Rustic Hearts (Poplar Falls Book 1)

by Amber Kelly

  “Now, now, Viv, I’m sure Sophie knows what she is doing. We don’t need to meddle.” Stanhope placatingly pats her hand as he delivers the blow.

  My mother is the master meddler. Especially when it comes to my life. I’m the only thirty-two-year-old I know whose mother still hovers like she did when I was a child.

  “Of course she does, but there is no harm in a few helpful suggestions, now is there, darling?”

  “Not at all, Mom.”

  The waiter arrives to take our orders and opens another bottle of wine.

  “Charlotte, how is that brother of yours doing? Is he still at Harvard?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He has one more year of law school.”

  “Your parents must be so proud. Does he plan to move back to New York after graduation?”

  “I’m not sure. He seems to love the Boston area.”

  “Boston is a lovely town, but Manhattan is the place to be for any bright, up-and-coming corporate attorney. You should give him Stanhope’s contact information. Perhaps Stan could make a few beneficial introductions for him.”

  Charlotte gives me a pointed look as she answers, “Sure thing, Mrs. Marshall. I’ll pass that along next time we talk.”

  “Mom,” I warn, “we’ve talked about this. Alex and I are not getting back together.”

  “Never say never, darling.”

  “Never. There, I said it.”

  “Oh, Sophia, I don’t know why you insist on being alone. A strong, independent woman does not, by definition, have to be a single woman. I want you to be as happy as I was when I met Stan. Being his wife is my greatest joy. Can’t a mother want that for her daughter?”

  What she means is, she wants me to find a wealthy man with a prestigious name and let being his wife be my greatest joy. I know my mother loves Stanhope, but I also know that love would not be enough to keep her joyous forever should he wake up penniless one day.

  “Mom, I don’t need a husband to have joy. I’m very happy. If the right relationship comes along, great. If not, that’s okay too.”

  “Speaking of, I gave your number to my friend Lydia. Her son, Lawrence, recently bought an uptown loft near your office, and she thought maybe you two could meet for drinks or dinner or something one evening.”

  “Mom, you didn’t,” I groan.

  “He’s handsome and successful and just a sweetheart. He picked her up from the club the other day in his new McLaren, and he offered to take us both to lunch. Such a gentleman and a real estate mogul. He has purchased and flipped an impressive number of properties in SoHo and Tribeca and is doing a renovation in the Hamptons. That boy is going places.”

  I roll my eyes in Charlotte’s direction.

  “Can’t you meet him for drinks? He moved here all the way from Atlanta, and he doesn’t know that many people in the city. He could use a friend if nothing else.”

  “Viv, don’t push.”

  Stanhope gives me a sympathetic look. We both know that once my mother gets an idea in her head, come hell or high water, she will connive and scheme until she gets her way. It’s better just to give in than to fight it.

  “Fine. If he calls, I’ll be happy to meet him out. As a friend.”

  At that, she beams her gorgeous hundred-watt smile at me.

  Charlotte chuckles and then coughs out, “Sucker,” under her breath.

  I am indeed a sucker when it comes to my mother.

  We finish our meals, and Stanhope orders one of every dessert they have on the menu along with a bottle of their best champagne.

  We toast to the future, and for the first time, I feel like I’ve found my niche in this world. I’ve always felt a little like an outsider here. It’s been twenty years since we landed in Manhattan, and it has taken me all this time to feel like I belong. I’m not the Colorado imposter anymore. I’m a true New Yorker, a businesswoman, and my career is just taking off. I can’t wait to see what comes next.

  Sophie

  The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. Gail and Marcus approved the set of sketches I’d sent over, and my line launched in the stores two days ago. Just in time for the holiday sales push. According to Gail, end of September, first of October is the ideal shopping period to maximize holiday sales.

  It was a more significant success than I could have imagined. Maple and Park almost instantly sold out of all the in-stock pieces at both locations and placed a double order for next month.

