Knitted Hearts: A Small Town Romance (Poplar Falls Book 6)

by Amber Kelly

  “That’s settled, then. We can all sleep till normal time. Now, let’s eat. We’ll need our strength. I’m sure the ladies are going to have us working our butts off tomorrow—for the Lord, of course,” Marvin says.

  Sonia

  I wake up early Sunday morning and dress quickly in a simple cotton dress with a sweetheart neckline and tapered waist. I weave my hair into a side braid and slip on a pair of brown ballet flats since I’ll likely be standing most of the day.

  Being as it’s one of the rare occasions that Walker will be gracing the church’s doors, he is picking his mother up this morning. It’s a service I usually do for him. It’s not part of my job description as a home health care nurse, but Walker is a friend, and Edith is a sweetheart, so I spend a little more time with her than I do my other patients.

  I pour myself a travel mug of coffee and just get a splash of milk added when I hear the horn coming from outside.

  I hurry down the steps with my mug in hand and out to my stepdad’s waiting SUV.

  “Don’t you look as pretty as a picture,” Don says as I slide into the backseat.

  “Thank you.”

  Momma looks back at me and frowns. “Why didn’t you wear your hair down?” she asks.

  “I figured it’d be easier in a braid if we are going to be out in the breeze all afternoon,” I explain.

  “I like it better down,” she gripes.

  “You see it down all the time,” I respond.

  She fishes around in her purse and pulls out a tube of lipstick. “I bought this for you. I saw it at the pharmacy’s beauty counter and thought the shade would look amazing on you. The rose color will complement your peachy skin.”

  She passes it back to me, and I take it.

  “Thank you, I guess,” I say before dropping it into my bag.

  “Aren’t you going to try it on?” she asks.

  “Right now?”

  “Yes, I want to see it on you,” she insists.

  I hold up my thermos of coffee.

  “Give me that,” she says as she takes it from my hand.

  “Hey,” I protest.

  “You don’t want to have coffee breath all day.”

  “What’s wrong with coffee breath? I like the smell of coffee,” I whine.

  “Not everyone does though. I think I have a breath mint in here somewhere,” she says as she begins to rummage through the center console.

  “Momma! What is with you this morning?” I ask.

  “Nothing.”

  She is definitely acting odd. My eyes meet Don’s in the rearview mirror, and his expression says he hasn’t got a clue.

  She shuts the console and opens the glove compartment.

  “Kathy, I don’t think anyone is going to be complaining of Sonia’s breath at the service.”

  He tries to help, but she continues to forage.

  “Just stop. I’ll try on the lipstick for you if you calm down,” I tell her.

  It must appease her because she closes the door and turns her expectant face to me.

  I take my compact mirror and the tube from my bag and apply a generous coat of the lipstick. She was right. The color is perfect for me.

  “Happy?” I ask as I snap the lid back in place and make a duck face for her.

  “Yes. You look beautiful. Now, stop making that ridiculous face,” she orders before turning back around.

  Don gives me wide eyes in the mirror, and I giggle.

  “I believe I was promised breakfast,” I say as we pass Faye’s Diner.

  “I brought you a country ham, egg, and cheese sandwich. It’s in the bag behind my seat,” she says.

  Yum, my favorite.

  I reach for the bag and open it.

  “What is this?” I ask as I pull an apron from the bottom of the bag.

  “Oh, that, use it like a bib. You don’t want to get anything on your dress,” she answers.

  Is she serious?

  “What am I five years old?”

  Don chuckles and Momma swats at his leg.

  “I just want us all to look nice for homecoming,” she says.

  I toss the apron aside and take a bite of the sandwich.

  I love my momma but she’s a nut.

