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

by Amber Kelly

  “Fine. Next time, I’ll take it to the dealership, but I need it to start now. So, what do we do?” she asks.

  We? She means, me.

  “I’ll call and get it towed to the garage,” I offer.

  She puts her head in her hands and starts the waterworks.

  Fuck me.

  I don’t want to be a dick, but her tears don’t work on me any longer. They only frustrate me.

  “That’s not going to help,” I snap.

  “What am I supposed to do? I have to work tonight. If I’m out again, Gene is going to fire me,” she whines.

  As much as I want to tell her that it’s not my problem, hop into my truck, and drive off, I don’t. The truth is, if she loses this job, it will most definitely be my problem. So, I dig my keys from my pocket and toss them at her.

  “Here, take my truck to the bar. I’ll wait for the tow truck to come,” I tell her.

  She catches the keys and smiles. “How will you get home?”

  “I’ll get Truett to borrow mom’s car and come and fetch me or something, but I’ll need my truck in the morning. Just leave the keys in it, and I’ll pick it up.”

  “What am I supposed to do about a car until mine is fixed?” she asks.

  “You have parents and a brother. Ask one of them to let you borrow their car or give you a ride,” I suggest.

  She scowls and then stomps off toward the driver’s side of my truck.

  “You’re welcome,” I call out as she gets in and slams the door.

  She revs the engine and spins the tires as she peels out onto the street.

  She’s a piece of work.

  I fish my phone from my pocket and call Jackie for a tow, and then I leave my brother a message, asking for him to call me back.

  How the hell did I go from sitting on my couch in my underwear to sitting in the dark on the side of the road?

  Wendy.

  Story of my life.

  Sonia

  I’m exhausted from the busy day and the crazy-ass yoga. Everything aches, but it’s a good ache. I spend way too much time in my apartment lately. I need to get out and do more.

  I drop Elle off at her and Walker’s house and head home. A long, hot shower and a glass of wine are just what I need.

  It’s such a beautiful night. You know the kind—fall is in the air, the moon is full making the tops of the trees glow on the mountainside and the stars are dancing across the sky.

  The temperature is still perfect, so I decide to take the long way home. I roll the windows down and turn up the radio as I sing my way into town.

  I’m belting out the last verse of Pink’s “Say Something” when I see blinking emergency lights ahead.

  Foster is perched on the hood of a small black car.

  Foster works for Bellamy’s dad at Stoney Ridge Ranch. I can still remember the day he started. Bells, Elle, and I were in high school, and Bells’s brother came to pick us up after a football game. When we made it home, Myer introduced us to Foster. We knew his brother, Truett, from school and working at the ranch the summer before.

  It was love at first sight. I think all three of us were instantly crushing on the tall, dirty-blond guy with broad shoulders and the most beautiful, piercing blue eyes. Of course, he was much older than us and married to boot—plus, he didn’t even blink at us.

  Through the years, he and Truett became like family to Bells, and our infatuations faded and moved on to others, but now and then, I’d catch him looking in my direction, and my stomach would flutter.

  Foster and his wife split up last summer and he moved out. So, when Ricky and I broke up in fall, Foster did show a little interest. Bells and Elle thought maybe there could be something sparking between us, and I’ll admit, I was flattered, but I wasn’t ready to jump back into anything romantic. Not at the time. I was healing. Hell, I’m still recovering almost a year later.

  I heard he and his wife had gotten back together sometime after Elle’s wedding. So, I guess it worked out for the best. They may not have made it, but at least they had the opportunity to know beyond the shadow of a doubt their marriage was over.

  I must admit, though, that handsome cowboy stranded on the side of the road sure does make my toes curl.

  I turn the radio down and slow my speed as I approach. In the moonlight, he looks like an oasis in the dessert.

  “You need some help?” I ask.

  He grins as he stands and walks over to my car.

  He ducks and braces his hands on my windowsill. Dark lashes fringe his twinkling blue eyes as his deep voice fills the air between us. “Do you know anything about German motors?” he asks.

  “Can’t say that I do,” I reply.

  “Damn,” he mutters.

  “I thought you drove a pickup,” I say.

  “I do. This is Wendy’s piece of shit,” he informs.

  Wendy. His wife.

  I look around him and back to the car.

  “She’s not here. I gave her my truck, so she could make it to work on time and not get fired. Again. I’m waiting for a tow truck to pick this thing up. It should be here any minute,” he explains.

  I nod. Then, there is a long moment of silence.

  “You wouldn’t be able to give me a ride out to Henderson’s Farm, would you?” he asks.

  “A ride?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’m kind of stranded. I left a message for Truett, and he hasn’t called me back yet.”

  “Sure, I can do that,” I agree just as the tow truck pulls up.

  I move my car over on the opposite side of the road and wait while he speaks to the driver. Then, he crosses over and hops into my passenger seat.

  “I appreciate this. I was relieved to see you drive up. I was afraid I would have to walk back home.”

  I pull a U-turn and head in the direction of Henderson’s Farm and Apple Orchard.

  “It was sheer luck. I’m on my way back home from Walker and Elle’s house and it is such a nice night I decided to take my sweet time.”

