One Good Man

by Charlotte Douglas

  She sighed. “And I suppose you want me to sell their crafts in my gift shop?”

  “At a fair commission, of course.”

  She couldn’t agree to his plan, for a multitude of reasons, all personal. But she had to give him credit for ingenuity.

  “Don’t make up your mind yet,” Jeff said quickly, as if sensing that she was about to decline. “Take time to consider it.”

  “I think your helping Jeff is a wonderful idea.” Mrs. Weatherstone leaned on her walker in the doorway. “You will give it some thought, won’t you, Jodie?”

  Jodie, caught between the proverbial rock and hard place, glanced from the older woman’s smiling face to the pleading look in Jeff’s eyes.

  “Of course,” she heard herself agreeing. “I’ll give it some thought.”

  “I’m so glad,” Mrs. Weatherstone said. “I knew I could count on you. After all, you and Jeff are two of my favorite people.”

  Jodie forced a smile. She’d consented only to considering Jeff’s proposal. But what she actually had to think about was a way to turn him down without Mrs. Weatherstone’s believing Jodie was a heartless ingrate.

  Chapter Six

  After driving back from Mrs. Weatherstone’s, Jeff parked the Harley in front of the farmhouse, surveyed Archer Farm with a critical stare and tried to envision it through the eyes of the ten new clients who would arrive the next day.

  His formerly ramshackle home glistened with a fresh coat of white paint, and new green shutters framed the sparkling-clean windows. The surrounding lawn was neatly trimmed, and the flowers Ricochet had planted were a burst of bright hues around the foundation of the porch.

  Ricochet was working now in the garden, freshly tilled beside the newly completed dorm. He was taking advantage of the long summer day to set out the last of the tomato plants. He raised his head and waved before returning to his task. Jeff acknowledged him with a salute, turning to formality to fight off the lump in his throat. His team had bought into his dream, lock, stock and barrel, even at the ridiculously low pay that was all he could afford. His men were the reason Archer Farm was up and running, ready for tomorrow’s arrivals. Without his men’s help, the project would have taken years to launch.

  Beyond the newly painted red barn on the other side of the farmhouse, young kids in the goat herd frolicked in the pasture above the pond. Kermit, visible through the open barn door, was completing the evening milking. Jeff inhaled a deep breath. Along with the scent of moist, rich earth and assorted livestock smells, the fragrances of spices and baking filled the summer breeze. Trace was probably slaving in the kitchen, preparing heat-and-serve dishes for the freezer for the busy days ahead.

  Gofer sat in a rocking chair on the front porch, his work boots propped on the balustrade, his head bent over a case file folder. Jeff’s gut tightened. Gofer’s ability to counsel their clients would be critical to rehabilitating the boys who were depending on them.

  Gofer’s progress with Daniel was a good omen. Jeff spotted the teen on his knees in the garden, helping Ricochet with the planting. Over the past few weeks, the boy had lost his scared-rabbit demeanor. Daniel behaved more like an overgrown, friendly puppy now. He’d taken a particular shine to Ricochet, who didn’t seem to mind being tailed constantly by the hero-worshipping teen.

  Gofer glanced up as Jeff approached the porch. “Any luck with Plan B?”

  Jeff sank onto the top step and leaned against a porch post. “Hard to tell. Jodie said she’d think about helping us.”

  “You don’t sound encouraged.”

  “I’m not. The woman wants nothing to do with me or Archer Farm.”

  Damn, he shouldn’t have kissed her at the reception. His presumption had angered her, made her throw up her defenses and man the barricades. But nothing a re-con Marine couldn’t handle, he assured himself, and hoped he was right. He wanted her as an ally. A partner.

  Most of all, he wanted to kiss her again.

  Yeah, right. And she’d have him arrested for sexual harassment. He’d be a great example for his teenagers then.

  Try as he might, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. The pale-green dress she’d worn this afternoon had brought out the green in her hazel eyes and clung to her soft curves like his Harley hugged the road. And her sandals had exposed delectable toes with pale-pink polish on the nails. He remembered the warmth of her feet in his hands in the gazebo—

  Forget her charms and concentrate on business, he ordered himself. Tomorrow, counting Daniel, you’ll be responsible for eleven teenage boys. The last thing you need is a woman complicating your life and distracting you from your goals.