  The parking lot is indeed packed when we pull up to the church. People are milling around, greeting each other in their Sunday best. I spot Elle standing with her aunts—Doreen, Ria, and Madeline. Madeline is married to Jefferson Lancaster. They own Rustic Peak Ranch, and they took in Elle and her brother, Braxton, when they lost their parents in an automobile accident. Braxton is now married to Jefferson’s daughter, Sophie, who moved to New York with her mother when she was young. They met when she returned to Poplar Falls for her grandmother’s funeral. They have a baby girl, Lily Claire.

  “I’m going to say hello to Elle,” I tell my parents as I break off in their direction.

  “We’ll save you a seat inside,” Momma calls after me.

  “Good morning, Sonia. Don’t you look pretty!” Doreen greets me.

  I look down at my dress and flats.

  What is with everyone?

  “You don’t think I should have worn my hair down?” I ask in jest.

  She looks my braid over and sighs.

  “I do think it look gorgeous down, but the braid will do,” she says.

  Elle gives me a confused look.

  I shake my head.

  “Bells here yet?” I ask Elle.

  “She and Brandt are on their way. They’re stopping to pick up his mother,” she answers.

  “Do we know what our duties are for this carnival yet?” I ask.

  “Bells and I are on cotton candy and funnel cake detail,” she says.

  “And me?”

  We both look to Doreen, who is one of the ringleaders for the day.

  “We have you down for the corn maze,” she says.

  “Corn maze. Got it,” I say.

  Walker arrives with his mother, and I follow them and Elle into the sanctuary. Don and Momma are seated a few pews back on the right side. She raises her hand to make sure I see them.

  Reverend Burr opens up the service and introduces the guest speaker from a neighboring church. There is singing and celebrating for the church’s fortieth anniversary. They even show a slideshow of past homecomings. It’s all very touching, and I hear sniffles from the pew across from us, where Braxton, Sophie, and Lily Claire are seated, when all the photos of Gram Lancaster flash across the screen. Reverend Burr retakes the pulpit at the end to thank all the visitors and to invite them to stay for the dinner on the grounds and the carnival, explaining what all the proceeds will be used for.

  As we file out one by one, he stands at the doors of the church to shake each hand. I notice from the corner of my eye when Myer, Walker, and Foster, sneak out the side door.

  “Where are they going?” I whisper to Elle, who is behind me in the exit line.

  “They were a little late this morning. They have to run and finish setting up some of the booths before they can eat.”

  We move from the church to the fellowship hall for lunch. Every female member of the church made a dish, and the serving table, covered in a crisp white tablecloth, is spread with enough food to feed five thousand. Another table against the right wall is piled high with desserts.

  Doreen and Ria are behind the counter that separates the rest of the dining area from the kitchen, and they are filling Styrofoam cups with crushed ice and setting them out for people to grab once they load their plates. Jugs of sweet tea, lemonade, and water are available to choose from.

  Reverend Burr blesses the food, and then we all form a line to make our plates.

  Elle, Bellamy, Brandt, and I are seated at one of the round tables, eating, when Myer, Walker, and Foster come in with Truett following them.

  “I made you a plate,” Elle tells Walker.

  “Thanks. I’ll go grab another one and be right back,” he says.

  “Another one?” she asks.


  “Yep. I’ll need another one, so I might as well get it now before I get comfortable.”

  “Why do you need another plate?” she asks.

  He points to the serving table. “Because, woman, that is church-lady food. One doesn’t eat just a single plate of church-lady food. When presented with church-lady food, one eats until they are bursting out of their pants,” he announces.

  Emmett, Aunt Doreen’s fiancé, walks past us with two cups in his hand.

  Walker looks at him and asks, “That sweet tea?”

  “Yep,” Emmett answers.

  “Both of those yours?” he asks.

  “Yep,” Emmett answers again.

  Walker turns back to us and says, “See, church-lady tea.”

  Then, he heads to the table.

  “He’s crazy,” Elle murmurs.

  “You married him,” Bells and I say at the same time and start giggling.

