Fragile Hearts (Poplar Falls Book 4)

by Amber Kelly

  She walks off, and Walker takes her vacated seat beside Elle.

  “She really wants Ricky to become friends with you guys,” Elle tells Walker, and he snorts.

  “Not going to happen,” he says.

  “Maybe he’s not that bad once you get to know him better,” I offer.

  “Oh, they’ve tried. I convinced Walker to take him out for a few beers about a month after their wedding while Sonia and I had a girls’ night,” Elle says.

  “I’m never doing that again, and no amount of sexual persuasion is going to change my mind this time,” Walker insists as he cuts his eyes to Elle.

  She gives him a challenge accepted grin.

  “I mean it, woman!”

  “That bad, huh?” I ask.

  “The guy’s an asshole. All he did was complain about everything. The bar was too loud. The beers were lukewarm. The wings were too expensive,” he starts, ticking off Ricky’s offenses.

  “Sounds like a fun date,” Braxton says as he sits across from us.

  “You’re much more my type,” Walker says as he winks at him and blows him a kiss.

  “Aw,” Brax responds with a hand to his heart.

  “Gross. Your bromance is falling out; you’d better tuck that back in,” I rag them.

  Walker chucks a cupcake topper at me before he continues, “Honestly, I have no idea what Sonia was thinking, marrying that guy. He spent the rest of the night getting hammered on those lukewarm beers and pawing at every female in the place. I swear, if I hadn’t promised Elle to be on my best behavior, I would have knocked his ass out for touching them without their permission and left him bleeding on the bar floor.”

  “Maybe you should have,” Braxton mumbles under his breath.

  “That would have gone over well, coming home to me and Sonia from your boys’ night out—without her husband,” Elle interjects.

  “She’d be better off if I had,” Walker says tightly.

  “Even if that were true, we have to support her and try our best to get along with him,” I tell them.

  “I’ll be nice when he’s around. I’m just not ever going to be great friends with him,” Walker says.

  Sonia returns, looking dejected. “He’s so tired from working. He’s going to chill, and he said he’ll come with me to meet the baby next weekend or something. But he told me to give everyone his regards and congratulations,” she says, her voice dripping with disappointment.

  “That’s perfect,” I tell her as I pat the chair beside me. “This part is just a whole bunch of boring waiting anyway.”

  “You’re right,” she agrees.

  We all sit there, gabbing and watching television. We get no news for the next three excruciating hours.

  Beau wakes up from the nap he took on his Pop-Pop’s chest and asks if the baby came.

  “Not yet, little man. Hopefully, it won’t be much longer,” his grandfather, Marvin, informs him.

  He sighs heavily.

  “It’s going to be a girl for sure,” Beau mutters.

  “Why do you think that?” Payne asks.

  “Because it’s taking so long. Girls take a long time to get ready to come out,” he says like it makes perfect sense.

  “He’s right,” Walker agrees. “It has to be a girl.”

  A little over an hour later, Myer emerges.

  “It’s a girl,” he confirms as we all get to our feet.

  Congratulations ring out from everyone.

  “Come on, little man. Let’s go meet your baby sister,” Myer says as he opens his arms.

  Beau flies to him, and he scoops him up off the floor. Then, he looks over to me.

  “You and Payne, Marvin and Pop, too, sis. Everyone else can come in a couple of minutes,” he says to me.

  I rise from the chair, move to my big brother, and wrap him in my arms.

  Payne, Dallas’s daddy, and Pop join us, and the six of us head to the room to meet our newest family member.

  When we enter, Dallas is on the bed, holding the tiny bundle in her arms. A content look on her face.

  Myer sets Beau down beside them, and he crawls up to look at the baby snuggled up on his momma’s chest.

  “She’s little,” Beau says as he gets his first glimpse of his new sister.

  “She sure is,” Dallas agrees.

  Beau takes his hand and touches the tiny smattering of hair on her head.

  “She’s soft,” he whispers.

