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

by Amber Kelly

  George follows behind us on our ankles, curious as to what has me on alert.

  The nurse in me starts to fuss over Momma as she sits down.

  “Have you been getting dizzy often?” I ask as I lift George onto the sofa beside her and drop my bag to the floor. Then, I place the back of my hand on her forehead to check for a fever.

  “Not often, no,” she says as she shoos my hand away.

  “Have you had a headache or blurry vision?”

  “No.”

  “You’re flushed, and you feel a little clammy. Have you eaten today?” I continue the inquisition.

  She smiles. “I forgot to have lunch. The shop got busy around noon, and it just slipped my mind.”

  “In that case, your blood sugar could just be low,” I assess.

  “That’s it. I just need supper, and I’ll be fine,” she declares.

  I bend and rummage in my bag until I find the granola bar I tossed in there this morning. I tear the wrapper open with my teeth and hand it to her. “Here, eat this. It should help.”

  She grabs the offered bar from my hand and takes a big bite. I watch as she chews and swallows.

  “There, happy?” she asks.

  I can tell she’s only trying to appease me.

  “I’ll be happy when you eat it all. Tomorrow, you need to make an appointment with Dr. Scanlan and tell him about this episode.”

  “I’m fine now, sweetheart,” she says but takes another bite.

  “Any problem swallowing?” I ask.

  “Nope, none at all,” she says.

  George stands on her back legs and starts hopping up, pawing at the wrapped bar.

  “Oh, who do we have here? Is this our newest family member?” she asks as George continues to make a play for her snack.

  “Yes, Momma this is George. George this is your Mawmaw,” I introduce them.

  “You want a bite, don’t you?” Momma asks the pup.

  “She wants everything. I tried to explain that puppies only get puppy food, but she doesn’t think that’s very fair.”

  “Sorry, baby, but if your mom says no, I can’t share.”

  She reaches over and strokes George’s hair.

  “She’s adorable, Sonia.”

  “Isn’t she?” I agree.

  “What are you girls up to this evening?” she asks George, but I answer.

  “We thought we’d hang out with you until closing,” I tell her.

  “Oh, great! I have a knitting order to finish up before I call it a night. Want to get takeout?” she asks.

  “Are you positive you don’t want to go home and lie down?” I ask.

  “I’m fine. Now, stop fussing over me and go get us some food.”

  “Okay. If you want to watch George, I’ll go down to Faye’s and pick us up a couple of meatloaf specials.”

  I return with the food to find George curled up on a quilt, fast asleep beside Momma in the back room. Momma is seated next to a basket of yarn with knitting needles in her hands.

  I turn the sign in the window to Closed and lock the door behind me.

  I set the food out on the counter, and then I make a plate and set it beside her. Then, I settle in a chair across the way with mine.

  “I got my divorce papers today. Ricky had already signed them,” I tell her.

  She nods. “Good. It’s time to shut the door on that part of your life and move forward,” she says as she weaves the yarn together. Her reading glasses are as far down her nose as they can go without falling off her face.

  “I never thought I’d be a twenty-five-year-old divorcée. It’s embarrassing,” I mutter.

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” she says.

  “You’re not disappointed in me?”

  She looks up from her work. “I’m disappointed for you, not disappointed in you. There’s a difference. You loved him the best you could and did all within your power to make your marriage work. And there is no shame in moving on.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “The other night, I saw you walk past this window, arm in arm with Foster Tomlin,” she says.

  “You did? Why didn’t you say anything when I came in that night?” I ask.

  She never let on that she knew I was with Foster.

  She shrugs. “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t know if I am ready, Momma.”

  “Why not?”

  “Ricky tore my heart apart. It’s taken me a year for the constant ache in my chest to subside. Foster has been hurt. A lot. His ex-wife has put him through hell. What if I’m so damaged that I do the same thing? What if my heart is just a pile of scraps that can never be whole again?”

  “Oh, baby girl, I know it feels that way right now, but time heals. Look at this basket full of loose yarn. It’s all different colors and lengths. Scraps left from other projects. I could have tossed it out, given up on it, but I kept it, and now, look.” She holds up the beautiful blanket in progress.

  “All of these leftover pieces are being knitted together to make a gorgeous blanket for Maisy’s new granddaughter. These scraps will keep that baby warm. They will comfort her. They will cover her. Don’t think for a second that God can’t take the pieces of your shattered heart and knit them together into something beautiful. Something stronger and more joyful than you can imagine.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I whisper.

  “I am. Do you know how I know?”

  “How?”

  “He did it for me. I was broken when I lost your father. I loved him with every fiber of my being. I never thought I’d recover. But God had a different plan. He brought Don into my life, and though I never stopped loving your father, he made room for me to let Don in, and we’ve had a great decade together. So, trust your mother; your happiness is still to come.”

  “Thanks, Momma.”

  We sit and chat about everything for the next two hours while she works. I love our time together. I always say Elle and Bellamy are my best friends, but truth be told, Kathy Chambers is my best friend too. She’s been my ride or die since day one, and we’ve been through hell and back together.

  No one ever loves you like your momma does.