  Brandt slides his seat back and stands. “Sorry, ladies, but I have to agree with the crazy one this time. This church-lady food and tea demand seconds.”

  We finish our meals and make our way over to the table, where Momma, Doreen, Ria, Dottie, and Beverly are sitting, selling tickets for the food trucks, game booths, and corn maze.

  “Here we are, reporting for duty,” I say.

  We each hand our bags over for safekeeping and take the boxes for holding the tickets we’ll collect.

  Momma looks at me, and then she reaches behind her and hands me my purse back. “You need to reapply your lipstick. The color wore off when you ate,” she tells me.

  “What is it with you and my lips today?” I ask.

  “She’s right, dear; the color looked so good on you. It would help if you touched it up,” Doreen says.

  I cut my eyes to her.

  “Don’t you agree, Dottie?” she prompts.

  “Yes, it is a lovely shade,” Dottie replies.

  I snatch the bag from my mother’s clasp, take the tube, and smear the color on thick. Then, I chuck it back in and ask them, “Well?”

  Doreen pulls a tissue from a box on the table. “Maybe blot it a bit,” she suggests.

  I roll my eyes as I take the tissue and press it between my lips.

  “That’s much better,” Momma praises.

  “You guys need to stay away from the tea. The sugar is making you nuts,” I tell them.

  “Oh, here come our first customers,” Ria singsongs, as a line begins to form.

  That’s my cue to hurry to my station.

  Foster

  I’m standing at the entrance to the corn maze, waiting for the crowds to start.

  Dottie set me up with the maze maps this morning on the ride to church and informed me that my job would be to take tickets, pass out the maps, and rescue any visitors I hear screaming because they got lost and can’t find their way out. Not exactly sure how I’ll do all that at one time, but hopefully, no one will get lost to the point of panic. I walked the maze a few times to make sure I knew the route out of every dead end, and it seems to be a beginner’s level. Not like the ones old man Gravely does out in his fields every October. My buddies and I would go for the flashlight nights, and it would take us hours to find our way out of that thing.

  I take a seat at the table under the tent at the entry and wait.

  I reach down into the cooler under the table for a bottle of water when I hear a vaguely familiar voice.

  “Foster? What are you doing here?”

  I look up to see Sonia Pickens standing with her hands on her hips. She has her dark hair in a plait that runs over her left shoulder. She’s wearing a dress that hugs her figure in all the right places. The sunshine highlights her beautiful face, and her honey-colored eyes are trained on me as she stands with her arms crossed over her chest waiting for an answer.

  “I’m working,” I tell her.

  “I know that, but what are you doing here, at this table?” she asks again.

  “I’m here, working,” I say again, slower this time.

  She draws her eyebrows together in confusion. “But I’m working the corn maze,” she says.

  “You are?” I ask.

  “Yes, I just got my assignment from the crazy-lady committee,” she says as she motions towards the fellowship building with her thumb.

  “Well, Dottie gave me these maze maps this morning and told me I had to hand them out and wrangle anyone who got stuck inside,” I confirm as I wave the maps for her to see.

  “Oh,” she says.

  “They must think this is a two-man job,” I tell her as I stand to give her my seat.

  She walks around and sits.

  I grab another bottle of water and open it for her. Then, I set it on the table just as a group of five—two adults and three children—approach with their tickets in hand.

  “Hi, folks. Are you guys having a good time this afternoon?” Sonia asks.

  One of the little girls gives her a huge smile.

  “I won a gold fish!” she exclaims.

  Her mother holds up a tied off plastic bag of water with a small fish inside and grimaces.

  Sonia gives her a sympathetic look as she takes the tickets, and I hand a map to one of the adults and instruct them to make their way to the spot marked with an X, adding that there will be bags of candy corn in a barrel beside the exit to take as a reward for successfully making it through. The kids are practically jumping with excitement as they join hands and follow their parents through the entrance.