  “She is, and that’s why we have to be very gentle with her,” Dallas says.

  “Can I hold her?” he asks.

  “Scoot up here, against the pillows, and I’ll put her in your lap.”

  Myer protectively proceeds to the side of the bed as Dallas moves to lay the baby across Beau’s lap. She keeps her hand under the baby’s neck, and Myer squats down to a knee and moves in close on the other side.

  Beau looks down at the squirming baby, mesmerized by her. “I’m gonna be the bestest big brother there ever was. I’ll share all my toys, and I’ll teach you how to ride my bicycle, and I’ll save my saddle for you for when you get big like me. I won’t let anybody be mean to you either,” he tells her.

  She coos up at him and opens her eyes for a moment.

  Beau’s face brightens.

  “She heard me,” he says.

  “I’m sure she did, buddy,” Myer responds.

  Dallas sniffles and wipes at her eyes.

  “She likes me, Mommy,” he tells Dallas as he looks up at her.

  “I can see that,” Dallas replies.

  “What’s her name?” he asks.

  Dallas smiles at Myer.

  “I think we decided on Dorothy Faith after my momma, but we’re going to call her Faith,” she tells us.

  “Faith,” Beau repeats reverently.

  He kisses the top of her head.

  “You three, stay right there,” I say as I take my phone from my purse.

  I start snapping a million pictures of the new family.

  Then, Dallas takes the wiggly baby from her brother’s arms and Beau hops down, so the rest of us can get our turns, holding little Faith.

  “Really, Payne?” Dallas says as she reads his shirt.

  He just grins at her, and she shakes her head. Then, he leans down and kisses her forehead.

  “You did good, sis. She’s beautiful.”

  Then, he extends his hand to Myer. “How’s your hand, man? You okay to shake?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Why?” Myer asks as he takes his brother-in-law’s offered hand.

  “Because I played coach last go-around, and she almost crushed mine to dust.”

  “That’s because I wasn’t able to get the epidural last time, and you were getting on my last nerve,” Dallas snaps.

  I take the baby and walk over to the window that overlooks a field full of colorful wildflowers.

  “Hey, Faith. I’m your auntie Bells, and we are going to be great friends. No matter what, I will always have your back, even against your own mommy and daddy, if you need me to. I’ll have the fun house you come to stay at, and you will always be my favorite girl in the whole wide world,” I whisper to my new niece. “Thank you for waiting for me to get home before you came out to play.”

  I kiss the top of her head, and she lets out a small whimper.

  And just like that, I’m in love.

  Myer comes to my side and smiles down at us.

  “So, a baby girl. Sorry, big brother, I know you were hoping for a boy to teach how to ride and throw a football.”

  He shakes his head. “I already have my boy. She’s exactly what I prayed for—a little girl who’s a spitfire like her momma and as strong as all the other women in my life. I’m a blessed man to be surrounded by beautiful females,” he says as he kisses the side of my head.

  We get a few more minutes together before the room is flooded with everyone. Walker and Braxton walk in with their arms full of flowers and stuffed animals, and Sophie heads straight for me with her arms out. I r
elinquish the baby to her.

  “Meet Faith, Auntie Sophie,” I say as I hand her over.

  “Faith. Oh, I love it. You and our Lily Claire are going to be besties,” she tells the baby, and then she bursts into tears.

  Braxton comes and wraps his arm around her shoulders.

  “What’s wrong, Miss Sophie?” Beau asks.

  “She’s just happy, buddy,” Braxton tells him.

  Then, one by one, every woman in the room starts losing their own battle with happy tears.

  Beau looks around in alarm.

  “Women,” Walker says as he scoops Beau up. “They’re all crazy.”

  Beau just nods his head in agreement and giggles.

  “All right, everyone, let’s clear out and let Myer and Dallas and Faith get some rest.” Beverly urges us all to the door.

  “Yes, we can all use a little beauty sleep,” Sophie agrees before handing the baby back off to Dallas.

