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

by Amber Kelly

  Brandt and Bellamy are sponsoring a pet adoption drive at the clinic this afternoon, and I promised Bells I’d stop by and see the pups and kittens that needed a home.

  I park at home and walk down to the clinic. It is a whirl of activity with parents chasing excited children, moving from pen to pen, petting puppies of all shapes and colors.

  I stand to the side and watch as one little boy picks up a puppy that doesn’t look to be much bigger than him. He squeals in delight as the brown-and-white pup squirms and twists in his hold, trying to lick the chocolate-milk mustache from his mouth.

  A moment later, Bellamy appears from down the hallway, and she locks eyes with me. She looks a bit overwhelmed as she approaches.

  “I’m so glad you made it,” she says as she hugs me.

  “Looks like you have a good turnout,” I tell her.

  “Not good enough. If we don’t adopt out all these little critters, they are going home with us until we can find them new homes,” she informs me.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, the shelter in Montebello had to shut its doors because it was short of funding. These little guys were going to be put down if we didn’t rescue them. I just can’t stand the thought of any of them not finding new humans,” she says as a girl with a white kitten tugs at her skirt.

  “What’s her name?” she asks.

  “I call her Snowball, but if you take her home with you, you can choose any name you want for her.”

  “I like Snowball,” the girl says, and then she runs off to find her parents to no doubt beg to be the fluffy kitty’s new momma.

  “Well, show me what you have,” I tell Bells.

  I have wanted a dog to keep me company at home. I’ve just been worried that I’m too on the go to be a proper pet owner.

  “We have some older puppies in here. Follow me,” she says as we walk down the hall to one of the larger exam rooms, closed off with a gate in the doorway.

  Inside are about a dozen of the cutest dogs I’ve ever seen. A couple are curled together in a corner, sleeping, while the others are bouncing around, pawing and gnawing at one another.

  “I wanted to introduce you to that one.” She points to a cream-colored floof with a patch of brown surrounding its left eye and each of its paws. Its coat is long and wavy, and it has a tiny brown nose.

  “Oh, it’s adorable,” I tell her.

  “It’s a female labradoodle. She’s sixteen weeks old, and she’s had all her shots. She’s teething, but she seems to be handling it well. They are very mild-tempered, love their humans, and ride easy so that you could take her with you on house calls. She is just the sweetest thing, and they don’t shed and are hypoallergenic, so your patients shouldn’t have a problem being around her.” She drives home the sale.

  “How big will she get?” I ask.

  “Judging by her age and weight, Brandt is guessing she is a medium breed, so she’ll probably end up somewhere between thirty-five and forty-five pounds. So, not too big, not too small.”

  “Bellamy, can you come to the office for a second?” Elaine, Brandt’s mother, calls out.

  “Be there in a sec,” Bells answers before turning back to me. “If you’re not sold, look around; any of these guys would make wonderful companions. I’ll be right back,” she says before leaving me with the group and taking off down the hallway.

  I step over the gate and walk into the midst of the room. I’m instantly surrounded by a barrage of puppies, fighting for my attention. I don’t know which one to pick up first when I hear a deep voice from the doorway.

  “I think you might have to take them all home.”

  I look up to see Foster propped in the doorway, watching us.

  “I wish I could,” I say as I laugh at the antics of the babies at my feet.

  Foster steps over the gate and joins me in the room.

  I take a seat in the center and start petting the pups, trying to get them to settle.

  The labradoodle fights her way to my lap. She places her paws on my chest and starts to lick at my jaw. Her sweet puppy breath is coming fast as she pants with excitement. I stroke her soft fur, and she rolls over in my lap to expose her tummy. I gently begin to scratch her, and her hind legs start to kick in ecstasy.

  My heart instantly melts.

  Foster stoops to one knee in front of us. “I think you’ve been claimed,” he says as he gives her a scratch behind the ears.

