by Amber Kelly
“She doesn’t get to do much of that since that no-good husband of hers took off. She doesn’t have the luxury of taking Melinda for a mommy-and-me girls’ day or to take Bryson to baseball practice like she used to,” Aunt Doreen adds.
“He left them?” I ask in shock. I don’t understand how men just up and leave their families.
“Yep, Xander’s needs were too much for him. He couldn’t handle it, so he took off. Last I heard, he was in Aurora. His mother is so upset with him. She and his father, Clem, try to help with the kids as much as they are able, but that’s not often. Mary is a single mother. It has to be hard,” Aunt Doreen continues to fill us in.
“The equine therapy is helping him, and I’m going to start seeing him and another autistic child a couple of times a week for occupational therapy. Mary is waiting for her insurance to approve that now. We’ve had to jump through hoops to get him approved for the specialized therapy he needs. It could be extremely beneficial before he enters kindergarten,” Aunt Madeline adds.
“That’s a damn shame. It shouldn’t be so difficult to get your child the help they need. This country needs to do better,” Jefferson says.
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” Aunt Ria agrees.
Poplar Falls is a small town, and I’m sure that specialized care and resources are hard to come by here. Which shouldn’t be the case here or anywhere else. Someone like Mary without any help can’t just relocate to a bigger city. She needs to be here, where she has the support of her extended family and friends. Thank goodness we have Aunt Madeline and her abilities available, but she’s just one person, and Poplar Falls is growing every year. More people are moving in or moving back, and everyone is having babies.
Maybe there is more I can do.
“Aunt Madeline, let me know if I can assist you with those therapies even if you just need an extra set of eyes and hands. I’m willing to do what I can,” I offer.
She smiles at me and nods her head. “Thank you, Elle. I’ll take you up on that when the time comes.”
We finish our meal, chatting about less weighted subjects.
Once the table is cleared and Aunt Doreen starts to pass out coffee and dessert, Walker reminds me of my evening plans.
“Don’t you have a hot date tonight?” he asks as he passes me a cup.
Crap. I completely forgot.
“What hot date?” Braxton asks.
I roll my eyes. “It is not a date. I’m going with Brandt and his mom to the Harvest Festival at the elementary school. He is going to be helping at the petting zoo. She’s got a craft vendor booth, selling these homemade goat-milk bath soaps she makes. She also has pumpkin and cinnamon; they smell amazing. I’m tagging along mostly because I want to eat funnel cake and paint pumpkins,” I tell them.
“That doesn’t sound very romantic,” Braxton comments.
“Are you kidding? Of course it does. What’s more romantic that a fall festival? He can play games and win her prizes, they can ride a Ferris wheel, he can buy her a candy apple, they can paint pumpkins together and hold hands in the corn maze and kiss under the stars,” Sophie says, listing off all the dreamy things.
“You have thought a lot about this. Do I need to take you out there and get you lost in the corn maze?” Braxton says as he leans into her.
“I don’t think the school could afford a Ferris wheel, could it? I don’t remember them having one before,” Aunt Doreen asks.
“No, there is no Ferris wheel and no kissing under the stars. It’s not a date,” I reiterate.
“Maybe it’s not starting out as one, but you never know how it will end,” Emmett says.
I sigh.
“Stop teasing Elle,” she admonishes them. “Honey, you have fun and make sure you bundle up because it’s going to be a cold night,” Aunt Ria says as she pats me on the shoulder.
I look up at her. “Thank you. I will.”
I look over at Walker and stick my tongue out at him. He laughs and tosses a pecan he plucked off his brownie at me.
Asshat.
Elle
“Isn’t he the handsomest?” I ask the little brown-haired boy as he leans over to pet the goat.
“He’s so cool,” he says in wonder.
I look up and see Brandt hand the boy’s father a business card and shake his hand.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Dr. Haralson. I’ll be in touch,” he says as he takes his son by the hand, and then they walk out of the pen.
I pick up one of the baby goats and cradle it in my arms. It bleats as I scratch its belly.
“I think he likes you,” Brandt says.
“Of course he does. I know belly scratches are the way to a man’s heart,” I coo down at the animal.
Brandt grins at me. “I thought that food was the way to a man’s heart?”
“That too,” I say as I smile up at him.
He is so attractive in a clean-cut way. He has a defined jaw and green eyes. His dark hair has streaks of gold. His smile is bright, but it never reaches his eyes. Every once in a while, he lets his guard down, and I get a glimpse of an authentic moment of carefree joy, but it’s rare. There is pain there, something that haunts him. I don’t push though. He’s allowed to have that until he is ready to let it go.
I set the goat back down in the pen with its brothers and sisters and walk out of the gate and to him.
“You hungry?” he asks as I reach him.
I look around the mostly empty barn. The weather seems to have kept the crowd thin tonight.
“Can you leave?”
“Sure. I don’t think we’ll get too many more visitors, and I’m starving,” he says.
“I wouldn’t turn down a funnel cake with powdered sugar and chocolate sauce,” I admit.
He puts his arm around my waist. “Well then, let’s get the lady her cake.”