  Foster

  I settle in and decide to call Sonia. I just want to hear her voice.

  She picks up after the second ring.

  “Hello?” she says warily.

  Bellamy programmed her into my phone, but Sonia doesn’t recognize my number.

  “Hi, Sonia,” I greet.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Foster. I ran into Bellamy at the ranch yesterday, and she gave me your number. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is. I should have given it to you the other night, but I didn’t think,” she says in a rush.

  “Yeah, I should have asked for it. I guess I’m a bit rusty at this courting thing,” I tell her.

  “Courting? What are we, Amish?”

  She giggles, and the sound is like music to my ears.

  “I didn’t want to say dating. I thought that might be presumptuous.”

  “You’re right; courting sounds way less brazen.”

  She’s teasing me.

  “Are you making fun of me?” I ask.

  “Not at all. It’s impolite to tease an old man like you.”

  “Old, huh?”

  “Well, you did use the phrase courting.”

  “Touché.”

  “Oh, you’re making it worse,” she says, and her giggle turns into a full belly laugh.

  “Should I hang up and start over?” I ask.

  “No, no. I’m sorry. I’m done, I promise.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I love the sound of your laugh,” I tell her.

  “You do?”

  “I could listen to it all night.”

  There is a long pause.

  Then, she prompts for me to continue, “So …”

  “Oh, right. I called to see if yo
u’d like to plan one of those playdates at the park with the kids.”

  “The kids?”

  “George and Sue,” I clarify.

  “Oh, those kids. Yes, we’d love to hang out with you guys.”

  “How about this weekend?” I ask.

  “I have to work for a few hours on Sunday morning, and I sometimes take Walker’s mom to church, but I’m free afterward. Or I can do Saturday afternoon, but I’ll have to be back in time to get ready for the party at the cider mill.”

  Payne and Charlotte have invited all their friends over to see the progress they’ve made and to get everyone’s opinion on what they need to add or improve.

  “I’ll be at the cider mill too. I promised Payne I’d help him and Walker with a few things to get it ready for the night.”

  “It should be fun. I can’t wait to see the place,” she says.

  “It’s pretty spectacular. Unlike anything else in Poplar Falls.”

  “So, I’ll get to see you Saturday night. Do you want to plan for Sunday afternoon, then?” she asks.

  “It’s a date.”

  “I look forward to it and to seeing you at the party,” she says.

  The line goes quiet, but I don’t want to let her go.

  Finally, she speaks, “Uh, the awkward silence is painful. Tell me good night, Foster.”

  I chuckle. “Sweet dreams, pretty girl.”

  “Sweet dreams.”

  She clicks off, and I stare down at my phone with a cheesy grin on my face.

  I look over to see Sue watching me and moving his head from side to side.

  “Don’t judge me, little man.”

  Foster

  “Woot. Way to go, baby! Those big muscles are the reason I married you,” Elle calls from across the yard.

  Walker flexes his bicep. Then, he grins and yells back his response, “This isn’t the big muscle you married me for, woman.”

  We all laugh, except Braxton, who smacks him on the back of the head.

  “Hey, dipshit, I’ve got an ax in my hand.”

  Walker rubs the back of his head and frowns. “I am who I am, and your baby sister married me. You’re just going to have to get used to it, man.”

  “I’ll never get used to that crap,” Braxton grumbles.

  Then, he turns to Payne. “Thanks for inviting us. Sophie and I rarely get a night without the baby anymore. It feels good to talk to other adults, drink beer, and sling axes. This place is turning out cool as shit,” Braxton tells him as I grab a log and toss it into the flames.

  Payne looks around, and the pride is evident in his expression. “I appreciate you guys coming and for the help with getting those heavy-ass pool tables installed this afternoon,” he says as he throws yet another log on the bonfire.

  “You aren’t lying. Those things are ten times heavier than the ones down at Fast Breaks. I helped Butch move those out when he had the floor resurfaced, and they were light as a feather compared to those beasts,” Walker informs.

  “Charlotte wanted upscale billiards, like the ones at her father’s club in New York. She also ordered some fancy Tiffany glass light fixtures to go above them.”

  “Upscale,” Walker says as he looks around the place. “Yeah, Poplar Falls could use a splash of class.”

  “She hopes to rent the place out as a wedding venue in the future. She has plans to be a premier choice for brides all over the country, looking for a rustic wedding experience.”

  “She has Dallas excited too. She’s been trying new wedding cake designs, and she’s even had Sophie sketch out some exclusive ones that Dallas and her mother have been practicing. Beau and I have been eating a lot of cake,” Myer says.

  “That’s a great idea. Think of the repeat business you’d get every year with those couples coming back to spend their anniversaries and vacations with their kids in Poplar Falls. It could be good for the entire town. They’d come to eat, drink, and shop local, but then they’d go back to their own cities,” Braxton says.

  “The potential boosts for the flower shop, Sonia’s mother’s alteration business, and the other spots downtown would be huge,” I add.

  “She’s a smart cookie, and so are you for locking that woman down,” Walker says.

