His Hometown Girl. Karen Rock

Tyler like this convinced her that she was on the right path, no matter how many cuts and bruises she got along the way. Daniel may have won last night’s battle, but the war wasn’t over.

      And her enemy’s sister was in her backyard. Coincidence?

      “I heard you were in town and wanted to come over and say hi.” Sue’s wide smile made her look more pixie-like than Jodi recalled. Sue shoved her glasses higher on her delicate nose and peered up at Jodi. “How are you?”

      Jodi swallowed. How much had she heard from her big brother?

      “I’m fine. Tired, I suppose.” She laughed self-consciously and plucked at her sleepwear. “Good morning, Tyler, Aunt Grace.” She leaned down to kiss his cheek, and he turned and caught her on the lips instead.

      Happiness filled her. Tyler loved her. He might not be able to say the words, but his actions spoke for him.

      “Morning, sleepyhead.” Her aunt’s eyes crinkled. “That must have been some reunion.”

      “Something like that.” Jodi avoided Sue’s assessing stare. “If you don’t mind waiting a minute, I’ll grab Tyler’s glasses, change and be right back.”

      “Sounds good.” Sue blew the duck whistle again and the memory of Daniel whittling them chased Jodi to the house.

      Inside, she leaned against the shut door, the glass knob digging into her spine. What was Sue’s real motive for being here? They’d grown up together, had been in the same 4-H groups and riding club. The two-year age difference meant they’d spent time hanging out, but had never been close friends. Was she the next weapon in Daniel’s arsenal?

      Five minutes later, Jodi rejoined them on the pier, her tank top the same emerald as the Adirondack Mountains across the lake, her jean shorts practical in the rising heat. When she kneeled on the dock, she twisted her hair in a high ponytail, earning it a tug from Tyler when she pulled his eyeglasses band over his head.

      “Hey!” She untangled his fingers, then lifted them to her lips before he could swat her. Prevention like that was pure autistic mother instinct. “Hands to ourselves, Ty.”

      “Ah!” He kicked off his sneaker and it arced into the lake, where it bobbed on the surface. Jodi smothered a sigh and kept her face neutral as Tyler watched her. At least it wasn’t his glasses.

      “Got it!” Sue slid onto her belly and snagged the shoe when it drifted close. She pointed the dripping sneaker at Tyler before handing it to Jodi. “Sneakers are for feet, not fish,” she said with a smile.

      Tyler’s improbable, deep chuckle was infectious. His head pivoted on his shoulders, his eyes wide. When he reached for the band behind his head, Jodi tugged him into her arms. “Glasses don’t swim either, Ty.”

      “Want to go in?” Sue lifted the hem of an open-stitch crochet half shirt to reveal a bathing suit underneath.