  The pup closes its eyes and gives a growl of content.

  “I think so,” I agree.

  “So, what are you going to name her?” he asks.

  “George,” I answer immediately.

  He looks confused.

  “George? I thought it was a female.” He looks down at her tummy, and the evidence confirms she is indeed a she.

  “She is.”

  He raises an eyebrow in question.

  “Did you watch cartoons when you were a kid?” I ask.

  “Um, sure,” he replies.

  “When I was little, I was a Looney Tunes fanatic, and there was this one cartoon that had Hugo the Abominable Snowman on it. And he always wanted a bunny rabbit of his own. He comes upon Daffy Duck, and because of the sleeves of Daffy’s shirt, which are on his head, Hugo mistakes him for a bunny rabbit. He picks him up and starts hugging him and rocking him and saying he will love him and pet him and squeeze him and call him George,” I explain.

  “I vaguely remember that,” he says.

  “Well, I always said if I got my own puppy, I’d name him or her George.”

  He laughs at that.

  A black puppy that looks to be a boxer and maybe pit mix strolls up to his side.

  Foster picks it up and turns the pup over. “It’s a boy. I guess I’ll have to name him Sue.”

  I laugh. “What?”

  “After the Johnny Cash song ‘A Boy Named Sue,’ ” he clarifies.

  “You’re going to adopt that puppy and name him Sue?”

  “I sure am. If your puppy has a cool backstory, mine needs one too. Besides, he’ll protect her at the dog park if any of the other dogs pick on her because she’s named George.”

  Something about what he said touches me deeply, and that cold place in my chest, where my heart used to beat, warms.

  “I guess that means we’ll have to have playdates at the park,” I point out.

  “That’s what the boy and I are angling for—playdates at the park with two pretty girls. Isn’t that right, Sue?”

  The puppy yaps his approval, and Foster grins down at him.

  “That’s my boy.”

  I carry George into her new home.

  “This is it, baby girl. It’s not much, but it’s home,” I tell her as I set her on the rug in front of the couch.

  After Elaine had Foster and me fill out all the necessary paperwork, he accompanied me to the pet shop a few doors down, and we both picked up the necessities for our new charges. Then, he helped me make two trips back to my apartment with the new crate, collar, puppy food, toys, and feather bed for the tiny queen of the castle. I waited on the sidewalk as he loaded the back of his truck with the same for his house, minus the feather bed—he said Sue was more of a wool-and-flannel bed type of guy.

  George and I are just settling in when my phone starts ringing.

  Bellamy is calling.

  I press the green button, and before I can even say hello, she starts talking.

  “What was that with you and Foster today?” she asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Spill,” she demands.

  “We were both there, adopting puppies, and he helped me pick up some supplies at the pet store.” I try to evade her question.

  “And?” She persists.

  “And I like him, okay? We went out to dinner last night, and it was fun,” I admit.

  Silence.

  “Hello? Bells? You still there?”

  “Still here. I’m just processin
g what you said.”

  I wait while I listen to her breathe over the line.

  “I can’t believe you had a date with a hot guy and didn’t call your very best friend to tell her!” She finally releases her frustration.

  “Well—” I start.

  “Don’t well me. Does Elle know about this?” she asks.

  “No.”

  “That’s good.”

  “But I thought you said you couldn’t believe I didn’t tell you guys?”

  “If you had told one of us and not the other, then you’d have been in big trouble.”

  “Didn’t I just do that?” I ask.

  “Yeah, but I called and forced it out of you, so this conversation doesn’t count. Now, are you going out with him again?”

  “Hmm, that’s the million-dollar question. It’s not like he asked me on another date, technically. He said he had a nice time, but was it as good a time as I did? Does he want to see more of me, or was he being polite when he mentioned taking me out again someday? I don’t know. He didn’t even ask for my phone number. Maybe he didn’t feel a spark or thought my life was too messy for him,” I tell her.

