Wicked Hearts (Poplar Falls Book 3)

by Amber Kelly

  “We’re still young. We have time to figure all this happily ever after stuff out. For now, let’s just enjoy being carefree and single,” I declare.

  “Amen to that!” she agrees.

  Walker

  “Look what the cat dragged in. Who is that sexy redhead?” Payne asks as Sonia’s car pulls in the drive, and the girls hop out and walk our way.

  “Just trying something new. I’m trying to finally end the great debate of whether blondes or redheads have more fun. You like it?” Charlotte asks as she runs her fingers through her fiery-red locks.

  “I do. Of course, I liked the blonde too. You’re gorgeous and fun either way,” he says as he wraps an arm around her neck and pulls her in.

  “Good answer,” she praises.

  He gives the vague explanation, “I have a sister. I speak female.”

  The door to the office opens, and Sophie comes running down the steps.

  “Easy,” Braxton barks.

  Sophie cuts her eyes to him and huffs before slowing her pace the last few steps.

  He’s been an overprotective asshat as of late. Probably because we are all exhausted and sleep-deprived, but the hard work has paid off. The new pasture is fenced and ready to be populated.

  Elle walks over to us and hugs Braxton before giving me an awkward, “Hi.”

  I shouldn’t have teased her earlier. I couldn’t help myself when I saw her sitting on the porch. She looked beautiful, and I hated the fact that she was going to lunch with someone, whom I assumed was Doc. I don’t know where the sudden unease over her spending time with a guy is coming from. Why should I care? But I do. I probably need to get laid. It’s been a while. I’ve been too damn tired and preoccupied to go out much. This weekend out of town is just what I need. What we all need.

  “So, are we going out tonight or what?” Charlotte asks.

  “Nope. We all need to rest and pack. We are getting on the road to Fort Collins bright and early in the morning. Everybody, meet here at five a.m. We’ll eat and load up,” Braxton answers for us all.

  “Boo, you’re a party pooper,” Charlotte mumbles.

  Braxton ignores her and slaps my chest. “Can you make it four thirty? We’ll get the fifth-wheel and one of the sixteen-foot utility trailers hitched up to your truck and mine. Jefferson’s truck will pull the cattle pot home if we get it.”

  “I’ll be here,” I assure him.

  “Thanks, man. Now, go eat and get some rest. You worked your ass off out there,” he says before guiding Sophie inside.

  We all sit down to a feast. Doreen and Ria went all out. Ribs, roasted potatoes, corn on the cob, green beans, biscuits, and peach cobbler.

  “Pop decided to join us this weekend. You got enough rooms at that swanky hotel?” Jefferson asks Sophie.

  “I booked seven. So, he can stay with you and Emmett. It’s a double queen room, and I can have a cot put in if two of you guys don’t want to share a bed,” she says.

  “Cot,” is his masculine one-worded answer.

  “What about the other six rooms? Who’s sleeping where?” Charlotte asks.

  “Me and Braxton, Myer and Dallas, you and Elle. Then, Walker, Payne, and Foster are in their own rooms,” she says like she’s mentally ticking off the list.

  “Why do the guys get rooms to themselves and we don’t?” Charlotte asks.

  “Well, Elle had one to herself, too, before you invited yourself along.” Sophie shrugs.

  “Oh, right. I did do that,” Charlotte admits.

  “You can bunk with me, Pop,” I offer.

  The old man gives me a mischievous grin. “I don’t want to cramp your style, son. Lots of beautiful cowgirls strolling around those auction houses, if my memory serves me correctly,” he says with a wink.

  “Good call, Pop,” Payne speaks up.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I agree.

  “Well, what if Elle or I want to entertain one of the handsome cowboys at this thingamajig?” Charlotte protests.

  All their eyes cut to her.

  “What? It’s okay for these two but not us?” She points between Walker and Payne.

  “Careful how you answer that one, dear,” Madeline says to Jefferson.

  He just keeps shoveling in his dinner.

  “Well?” Charlotte persists.