  Gofer dropped his feet to the floor and leaned toward him. “Your friend Mrs. Weatherstone couldn’t persuade her?”

  Jeff shook his head. “She tried.”

  “So what’s Plan C?”

  “Contact some restaurants and shops in Walhalla and Cashiers. Offer them the same deal.”

  The telephone rang inside the farmhouse.

  “So,” Gofer said with a reassuring grin, “you still have options.”

  “Yeah.” But not the option he wanted.

  Trace opened the screen door. “Phone’s for you, Jeff. It’s Jodie Nathan.”

  Gofer raised his eyebrows. “Suppose she’s changed her mind?”

  “Has hell frozen over?” Jeff pushed to his feet. “My guess is she’s thought about my offer and is calling to give me a definite no.”

  With a sinking feeling, he followed Trace into the house. What did it matter if Jodie turned him down? They barely knew each other.

  That’s why it mattered, he realized with a jolt. Jodie interested him more than any woman he’d ever met, and he wanted to know her a whole lot better.

  Fat chance.

  Trace returned to the kitchen, and Jeff stopped at the hall table and picked up the receiver.

  “It’s Jodie,” she said with a hint of breathlessness when he answered. “I’ve decided to accept your business offer. Can we meet at the farm tomorrow afternoon to discuss terms?”

  He held the phone at arm’s length and stared as if it had bitten him before replacing it to his ear. “Yes, but—”

  “Two o’clock,” she said in a brisk, no-nonsense tone. “See you then.”

  The line went dead.

  Shell-shocked, Jeff sank into the nearest chair. He’d traveled the world, studied different cultures, mastered battle and reconnaissance tactics, and had recently taken crash courses in business administration, agriculture, animal husbandry and adolescent psychology. But he didn’t know a damned thing about women.

  Especially a woman like Jodie.

  His mouth stretched into a slow grin. Now, however, he might have a chance to find out.

  * * *

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m doing exactly what that infuriating man asked.” Jodie eased off the accelerator until the van slowed below the speed limit. She didn’t want to arrive early at Archer Farm and appear too eager. “And I’m also talking to myself, a sure sign that I’ve totally lost my mind.”

  When she had left Mrs. Weatherstone’s yesterday, thoroughly convinced that wild horses couldn’t drag her into a business arrangement with Jeff, she’d gone straight to her mother’s to pick up Brittany, who had spent the afternoon with her grandparents.

  When Jodie arrived at the rambling, two-story house just a few blocks from Mrs. Weatherstone’s, she found her daughter in the family room, watching a baseball game on TV with Jodie’s father and painting her fingernails and toenails black again. Jodie sighed. So much for the brief respite from Brittany’s Goth phase.

  Leaving the pair to their game, Jodie wandered through the homey kitchen and out the door to the backyard. Her mother reclined in an Adirondack chair in the shade of an apple tree with her feet propped on a wooden footstool, a book open in her lap.

  “Hi, darlin’,” she called. “Come join me. Feet still hurt?”

  Jodie sat in the chair usually reserved for her father and frown
ed. “They’re the least of my problems.”

  “Better tell me about it.” Sophie closed her book and gave Jodie her undivided attention. With dark hair and eyes like Grant, short and pleasantly plump, her mother reminded her of an energetic sparrow.

  Jodie described her afternoon at Mrs. Weatherstone’s and outlined Jeff’s proposition. “But I can’t have anything to do with him, Mama.”

  Sophie’s eyes constricted in disappointment. “You haven’t signed that petition?”

  “What petition?”

  “People were talking about it at the reception last night. Some folks want the county to pass an ordinance banning Archer Farm’s operation as a rehabilitation facility. They don’t want all those troubled teens in the area.”

  “That’s not fair.” The injustice offended her. “Jeff’s put his heart and soul into this project.” She thought for a moment. “On the other hand...”

