Fragile Hearts (Poplar Falls Book 4)

by Amber Kelly

  “Did you tell her I was going to be here? I don’t think she’s my biggest fan. I’m working on her though. She’ll fall for my charm eventually. They always do.” Walker grins at him.

  “Yep, she knows, and apparently, I have to bunk with you tonight because she doesn’t want me coming in late,” he tells him.

  “My couch has your name all over it,” Walker offers.

  “You should talk to Mom and Dad about renting Dallas’s old place. It’s just sitting there, vacant, since she and Beau moved into Myer’s cabin,” Payne tells him.

  “Really? That’d be awesome. It’s so close to Stoney Ridge,” Foster agrees.

  “Yes! That means, you can drive me around more often,” Bellamy adds before reaching over and grabbing one of Walker’s shots.

  “Hey, that was mine, woman,” Walker complains.

  “Oh, sorry. I meant to grab this one,” she says as she snatches another one and downs it.

  “Dammit, we are going to have to deal with sloppy females tonight, fellas,” Walker says as he shakes his head at her, but it’s obvious he doesn’t mind the least bit.

  The band finally gets set up, and we order food as they begin their first set. They are good. A Southern rock sound, melding country and old classic rock ’n’ roll, and they are a crowd-pleaser.

  Bellamy and I switch seats, so she and the girls can chat over the music, and I overhear her filling them in on her disappointment with the Denver job being taken by that asshat she used to date. They are adequately outraged and keep ordering rounds of drinks to medicate their friend’s pain.

  “I didn’t like him. There was just something about him,” Sonia confesses.

  “Liar! You told me you liked him a lot,” Bellamy accuses.

  “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings and ruin your celebratory weekend. But you were obviously way too good for him. He was a tad skinny, and his ears were freakishly small,” Sonia declares.

  “She’s right. You are definitely too hot for him,” Elle agrees.

  Bellamy turns to me. “They have to say that because they are my best friends.”

  I lean in and whisper-shout into her ear, “I have no doubt that it’s the absolute truth.”

  Her eyes hit mine, and she smiles.

  The first few chords of “Sweet Home Alabama” drift through the air, and Walker and Payne look at each other.

  “Uh-oh, here we go,” Payne says just as an inebriated Sonia throws her hands in the air.

  “I love this song! You want to dance?” she asks a startled Foster.

  He downs the rest of his beer and sets the bottle on the table. “Um, yes, I’d love to,” he says.

  He takes her hand, and she leads him out to the floor.

  “What about you, Doc? Feel like cutting a rug with me?” Bellamy asks.

  “I’m not much of a dancer,” I tell her as she grabs my arm.

  “Then, let me lead,” she suggests.

  “I can do that,” I relent and follow her out on the dance floor.

  “You’re such a liar. You’re a great dancer,” she exclaims as I spin her around in a country two-step, tearing up the floor.

  “I guess I can make do,” I admit as I pull her in close.

  “You are full of surprises, Dr. Haralson. If you aren’t careful, I’m going to unlock all your mysteries,” she warns.

  “I just might let you,” I whisper into her ear.

  She grins at me before Elle grabs my hand and pulls us over toward her and Walker as another song begins. We laugh and dance until we are all covered in sweat, and the band takes a break.

  Bellamy and her friends are so carefree, and being with them makes me feel the same.

  If only it were that simple.

  Sonia and Elle head to the ladies’ room, and the rest of us go back to the table to order another round.

  “I don’t know what those first two things you did wrong today were exactly, but I know what that third one is,” Walker goads Foster as we take our seats.

  “It was just two friends dancing, man,” Foster defends as his eyes follow Sonia and Elle.

  “Maybe, but I’ve seen the way you watch her.”

  “So, she’s beautiful. I know she’s married and unavailable. Doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to appreciate the beauty,” he grumbles.

  “She is, and of course you are,” Bellamy tells him.

  “Too bad you weren’t single when she was,” Walker adds.

