His Hometown Girl by Karen Rock: Flashback #1- A Rose by any other Name

Daniel Gleason was sixteen and felt like he owned the world. Or he belonged to it. It was all the same. As a farm boy who’d grown up more outdoors than in, he felt like a part of nature. Wouldn’t have it any other way. His hands were calloused, his muscles strong, his face burnt a ruddy brown color that even the long, Vermont winters couldn’t totally erase. But it was summer now, and he could feel the back of his neck crisp as he waited for the signal to begin the 4H scavenger hunt. He had to win it.

He glanced over at his arch rival, Jodi Lynn Chapman. A warm breeze blew blonde strands around her pretty face. The sun glinted off a braid that started at the top of her head and ended at her tiny waist, spinning it to gold. He shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking of her like that. Not when she’d made it plain she couldn’t stand the sight of him. But he thought of her often. More than he should. His eyes drifted her way again. With her hair off her face, he admired her pert nose, that full mouth he pictured too often, and the blue eyes that were irresistible when they sparked mad at him. Which was often. Riling her was one of his favorite past times, next to driving tractor and feeding the barn cats.

He mopped his brow and squinted up at the bright sky, searching for a cloud that’d ease the ninety degree day. But all was blue and green around him, the maple, oak and elm tree line that separated the sprouting farm fields too far away for shade.

“Go!” shouted their 4H leader and he took off for the Rennadette’s faded red barn, the spot of their annual field day. Within twenty minutes he had all but one item tucked in his sack, a trowel. It was the simplest instrument and there should be a dozen of them hanging around. He’d run up and down the line of lowing cows, the sweet hay swell reminding him of home. After searching the work rooms and sheds, he’d come up short. Worse, he hadn’t spotted Jodi once. While that helped him focus, it took the fun right out of the contest. Suddenly a thought occurred. Hadn’t Mrs. Rennadette been working in her roses when they’d all pulled up? He bet she’d had a trowel there.

He doubled back and raced outside, the brick oven heat turned up to broil. Around the side of the two-story white farmhouse, near a rambling stone wall, he spotted the colorful blooms. Most beautiful of all, was Jodi, tramping between them, her thick eyelashes fanned across her pink cheeks as she scanned the ground. Shoot! Like so many other times, they’d had the same thought. He couldn’t let her win this. Not when she’d won earlier by catching a greased pig. How those small hands of hers had caught that squealer he’d never know. But he had to give it to her. For a little thing, she was determined and no quitter. He liked that, and a lot more about Jodi Lynn.

“What are you looking for, Daniel?” Jodi’s soft voice carried in the still, flower-scented air. A blonde eyebrow arched upwards, her face smug.

He swatted at a fly and joined her in the garden. “None of your business,” he drawled, trying not to stare at the strip of tanned, flat belly showing above her low waist shorts and tied off shirt. He had to find the trowel, not drool over girls. Or a girl. There’d only been one that’d ever attracted him this way. Jodi.

She pointed at a metal tool near her feet, blue-painted nails peeping out of her sandals. “Not this trowel then?”

Instinctively he dove, his hand groping blindly for the instrument. He felt the cold metal at his fingertips then nothing but air. He brushed the dirt from his face and blinked up at her as she danced back a few steps, the tool in her hand.

“I had it.” He stood to his full height, the tallest in their high school’s regional division, his varsity basketball coach often bragged.

Jodi’s laugh rang out, the sound like coins spilling from his pocket. “ ‘Had’ being the operative word.”

He stepped closer and she angled her head upwards, her small jaw set, not budging an inch. Admiration and something else flared inside of him, doing something funny to his gut.

“I had it first. Fair and square.” His hand wrapped around her wrist, her skin soft against his rough palm.

“I saw it first so that makes it mine.” The sky seemed trapped in her eyes, the blue so intense he felt light-headed looking into them. It was like staring straight into the sun. “Sorry, Daniel. Looks like you lost this one too.”

He let go when she tugged her hand away and winced as the trowel disappeared in her burlap sack. When she stepped around him, he turned and blocked her way. He hated losing, but seeing her go cut even deeper.

“You owe me.” He took of his baseball hat and let the sudden wind blowing a jangling wind chime ruffle his hair.

She put a hand on her hips and cocked her head. “Yeah? What do you want?”

His mouth dried up and a million thoughts scrambled through his brain. What did he want from the girl that he’d battled with all these years? “A kiss,” he blurted, the truth having its say.

Her eyes sparkled and her lips parted in another laugh that made his muscles tighten. He held his hands behind his back, sure they’d reach for that tiny waist and haul her close.

“Sure. Now close your eyes.”

His pulse beat against his skin and drummed in his ears. Was his enemy about to kiss him? The girl he’d wanted to have more than he wanted to beat? He closed his eyes and felt her draw close, the clean, fresh scent of her sending his senses into overdrive. He shook inside but held himself still. This would be his first kiss. And it’d be with Jodi.

A warm rush of air blew past his cheeks and when he opened his eyes, he saw that’d she’d leaped over a couple of rows and was already heading back towards the barn. His hopes fell from somewhere in his chest and crashed down to his workboats.

“That wasn’t a kiss,” he hollered, not giving a d–n if a couple of kids nearby heard him.

When she whirled around, her delighted face stopped his heart. “You didn’t say what kind so I blew you one. Hope you enjoyed it because it’s the closest you’ll ever come to getting a kiss from me!”

And with that she dashed to join the milling group, holding her bag high. Game. Set. Match, Jodi. Daniel replaced his cap and pulled it low over his eyes. She might have won today’s battle, but he had a new campaign in mind when it came to Jodi. One he was determined to win. He’d have that kiss. The real kind.

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