Stone Hearts Read online

  Copyright © 2019 by Amber Kelly

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative Covers

  Cover Image: Michaela Mangum, Michaela Mangum Photography

  Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  Proofreader: Judy Zweifel, Judy’s Proofreading

  Formatter: Champagne Book Design

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Epilogue

  Preview of Rustic Hearts

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Acknowledgments

  Other Books

  About the Author

  To James, my bonus dad. All it takes to be a dad is love.

  Dallas

  Six Years Ago

  Sweet Jesus, this little monster is ripping his way out of me. I’ve never felt pain like this before. When he finally makes it, he’s getting his first time-out for trying to take all his momma’s insides with him as he exits my body.

  “Breathe, Dallas,” Momma coaxes.

  I tightly squeeze her hand as another contraction hits me like a freight train. The pain shoots down my spine and explodes in my pelvis.

  “I am breathing, Momma,” I scream.

  “No, you’re not, sweetheart,” she says gently.

  I cut my eyes to her and bite through gritted teeth. “Yes. I. Am.”

  “Whoa, I think her head spun around on that one. Did you hear that demon inside her?”

  I whip my head around to my stupid brother, Payne, who has his iPhone pointed directly at me.

  Why in the hell did I agree to have him in the room while I expelled a human torture device from my vagina?

  “You shut the hell up and remember to stay north of the Mason–Dixon Line with that thing, asshole,” I spew in his direction.

  He just grins at me.

  “Payne, dear, I think we might have to switch.”

  Momma is gently trying to tug her hand from my death grip. Her expression is one of intense pain, and the tips of her fingers are starting to turn purple. I let go as the contraction eases, and she hurries back from my bedside.

  “Sure thing, Momma. I can handle it,” Payne says as he hands the phone off to our mother. He plops down in the seat beside me and raises his right arm to me in an arm-wrestling challenge.

  The doctor looks up from between my legs and pipes in, “He’s crowning.”

  “Well, it’s about time. I thought he had decided to stay in there until college,” I spit out just as another contraction starts to ripple through me.

  I grab hold of Payne’s hand and nearly stand up in the bed. He starts trying to play thumb war with me, and I reach over and grab his thumb with my other hand and bend it back as hard as I can.

  “Shit!” he yells. “I think you broke my thumb. That hurt like hell.”

  “Oh, really? Is a head the size of a bowling ball trying to break its way out of your pee hole? No? Then, suck it up, pansy-ass!”

  “Children. Let’s be nice. We don’t want the baby watching his birth video and hearing you two cursing and fighting,” Momma interjects.

  “Give me one more big push, Dallas,” the doctor commands before I can release my wrath on my mother.

  Payne stands and grabs my hand harder. “Come on, sis. You’ve got this. Little man is almost here. One, two, three …” he counts as I bear down as hard as I can and push with all the strength I have left.

  “He’s out,” the nurse excitedly announces just as I hear the first soft cry ring through the room.

  “Oh my goodness, he’s perfect!” Momma cries as I try to muster the energy to raise my head and look at him.

  Before I have a chance, the doctor asks if anyone wants to cut the cord. I look up at Payne, and he is pale as a ghost.

  Momma lays her hand on my shoulder and steps around to the doctor. “I do,” she says tearfully.

  A few seconds later, a gooey, bald bright red mess of screaming baby is laid on my chest.

  His eyes are closed, and he is unhappy.

  “Hey now, mister,” I coo at him as I bring my hand to his face. “What’s all that racket about? I’m the one who had her hoo-ha ripped in half, not you.”

  His eyes pop open as he starts to settle, and his little head moves to bring his face closer to my voice.

  “There you are,” I whisper. “You must be the one who’s been playing soccer with my bladder the last three months, huh? You’ve already bought yourself extra chores until you’re twenty-one, buddy.”

  He grunts at me and blinks his eyes shut.

  “Already ignoring me, I see.”

  One eye opens back up, and what looks like a faint smile but is more than likely gas passes over him.

  “Playing opossum. Mommy is onto you, Beau Stovall.” I cradle him in my arms and plant a kiss on his forehead before nestling him under my chin. “It’s you and me, kiddo. We’re in this together from here on out. I will love you and protect you with my last breath. Oh, baby boy, we’re going to have great adventures, you and me.”

  I hear a sniffle and look to Momma, who is staring affectionately at the two of us.

  I hope that I’m able to be half the mother to him as she has been to me.

  Dallas

  Present

  “Okay, there we go.” I step back to take a look at my work.

  Beau stands in front of me in his homemade Fly Guy costume for Book Character Day at school. The getup consists of white-and-black bug eyes made of small Styrofoam
plates, construction paper adhered to a headband, and cardboard wings attached to a set of Daddy’s old suspenders, paired with a brown turtleneck and cords.