  “Beauty sleep? Woman, look at how pretty I am. I get any prettier, and no one will be able to stand to look at me!” Walker says as Elle nudges him forward.

  “I already can’t stand to look at you, dipshit!” Charlotte says as she falls in behind them.

  “Night, Dal,” he says as he is shoved out the door.

  “Night, guys.”

  Bellamy

  Momma and I spent Sunday cooking a bunch of meals to freeze and put in Myer and Dallas’s freezer.

  Today, I’m up with the chickens to start work.

  Pop insisted that Myer take the next two weeks off from the ranch to help Dallas at home. So, I’m going to be pitching in as much as possible. I can’t do a lot of the harder work, but I can clean stalls with the best of them. Plus, Momma and I are going to be helping Mrs. Henderson look after Beau when she is at the bakery.

  “I’m here. Where do you guys want me?” I ask as I enter the barn.

  Pop is loading a truck with hay bales as Foster and Truett toss them down from the loft. Foster and Truett have worked at Stoney Ridge for Pop for as long as I can remember. They are my brother’s age and started when they were in high school.

  “If you could feed and water the horses, that’d be a big help,” he says as he lifts another bale and drops it next to the others.

  “Sure thing.” I grab one of the buckets by the sink and start to fill it with fresh water.

  He stops and looks my way. “It’s sure nice to have you home for a while, sweetheart.”

  “It’s good to be home, Pop. Just don’t get used to it.”

  “I won’t; I won’t. But I will enjoy having my whole family together while I can,” he says before shutting the tailgate.

  I smile at him. It’s nice to be home too.

  Foster and Truett descend the ladder and join him.

  “We’re off to fill the feedlots, but hopefully, we’ll be back before Dr. Haralson gets here to check on the mare in the foaling stall. If not, we shouldn’t be far behind,” Pop tells me before they all hop into the truck and drive out of the back of the barn.

  Oh boy, another baby is coming.

  I spend the next couple of hours getting my work done, and once all the horses are fed and watered, I check and pick their hooves before turning them out into the pasture for a little sunshine and exercise.

  As I head to the house for lunch, I see a Range Rover coming down the drive. I stop and wait for it to arrive. It halts, and Brandt Haralson—our new vet in Poplar Falls—emerges. He walks over to help his mother, Miss Elaine, out of the passenger side.

  “Hi, Bellamy.” Miss Elaine waves as she makes her way to me.

  “Hi yourself,” I greet.

  “I decided to ride out with Brandt and visit with your mother while he tends to the birth,” she explains.

  “She’ll love that. In fact, you have perfect timing. She and I are about to have lunch out on the porch. Pop and the boys should be back at any time. You two, come join us until they get here,” I invite.

  “We don’t mean to impose on your lunch,” she starts.

  “Oh, please. Momma cooks enough for an army. She’ll be tickled pink you guys are here,” I say, brushing off her apology.

  We reach the steps just as Momma comes out of the door with a tablecloth in hand.

  “Elaine, how wonderful. You’re just in time for my Brunswick stew and corn bread.” She beams.

  “See, I told you,” I whisper as I nudge her side.

  She joins Momma and I wait for Brandt to make it to us.

  “Hiya, handsome. Come to make me an auntie again this week, I see,” I say as he approaches.

  He smiles, and his green eyes twinkle in the sunlight.

  “Yes, ma’am. How are Dallas and the baby doing, by the way?” he inquires.

  “Wonderful. Little Faith is perfect, and Dallas is a natural at this mommy gig,” I praise.

  “I had no doubt she would be after knowing Beau,” he agrees.

  “Yeah, he’s pretty special. Are you hungry?” I ask.

  “Not at all, but thank you for inviting Mom. If you point me in the direction of the mare, I’ll go ahead and check on her progress.”

  “Just follow me, and I’ll show you,” I say as I gesture toward the barn.

  I call up to tell Momma I’ll be back for lunch, and I usher Brandt to the foaling stall.

  “So, how are you liking Poplar Falls?” I make small talk as we walk.