  “If you girls find someone who would like to spend the evening with you—” Jefferson begins.

  “Stop,” Braxton halts him mid-sentence.

  “No, let him finish,” Sophie encourages.

  “How about we just make this weekend about the ranch and hanging out together and not swiping left or right—or whatever the hell you young people do and call it courting nowadays?” Jefferson grumbles.

  “Such a double standard,” Charlotte mumbles under her breath, and Jefferson cuts his eyes to her. “Just sayin’,” she says before dropping the subject altogether.

  Well, we seem to be off to a good start already. This should be an interesting trip.

  We say our good-byes after clearing the table.

  On my way home, I stop in to check on Mom.

  “Walker, it’s so good to see you,” she says as I come in the front door.

  She is dressed, and her hair is down and fixed.

  “Hey, Momma. Don’t you look nice?” I tell her.

  She touches her hair and smiles. “Yes, well, I have a new friend, Sonia. She comes by when she has free time, and we watch my soap operas together. Today, I rode along with her when she went to see Miss Janelle down at the salon, and they talked me into a cut, color, and style. It’s been ages since I’ve had anything done.” She beams.

  “She did a great job. You look pretty as a picture,” I praise. “I brought you some dinner.” I raise the bag of leftovers in my hand.

  She stands and takes it. “Thank you, but I’ve already had dinner. I made pork chop casserole today. I’ll just put this in the fridge for later,” she says as she takes the bag.

  She cooked?

  She used to cook all the time, and pork chop casserole is my favorite. But it’s been years since she made anything that took more effort than boiling water.

  “Pork chop casserole you say?” I ask as I follow her into the kitchen.

  “I did, and I saved you a plate. It’s on the stove.”

  I walk over, lift the tin foil from the plate, and inhale. It smells like my childhood.

  “I’ve already eaten tonight, but I’ll take this home with me and have it for breakfast.”

  “Here, you can use this bag.” She hands me the bag she just removed plates from. “You look tired, son. Go on home and get some rest. I’m fine. I’m heading to bed after the news,” she says as she pats my face.

  I kiss her cheek. “Yes, ma’am. I’m going out of town for a few days, but you can call me if you need me, and I’ll be by to visit on Monday.”

  “You be safe and have a wonderful time.”

  I give her one last kiss before leaving.

  Hiring Sonia is the best damn thing I’ve ever done. Mom has a light in her eyes again. One I thought was long extinguished.

  Elle

  After the morning rush and chaos of everyone packing, loading trucks, eating breakfast, and grabbing to-go coffees, we finally settled into our caravan and headed out to Fort Collins. Only a tad later than Braxton had wanted to leave but still with plenty of time to get checked in at our hotel and make it to the first round of auctions this afternoon.

  If we are lucky, we’ll get everything we need today at the seed stock sale and fall female cattle sales. Pop, Uncle Jeff, and Braxton are very thorough, and they know exactly what they want as far as breed, pedigree, color, frame size, and uniformity for the replacement herd, so it’s just a matter of waiting for the right lot to hit the sale ring and come in with a strong bid and not let up. Rustic Peak has developed a high level of trust in the market, so anything less than the breed they are after will not do. Sophie has given them a lot of budget wiggle room, but the second
day of sales will all depend on how they make out on day one.

  They hope to acquire at least a hundred cows, several of those heifers and heiferettes, and two bulls.

  If they achieve that today, then tomorrow will consist of the equipment auctions. Sophie wants the used cattle pot, and Uncle Jefferson has decided he wants a new baler. Neither is a fan of consignment purchases. Myer is also hoping to score a few items for Stoney Ridge.

  “So, how much auctioning and how much playing are we talking?” Charlotte asks.

  All of us girls decided to ride together, so we’re in Myer’s truck.

  “Most of today and tomorrow, we will be at the sale barn. There are three auctions Pop and Uncle Jefferson want to attend. First will be the bred cow sale, then the special all-breed bull auction, and the heiferette auction is last,” I answer.

  “How long will those take?” she asks.