We walk out onto the lit pathway that is edged with tented vendor tables. He pulls me closer to shield me from the cold. It’s nice.
We get in line at one of the food trucks, and he gets my funnel cake, a couple of corn dogs for himself, and a barbeque sandwich for his mom.
“I hope she isn’t freezing,” I say as we seek out Ms. Haralson.
“I brought the little propane heater and tucked it under her table. Hopefully, it’s been keeping her toasty.”
“Did you guys get much snow in Oregon?”
“Not really. The range got snow, but we lived near the coast. Most of our winter storms were just cold rain.”
“The coast—I bet that was fun in the summer,” I guess.
“Yeah, I used to love the ocean.”
“Used to?”
He looks down at me. “I guess I just needed a change of scenery, you know?”
“Well, you certainly found one. These mountains are gorgeous, but they are a far cry from a sandy beach.”
He walks in silence, looking around, taking in the night. His mind is definitely somewhere else though. I bet whatever is haunting him is still on that beach in Oregon.
We find his mother, Elaine’s table, and we join her to enjoy our carnival snacks. She has almost sold out of her soap supply despite the low attendance.
By the time we finish eating, the snowfall has gotten heavier, and most of the vendors are closing up for the night. We quickly help his mother pack up her supplies, and Brandt loads his truck.
We drop Miss Elaine off at their apartment above his office in town before he takes me home. All in all, it has been a pleasant evening.
During our drive, I use the opportunity to take him in. He is a puzzle. I can see that he wants to make a genuine connection, and he is trying to put himself out there, but he’s holding back. I have to give him credit though; uprooting himself and relocating to Poplar Falls was definitely a brave move. I just don’t know if he is here to start a new adventure or if he is hiding. My guess is that, until he deals with whatever sent him running, he’ll never be able to truly start anew.
“What are you thi
nking about?” he asks as his eyes flit from the road to me.
“Just that I’m grateful we have become friends,” I answer.
“Friends,” he repeats.
“I have a suspicion that a friend is exactly what you need right now,” I confirm.
He nods slowly as he looks ahead. “I’m still healing from something, and I’m not quite there yet. I wish I were. You’re amazing. I enjoy your company, and I think you are beautiful. I’m just not ready for more. I thought I was, but …” he says apologetically.
I reach across the cab and take his hand in mine. “Hey, I understand, and I’m happy to have gained a new friend. You don’t have to explain anything, but just know that if or when you are ever ready to talk to someone, I’m here,” I offer.
He squeezes my hand in appreciation, and he doesn’t let go the rest of the ride to Rustic Peak. I imagine he is drawing strength from my touch.
When we pull into the drive, I see lights on in the barn, and Braxton’s truck is in the drive. It’s late for him to still be at the ranch.
Brandt parks and leaves the truck running as he rounds to open my door.
“Thank you for the fun night and the funnel cake,” I say as I hop down.
He embraces me and holds on for a few long moments. Then, he releases me and kisses my cheek. “Thank you,” he says with a catch in his throat.
Braxton exits the barn and calls out a greeting to us.
Brandt waves as I walk in my brother’s direction, and then he gets in and backs out of the gate.
Braxton gives me a quick hug as I make it to him.
“What are you doing here at this hour?” I ask.
“I got worried that the cattle might require more feed. This snow isn’t letting up like the weatherman predicted. I wanted to make sure they had enough through the night, so I decided to come and drop a few more bales of hay before I turned in.”
That’s my brother. He is always working.
“Did you have fun?” he asks.
“I did. It wasn’t a huge crowd or anything, but I got to play with baby goats and eat a sticky treat, so I call it a success,” I answer.
He looks in the direction of Brandt’s taillights as he drives away. “You know, I wasn’t too keen on you seeing the doc when he first got here, but I like him,” he starts.
“Brax …”
“No, hear me out. I think you guys make a favorable couple. He’s a good man. He’s successful. He cares for his mom, which shows he’s a family man, and I like the idea of you two. I just wanted you to know that.”
“Favorable, huh? I appreciate that, Braxton, but honestly, we are just friends. I don’t think a love connection is going to be made,” I assure him.
“I haven’t scared him off, have I?” he asks.
I burst out laughing. “No, I don’t believe so. Why? Did you try to?”
“Not really, but Sophie scolded me and told me to stop looking at him like I wanted to break his legs. I hadn’t realized I was doing that,” he admits.
“You always do that when I bring a boy around,” I point out.
He frowns. “I do?”
“Yes, starting with Jeremy and every boyfriend since. You’re worse than any of my girlfriends’ fathers.”
He smiles down at me, and then he puts his hand on the back of my head and brings my forehead to rest against his. “I love you, kiddo. It’s my job as your big brother to keep the assholes at bay. In my book, no one will ever be good enough for you.”
“I know, but someday, someone is going to come along, and no matter how hard you try to run him off, he won’t let you,” I whisper.
“I know, and that’s when I will be willing to let you go … but not until then,” he says before he kisses the top of my head and pulls away. “You know, if you give him time, Dr. Haralson might come around,” he says.