  “Oh, please. Foster’s life is way messier than yours, and he sure didn’t try to avoid you at the clinic today. He’s interested. Hell, he’s been interested for a long time,” she points out.

  “Do you think it’s really over with his wife?” I ask.

  “Sonia, I don’t think it ever truly began with his wife.”

  “But they’ve gone back and forth a lot over the years.”

  “Yeah, they have, but honestly, I think, for him, it was more out of obligation than anything else. All he ever seemed was miserable in that relationship. He’s so much happier and carefree at the ranch when they are not together. The last time they tried to reconcile, and it didn’t take, I knew it was done, done.”

  “I got that impression too,” I admit.

  “He’s a good man. Easy on the eyes. And I’m pretty sure he has an avenue or ten to get your phone number if he wants it.”

  “He did make tentative plans for a puppy playdate with George and Sue,” I confess.

  “Uh-huh, he’s definitely got your number.”

  I sigh into the phone. It’s good to talk to her about it all.

  “Now, can we talk about those puppy names? What the hell is that all about?”

  Foster

  I brought Sue to work with me, and he meandered around, exploring the barn and following the old hound dogs while we worked. I’ve been checking on him frequently, and the last time I come searching for him, he is in Myer’s mom, Beverly’s lap on the porch swing, being rocked like a baby.

  “I don’t know if you’ll get her back,” she says as I join them.

  “Him,” I remind her.

  “Oh, yes, I mean, him. You’re going to have to put a blue dog collar on him or something, so I don’t forget.”

  That’s not a bad idea.

  “I’ll do that,” I tell her.

  Sue pops an eye open at the sound of my voice, and as soon as he sees me, he starts squirming and trying to get to me like he hasn’t seen me in days.

  I walk over and take him from her before he hurts them both.

  “Are you ready to go home, buddy?” I ask the puppy.

  He yaps in answer as he licks my jaw.

  “I have a plate in the oven for you. Stay right here, and I’ll go get it and wrap it up,” Beverly says before standing.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  She pats my cheek, and then she disappears into the house.

  I walk Sue to the patch of grass in front of the porch and let him down to ensure he doesn’t need to potty before we get in the truck. I stand and watch as he chases the florets as they blow loose from a dandelion seed head when I hear the sound of tires on gravel and turn to see Bellamy’s SUV coming through the gate.

  Sue takes off toward her approaching vehicle, and I have to run him down, so she can park.

  She says hello to us both as she hops out. Her long blonde hair is in a ponytail, and she removes her sunglasses from her nose and props them on her head.

  “Hi yourself,” I greet.

  “So, are you going to call my best friend for a second date or what?” she asks, and I almost drop Sue.

  “Um …”

  She crosses her arms over her chest and stares me in the eye.

  “I plan to,” I tell her.

  “Good answer,” she says while reaching to take the pup from my arms.

  “Did she say she wants to go out again?” I ask.

  I assume she has talked to Sonia if she knows we went to dinner. I’m dying to know where her head is at.

  “Don’t try to pump me for information. My lips are sealed,” she starts and then looks at me from the corner of her eye as she walks us around toward the house. “But if you want some advice, I’d ask me for her phone number and call her tonight. A girl doesn’t like to be left in limbo wondering if a man wants to see her again. Plus, you need to strike while the iron is hot and she doesn’t have time to overthink things.”

  I like getting this insight and advice from someone who knows Sonia so well.

  “If you were me, what kind of date would you take her on next?” I ask.

  She looks at me over her shoulder.

  “Do I have to spoon-feed you everything? Be creative. Romance her. Ricky was a fool, Sonia is so easy to please. She loves cooking, being outdoors, curling up watching television. It doesn’t have to be grand or full of frills to get her attention. It just has to be real and intimate. You can do that, can’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I can do that,” I assure her.

  She smiles.

  “Excellent.”

  I follow her, and Beverly emerges with a plate covered in aluminum foil and a brown paper bag.