  “Yeah, too bad,” Foster mumbles more to himself than to us.

  When they return from the restroom, Sonia glances Foster’s way, and a blush runs up her neck. I have a feeling the discussion in the ladies’ room was much the same as the one here at the table.

  “If you guys get loud, we might be able to convince Walker Reid to play a few with us. Whatcha think, Poplar Falls?” The lead singer makes the announcement from the stage, and a loud cheer rises from the crowd.

  Walker jogs over, and one of the guys hands him a guitar. He swings it over his shoulder before the singer looks back at him.

  “Get your ass up here, man. We want to hear that angelic voice of yours on this next one.”

  The band cues up Guns N’ Roses’ “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” and when Walker’s voice hits the crowd, it sends a shock wave through the room.

  “Damn, that boy is good,” Payne praises.

  “He sure is,” Elle swoons.

  Bellamy sighs as she lays her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes.

  I like the feel of her curled into me. I like the feel of enjoying a night out with friends.

  Content. That’s what this is.

  Brandt

  We close down the bar, pay our tabs, and wrangle the girls out to the parking lot. They are swaying and clinging to each other as they sing off-key. Walker tries to gently untangle their limbs, but Elle pulls them in tighter.

  “I love you guys. Don’t you worry about that SOB from Ohio, Bells. We’ll find you a real man,” she declares.

  “Yeah,” Sonia agrees as she stumbles, and Foster reaches out to keep her from falling on her ass. “Oops.” She giggles.

  A black sedan pulls in, and she straightens herself.

  “That’s my ride,” she slurs as she breaks off and makes her way toward the vehicle, listing sideways.

  “Are you kidding me?” Walker mumbles as he catches up to her and guides her to the passenger door. He opens it and helps her inside. He buckles her in as she waves and blows kisses back to the girls.

  Once she is in and the door closes behind her, the car peels off in a cloud of dust.

  Walker throws his hand in the air. “You’re welcome for helping your wife into the car, douche bag,” he calls after the taillights.

  Elle and Bellamy are still holding on to each other with Foster keeping them steady.

  “Come on, baby. Let’s get you home.” Walker beckons to Elle.

  “I guess that means you’re on my couch tonight, honey,” Payne says as he slaps Foster’s back.

  “I expect breakfast in the morning, dear,” Foster quips.

  “Of course. I’m a gentleman.”

  “I have to drop Bellamy off, and I’ll be right behind you,” he tells Payne.

  “I’ll take her,” I offer.

  She looks up at me.

  “I mean, it’s on the way to town. That way, you don’t have to backtrack,” I clarify.

  “It’s okay by me if it’s okay with you, Bells.” Foster puts the ball in her court.

  “Works for me,” she says before taking off for my SUV.

  “Glad you came out tonight, Doc,” Payne says before offering me his hand.

  I shake it and then Foster’s.

  “Yeah, you should come out with us more often,” Foster agrees.

  “I’ll do that,” I tell them.

  Walker shouts his good-bye from his truck, and I join Bellamy in mine.

  She’s kicked her boots to the floorboard, and her feet are on the dash while she is focused on th
e radio. She has one eye closed and her tongue out in concentration as she turns all the knobs.

  “It works better once I start the engine,” I tease her, and she looks up.

  “That’s what the problem is,” she says in exasperation.

  “Yep,” I say as I turn the key, and the music starts blaring at us.

  She giggles as I turn the volume to an enjoyable level.

  “You’re an adorable drunk,” I tell her.

  “You’re an adorable sober, Doc,” she says on a hiccup. “I have a great idea. Let’s get doughnuts,” she blurts out.

  “Doughnuts? It’s two in the morning. I don’t think there are any doughnut shops open around here at this hour,” I tell her, and her face falls.

  I lean in and whisper, “Tell you what.”

  She focuses her eyes on me and leans in too.

  “I promise to have some doughnuts for you at the office in the morning.”

