Wicked Hearts (Poplar Falls Book 3)

by Amber Kelly

  Jefferson sat down at the table and heard me out. I was desperate by that point, and I held nothing back. I told him of the predicament I’d found myself in and how I really needed work. Any work. Until I could figure out our next move.

  After I finished, Jefferson explained that they really didn’t need any more staff at Rustic Peak, but he’d keep me in mind come the next calving season.

  That was when Gram, Jefferson’s mother and matriarch of the Lancaster family, chimed in. She said she could use a handyman to work on a few projects she’d been screaming at Pop to get around to at the house, but he had been too busy. Hope welled in my chest as she talked Jefferson into giving me a small advance, and then she told me I was not quitting school because my baby deserved better than a daddy who gave up. She told me to show up every day after class, and she’d have a list of things for me to do.

  I still remember the way the calm spread through my body when she laid her hand on mine, looked me in the eye, and told me that everything was going to work out the way it was supposed to.

  “God has a plan for you, Walker Reid,” she said.

  Filled with hope, I left Rustic Peak that day with a hundred-dollar advance in my pocket and a temporary handyman job.

  My next stop was my grandparents’ home. It was just an old mine shack on the outskirts of town. Granddad worked for the Denver Basin Coal Mine from the time he was a boy until they closed the Poplar Falls Mine in 1979. The company dispersed, and the owner sold off the shacks they had built to accommodate the miners from out of town. For a steal, Granddad bought a shack and a couple acres of land that surrounded the mine’s entrance. He fixed it up, and he and my grandmother lived there while he began building a large barn in the backyard and clearing the land where he intended to start a small farm and grow out from there.

  “You made a life, Walker. The timing might be off, but babies are always a blessing,” Granddad said when I told him of my plans.

  Grandma had passed the year before, and Granddad had her wedding rings in his safe for me. The time had come to collect those small treasures. It wasn’t much, but I knew that many decades of unconditional love were infused in those rings. They had to bring us luck.

  I was on cloud nine that day as I drove back to my house, a new man and a proud father-to-be, one who was employed, going back to finish school, and planning to propose to my dream girl and the mother of my child. As terrified as I had been when we found out about the baby, I was so ready to tackle life with my new family.

  But it wasn’t meant to be.

  Robin and her parents had gone to Denver that afternoon, as they’d made the decision to terminate the pregnancy while I was out, making plans for our future. They hadn’t even had the decency to tell me they were going.

  She stopped returning my calls, and when I came to their door, desperate to see her, her father threatened to call the sheriff. She finally snuck off one evening and showed up at my bedroom window. She was a mess. I held her and told her how much I loved her and that everything would be okay. We grieved our child together. I showed her the rings and told her that, one day, we would start our family. That was when she turned my world upside down. She had been the one to ask her parents to help her end the pregnancy. She didn’t want to be a teenage mother. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be a mother at all. Then, she said she needed time apart to think.

  Her family moved out of Poplar Falls three weeks later. She never came to tell me good-bye. I guess that night on my front porch, when she’d shared her confession, was my good-bye. Not much was good about it.

  Nothing, except for the fact that I landed at Rustic Peak some sixteen years ago.

  Never in a million years would I have thought that I would someday be running the ranch with Braxton, the two of us thick as thieves, brothers. I was as much a part of the Lancaster family as I was a part of my own family, more so even. Life sure has a way of throwing curveballs at us.

  During my father’s last few years, my mother and I were trapped in a living nightmare. Mom retreated into herself. She was unable to protect me from him and unable to save herself. I think her mind just took her to a place outside of reality to cope.

  I came home from work one evening ten years ago and found him unconscious, face down in his own vomit. My dad had drunk himself to death, and honestly, his death was a relief. We buried him beside my grandmother. No one showed up for his funeral, except Mom, Granddad, and the preacher. What a sad end to a sad life.

