Stone Hearts

by Kelly, Amber

We arrived at Momma’s bakery for the bridal party luncheon about half an hour ago. Vivian had a restaurant in Cedar Ridge cater in food for the eight of us. Apparently, Faye’s Diner does not serve sufficient luncheon foods. So, we are sitting here with teacups and tiny finger sandwiches of which it will take an entire tray just to fill us up.

  The bridesmaids consist of me, Charlotte, and Elle, but Doreen, Ria, and Momma were also invited. Madeline should be here, too, but she and Sophie agreed that it might be awkward for her and Vivian, so she decided to sit this one out.

  The board has photos of chalkboard signs; tables set with burlap runners and wildflower centerpieces; mason jars with ribbons, holding candles; chalk-paint signs for the food tables; wine-cork place-card holders and the like.

  “Elegant farmhouse, you say?” I ask as I take it all in.

  “Yes. It’s an upscale-rustic motif. Classy country, like my Sophia,” Vivian explains as she smiles lovingly at her daughter.

  Charlotte elbows me in the ribs. “See, I told you bougie cowgirl was a thing,” she says with a wink.

  “Apparently so,” I reply.

  “I actually like all of that, Mom,” Sophie says in astonishment. She and Viv have disagreed at almost every turn on the wedding details.

  Vivian’s eyes tear up, and she nods. “I thought about it. It’s your big day, and I want both you and Braxton to be happy with everything. So, I called the wedding planner, Niles, and told him to scrap all we had planned and to start from scratch. I told him my daughter is elegant and beautiful, but her fiancé is rugged and handsome, so he put the two together and came up with this,” she gushes.

  Charlotte leans in from the side and whispers to me, “Wow, I can’t believe Mrs. Marshall gave in that easily.”

  “Me neither. She must be going soft. Either that or she’s worried Braxton won’t let her see her grandchildren if she makes him eat sushi at his reception,” I say on a giggle.

  Next, we discuss the plans for the engagement party, which is next weekend at the ranch. It will be tented, and there will be a DJ and a makeshift wooden dance floor. The same restaurant that brought over these pitiful sandwiches is catering, but Viv assures Sophie that they have an excellent and substantial buffet coming.

  “Good, because if you try to feed our boys tea sandwiches, there will probably be a riot,” Doreen informs her.

  “Butch is providing iced-down kegs, and the restaurant will have both a red and white wine selection,” Sophie adds.

  “Red and white wine,” I say as I wrinkle my nose.

  “Yes. If you want anything else, you’ll have to brown-bag.”

  “You should try the wine, Dallas. I picked a couple of excellent vintages. It might surprise you,” Vivian suggests.

  I’m not betting on it.

  Once we finish our lunch and motif discussions, we move on to the dresses.

  Charlotte, Elle, and I try ours on first. They are a lovely, sleeveless A-line chiffon in sienna with an antique lace overlay. Perfect to pair with cowgirl boots.

  “Oh my,” Doreen gushes. “You girls look stunning.”

  “The color is perfect. I don’t think any of you will even need alterations,” Ria adds.

  “I gave the designer their exact measurements, and he is a master.” Vivian beams. “Okay, girls, go sit. Don’t spill anything on those dresses. Doreen, Ria, you want to help me get Sophie into hers?” Vivian asks as she shoos us to the tables.

  After about twenty minutes, the aunts return, and I can tell they have both been crying. Then, Sophie comes in with Vivian tailing her, holding the train of her gown off the floor.

  The gown is a fitted vintage lace bodice with half-sleeves and a full champagne silk skirt and train. I have never seen anything so beautiful in my life. With Sophie’s gorgeous blonde hair pulled up and her tanned skin aglow, she looks like she belongs on a runway.

  “What do you think?” she asks nervously.

  “It’s exquisite,” I breathe.

  She looks down and smooths the front before looking back up.

  “You think?” she asks again, her eyes growing wet.

  “What I think is that, when Braxton Young sees you in that dress, he is going to march down the aisle, pick you up, and throw you over his shoulder, caveman-style, before running off with you,” I exclaim.

  “Oh, no, no, no, he can’t do that,” Vivian states firmly.

  We all giggle.

  “The men will be wearing dark jeans, crisp white shirts with French cuffs, and sienna-colored silk ties, as will Beau—although his is a bow tie. I have the ties and shirts with me,” Vivian explains.

  “And I had a matching outfit made for Hawkeye,” Sophie adds.