I shrug. “Maybe, but I’m in no hurry.”
“That’s my girl.”
We say our good nights, and I head in. The aunts have been waiting up to hear about my night as well. I fill them in.
“Timing is everything,” Aunt Ria says as she hugs me. “Your great love story is waiting for you.”
I know she’s right, and I believe that I’ll know without a doubt when that love story begins.
Then, I head to my room to call Sonia and get to bed.
Walker
I wake up and get dressed. I head to my mother’s house before I start my trek to Rustic Peak. I want to make sure she has everything she needs and to tell her my good news.
When I pull into her driveway, I notice that mail is hanging out of the mailbox. She hasn’t checked it all week.
I grab the stack and put it in the seat of my truck to sort when I get home tonight.
I knock twice before I use my key to enter the house.
It’s a mess. Everything is in disarray. I walk into the kitchen, and I find her sitting at the table, staring off into space.
“Momma?” I call softly because I don’t want to startle her.
She blinks and then looks up at me. It takes a moment, but then she smiles as she realizes I’m there.
“Walker. Hello, honey. Did we have plans today?” she asks, confused.
“No, ma’am. I just wanted to check on my favorite girl before work. Have you had breakfast?”
She looks down at the coffee cup she’s holding and then around the table. “It doesn’t appear that I have,” she says with a question in her voice.
I walk over to the refrigerator and open it. Most of the groceries I brought over last week are still there. She must not have had an appetite this week. Some weeks, she eats them all before I have a chance to replenish them, and other weeks, she barely touches them.
I grab a box of frozen waffles from the freezer and place two in the toaster oven. Then, I take the pre-cooked bacon from the drawer in the fridge and pop it into the microwave.
In a few minutes, I have her plate slid in front of her and butter and syrup on the table. I’m not much of a cook. Momma and Grandma were the cooks in our family, and I just didn’t get passed the talent. I can grill a mean rib eye, but other than that, it’s frozen pizzas and TV dinners if I don’t eat at Rustic Peak.
She absentmindedly eats what’s before her.
“Have you been taking your medications every day?” I ask.
She nods as she chews her food.
I look over to the counter and see that the pillbox is opened to Wednesday, and the contents are gone. That’s good at least.
“What are your plans for today?” I ask her as she eats.
“I’m going to plant some pansies today,” she says.
I look out the glass back door and see the trays of pansies on the screened-in back porch. Dallas’s mother, Dottie, told me she was going to bring them by for Momma this week.
“I don’t think you’re going to be able to do that today. It snowed last night.”
“It did?” she asks, oblivious to the blanket of white right outside the windows.
“It did, but maybe it will melt by the weekend, and I can come help you plant them. I’ll be back after work today to shovel the walkway and drive for you too.”
“Maybe I’ll just do some quilting today, then,” she says as she looks off toward the back door.
“That sounds like a good idea. I’ll bring you some supper when I come back,” I say as I get up and kiss her cheek.
“You have a good day, son,” she says as she pats my cheek.
I check the thermostat on my way out to make sure it is set at a good number to keep her warm.
I stopped bringing firewood to her the day I got a call from one of her neighbors to say the fire alarm was going off at her house. By the time I arrived, he had her outside, and the entire house was full of smoke. She hadn’t opened the flue.
This promotion couldn’t have come at a better time. I know I need to hire a caregiver for her, someone to check in on her once or twice a day at least, but until now, it was all
I could afford to keep her bills and mine paid. Dad hadn’t had any life insurance when he passed, and the bastard had drunk away every penny they had before then.
I make my way to work, determined to do the best damn job I can so Jefferson and Pop can trust they made the right decision by putting their faith in me. I have to get my shit together. I won’t let them down. I can’t afford to.
When I walk into the kitchen, everyone is already seated and eating breakfast.
“What are you doing here so early?” Emmett asks with a raised eyebrow as I sit down beside him.
“It’s not early. It’s five a.m. That’s what time I’m supposed to be here,” I say in answer.
“Yep, but I’ve never seen you roll in before six,” he muses.
“I’m trying to do better. I actually got up when my alarm went off this morning instead of hitting snooze ten times,” I say as I load my plate with scrambled eggs.
They always give me leeway. Not only because they know I drink too much and stay out too late, but also because they know I try to stop by Mom’s every morning I can, and I never know what I’ll find or what I’ll need to do once I’m there.
He gives me an impressed nod, and we finish our breakfast in silence before heading out to work.
“We need to clear the drive and walkways first. I have bags of salt in the barn. Then, we can ride out and check the herds and make sure they made it fine in the weather last night. I want to get a good head count too. Make sure none wandered off on their own in the snow,” Braxton says, giving me the day’s rundown as we glove up and cut out to get started.
I grab shovels and the snowblowers from the tool shed while he gathers the bags of salt. I make it back to the front of the house and drop the equipment just as the door flies open, and Elle comes bursting out onto the porch.
“Careful,” I start.
But before I get the sentence out, her boot hits an icy patch, and she loses her footing and begins sliding toward the steps. I take a few quick paces to get to her and catch her as she pummels face-first toward the snow-covered ground.