  I’ve been taking care of my mother since then. She still lives in the same house, but she pretty much keeps to herself and doesn’t do anything but tool around in her yard, moving bushes and flowers around. It’s not much of a life, but it’s peaceful, and I think peace is all she’s ever really wanted. She has one brother but they had a falling out over my father years ago and she hasn’t spoken to him much since. I see him and my aunt from time to time but I wouldn’t call us close. Mom is all I have and she barely acknowledges my existence. I believe I remind her too much of my father and I swear she sees his face when she looks at me sometimes.

  Granddad passed a couple of years ago. He had done a good job of fixing that old mine shack up into a nice cabin. He never got around to finishing the barn or starting the farm like he’d planned. The bones are there, but after Grandma died, he didn’t have the same drive any longer. He spent his time fishing in the trout stream behind his shack and piddling around in his tool shed.

  I call that old shack home now. He left it, the land, the half-built barn, and an old diesel truck to me when he went to join his beloved. I bet she was standing at the Pearly Gates, waiting with open arms too.

  Me, however, I gave up on that love bullshit a long time ago. I’d loved Robin. I’d thought that the baby would be a blessing. I never even got to find out if it was a boy or girl. It was probably the universe’s way of saving a child from having a piss-poor guy like me as its dad. I’m an excellent friend, I’m a great employee, and I do my best to be a good son. But if I’m destined to be a father like my own dad, I think it is better I just don’t. Actually, I have zero interest in being a husband or a father anymore. The bachelor life ain’t half bad. No one depends on me, and I have no one I have to behave for or set a good example for. It’s not a bad life at all.

  I wish Granddad could see me now. He always had faith in me and was the only person in my family I ever gave a damn about making proud.

  I hope you’re watching me from somewhere up there, old man.

  “What has you over here, scowling at that bottle? I thought we came to this bar to have a party?” Myer’s voice pulls me from the past.

  I look up and see the concern on his face. “I’m scowling because my bottle is almost empty. What’s a guy got to do to get a pretty girl to buy him a drink around here?” I shout to the crowd.

  “Here you go, cowboy,” Elle says as she approaches and sets down a glass of something peach-colored in front of me.

  “Aw, Elle, you bought me a drink?”

  “Not really,” she says as she sits down. “Some guy at the bar bought it for me.”

  “Why aren’t you drinking it?” I ask.

  “For all I know, he put something in it, and that’s what turned it that funky color,” she says as she curls her nose.

  I look down in the glass. “So, you’re giving it to me, so I can be drugged? That’s just plain mean, woman,” I say as I take a drink from the glass. I make a face because the super-sweet concoction is horrible.

  She grins at me. “Hopefully, if he tries to take advantage of you later, Myer here will protect you,” she coos.

  “Sorry, man. Dallas just texted me, and she wants fries, smothered in cheese with jalapeños, and a chocolate shake, so I’m leaving as soon as Deb brings my food out.”

  “Another one bites the dust,” I say as I shake my head at him.

  “Yep.” He slaps my back and walks off toward the bar before shouting over his shoulder, “Good luck!”

  “So, wh
y are you sitting here, looking all sad and lonely? I thought you came to celebrate. Shouldn’t you be talking up a gorgeous female and making her a bunch of false promises or something?” Elle asks.

  “First of all, I am neither sad nor lonely, and I have never made a girl a promise I didn’t deliver on,” I say with a grin. “And I’m sitting here, talking to the prettiest girl in the place right now.”

  She blushes.

  “Yeah, right,” she says, and something about the way she says it gets my attention.

  “It’s the truth. No other woman in here can hold a candle to you, Miss Young. Except maybe Sophie, but only because of those sexy shoes she wears. Men are suckers for sexy shoes,” I admit.

  “You don’t mean that.”

  Is she kidding me?

  Elle is stunning. She has shiny black hair that hangs down the middle of her back, a gorgeous smile, and a dimple that peeks out every time she graces us with it. Her legs go on for days, and those eyes …

  I lean in close and look in her beautiful, big brown eyes.