  “Lucky indeed,” he agrees.

  We drive the rest of the way in loaded silence. When I pull up in front of the silo, he reaches for the handle and sits for a few beats before he turns back to me.

  “I had fun on Sunday,” he says.

  “So did I,” I admit.

  Spending the day with him at the carnival was a lot of fun.

  “Can I take you to dinner one night?” he asks. “As a thank-you for the ride?”

  “You don’t have to do that. Just saying thank you is well enough,” I tell him.

  He sighs. “Okay, can I take you to dinner just because I want to?” He tries again.

  Just because he wants to.

  The words hang in the air between us, and for the life of me, I can’t think of a single reason to say no.

  “I’d like that,” I say, surprising us both.

  “How about this weekend? Are you free on Saturday night? I can be done on the ranch and pick you up by, say, seven thirty?”

  “I’ll be ready. Do you remember where I live?” I ask.

  “I do indeed,” he says in a low rumble that implies, How could I forget?

  I’m sure the flush of heat I feel is causing a blush to creep up my neck to my cheeks. I’m grateful for the cover of darkness to hide my reaction to his voice.

  “Good, then. I’ll see you Saturday,” I reply.

  He gives me a wide smile before he opens the door and walks up to the porch.

  As I back up, he stands and waves. The headlights from my car highlight his handsome silhouette.

  A thrill slides through me as I turn back toward town. I think I’m finally ready to jump back into dating.

  I start to grab my phone and call Elle or Bellamy, but I fight the urge.

  Maybe I should keep this to myself until I know what it is. He could honestly just be taking me to a friendly dinner to say thank you. I don’t need to make it a big deal.

  But it is a big deal.

  Foster


  “We have a couple of cows loose. They must have broken through a fence backing up to the orchard on the other side of the river,” Winston informs us as we make our way in from dropping hay in the bale feeders.

  “Shit, I’ll get the truck,” Truett says.

  “I’ll grab a horse and meet you out that way,” I call after him. “How many are we talking?” I ask Winston.

  “Eleven were spotted. The reverend was making a house call and saw them. He called me. There could be more though. I rode out, and the breach is a pretty good size.”

  Dammit.

  “We planned to reinforce the fence in the main pastures but not until we moved the herd to the winter pasture. Myer wanted to put in an entire new fence with barbed wire because the coyotes have been getting more aggressive out there and we need to protect the calves,” I tell him.

  “Looks like we might have to move them sooner than we planned and get that taken care of,” Winston advises.

  “I’ll let him know. I’ll need another man on horseback,” I say as I reach in my pocket to retrieve my phone.

  “I’ll catch up to Truett, grab some supplies, and help him hitch up a trailer, and we’ll see you there,” Winston says as he heads toward the driveway.

  By the time Myer makes it to the barn, I’ve already saddled two of our fastest cow ponies, and we take off at a breakneck speed to the back of the ranch to try to wrangle the wayward beasts back into the safety of the pasture.

  Winston and Truett are already parked up ahead of the breach and have unloaded materials to do a quick patch. They have the livestock trailer backed in to face out with the doors open and a loading ramp in place.

  “Looks like something spooked them and they barreled right through the fence,” Winston says as we approach.

  “Probably one of those damn coyotes. The one Payne and I caught sight of the other night was huge,” Myer says as he eyes the damage.

  “They were spotted just short of a mile in that direction.” Winston points toward the mountainside.

  “We’ll get them,” I say.

  Myer and I ride through the hole together and head up the side of the mountain in search of the animals.

  It takes us about half an hour of searching before finding four grazing near a patch of oak trees nearly a quarter of a mile from the fence. We slow our pace and approach them as calmly and as quietly as possible so as not to startle them.

  When we get to the other side of the tree line, we see the others a few feet away.

  “You move around to the back, and I’ll take the front,” Myer instructs as we make it to the small herd.

  I keep a slow and steady pace as I start to circle the cows to bring them in closer together. The cows look up from eating, curious about the horses that have joined their party.

  The trick is to stay where the animals can see you. In the movies you watch as kids, the cowboys whooped and hawed at cattle to get them moving, but if you spook them, you have zero chance of leading them to safety. So, we work as a team with each other and our ponies to gently coax them to start moving in the direction we want them to go.

  It’s more like a slow dance than a whooping and hollering match.

  When we get them within sight of the trailer, Winston and Truett start encouraging them to it with hay and grain. One by one, they load themselves onto the trailer, and Truett latches the door.

  Once the cattle are secure, we set to patching the fence for the night, so we don’t lose any more before daybreak.

  Myer and I head back on the horses, and Winston and Truett drive the animals back to be loaded in the holding corral until we can reunite them with the rest of the herd tomorrow.

  “I reckon we’ll be moving them to the winter pasture this weekend?” I ask.

  “Looks like it. We’ll work to get it ready in the next few days. I’ll ride out in the morning to check and make sure the water supply is good. We might have to dam the river like we did last year to make sure it rises enough on that side of the property.”

  I nod, thinking it’s going to be a few long days out on the ranch.