  He patiently waits, grinning, as I make my assessment, and he is undeniably the cutest little snaggle-toothed bug I have ever seen.

  “Perfect!” I squeal as he beams at me.

  I gather his lunch box and shoes as he runs to his room to grab his backpack.

  “How am I going to get my coat on and get in the truck with my wings?” he asks as he runs back into the living room.

  “You’ll have to remove the suspenders and ask Mrs. Perry to help you put them back on when you get to your classroom.”

  He snaps them off and carefully tucks them under his arm. Once we are in the truck, I start our daily routine.

  “What day is today, Beau?”

  “The best day ever!” he replies.

  “Why is it the best day ever?”

  “Because we woke up this morning,” he answers.

  “What are we gonna do today?” I ask.

  “We are going to be kind and give everyone our brightest smile.”

  “What aren’t we gonna do?”

  “Let anyone steal our shine.”

  “How much do I love you?”

  “All the way up to the moon and back.”

  “That’s right, baby,” I confirm and put my right hand in the air for a high five, which he immediately returns.

  God, I love this kid.

  When I turn the key, the engine makes a horrible grinding noise, and then it rumbles before it stops.

  Oh no, please don’t do this right now.

  I try again. The lights on the dashboard start flashing dimly, and the engine makes a clicking sound but doesn’t turn over at all.

  I groan, close my eyes, and lightly bang my head against the steering wheel.

  A few minutes later, two little arms come around my neck from behind and squeeze.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Mommy.”

  I take a deep breath and turn my head to look at his earnest face. His round glasses have slipped down on his nose, and his big brown eyes are fixed on me. I remind myself that this tiny human takes his emotional cues from me, and I don’t have the luxury of breaking down. So, I smile at him.

  “You’re right; it’s going to be okay. In fact, I think this old truck just gave me extra time with my favorite boy in the whole wide world this morning.”

  He beams at me and sits back down as I fish my cell out of the bag. Momma already left for the bakery today, and Payne and Daddy left at the crack of dawn to meet the crop-dusting plane. I could call Sophie, but it would take her a while to get here, and I don’t want Beau to be that late on Book Character Day. He’d be devastated if he missed the group class photo. So, I press Myer’s name saved in my favorites in my phone and pray he isn’t out on the ranch where he can’t answer.

  “Hey, Dal.” His deep, rich voice comes over the line, and I release a relieved breath.

  “Hey, Myer. I hate to call this early. I know you’re probably busy with the calves, but my truck has crapped out on me again, and I need help getting Beau to school. Momma’s at the bakery, and Daddy and Payne are having the fields dusted today.”

  “Pop can handle things for an hour or so. I’ll swing by and pick you guys up in ten.”

  Myer Wilson is my brother, Payne’s best friend. His family owns Stoney Ridge Ranch, which backs up to my family’s farm and orchard.

  “Thanks, Myer,” I say as I collapse in relief.

  “No problem. See you soon.”

  He disconnects, and I turn to Beau.

  “Looks like you and I get to have a slice of Nana’s apple cake before school.”

  “Yay! It really is the best day ever, Mommy,” he exclaims before he opens his door, hops out, and runs to the porch of our home.

  It’s a modest home. My daddy and Uncle Jimbo turned one of the old grain silos behind my parents’ farmhouse into a one-bedroom loft home for my son and me when my ex-husband was sent to prison on felony drug charges while I was pregnant with Beau. He has the bedroom, and I sleep in the loft that overlooks the open living room and kitchen. It’s not big, but it’s not tiny either. It fits us just right, and we love it.

  I follow Beau inside, help him pop his wings back on so I can snap a few pictures and then I slice us each a piece of cake and pour us a glass of milk. He regales me with made-up stories of Fly Guy’s coming adventures of the day while we wait for Myer to arrive.

  The knock comes just as we finish up.

  “It’s open,” I call as I rinse our plates.

  Myer swings it open, and his blue eyes sweep the room. When they land on Beau, he fakes a start. “Whoa, you scared me there for a minute. Are you a monster?”

  “No, silly. I’m Fly Guy. I’m not scary at all. I’m a good friend,” Beau informs him.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Fly Guy. I heard you need a ride to school, but that can’t be right. You have wings so you can fly yourself there.”

  Beau giggles. “They aren’t real. See?” He turns around to show Myer the wings stapled to the suspenders. Then, he turns back around and lifts the big eyes off of his head. “It’s me, Myer, Beau Stovall. I’m just pretending to be Fly Guy.”

  “Well, look at that. It is Beau Stovall. That’s a good costume. You sure had me fooled.”

  “I tricked him, Mommy. I bet I’ll win the first-place prize!” Beau says excitedly.