  “You agree with them?” Sophie looked surprised.

  A persistent worry niggled at Jodie’s brain, and she came clean, as always, with her mother. “I can relate to their fears because I’m concerned for Brittany, but I’d never try to shut down Archer Farm. I’ll just keep her away from its residents.”

  Her mother tilted her head to one side and eyed Jodie with a bright-eyed, searching glance. “If you’re not against the farm, why won’t you take his business offer? It could increase your profits.”

  Jodie squirmed beneath her mother’s scrutiny. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Are you falling in love with him?”

  “No!” Jodie answered immediately but couldn’t stop the flush that spread from her neck to her forehead.

  “You’re sure?”

  Glad she could talk to Sophie about anything, Jodie answered, “My heart beats faster around him. My palms sweat and my knees go weak. And my brain shuts down completely, so that all I can think about is Jeff. But I felt the same way about Randy Mercer. And once my head cleared, I knew I didn’t love him.”

  Sophie nodded in agreement. “You were infatuated. That’s not the same as love.”

  “I was a teenager then. I’m thirty years old now, but I feel fifteen all over again when Jeff walks through the door.”

  Her mother’s pretty face with its rosy apple cheeks took on a musing cast. “Not all infatuations lead to love. But almost all love begins with infatuation.”

  “So how do you know when it’s really love?” Jodie asked.

  “First, you have to like the man.”

  Jodie scowled. “I like plenty of men, but I don’t love them, at least not in a romantic way.”

  Sophie’s eyes held a faraway look, as if she were remembering falling in love. “Physical thrills aren’t enough. When you love someone, you want to wake up every morning to see his face on the pillow next to you. You can’t wait to share everything that happens in your life and his, even the insignificant day-to-day details. And you place his happiness and wellbeing at the top of your priority list, right beside your own. Most of all, you can’t imagine living in a world without him.”

  With a wave of relief, Jodie stood and paced the thick grass that her father tended so carefully. “So I can’t love Jeff. I hardly know him. As far as I’m aware, we have nothing in common.”

  Sophie’s smile was the sweetest Jodie had ever seen. “Getting to know someone can be a great cure for infatuation. Maybe you should spend more time with him. Get him out of your system, so to speak.”

  “He scares me, Mama.”

  “Does Jeff scare you, or are you afraid of yourself?” Sophie asked softly.

  Jodie sank back into her chair. “I don’t want to end up pregnant and abandoned again.”

  Her mother leaned over and patted her knee. “You’re a different person from that shy, awkward teen that Randy Mercer took advantage of. You needn’t worry. Besides, with the opposition brewing in this town, Jeff needs all the friends he can get. Grant insists Jeff’s a good and decent man. And considering what he’s doing at Archer Farm, his heart is certainly in the right place. Maybe you were too hasty in refusing his offer.”

  “From the sound of the campaign mounted against him, he’ll need some friends,” Jodie agreed. “Maybe with us, the Strattons and Mrs. Weatherstone as allies, he can beat this petition.”

  “Just remember, sometimes friendship turns into something more,” her mother reminded her. “Your father’s been my best friend for over thirty-seven years.”

  “And sometimes plain friendship is enough,” Jodie said firmly.

  She stood, put her arms around her mother and noted that the gray had become more prevalent than brown in her thick hair. She kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thanks, Mama. I love you.”

  “All things work to the good,” Sophie reminded her and returned her hug.

  Jodie had left her mother reading her book and gone into the house to call Jeff.

  Today, however, she was second-guessing her decision and questioning her motives. Had she agreed with her mother because allying with Jeff was the right thing to do? Or had she been driven by the infatuation she was hoping to work out of her system? One fact was certain. Jodie wouldn’t allow herself to make foolish mistakes. If Jeff’s appeal threatened her reason, she’d remember her mother’s calm, cool logic and keep her head on straight.

  Buoyed by her internal pep talk, she pressed the gas pedal again.