  Our manufacturing shop was completed late last week, and our staff has been working nonstop to replenish Maple and Park’s stock and to fulfill their online orders.

  At this rate, we’ll be able to break even this year. That’s a remarkable feat for a first-year start-up.

  Stanhope is more than pleased with the return on his investment, and he has other partners who are ready to invest if I need that cash flow in the future. For now, however, I’m content to continue at the pace we are growing and see how it goes.

  I just finished my last conference call with a raw material supplier and have a few minutes to freshen myself up before Lawrence—Mom’s fix-up—picks me up for our blind date.

  I don’t date often. It’s not that I don’t want to date; it’s just easier not to. After Alex and I broke up when he moved to Cambridge for law school, I went out with a few guys from class and even joined an online dating service, but the last few guys I met online were less than honest on their profiles. One flat-out used a different name, photo, and bio. When he showed up at the coffee shop we had agreed to meet at, he was at least two decades older than he had listed. It’s hard being single in this day and age. No one is who they present themselves to be on social media.

  Lawrence picks me up from the office at six p.m., and we head around the corner to one of my favorite casual bar restaurants for happy hour and dinner.

  Mom was right. He is beautiful, tall with dark hair that he pulls back off his face into a tasteful man bun. His cheekbones are high and his jaw chiseled. He has full lips and gorgeous caramel-colored eyes. I actually think Mom might have done the impossible and set me up with someone with potential. That is, until about halfway through dinner.

  “So, Sophia, how is it that someone as stunning as you is still single?” he asks nonchalantly as he twirls the stem of his wineglass.

  “Just haven’t met the right guy, I suppose. Not that I haven’t been a little too preoccupied to look for him.”

  “I bet you wouldn’t have to look too hard. I’m sure a long line of men would be at your door, if given a chance. I’ll be honest, the way your mother persisted, I half-expected a middle-aged spinster, not a beautiful, smart, sexy woman.”

  I take a sip of my wine and let his compliment pour over me like warm honey. “Thank you. You’re not hard on the eyes yourself, and yes, my mother is very persistent when she wants something. Although I would bet it took a lot more persuading for you to agree to this date than it did for me.”

  He quirks one eyebrow in question. “What makes you say that?”

  I lean in and lower my voice to just above a whisper. “Because, Mr. Newberry, I dare say you have spent much more time tonight gazing into our waiter’s eyes than you have mine.”

  He sinks back in his chair and gives me a sexy grin. Then, he shrugs. “Still not a hardship to spend the evening with you, Miss Lancaster.”

  I raise my glass. “To the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  “Indeed.”

  He winks and clinks his glass with mine.

  After dinner, we move to the bar and end up closing the place down. I call myself an Uber, and Lawrence takes our waiter, Jose, back to his apartment.

  All in all, not the worst date I’ve ever been on.

  My phone rings as I make it home.

  I grab it from my purse and answer, “Hi, Mom. Hold on a second. I’m just unlocking my door.”

  Once I’m inside, I pick back up.

  “So, how did the date go? Or is it still going? Is he there?” she asks hopefull
y.

  “No, it’s just me. He got a better offer.”

  “What do you mean, he got a better offer?”

  “I mean, our date ended when he picked up another one at the bar.”

  “What? He didn’t!” She gasps, appalled by the possibility.

  “Oh, he did,” I confirm.

  “That’s just not done. I’m calling Lydia this instant.”

  “Mom, Lawrence is into men. He left with our server.”

  “He just left you and went off with someone else in the middle of your date? How rude,” she stammers, offended on my behalf.

  “It wasn’t the middle; it was the end. Did you hear the part about him being gay, Mom?”

  “Yes. Damn it, all the pretty ones are nowadays.”

  “Yeah, they are,” I agree because, well, they are.

  “Are you sure he’s not just bi-curious?”

  “Mom!”

  “Just asking.”