  Brandt moved here from Oregon to take over the practice from the town’s previous vet last year. Dr. Sherrill had been tending to all the critters in Poplar Falls since before I was born and finally decided to retire at seventy.

  “It’s a good town, full of good people. Mom has made some great friends and seems happy here,” he says in answer.

  I don’t miss how he fails to mention if he is happy.

  “And you?” I push.

  A patient smile forms, and he looks straight ahead as he speaks, “I’m content.”

  Hmm, content. Not exactly happy, but not unhappy.

  I know that he and Elle went out on several dates before she and Walker started their relationship. Perhaps he had hoped that would pan out in the future, but their engagement news squashed that.

  “Well, you never know, Doc. That contentment might turn in to flat-out happiness before you realize it’s happening,” I encourage.

  He cuts his eyes to me. “Maybe,” he says.

  I can’t read him. He’s closed off tighter than a duck’s ass. Which intrigues me, so I keep digging.

  “What’s your story, Doc?”

  “My story?” he asks, confused.

  “Your story. I know you have one. It’s written all over you. Maybe if you get it off your chest, you’ll feel better. I’m no counselor or anything, but I was raised by a bunch of nosy women who always found a way to make me talk. It worked at helping my friends and me with all our teen drama, so I figure there must be something to it,” I explain.

  “Teen drama,” he repeats.

  “Frivolous, I know, but doesn’t discount the benefit of getting things off your chest,” I defend.

  He nods thoughtfully. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He humors me as we approach the barn, and it becomes clear from the sound the mare is making that it’s in distress.

  “She was fine a few minutes ago,” I tell him as we take off at a hurried pace, our conversation lost in the urgency.

  We make it to the barn, and he follows me to the large stall in the back.

  “Stay here,” he commands as he opens the door and enters cautiously.

  “Is she okay?” I ask as I peek over the door.

  The mare is on her side, and she is rolling on the floor of the stall in agony.

  “She’s in full-on labor, and she’s trying to get the foal in position,” he tells me as he opens his messenger bag and pulls out elbow-length medical gloves.

  He quickly rolls his shirtsleeves and gloves up.

  The expectant mother gets to her feet and is obviously in a lot of
pain.

  Over the years, I’ve witnessed a lot of births from horses and cows. Even I know that something is not right at the moment.

  Brandt holds the lead rope and tries to stead the animal so that he can examine her. She won’t settle, so I open the stall and carefully walk in at an angle to let her know I am approaching. I speak softly to her and gently take the rope from his hand.

  “Easy, there. Everything is going to be okay.”

  He gives me an appreciative glance before moving to her hindquarters.

  “Shit,” he mutters, and I know that my assumption was correct.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “The foal is breech,” he answers as the mare bears up.

  “Shh, it’s okay, girl. We are here to help you and your baby.” I try to soothe the momma-to-be.

  “What now?” I ask, doing my best to keep my voice even.

  “I have to attempt to get its hind legs back into the uterus, so I can turn it. If not, we could lose them both,” he says.

  “Oh no. Please, please, please, Lord,” I whisper the plea.

  “Try to keep her calm,” he instructs, and I watch as he goes elbow deep.

  He wrestles with the baby for what seems like hours, but it has to be more like ten to fifteen minutes. I do the best I can to keep the mare steady and calm, but she is clearly in agony.

  “Doc, I don’t know if I can hold on to her much longer,” I confess as my arms grow weak and I start to lose my grip.

  “Hang on a few more minutes, Momma,” he says to the horse.

  Then, he looks over to me and says calmly, “The foal is in now, and I need to get it turned before the compression on the umbilical cord cuts off its oxygen. Move around here slowly. I might need help with pulling the baby out,” he commands, and I do as he said quickly.

  I can see the ripple of power move through his shoulders and across his back, and he uses his entire body to twist the baby as gently as he can.

  “Is it moving?” I ask.

  “Yes, but I have to be careful, so I don’t tear her wall,” he answers.