  “In that case, we’d better get you to school right away,” I say in answer.

  He nods his head and races past Myer and out the open door.

  “Thank you for rescuing me. Again,” I offer as I grab my keys and purse from the kitchen island and follow.

  “Not a big deal, Dal,” he replies warmly as I ease past him.

  He shuts the door and takes my keys from my hand to lock the dead bolt behind us as I wrangle my buzzing fly into the backseat of his white Silverado.

  A few beats later, he climbs behind the steering wheel in the extended cab and passes me my keys.

  “Go ahead and take your truck key off that ring. I’ll drop you off at Rustic Peak, and I’ll come back and have a look under the hood after lunch today.”

  Rustic Peak Ranch belongs to my best friend, Sophie’s family, and I work there part-time, helping her keep the ranch’s books.

  “You don’t mind?” I ask as I gladly hand over the key.

  “Nope. Hopefully, it’s something Payne and I can fix ourselves this time. If not, I’ll hitch it to my truck, and we’ll haul it over to Jackie’s garage this evening.”

  Ugh, just what I need. Another repair bill.

  “Don’t start worrying now. It could be nothing,” he says, reading the look of concern on my face.

  “Yeah, Mommy. Don’t let that truck steal your shine,” Beau chimes in from the backseat.

  “I don’t think it’s possible to steal your momma’s shine, little man,” Myer replies while looking at Beau in the rearview mirror.

  A warm feeling pours over me, and I decide they’re right. Me worrying about what’s wrong with that old horse of a truck isn’t going to change a single thing, so I might as well have myself a fabulous Monday. I’ll figure out how to pay for the repairs once I know what they are.

  I take my sunglasses from my purse and slide them on, and then I roll the window down and let the cool spring air waft through my hair as I plant a big old smile on my face.

  Dallas

  “Hey. Sorry I’m late,” I apologize as I plop into one of the chairs at the kitchen table at Sophie’s family’s house.

  Sophie and Braxton, her fiancé, live in a loft apartment above the big barn for the time being. He’s currently building their new home about half a mile behind said barn. He hopes to have it finished, so they’ll be able to move in after their wedding, which is scheduled for the second weekend in June. That’s just over three months from now. I don’t know how he is going to accomplish such a feat with branding s
eason coming up fast and the wedding date even quicker, but Braxton Young is as stubborn as they come. If anyone can pull it off, he can.

  Doreen, Sophie’s aunt and kind of the matriarch of the Lancaster family, sets a cup of coffee in front of me. “It’s fine. Sophie has been on the phone with Charlotte most of the morning anyway. She’s flying in this weekend to see the ranch and meet everyone ahead of the engagement party. Then, Vivian will come in sometime next week for the festivities. She’s bringing all the bridesmaid dresses with her for the fittings, and Elle’s friend, Sonia’s mom will be doing the alterations.”

  Thank goodness.

  Vivian, Sophie’s mom, was not a fan of the idea of trusting our dresses to a local seamstress, but flying to New York for fittings and adjustments was just not in the cards—or the budget—for Elle or me. Vivian finally gave in but not on the wedding gown itself. Poor Sophie will have to make at least two more trips to New York before the wedding—which is precisely why Vivian insisted the dress be kept in New York. She is still butt hurt that Sophie decided to stay in Poplar Falls with her dad and Braxton instead of returning to the city.

  “Awesome. I can’t wait to meet my citified doppelganger,” I say as I sip the coffee I need so badly.

  Sophie has told me on more than one occasion that Charlotte, her New York best friend, and I are like peas in a pod.

  “I’m sure if Sophie loves her, we’ll all love her. Sophie has excellent taste in friends,” Aunt Doreen assures me with a wink just as the back door swings open, and Sophie walks in.

  “Coffee. Yes, I need coffee,” she whines as she slides into the chair beside me.

  “Looks like your day has started as spectacularly as mine,” I surmise.

  She groans into the mug Doreen just set in front of her. “My mother is driving me crazy over this wedding. I swear it’s like I have to wrestle her over every little detail.”

  “It’s your wedding, Sophie. You need to be happy, not your mother. You’re going to have to put your foot down,” Ria, Sophie’s other aunt, adds as she walks in, carrying a basket of vegetables she must have just cut from her garden.

  “I know. That’s what I was doing on the phone with her for the last hour. She wants to fly some five-star chef and his staff down on Stanhope’s company jet to cater the reception. That’s ridiculous, right? All Braxton wants is a pig pickin’ catered by Walker’s uncle. I mean, we are getting married on a ranch in spring. His groomsmen are wearing jeans and cowboy boots with their dress shirts and vests. I don’t need a Michelin star chef serving caviar. No one will eat that here.”