale-blond hair that had escaped from her friend’s French twist.

  “You look gorgeous,” Jodie said. “There’s nothing prettier than a June bride. Are you nervous?”

  Merrilee shook her head and adjusted the pearl-encrusted neckline of her satin gown. Excitement sparkled in her sky-blue eyes.

  “No second thoughts?” Jodie asked.

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. That’s how long I’ve loved your brother.”

  With her stiletto-heeled sandals killing her feet, Jodie sank onto the sofa, careful not to wrinkle the long skirt of her periwinkle-blue satin dress, and pondered how life was full of surprises. Six years ago, Merrilee had moved to New York to pursue her career in photography, and Jodie thought she’d lost her friend to the big city for good. Who would have guessed that Merrilee’s parents, poster couple for happily marrieds, would separate, bringing Merrilee home on the first plane out of New York last March?

  And who would have guessed that, in a few short months, Merrilee would reunite her parents, sell a photographic book on country vets to a major publisher and decide to follow her career in Pleasant Valley as Grant’s wife?

  “I’ve always wanted a sister,” Jodie said.

  “We’ve been like sisters since we were kids. My marrying Grant only makes it official.”

  Cat Stratton, Merrilee’s mother, wearing an elegant designer dress in rose-colored silk that matched her cheeks, breezed through the door. The older woman, Jodie’s high school English teacher and lifelong neighbor, had never looked happier. Evidently, her husband’s midlife crisis had passed, and marital bliss had returned to the Stratton home.

  “Wow, Mrs. Stratton,” Jodie said, “you’re a knockout in that dress.”

  “Thank you, dear. And look at the two of you. Who would ever have thought that the little girls who made mud pies in my backyard would turn into such beauties.” Cat’s eyes brimmed with joyful tears.

  “Thanks, Mrs. S.” To give mother and daughter a private moment, Jodie stood. “I’d better check on Brittany.”

  Jodie slipped out the door, wandered into the meditation garden and headed for a redwood bench beneath a crepe myrtle heavy with bright-pink blooms. Making it through the wedding and reception before her shoes killed her was going to take a miracle.

  At least she didn’t have to worry about running into Jeff Davidson. Grant had invited Jeff and his team to the wedding, but Archer Farm would open officially on Monday. And Jeff had admitted to Grant that, although the new building was almost finished, he had a punch list the size of a book to complete. Jeff, stripped to the waist, muscles rippling, his entrancing gray eyes concentratin
g on his task, was probably wielding a hammer or a paintbrush now, up to his very broad shoulders in last-minute details. And too far away, thank goodness, to distract Jodie from enjoying the wedding of her brother and her best friend.

  Jodie closed her mind to the enticing picture of the bare-chested Marine. Jeff’s absence suited her just fine. She had succeeded in avoiding him the last four weeks, in spite of his efforts to make contact. She’d had one of her staff or her voice mail field his numerous calls. And she’d slipped upstairs when he’d come into the café looking for her. Even the morning he’d brought his entire team for breakfast. So far she’d eluded him completely.

  Except in her thoughts.

  And her dreams.

  As hard as she tried, Jodie couldn’t scrub the man from her mind, which was all the more reason to keep her distance. Arrogant young Randy Mercer had taught her an indelible lesson. Attractive men who sent her brain into shutdown mode were trouble with a capital T.

  Add her reluctance to have Brittany involved with Daniel or Archer Farm’s other delinquents, soon to arrive, and Jodie had the best of reasons to avoid Jeff Davidson like the plague.

  “You ready, Mom?”

  Jodie glanced up and had to look twice to recognize Brittany. Merrilee’s wedding planner had flown in a hair stylist and makeup artist from New York for the women in the wedding party. The professionals had worked a miracle with Brittany. Gone was the sullen, ghostly teen with black-rimmed eyes. In her place stood a sophisticated young lady, blond hair in a flattering French braid, makeup understated to emphasize her youthful complexion, and on her nails—hallelujah!—pearly pink polish. The pastel of her blue dress brought out the creaminess of her skin. And not a speck of gloomy black in sight.

  “You’re beautiful, cupcake.” Determined not to cry, Jodie blinked back tears.

  “You really think so?”

  “Turn around. Let me see all of you.”

  “Turn around? You’ve got to be kidding! I’ll break my neck in these shoes!”

  “Feet hurt?” Jodie asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Brittany said with a grimace.