  “Thank you,” she coos before her eyes widen. “Oh my goodness! I have to work in the morning. And my boss knows I’ve been out late, drinking!”

  “I think he’ll give you a pass this time.”

  “Whew, thank goodness. If I was still on ranch duty, Pop would probably make me sling manure till I puked.”

  That makes me bark out a laugh.

  “Let’s get you home, so you can sleep it off before it’s time to clock in.”

  “Okay,” she says before a yawn escapes, and she closes her eyes.

  By the time we make it to Stoney Ridge, she is fast asleep.

  I slowly pull up the drive and leave the engine running as I round the front of the truck and open her door. I try to wake her, but she mumbles something incoherent and pulls her legs into a ball under her.

  I wrap an arm under her and gently lift her, and she sighs and leans into me. I move her to get a better grip around her waist and feed my other arm under her legs, lifting her from the seat. The front porch light blinks on, and Winston Wilson steps out. He stands and waits as I carefully make my way to him while holding a sleeping Bellamy close to my chest.

  “I’m sorry we woke you,” I apologize as I climb the steps.

  “You didn’t. It’s the darnedest thing. I know she’s grown, but if we expect her home, I can’t fall off until I know she’s tucked safely in her bed,” he says as we make it to him, and he opens his arms to take her weight from me.

  She stirs as I transfer her to her father’s embrace.

  “Poppy,” she mutters, “I want doughnuts.”

  He laughs quietly as her eyes drift back closed, and her breath evens out.

  “She would randomly ask for doughnuts when she was little. At night before bed, during her riding lessons, at church while the reverend was in the middle of his sermon. Silly baby. She’ll always be my little girl—whether she’s twenty-five, thirty-five, or even when she’s sixty-five. I’ll worry, and I’ll carry her for as long as I’m able. Or until the Lord sends someone else to do the job for me,” he says as he looks adoringly at her, curled in his arms.

  A parent’s love is powerful.

  “I hate that we kept you up,” I tell him.

  “I don’t mind at all, son. I’m glad she had a good night. Her mother tells me it’s been a rough week for her.”

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  “Thank you for making sure she got home safe.”

  “My pleasure,” I reply as I smile down at her.

  She looks like an angel in her daddy’s arms.

  He clears his throat.

  “Oh, um, I’ll get her boots. I’ll be right back.”

  I turn and hurry to the Rover. I pluck her discarded boots from the floorboard and take them back. Winston has already carried Bellamy in and made his way back to the door. I hand him her shoes.

  “Good night, Doc. We’ll see you tomorrow.” He bids me farewell, and I make my way home.

  It was a fun night. I can’t remember the last time I actually went out and enjoyed myself so much.

  When I make it to my apartment, Lou-Lou greets me at the door. I walk her, and then I take a quick shower before settling in.

  I fall right off to sleep and have a dreamless reprieve until the alarm starts blaring at eight a.m.

  Five uninterrupted hours of rest. I can’t remember the last time that happened either.

  I rush over to Bountiful Harvest and pick up an assortment of doughnuts before Bellamy arrives at the office.

  Her face lights up when she enters the break room to start the coffee and finds them sitting beside a full pot.

  Seeing her delight as she takes a bite of the powdered-sugar confection makes the rush this morning completely worth it.

  She is radiant in her pantsuit and heels. You’d never guess she was three sheets to the wind only a few hours ago.

  “We have a light schedule today, Doc,” she says around a bite.

  I reach out and wipe sugar from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes soften at my touch, and I quickly pull my hand back before I absentmindedly lick the sugar from my thumb. Then, her eyes widen.

  I clear my throat. “I, um, I scheduled us light today on purpose. It’s Friday, and the new granite is being delivered to the house tomorrow, so I want to get over there and knock out all of the old cabinets and counters,” I begin to babble.

  She claps and does a little hop on her heels. “Oh, does that mean I get to help?” she asks hopefully.

  I look down the length of her. “You aren’t exactly dressed for demolition,” I observe.