  “Pretty much all day. They’ll start around noon, and they’ll have the cows pinned in lots. When the lot is up, they run them into the sale ring, and the auctioneer will start bidding. It goes fast from there. You won’t even be able to keep up with the bids or who’s bidding. Just watch the electronic signs up ahead. They’ll keep going till the last lot is sold; that’s usually somewhere around six or seven p.m. Tomorrow will be the same but with equipment, and Sunday will be all about the loadout,” I explain.

  “You sure know a lot about this stuff,” Sophie muses.

  “I practically cut my teeth, sitting on Pop’s knee in a sale barn. I love the auctions,” I say.

  “Will we get to have any fun?” Charlotte asks.

  “It will be full days, but hopefully, we’ll still get time to blow off steam together in the evenings,” Sophie answers. “I asked the concierge at The Elizabeth, and she said they opened a new country dance bar called The Dusty Boot a couple of miles away. Most of the people who come in for the auction end up there. She said they have good music and cocktails.”

  “And don’t forget about all the hotel sex,” Dallas chimes in from the front seat.

  “Right. Can’t forget that.”

  All three of them sigh.

  “No hotel sex in our room,” I say, laying the rule down for Charlotte.

  “Don’t worry. Other than my clothes, you’ll have that room to yourself,” she assures me.

  “I don’t know why you are even pretending to stay with Elle instead of my brother.” Dallas adds, “Nobody thinks for a minute that you’re sleeping anywhere but his room.”

  Charlotte shrugs. “I wanted to at least give the illusion of propriety with Jefferson and Pop coming along.”

  “I’m sure they have no idea and would be scandalized if they knew you were sharing a room with Payne,” Dallas says sarcastically.

  “Poor Elle. We need to find you a cowboy to have fun with this weekend. I’ll work on that,” Charlotte decides.

  Myer clears his throat. “Ladies, can we refrain from discussing anything that I will have to deny having heard when questioned as a suspect later? I’m a horrible liar. I don’t need to know anything about Project Find Elle a Hook-Up. Please,” he pleads.

  “Oh, please. We aren’t trying to pawn her off on anyone seedy, jeez. But there is nothing wrong with dancing with a handsome stranger and maybe letting him round first base in a dark corner,” Charlotte says a she waggles her eyebrows at me.

  Day one was a success. Pop and Jefferson were on their best game. They came in early with their bids and double-teamed the competition. We were out of the sale barn and headed to supper before five, which gave us plenty of time to get back to the hotel, change into our dancing clothes, and spruce up.

  Now, it’s a quarter after seven, and we are headed to The Dusty Boot.

  Charlotte went all out with a form-fitted leopard-print dress with a wraparound brown leather belt and matching cowgirl boots. She looks amazing. I didn’t bring a single thing that nice with me, so I settled for a pair of ripped jeans, a low-cut brown tank that says Jolene, you can have him, my studded high-heeled boots, and a brown suede jacket. I did let Charlotte do my makeup and curl my long, dark hair with a wand. I even let her talk me into bright red lipstick, which she said made my lips pop.

  I feel a little wicked as we make our way down to meet everyone in the lobby.

  “The boys are going to be circling you tonight. Let’s hope big brother doesn’t have an aneurysm,” Charlotte says as we take the elevator down.

  When we get to the door, Payne does a double take. Then, he whistles low. “You two look like my night’s about to take a bad turn,” he says.

  “Or a very, very good one, cowboy,” Charlotte says before grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss.

  “Screw it. I’m down for whatever the night brings,” he says as he wraps an arm around each of us and leads us to the parking lot where the rest are waiting for us by the trucks.

  “Here comes trouble,” Walker says as we approach.

  “Who are you calling trouble?” Charlotte asks.

  “I know a woman up to no good when I see one, sweetheart,” he answers as he opens the door to his truck for us.

  He offers his hand to help us up as Payne walks to the passenger side. Braxton, Sophie, Myer, and Dallas are all in Brax’s truck.