  “No. And how do you even know what bi-curious is?”

  “Please, I grew up in the seventies. We were all about free love.”

  Ew. I do not want to hear anything about my mother and free love.

  “I’m sorry, darling. Lydia never mentioned he was unavailable in that way. Oh my, she must not know.”

  “It’s fine. It was actually one of the better dates I’d been on lately.”

  “Oh, honey. That’s just sad.”

  We both burst into laughter because she’s not wrong.

  “I want you to be happy, baby. Married to a handsome man who treats you like a princess.”

  “I am happy, Mom. And I know you are jonesing to be a grandmother but—”

  “What? No, I’m way too young to be a grandmother. My mother is a grandmother. Not me.”

  “If you marry me off and I start popping out babies, what do you think that’s going to make you?”

  “Nina. I’ll be Nina.”

  “Did you just make that up?”

  “Yes. Don’t you think it sounds so much more sophisticated than grandmother?”

  There really isn’t a posh alternative to the title grandmother. When I was little, I called my grandparents Maw Maw and Paw Paw and Gram and Pop. None of those would do for Vivian Marshall.

  “Not really. But don’t worry. I don’t plan to make you use either title anytime soon.”

  I yawn.

  “It’s late. I’ll let you get your beauty sleep, darling. I’m sorry about the Lawrence thing.”

  “It’s okay, Mom. I think I made a new friend, and in my book, that’s a pretty good way to spend an evening.”

  “Good night, my onliest only.”

  “Good night, Mom.”

  Sophie

  “You have a call on line one. Someone named Doe. Who the hell names their child Doe?”

  My chest seizes as Charlotte’s voice comes through the intercom.

  “It’s my aunt Doreen. My father’s older sister. I used to call her Aunt Doe when I was little.”

  “Oh,” she says in surprise. “You want me to get rid of her?”

  I haven’t spoken to anyone in my father’s family since I was a kid. They’re practically strangers now. Just faded memories.

  Something must have happened for her to reach out now.

  Momentary fear hits me. What if it’s Daddy?

  “No, I’ll take it. Just give me a minute and send her through.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you two.”

  I take a few deep breaths and give myself a quick pep talk before the line rings, and I answer, “Hello?”

  “Sophie,” she says my name on a small sob.

  “Hi, Aunt Doe.”

  “How are you, baby girl?”

  “Not a baby girl anymore. It’s been a long time. What can I do for you?”

  “I know. Too long. I’m hoping to remedy that though. We need you to come home, sweetheart.”

  Home. For so many years, all I wanted to do was go home. But now, this is home. New York is home.

  “I’m assuming you mean Colorado.”

  “Yes. Your grandma Lancaster passed away this morning. It would mean a lot to Pop and us if you could come home for the service.”

  My grandma was a huge part of my childhood. I loved her with all my heart. She taught me how to bake cookies and braid my hair.

  Grief hits me. Unexpected pain. I mourned the loss of my family a long time ago. I thought I was past it.

  “I don’t know, Aunt Doe,” I whisper over the line.

  “Sophie, it’s time to come home and face your father and work this out. Don’t you think?”

  “Why should I go to him? He knows where I am. He’s always known where I am. Not once in all these years has he come looking for me.”

  “It has to be you, sweetheart. He’s a stubborn, old coot. He wants to see you, Sophie. He doesn’t know how to reach out.”

  I snort. “Of course he does. He’s a grown man. A grown man with a happy family from what I’ve been told.”

  “A grown man with an incomplete family and a broken heart.”

  I sniffle across the line. I don’t believe a word she’s saying.

  “A broken heart? He threw us away. He threw me away because of them. He wanted them instead of us.”

  “Oh, Sophie, honey, you only know the part of the story you were told, but it’s not the whole story.”