  “Here you go, Foster. There is a healthy helping of chicken casserole and green beans, and I put a few biscuits and a couple of brownies in the bag,” she says as I reach her.

  “Sounds amazing. You know how much I love your chicken casserole. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she says before turning to her daughter.

  “Bellamy, I didn’t know you were coming by,” she says.

  “Hi, Momma. I just wanted to drop by and visit with you for a while. Plus, I needed to chat with Foster for a few minutes and get puppy cuddles. Brandt got called out to a hog emergency right as we were locking up,” Bellamy tells her.

  “There’s plenty if you want to have supper with Pop and me. I’ll even make a to-go plate for Brandt,” Beverly offers.

  “Sounds good.”

  A gorgeous smile spreads across Beverly’s face at the thought of dinner with her daughter.

  “I’ll go set another place. Your father should be in any minute. See you tomorrow, Foster.”

  She disappears back through the door, and I turn to take my puppy from Bellamy’s arms.

  “Come on, Sue. Let’s let these ladies get to their meal,” I say, and Bellamy hands him over.

  Then, she snatches my phone from my back pocket and starts tapping on it. She finishes and hands it back to me.

  “You’re welcome,” she says and gives me a wink before following her mother inside.

  I get the dog secured in my truck when Winston, Myer, and Truett come out of the barn.

  “See you fellas tomorrow,” Winston says as he walks right past me and to his waiting supper.

  Myer and Truett stop at me.

  “Hey, brother. Do you think I could borrow your spot Friday night?” Truett asks.

  “My spot?”

  “Yeah, the silo. I’ve got a date, and I think I’ll order pizza and rent a DVD,” he says.

  “Whoa, big spender. Don’t get carried away,” Myer teases.

  Truett sighs. “I know. I’m a little tapped this week, but she’s a pretty low-key gal, so I don’t think she’ll mind. Besides, it’s easier to talk and get to know each other when you are just hanging out
at home and not in some loud bar.”

  “So, hang out at your house,” I tell him.

  He frowns. “You know I’ll never talk Mom and Dad into letting me bring a girl home and them giving us any privacy.”

  “Not my problem, Romeo,” I say.

  “Come on, Foster. There won’t be any hanky-panky. I’d just like to have dinner and watch a movie with her without Mom giving her the stink eye all night,” he pleads.

  “Fine, but you’ll be on puppy duty while you’re there. Just text me when the coast is clear.” I give in.

  “Thanks, man. Chicks love puppies. Sue will be my wingman for the night.”

  “And there’d better not be hanky-panky because if your bare ass touches any surface, I’ll have to burn the place to the ground. Understand?”

  Myer chuckles as I open my truck door.

  “Got it.”

  “Don’t think you’re going to make it a habit to bring dates back to my home either. This is a onetime deal,” I warn him.

  He gives me a salute of acknowledgment, and I shut the door and start my truck.

  I take my phone and lay it on the seat beside me. Once Myer and Truett have gone inside, I pick it up and tap on my Contacts list. I scroll down till I find the newest entry—Sonia: Most Beautiful Girl in the World—and I grin.

  Bellamy sure got that right.

  Sonia

  I finish up early with patients and decide to take George by Momma’s shop to introduce her to her new granddog. I attach her leash to her harness, and we walk around the corner.

  Momma is on a ladder, reaching a high shelf, when the bell chimes to let her know we are entering.

  She looks over her shoulder and smiles before she hurries down the ladder. When she gets to the last rung, she steps off and turns to greet us. I notice her face goes pale instantly, and she sways on her feet. I let go of George’s leash and rush over to grab her elbow and steady her.

  “Are you okay, Momma?” I ask.

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I just turned around too fast and got a bit dizzy,” she says.

  “Well, come sit down and catch your breath,” I say as I lead her over to the black velvet Queen Anne sofa at the front of the dressing room.