  As I slide past him and into the seat, he says, “Little Elle is all grown up,” under his breath. Then, he looks back at the both of us before he gets in. “Try not to get any of us in a bar fight tonight. Jefferson will be in a hell of an ornery mood if he has to come bail us out of jail.”

  “Does Jefferson have a mood other than ornery?” Charlotte asks me.

  “You’ve never seen him ornery,” I reply.

  “You mean, that’s what he’s like when he is in a good mood?”

  I laugh.

  Walker

  We walk into the bar, and it’s like walking into a citified honky-tonk. The dance floor is a sea of never-used-on-a-real-ranch cowboy hats and packed with couples line-dancing. A fake bull is tucked in the corner. Standing in a long line, half-dressed, inebriated females await their turn to get a seductive photo of themselves on the mechanical beast for their Instagram accounts—right before the two-second ride ends with them tumbling headfirst onto the thickly padded ring. Every horny, drunk male under the age of twenty-five waits nearby for a glimpse up their shirts or skirts.

  We find a table off to the side and sit tight for a waitress.

  The place is packed wall to wall with bodies. Not an empty seat in the house.

  “At this rate, we’ll never get drinks, and I’m going to need a few. I’ll just order at the bar for us,” I tell my friends as I stand.

  Myer stands, too, and everyone shouts out their order.

  “What about you, Sophie? What’s your poison tonight?” I ask.

  She thinks for a moment and then replies, “Just cranberry juice with a lime. I don’t want Dallas to be sober alone tonight, so I’ll drink mocktails with her.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine,” Dallas tells her.

  “I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Besides, you know I’m more of a wine girl, and I doubt this place serves cabernet,” Sophie says with a grimace.

  We walk up to the bar, and the bartender with bleached-white hair, a nose ring, and too much eye makeup, wearing a teeny-tiny tank top, asks if we want the night’s shot special.

  “What’s that, sweetheart?” I ask as I eye the double-D cups she obviously wants to show off.

  “It’s called the Kool-Aid shooter. It’s Midori, amaretto, vodka, and grape juice. They are two bucks a pop tonight,” she explains.

  I look over at Myer in disgust. “What are we, twelve?” I ask him, and he shakes his head.

  I turn back to the bartender and order, “We’ll take four bottles of Big Red IPA, two Evan Williams Honey with a splash of ginger, and two cranberry juices straight up with a squeeze of lime.”

  “Coming right up, handsome,” she says before taking my card from my fingertips an
d walking to the register.

  “This place is more amusement park than bar,” I gripe as we wait for our drinks.

  “Yeah, but the girls seem to like it,” Myer says as he nods out toward the dance floor.

  Sophie, Dallas, Charlotte, and Elle are all twirling each other around and giggling to some god-awful Florida Georgia Line song. None of them know the steps to whatever synchronized nonsense the other folks are doing, but they don’t give a shit. They just keep spinning around, making it up as they go along, and bumping into the puppets.

  Braxton and Payne are standing guard at the side of the dance floor, making sure all the cowboy wannabes keep their hands to themselves as the girls let loose and enjoy themselves.

  “As long as they are together, those women can have a good time anywhere,” I muse.

  “That’s the truth,” he agrees.

  I bring two fingers to my mouth and whistle across the loud room to get Payne’s attention. I motion for him to come help us carry the bottles and glasses back to our table.

  We settle in and keep the spot occupied while the girls move back and forth from us to the dance floor all night.

  Charlotte drags Payne out there a time or two, so she can grind her ass on him through a song, and Dallas has to sit a few out and rest in Myer’s lap.

  A table of beauties is to my back, and before I know it, they are all turned and talking to Myer and me.

  I buy their table a round, and the redhead scoots her chair closer to mine. We chat a while, and I learn they are in town, celebrating one of their birthdays.

  I try to give her my full attention, but I keep one eye on Elle’s sweaty body as she gets lost in the music, song after shitty song. She lets a few guys spin her around during the slow songs, but then she ventures back to us and downs her drinks.

  “We are heading back to our hotel soon,” the redhead says as she places her hand on my thigh to get my attention.