  “Really? What am I missing, Aunt Doe? Because, from where I’m sitting, it looks like my mother caught him having an affair with one of the ranch hands’ sisters, and when she confronted him, he told her to get out. Then, he proceeded to marry the woman, the two of them raised her niece and nephew, and he forgot all about us. Am I right so far?”

  “That’s not the whole story or the entire truth.”

  “You know what? It doesn’t even matter anymore. I’m okay now. I’m no longer the shattered twelve-year-old, waiting for him to call or show up. He’s had twenty years to clear up anything that he needed to. Twenty years of missed birthdays and holidays and school events and graduations. He’s missed my entire life.”

  “I know he has. And that is a regret he will have to live with for the rest of his days. But, sweetheart, I don’t want something to happen to him or to you and for the two of you to never have the conversation you need to have. Besides, Pop and Aunt Ria and I are getting old, and we want to see our girl. At least once more. Come home for Gram’s funeral. Please, Sophia.”

  She’s laying it on thick. Exactly the way I remember her.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I ask. The service is scheduled for next weekend. We’ll have the will reading after, and Gram’s attorney asked for you to be present for that as well. Book a flight and call me. You can stay here at the house. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  And I have. I forgot just how much until I heard her voice again.

  I hang up and then sit and stare at the phone. Hurt that I thought I was well past starts to prick at my heart.

  When my mother stole away with me in the middle of the night all those years ago, I knew my daddy would come for me. Even once we got to New York, I waited for him. Every day. But he never came.

  After about a year of me asking to call him and begging to go home, Mom broke the news that he was marrying someone else and that he was moving a new family into our home and didn’t want us anymore. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t believe it for a very long time. But he never came, so I accepted it and boxed up all that hurt and all those memories of my life in Colorado, placed them in a compartment in my heart, cemented it closed, and tried not to think of him or the ranch ever again.

  I hear a soft knock, and then Charlotte’s head peeks around the door to my office.

  “Are you okay?”

  I swipe at the tears falling down my cheeks and nod. “I’m fine. Just assaulted by a bunch of memories that I’ve been trying to forget since I was twelve. I guess the wounds are just as fresh. Stupid.”r />
  “It’s not stupid.” She comes and sits in the chair across from me. “What made her call all of a sudden?”

  “My gram died.”

  “Oh, Sophie, I’m so sorry.”

  I shrug. “She died, and I never got to tell her how much I loved her and how much I appreciated all she had done for me when I was little. I should’ve called her. I just didn’t. I don’t even know why.”

  Just because Daddy didn’t want me anymore didn’t mean I had to shut everyone out. I guess it just made it easier to pretend as if none of them existed.

  “I’m sure she knew, and I’m sure she loved you too.”

  “Aunt Doreen wants me to come home for the funeral and the will reading.”

  She folds her hands and places them on the desk close to mine. “Maybe you should,” she says carefully.

  I look up at her. “You think so?”

  “Yeah, I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? You find that your dear ole dad has this great family and life and doesn’t want to have anything to do with you? You already think that, so what?” She shrugs.

  “You think I want to witness it?”

  “No, but what if you’re wrong, Soph? What if he misses you and has all these years? What if he wants to be a part of your life? Don’t you think it’s worth a shot? You walk around, acting like you don’t need anyone, especially a man in your life. You sabotage every single relationship. Just like you did with Alex. You freaked out on him when he applied to college. Like he was abandoning you. He wanted you to consider moving with him or doing the long-distance thing for a while, but you jumped ship the moment he mentioned Boston and wouldn’t allow him to explain.”

  I sit there and absorb what she said in silence.

  “I get it. I do. And if you were single because you wanted to be, fine, but you are because you’re scared of needing a man or loving one too much and being let down again. You make every single guy in your life pay for what your dad did, and that’s not fair. Until you face it head-on, you’re always going to fear being loved. I don’t want that for you. I mean, the worst that could happen is, he doesn’t want you. But maybe, just maybe, what you find in Colorado will surprise you. You owe it to yourself to find out.”