  “One thing to know about me, I don’t throw compliments around just to hear myself talk, and I do not say things I don’t mean. I do think Sophie’s shoes are sexy as hell. I would slap my grandma for Doreen’s pot roast. I know Myer is the best horseman in the county. I am afraid of Dallas’s right hook. And your backside looks amazing in those jeans. Your front side sure isn’t hard to look at either.”

  Where did that come from?

  She lets out a small gasp at my declaration.

  I see Sonia approaching with a few glasses teetering in her hands, so I quickly move back and stand to help her. Elle’s eyes follow me.

  “Thanks,” Sonia says as she settles in at the table.

  Suddenly parched, I drink from the glass in my hand and spit the liquid across the table.

  “Eww, Walker!” Elle squeals.

  They both stand and start shouting at me.

  “What the hell is this, water?” I ask Sonia as I look at the glass in horror.

  “Yes, you asshat, it’s water,” she answers.

  “I can’t believe you did that to me. I’ll be over there with my suspect peach drink.” I grab the glass Elle gave me earlier and escape to the bar.

  The last thing I need is to lose my mind and start hitting on Elowyn Young, for goodness’ sake.

  Elle

  “Grab a coat. Winter blew in overnight,” Sonia shouts from the living room.

  We got in fairly early last night. She stayed here with me, and we watched a Gilmore Girls marathon on Netflix until the wee hours.

  Things sure have changed around here with Braxton’s marriage and Dallas’s pregnancy. We used to be the group that shut the tavern down, and now, we are home and tucked in safe and sound by ten p.m.

  All of us, except for Walker, of course. When we left, he was still at the bar, chatting up a well-endowed blonde. He is such a stinker—a handsome and clever stinker.

  I grab my knit hat and gloves and wrap my matching scarf around my neck as I walk out to the living room to meet Sonia. My aunts have already left for their Tuesday morning ladies’ meeting at the church, so we are going to the diner in town for breakfast.

  I officially start working with Sophie this afternoon. She splits her days between her design studio at home and the office here at the ranch. Luckily for me, the ranch gets the afternoon hours.

  We head out the door, and as soon as the morning air hits us, I feel the chill. Nothing beats late October in the Colorado Mountains. You can actually smell the snow on the horizon. I love snow, and winter is my favorite time of year. A breeze kicks up as we descend the porch steps, and I close my eyes and let it wrap around me.

  I feel you, Momma.

  “Is that Dr. Haralson’s truck?” Sonia asks.

  I open my eyes and spot the SUV in the driveway near the barn.

  “I think so. I’ll be right back,” I say as I walk around to the side of the house.

  I see him standing out by the holding pen.

  “Hey, Brandt. I didn’t know you were coming out here today,” I greet as we walk out to the fence.

  “It wasn’t scheduled. One of the cows was acting funny, so Braxton wanted me to come out and have a look at it,” Brandt explains as he loads his equipment back into his bag.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “She had a displaced abomasum.”

  “Oh no. Are you doing surgery?” I ask as Braxton and Walker emerge from the barn.

  Braxton slaps Brandt on the back. “Nope. Doc here had a new way of dealing with a cow’s twisted stomach. What did you call it?” Braxton asks, admiration clear in his voice.

  “Roll and toggle. It’s less invasive,” he answers.

  “Thanks for that, by the way, Brandt. I appreciate the quick fix.”

  Braxton extends his hand, and Brandt shakes it.

  “Glad I could help.”

  Brandt looks back to me. “We still on for tonight?” he asks.

  “We are. I’ll be ready by six,” I confirm.

  “Perfect. See you then,” he says as he kisses my cheek and gets into his truck.

  Braxton walks back into the barn as I watch Brandt’s truck disappear up the drive.

  “So, are you and the doc an item now?”

  I turn to see Walker watching me.