  “I’ll call Momma and ask her to drop some jeans by for me. Please?” she begs.

  “Sure. Four hands are better than two” I give in.

  “Yes!”

  The bell over the door chimes, signaling the beginning of our day.

  “Thank you for the doughnuts, Doc,” she says as she scoots past me and sashays out to greet our first client.

  “You are very welcome, Miss Wilson,” I mumble to myself.

  Bellamy

  We work steadily all morning, seeing patients, and I assist Brandt in several procedures. He is thorough and teaches me proper techniques as we vaccinate, stitch, swab, X-ray, and cast the pups, kitties, and even an ornery rooster that came through the door. He is so good with not only the animals, but also with their owners. Kind, informative, comforting, and patient with all their concerns and questions.

  During a short break between clients, I step out to take a walk and decide to finally accept Derrick’s call when his name pops up on my phone screen.

  “Bellamy,” he breathes in relief.

  “Hey, Derrick.”

  It’s all I say, and the silence lingers between us as he works up the courage to say his piece.

  “I’m sorry,” he starts.

  “You should be,” I interrupt.

  “I hope that you’ve had a few days to think things over and you’re able to see that this is a good thing for us.”

  Did he just say that?

  “Really, Derrick? You know, I thought that maybe you had a few days to think things over and were calling to be contrite and offer me a real apology or maybe retract your acceptance of the job.”

  “Why would I do that? It’s the perfect opportunity for me to land in the same city you are so hell-bent on living in. I thought this was something we would celebrate. Once I’m in, I can find you a spot with ease. We both win,” he says, and I catch the irritation in his voice.

  “You cannot honestly tell me you thought I’d be celebrating you stealing the position I wanted. That I’d worked so hard to get. No one is that oblivious,” I accuse.

  “Give me six months. I’ll apply for the director position when Singh retires, and I’ll give you the damn job,” he bites out.

  The arrogance. Has he always been this cocky, or was I the oblivious one?

  “You know what? You do whatever you want. I don’t care, but I’ll get my own job, thank you, and my own apartment, and I’ll live my own life. Enjoy yours!”

  I hit the En
d Call button. Then, I immediately go to my Contacts list and scroll down to block his number.

  When I make it back to the office, I stomp in past Brandt and sit behind the desk. I start typing the notes from the last patient into the computer.

  He watches me closely and then speaks, “Our one o’clock called and canceled. You want to get closed up and get out of here?”

  I hit Save and look up. I meet his eyes before clicking the computer screen off in the affirmative. “Let’s go.”

  I pull the safety goggles over my eyes. I attempt to raise the sledgehammer over my head to rain my pent-up fury down on the cabinets hanging above the sink when a firm hand grabs the handle and tugs it from my grip.

  “Hey, I was about to bust some shit up,” I exclaim as relief crawls up the back of my arms when the weight of the massive tool falls from my grasp.

  “Yeah, you were about to bust open your own head with this thing,” he says, trying to stifle a laugh.

  I cock a hip, place my hand on it, and glare at him. “I’ll have you know that I’m stronger than I look. I was raised on a ranch, and I can sling hay bales with the best of them,” I inform him with more than a hint of attitude.

  “I have no doubt,” he responds, “but how about you use this one and let me handle the beast?”

  I stare at the small hammer he has extended toward me and scowl.

  “It’ll still do some damage, trust me. Please, for the sake of my ego,” he urges as he shakes the pitiful gadget at me.

  I give in on a sigh. “Oh, all right. I wouldn’t want your manhood to take a hit.”

  I snatch the hammer from his grip and turn to start pounding at the tacky laminate countertop. The snap and pop of the flimsy surface satisfies my need to destroy something. Or more like someone. I picture Derrick’s placating face as I rip through the wood like butter.

  I’m startled when a boom from across the room sends slivers of splintered wood flying past me. Brandt has the sledgehammer hoisted above him and slams it into a cabinet, knocking it from its mounting in one fell swoop.

  I guess he has a few demons to exorcise himself.