  When she arrived at the farm, however, the sight of Jeff, tanned and buff in cargo shorts, taut olive-drab T-shirt and work boots, blew all logic and reason to smithereens. Striding down the walk to meet her, he’d never looked more appealing. His wide, welcoming smile made her heart pound against her rib cage.

  “What do you think of the place?” he asked with obvious pride. “Different from the last time you were here, huh?”

  She dragged her attention from the handsome angles of his face and the well-developed muscles beneath the strained cotton of his shirt and looked around. Every building gleamed with fresh paint, flowers blossomed at each entry, even by the chicken coop, and the formerly stark red clay of the lawn and gardens sprouted young green growth.

  “Wow. You guys are miracle workers,” she said with awe. “You did all this in a month?”

  “We had help. Grant and Dr. Stratton gave us a hand. Jay-Jay came up from his garage in town and tuned up Daddy’s old tractor. Everything’s coming together just in time. Our clients should arrive any minute. Let me give you the tour.”

  Jodie fell in step beside him and noted that he adjusted his long stride to match her shorter steps. He towered a foot above her, and she couldn’t stop thinking of how those powerful arms had encircled her Saturday night in the gazebo, or how strong and solid his body had felt against hers. Even in the open air, his tantalizing scent led her thoughts in dangerous directions.

  It’s merely infatuation, a physical attraction, she reminded herself. You’ll get over it, so get a grip.

  They entered the new dorm first. What had been a skeleton of timbers when Jodie last saw it was now as inviting as a mountain lodge resort. A huge stone fireplace at one end of the great room had several deep leather sofas grouped in front. Large windows offered sweeping vistas of the surrounding mountains and the valley below. Braided rugs, plump cushions and matching draperies added splashes of color. Someone had filled pottery jugs with Queen Anne’s lace and black-eyed Susans and placed them on the mantel and side tables for a cozy touch.

  Opposite the great room, immaculate stainless steel commercial-grade appliances like the ones in her café dominated the kitchen. A huge dining table, big enough for twenty, doubled as a work station. Behind the kitchen, a hall opened onto four small bedrooms for the resident counselors with a private sitting room containing a media center and bookshelves, and two adjoining bathrooms.

  “The team’s been living in the house,” Jeff said, “but they’ll move in here tonight.”

  “None of them is married?” Jodie asked.

  Jeff shook his head. “Re-con Marines
don’t make good husbands.”

  “Why not?” Maybe his answer would supply more reasons to resist him.

  “They’re deployed at a moment’s notice,” Jeff said, “and they can’t say where they’re going or when—or if—they’ll return. Those conditions don’t foster good family situations.”

  “But your team’s not in the Marines any longer.”

  Jeff rolled back the sleeve of his T-shirt and pointed to the Marine insignia tattoo on his biceps. “Once a Marine, always a Marine.”

  “But you’re not being deployed now,” Jodie argued. “Any member of your team could settle down—if he wanted.”

  “We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it,” Jeff said. “Right now, we’re focused on making Archer Farm work. We don’t have wives, but tonight we’ll have eleven boys in our care. Five more arrive in a week. That’s all the family this team can handle for now.”

  Jodie scanned his features. Was he sending her a not-so-subtle message? Or had her raging hormones infused his simple statement with a signal he hadn’t intended? Obviously his earlier kiss in the gazebo had been casual, at best, no strings attached. At any rate, she considered herself warned. Archer Farm left Jeff no time for her, except as a business partner.

  And wasn’t that what she wanted?

  Before she could contemplate further, he said, “C’mon. I’ll show you upstairs.”

  Across from the central front door, they climbed wide stairs to the second story where four huge bedrooms with four beds each had been painted in bright primary colors and furnished with coordinating spreads and curtains, cushioned chairs, study desks and foot lockers. On each end of the floor, a massive bathroom with walk-in showers sparkled with new porcelain fixtures.

  “All the comforts of home,” Jodie observed with approval.

  “For most of these kids,” Jeff said quietly, “this dorm will be a step up from the homes they’ve known.”

  Jodie couldn’t help remembering Jeff’s deprived childhood. No wonder he wanted these boys to have what he’d never known. “This is homey and practical, but without that institutional look.”