  “That is a fact. You should see the damn vision board hanging in my spare bedroom,” Payne says.

  “What the fuck is a vision board?” Truett asks.

  “I have no idea. It looks like a bunch of photos cut from magazines, paint swatches, and scribbling to me, but according to Charlotte, it is how she gives her dreams wings or some bullshit,” Payne answers.

  “If she and Sophie used one of those magic vision things when they were in New York, they must work because those two are a dynamic business duo, according to Elle,” Walker adds.

  “She’s the brains—that’s for sure. I had a little vision, and that woman came in and turned it into a full-blown dream come true. I’m just here to do her bidding. It’s been a lot of work, and I really do appreciate all the help you guys have given the last few months.”

  “You’re a lucky man. All my ex did was blast right through my dreams,” I gripe.

  “That’s because you chose the wrong woman.” Walker slaps me on the back.

  “Don’t I know it!” I agree.

  “Good thing is, there are plenty of other ones out there,” Truett chimes in.

  “How would you know?” I tease my brother.

  “I’ve heard rumors.” He shrugs.

  “I’ve been working with him on his pickup lines,” Walker shares.

  “Oh, damn, I’m sorry, Truett,” Payne consoles.

  “What? I’ll have you know, my pickup lines are a thing of legend around here. I could melt girls’ panties off with my voice alone. Payne here is just jealous that I scored twice as much as he did in our single days.” Walker tells Truett, “Now, go practice on the females.” He points toward the girls, all sitting and talking under the twinkling lights off to the side of the fire.

  Truett grins and heads for them.

  “That was mean. Those girls are going to chew him up and spit him out,” Payne says as he watches my brother pull up a stool and sit amid the cackling women.

  “He needs to learn how to handle rejection without crying like a little girl. It’s part of his training,” Walker tells us.

  Sonia

  We are sitting in front of the fire, talking about the fall festival plans and watching Beau toss beanbags at the cornhole board while George and Sue nip at his ankles.

  “Try to get it as close to the hole as possible, just like Daddy taught you with the horseshoes. Aim for the board, and the bag will slide,” Dallas calls out instructions as he swings with all his might.

  The bag hits the back of the board, past the hole, and glides right off, landing behind it.

  “Balls!” Beau yells and stomps across to retrieve the bags.

  “What did he just say?” I ask.

  Dallas rolls her eyes. “Balls. That’s what he says every time he gets frustrated. Guess where he heard it,” she says as her eyes slide to Elle.

  “Don’t look at me. I keep having to reprimand the one yelling balls in my house too.”

  “I swear, I’m going to kill your husband if he keeps teaching my son his debauchery.”

  Foster was already here when I arrived, and the boys were in a cutthroat game of ax throwing, so I sat with the girls and haven’t approached him.

  I keep sneaking glances in his direction, and I feel like I’m back in high school, sitting on the bleachers during a football game, hoping the cute boy who’s sitting a few rows down with his buddies will find his way over to say hello.

  Charlotte mentioned adding a reading nook in the tasting room, so Elle is telling us about the new bookcases Walker built and installed in their loft when a body sits down on a stool beside me.

  “What can make love to you like a tiger and wink at the same time?”

  My attention is drawn from Charlotte and Elle’s c
onversation to Truett, who has seated himself beside me.

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “What can make love to you like a tiger and wink at the same time?” he asks a bit louder.

  Both Charlotte and Elle turn to us in curiosity.

  “I have no idea,” I answer.

  Truett grins and winks at me. At least, I think that was a wink.

  It takes me a minute to pick up what he is trying to put down.

  “Oh my God, has that line ever worked for you?” I gasp.

  “I don’t know … yet.” He raises his eyebrows and grins a wicked grin.

  Charlotte bursts into a fit of giggles, and I try to keep my composure.

  “Um, as impressive as your proposition sounds, I’m going to have to say, it’s not going to happen.” I try to let him down easy.

  He frowns. “Was it the delivery?” he asks, and the question seems to be directed to the group in general.

  “You should work on the wink. It’s a little awkward. It’s a slow, weird wink, and you use both eyes, so it’s more of a blink, but I’d give the line itself a solid six,” Charlotte replies.

  He thinks about that for a moment, and then he nods. “I’ve always had a problem with executing a proper wink.”

  “And, honey, if you’re going to attempt something so brazen, you have got to really stick the landing,” I add.

  “Good to know. Thanks for the feedback, ladies,” he says as he stands.

  Walker walks up behind him and wraps his arm around his neck to lead him away.

  “Sorry, ladies, I got distracted from my wingman duties for five minutes, and this is what happens,” Walker calls over his shoulder.

  “You need a new teacher, Truett,” Charlotte calls.

  Walker throws his finger up behind his back.

  “He’s cute,” Elle says.

  “You are biased,” Charlotte quips.

  “Not Walker. I mean, Truett. Too bad we don’t know any sweet, single—”

  “Slightly desperate,” Charlotte interrupts.

  Elle slugs her arm. “I was going to say, nice. He’s handsome at least.”

  Charlotte shrugs.

  “He’s funny too. I’m sure life with him would never be boring,” I add.