  “I can see that frown from under your hat. You got other plans?” he asks.

  I nod my head. “I was going to take a girl to dinner on Saturday night. I’ll call her and ask if we can do it another night,” I offer.

  “A date? With who?” he asks.

  “Sonia.”

  His eyebrows rise. “How’d you manage that?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure. We spent the day together Sunday, just talking. Then, Wendy stranded me with her broken-down car the other night, and Sonia happened to drive by and offered to give me a ride home. So, I took the opportunity and asked her as a thank-you,” I explain.

  He nods. “Don’t reschedule that. You might not get another opportunity dropped so conveniently in your lap again. You work till you need to leave, and Dad, Truett, and I’ll handle the rest. If we need backup, I’ll call Brax and Walker to come by and lend a hand for a couple of hours.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “Definitely. If I made you break a date with Sonia to work and Bellamy found out, she’d stomp a mud puddle in my ass and walk it dry,” he says.

  I laugh because I could see that fight now. “I’ll stay late the next two nights and come in early Saturday. Hopefully, we’ll have everything done by the time I need to head out anyway.”

  “Am I allowed to tell Dallas about this turn of events?” he asks.

  “Why would you?”

  He laughs. “As soon as one of the women finds out you two went out together, they will all know, and the first thing my wife will ask me is if I knew you were taking Sonia to dinner. If I say yes and I didn’t tell her, she’ll have my head. If I say no and lie to her … well, I’d never lie to her, so I guess I’ll just have to take my ass-whooping if you want me to keep it to myself.”

  I shrug. “I guess you can. Just don’t call it a date,” I insist.

  “Not a date. Got it.”

  “It’s a date,” I mutter.

  “I know.” He grins.

  Sonia

  I’m a nervous wreck as I rifle through my closet. I haven’t been on a date in so long that I have no idea what to wear. I pull a dress that I wore to Braxton and Sophie’s wedding from the back. It’s a sleeveless, knee-length strawberry-pink crepe dress with a low neckline that shows just a peek of cleavage. Maybe I could pair this with a sweater. I rummage through my sweaters and find a chunky deep-wine-colored cable knit number that complements the dress; if I put it together with the dress and ballet flats, it will give it a more casual look.

  I wonder where we’re going for dinner.

  My eye catches the cream-colored faux fur blazer that is hanging on the back of the closet door. I purchased it a couple of months ago and haven’t worn it yet. If I pair it with the dress, I can wear my suede pumps and dress it up.

  I grab both options in cover-up and footwear and lay them out on my bed. I’ll just see how Foster is dressed when he picks me up and decide which direction to go.

  Then, I jump in the shower and shampoo my hair. It’s gotten so long. I usually wear it just past my shoulders, but I let it grow this summer for a change, and it’s hanging down my back now.

  I pull it out with a dryer and round brush, so it lies in soft waves. I apply a little more makeup than I usually wear and spritz a dab of perfume on my wrists and behind my ears.

  I slide into the dress and stand in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

  I haven’t felt this good or this comfortable in my skin in a long time.

  It’s funny how a pretty dress and swipe of lipstick can make you feel like an entirely new woman.

  I’m putting the back on my pearl earring when the buzzer rings. I look at the clock on the nightstand, and it’s seven thirty on the dot.

  He’s prompt.

  I run to the stairs, and I stop at the top and force myself to walk slowly to the door. I don’
t want to seem too anxious.

  When I open the door, he is standing there in a pair of dark jeans that fit him oh-so well and a dark gray dress shirt. His dirty-blond hair is a tad damp, like he rushed here straight from the shower. He smells like woodsy aftershave, and his blue eyes are twinkling as he looks me over from top to toe.

  “That’s a great dress,” he says as his eyes come back to mine.

  “Thank you.”

  “Aren’t you going to be cold?” he asks.

  “I have a jacket. I was just waiting for you before I put it on. Come in, and I’ll grab it and my heels and purse. Then, I’ll be ready to go.”

  He comes in and shuts the door behind him as I climb the steps that lead to my living room area.

  “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back,” I tell him before slipping into my bedroom to slide into the pumps and grab the fur blazer and my purse.

  I take one last look in the mirror and a deep breath. Then, I join him.

  I lock up, and he helps me with my blazer. Then, he offers me his elbow as we round the building onto Main Street. Instead of leading me to his truck, he guides me up the sidewalk.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “I made us a reservation at Bella Ciao. I hope you like pasta.”

  Bella Ciao is the new Italian restaurant that opened downtown last summer. Elle and I have been dying to try it but haven’t made it there yet.

  “I love it,” I tell him.

  The evening is slightly chilly with a light breeze, but Foster’s significant frame blocks me from most of it. The lampposts that dot Main Street begin coming on one by one, as if guiding us down the lane. A few people are meandering on the sidewalks. Most of the shop owners are closing up for the night and heading home. A couple of kids are giggling as they chase a big brown dog around the square.

  “Has downtown always been this amazing?” he asks as we stroll past the window displays.

  “It has. I love it.”

  “I’m starting to see the beauty of it more and more myself,” he admits.