  Beau is going to be the ring bearer. He’s excited to be dressing up like Braxton, Payne, Myer, and Walker. Hawkeye is going to walk with him down the aisle.

  “Sophia, are you seriously going to have that dog be part of the ceremony?” Vivian asks in disbelief.

  “Yes, Mom. We’ve discussed this. He had a big role in Braxton and me getting together, and we want him to be a part of our big day.”

  Vivian rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest any further.

  After we finish with the fashion show, Vivian gathers all our dresses and carefully bags them back up to take to her hotel for safekeeping because we obviously can’t be trusted with them.

  I pick Beau up from school, and we head home for supper. I help him with his homework, and then we get ready for bed.

  He climbs in, and I settle in beside him.

  “How was your day, baby?” I ask him the same question I ask every night before I start his bedtime story.

  “Great!” he answers.

  “Tell me all about it,” I prompt.

  “Mrs. Perry taught us how to spell our names in crayon. I got mine right the first time ’cause Nana already showed me how. I got a gold star on my locker for being quiet at naptime. Josie shared her chocolate pudding with me at lunch, and I get to take Fritz to school on Monday for show-and-tell,” he rattles off his list of good. “Oh, and I made a new friend on the playground. His name is Stanley.”

  “Stan Lee or Stanley?” I ask him to clarify.

  “Stanley.”

  I don’t remember any kids in his class by that name.

  “Is he new?” I ask.

  “He was just visiting.”

  “Visiting? He visited your class?”

  “Yes. He has a kid who goes to school too.”

  “Oh, he’s an adult?”

  “Yep.”

  “Whose father is he?”

  He just shrugs as he yawns big. I make a mental note to ask his teacher next week and grab a book off his shelf.

  I only get a chapter into Fly Guy’s latest adventure before he is fast asleep.

  I tuck him in tight, kiss his forehead, and tiptoe out.

  I grab my phone and dial Myer’s number.

  “Hello?” His sleepy voice comes over the phone.

  I look over to the clock above the television and see it’s nine o’clock.

  “Crap, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late,” I apologize.

  Ranchers keep early-to-bed and early-to-rise hours.

  “It’s okay. I wasn’t asleep yet. What’s up?”

  “Beau had his first riding lesson this week. It’s all he’s talked about for days,” I tell him.

  “That’s great,” he says.

  The line goes silent. I don’t really have anything else to say.

  “That’s actually all I had to tell you. He’s just so proud, and he’s asked me a million times if I told you. He wants you to come watch him one day. I know it’s hard with the timing. He goes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, right after school,” I babble.

  He stops me. “Dallas?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll be there. Tell him I’ll come by next week and watch him ride.”

  “Thanks,” I say softly.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I hang on
the line a few more minutes and then offer him a good night.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Apparently, we’re all going camping,” he informs me.

  “We are?”

  “Yep. Braxton called Payne this evening, and Payne called me.”

  “Sounds like fun. I hope Momma can keep Beau.”

  “If not, bring him. He can sleep in the tent with me and Payne.”

  I smile at that. They are never bothered to have my little man tag along.

  “Okay. Night,” I say again.

  “Good night, Dal.”

  Myer

  “Myer, you in here, son?” Pop calls from the entrance to the barn.

  “Back here, Pop,” I answer as I continue to load bags of grain onto the trailer.

  Most of our cows are grazing cows, and they get the majority of their food off the land, but we do supplement with a hay and grain mixture on Saturdays for added nutrients.

  “Whatcha got left for today?” he asks as he approaches.

  “Just gotta get this feed into the troughs and ride the fence before I call it a day,” I answer.

  “Bells is coming in for spring break. Any way you can swing by and pick her up this afternoon?”

  Bellamy is my little sister. She’s in her last year at the University of Chicago. Swing by and pick her up means a four-hour round-trip trek to Denver and back.

  I look up at him with a grimace. “What time does she get in?”

  “Plane lands around three p.m. I’d go, but your momma took my truck into town for her ladies’ auxiliary meeting down at the church, and I’m not sure she’ll be back in time.”

  His excuse is flimsy at best. We have other trucks, but I know he is not a fan of long road trips anymore. His eyesight isn’t what it used to be. Winston Wilson is a proud man though, and he’ll never admit it.

  “You ride the fence, and I’ll go get her after I load the troughs,” I suggest.

  “Deal,” he agrees.