  “We’re”—I hesitate as I search for the right word—“friends.”

  “Friends. Right.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

  “Men and women can’t just be friends, Elle. Either one or the other wishes it were more, or at the very least, one pictures the other naked,” he says as he waggles his eyebrows at me.

  “That’s not true. I have lots of male friends. Silas, Myer, Emmett—” I start.

  He interrupts, “They don’t count. Si and Myer are happily married men, and you are friends with their wives more so than them. Emmett is Doreen’s old man, and he’s old enough to be your grandfather.”

  I put my hands on my hips and give him a slight smile. “What about you and Payne, huh? Do you guys not count either?”

  He gives me a tight grin in return. Then, he briefly turns his head to the barn.

  “Well?” I press.

  “I can’t speak for Payne,” he says as he brings his eyes back to mine.

  “What about you? Aren’t we friends or something?”

  He slightly shakes his head, and then he takes half a step closer to me. “Or something,” he says low.

  I watch his eyes dance as he teases me, and then I blush at the thought of him picturing me naked.

  His grin widens.

  I smack his chest and swat him away. “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop picturing me naked.”

  We hear a horn. I know Sonia saw Brandt drive off, and she’s getting impatient.

  I turn and head to join her.

  “Elle,” Walker calls after me, and I look back at him over my shoulder. “I wasn’t picturing you naked. I was picturing you in those jeans from last night.”

  That makes me smile. And I shake my head at him, dismissing his words before I hop into Sonia’s car and we head into town.

  Sonia’s mom meets us at Faye’s Diner for breakfast, and as our coffee and juice hit the table, I notice Mary Kearny walk in with Melinda, Bryson, and Xander in tow. They sit at a booth across the diner from us. She gets Melinda and Bryson settled on one side, and then she sets Xander down and slides in beside him.

  While she tries to talk to the waitress, Xander stands in the bench seat and starts hopping up to tap the mushroom light fixture that hangs over the center of the table by a chain. The light starts to swing, and Mary tries to get Xander to sit back down. Kim, the waitress, looks a bit nervous as she reaches to still the light. Xander grunts in frustration and begins to jump up and down and pound his fist against the cover as Kim holds it firmly.

  Mary keeps apologizing and asks if they can bring a basket of blue
berry muffins to the table. Kim lets go of the light and walks away. Mary turns and lifts Xander, putting him on his behind in the booth. She tries to get his attention with paper from her purse, but he is mesmerized by the light. Melinda hands her crayons over to her little brother in an effort to help her mother distract him.

  I tell Sonia and her mom to order me a cheese omelet and a couple of cinnamon rolls and excuse myself. I walk over to the family.

  “Good morning, you guys,” I greet as I approach their booth.

  Melinda smiles big at me. “Miss Elle!” she exclaims as she stands and wraps her arms around my waist.

  “It sure is good to see you,” I say as I look over to a frazzled Mary.

  “It’s my birthday,” Melinda exclaims.

  “It is? Well, happy birthday!”

  “Yes, it’s her seventh birthday today, and our attempt to bake a cake last night didn’t go as planned, so she asked if we could get Faye’s chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast instead,” Mary says as she smiles a grateful and apologetic smile at her daughter.

  Xander jumps up again and accidentally kicks the little pot of coffee creamer over. Half-and-half splashes all over the children’s drawings and soaks the table. Mary stands quickly, grabs a handful of napkins, and starts furiously trying to dry the mess before it spills over the sides of the table. Sonia comes running over with napkins and begins to help. The commotion sends Xander into a meltdown, and Mary attempts to soothe him and clean up as Kim makes it back with the basket of muffins.

  “Look, baby, here are your muffins,” she says softly as she attempts to calm him down.

  “It’s okay, Xan. See, yummy,” Bryson says as he grabs one of the muffins and takes a huge bite. Then, he takes another and waves it in his baby brother’s direction.