  The line stays steady for the next couple of hours. In between customers, I run to find a second chair and join Sonia under the shade of the tent.

  “You said you rode with Marvin and Dottie this morning?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I was going to ride with Payne and Charlotte, but Charlotte wasn’t ready when we finished feeding the horses, and Dottie was in an uproar about getting everything set up. So, I hopped in with them and came on over.”

  Her forehead creases. “You were at the Hendersons’, feeding horses, not Stoney Ridge?” she asks in confusion.

  “I was. I don’t usually work Sundays at the ranch. It’s my day off,” I tell her.

  “So, you spent your day off working for Payne. Why?”

  She is still confused.

  “Not officially, but I help out around the farm and orchard from time to time. They let me stay on their property for two hundred dollars a month. I’ve tried to pay them more, but they won’t accept it, so I pitch in so that I don’t feel like a charity case,” I explain.

  “You live with them? Since when? She asks.

  I thought everyone knew I was staying in Dallas’s old place.

  “Yes. I moved into the silo behind their house. The one Dallas and Beau used to live in.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to play Twenty Questions. I just thought that you and your wife were back together and you were living at home again,” she explains.

  Oh, I see.

  “We tried. My mother had talked us into it, but it didn’t work out.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says.

  I cut my eyes to her and smile. “Don’t be. It’s been over for years. I don’t know why we bothered. I think she only agreed to it because she isn’t happy with slinging drinks down at the bar, and she still wants me to foot the bill for her. I thought that maybe she’d changed. I knew it wasn’t likely though, and I was right.”

  “It still sucks,” she offers.

  I nod. “At least, now, we can both move on. It feels pretty good.”

  “I know that feeling,” she agrees.

  What a dumbass her soon-to-be ex-husband was. How could he let this woman slip through his fingers?

  I’m about to voice this opinion when we are interrupted.

  “How are things going, kids?” Doreen calls as she and Sonia’s mother approach us.

  “We’ve collected two hundred and eight tickets,” Sonia says proudly.

  “Oh, that’s an adequate amount,” Doreen replies.

 
Sonia frowns and looks down at the box of tickets.

  “Adequate?” I ask.

  “Absolutely,” she states.

  “What’s a better than adequate number?” Sonia inquires.

  “Let’s see.” Kathy looks down at her clipboard. “Most have around two hundred and fifty-something. Bellamy and Elle have over three hundred, and Dottie and Dallas are on the top with three hundred and eighteen so far.”

  That makes sense. Funnel cake and Dottie’s cinnamon rolls are hard to beat.

  “Are we in last place?” Sonia gasps.

  “No, the ring toss game only has two hundred and five,” Kathy answers.

  Sonia looks at me in horror. “The ring toss game is the worst game at any fair. We can’t let them catch up to us. We have to do something!”

  “Like what?” I ask, biting my lip trying not to laugh at her panic.

  “I don’t know. Take off your shirt and show off your abs or something,” she suggests.

  “You want me to start stripping to attract ticket holders at a church carnival?”

  “Yes. You’re sure to allure every female here.”

  I like that she thinks that highly of my abs.

  “I’m not sure that’s the way we should go,” I say, no longer hiding my amusement.

  “We could come in last behind the ring toss game, Foster! You have to,” she screeches.

  “No, don’t do that, dear,” Doreen yelps.

  I bring my amused eyes to hers.

  “I think we can come up with something else to attract people,” I assure her.

  “I think it goes without saying—or at least, it should—but please keep it PG,” Doreen requests.

  “We will,” I promise her.

  Kathy smiles as she looks between Sonia and me. “You two have fun, and we’ll be back around shortly.”

  Sonia made it her mission to get every single person she could into that corn maze. She plucked the sign that was attached to the front of our booth and stood outside of the entrance, spinning it and throwing it in the air to catch it like she was a majorette and it was a baton. She made up the most ridiculous chants and pranced around, beckoning every male, young and old, like a siren.