  “You gonna be home for supper tonight?” he asks.

  That means Momma plans to cook a big dinner for Bellamy, and they’d like me to be there.

  My cabin is on our ranch about half a mile from my parents’ house. I usually fend for myself, but occasionally, I still join them for meals.

  “I’m supposed to meet the guys down at the river. We’re going camping tonight. I suppose I could eat a quick bite with you all before I head that way.”

  “Bev would like that. She’s planning on making all of your and Bells’s favorites. Eat around six p.m.,” he throws the blame on Momma before slapping me on the back and heading to the stables to saddle a horse and ride the perimeter.

  Stoney Ridge is a thirty-eight-hundred-acre cattle ranch my family has owned for generations. We are about half the size of Rustic Peak. Pop and I run the show, and we employ a half-dozen ranch hands and hire seasonal workers during calving season. We work twelve-hour days, seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-five days a year. Sometimes, those days are grueling, and sometimes, they are laid-back, but they are never boring. The work is hard but satisfying. I like working with my hands, and I love the animals. Respect them. Take care of them, love them, and feed them until it’s time for them to feed us. Our beef cattle are of the highest quality, and we make a good profit when we go to auction every year.

  It might not have been my dream to work the ranch when I was younger, but I wouldn’t have it any other way now. This is what I was born to do, and I’m damn good at it.

  After I finish with the feed, I take a quick shower, and then I head to Denver. Traffic is fairly light since it is Saturday, and the drive up is easy. I pull into the pickup lane and spot Bells with her hair piled on top of her head and earbuds in her ears, pulling her suitcase behind her.

  I throw the truck in park and hop out.

  “Hey, big brother,” she squeals as she spots me and comes running. “I didn’t know you were coming to get me. I thought Momma and Pop were.”

  She wraps her arms around my middle, and I squeeze her tight and kiss the top of her head.

  “Momma was busy at the church, and Pop is waiting to help her with supper. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving!”

  “Good. She has a feast planned.”

  I load her suitcase and open the door for her.

  “How are classes?” I ask once we are back on the road.

  “Good, I guess. I’m on the homestretch now. Only a couple months left, and I’m done,” she says with relief.

  “Ready to come home, huh?”

  “I don’t think I can survive another Chicago winter. I mean, Colorado can be bad, but Chicago is insane. This past year, there was a winter advisory, and we were told not to leave our homes. With the wind chill, the temperature was negative twenty-five. That’s almost double freezing,” she says with her eyes wide.

  “Sounds awful,” I agree.

  “It was. Classes were canceled for over a week. Chicago is great in the warm months. It’s a really fun city, but we were trapped inside for days.”

  “So, what’s the plan when you finish school? You going to come back to Poplar Falls?”

  She shrugs. “I haven’t decided. I can use my degree in environmental science to work with the farmers and ranchers near home, or I could apply for a position at the Denver Zoo.”

  “That’d be fun,” I encourage.

  “Yeah, and if I go that route, I could work a few days a week from home and commute to the zoo the other days. That way, I have the option of living in Poplar Falls or maybe somewhere in between. I’ve missed home though. I miss the ranch, you guys, Elle, and Sonia.”

  The kid has been homesick since the day she left. I’m proud of her for sticking it out and finishing.

  “Speaking of which, we are all camping down by the river tonight. Braxton and Sophie and her friend from New York, Elle and Sonia, Dallas and Payne, Silas and Chloe and Walker. You want to come with us?”

  Her eyes light up. I knew she would.

  “Yes. That sounds like fun. I’m dying to meet Sophie. Elle has told me all about her.”

  “Good. After supper, we have to slip out before Momma realizes what’s happening and tries to guilt you into staying home with her.”

  “I’m here for over a week. She can have me later.”

  “Two weeks? That means you’ll be here for the engagement party and Stoney Ridge’s branding party.”

  “I know. It’s gonna be a great spring break,” she says with a grin.

  Dallas

  “You sure you don’t mind him staying the night?” I ask Daddy as I drop Beau off with him.

  “Of course not. When Dottie gets home from the ladies’ meeting, we’re going to eat supper and then make homemade ice cream,” he says as he cuts his eyes to Beau.

  “Ice cream? Yay!” Beau screams in delight.

  “What do you say you and I go pick some fresh strawberries for our ice cream before Nana gets home?”

  “Okay, let me go get my gloves and bucket.” He lets go of my hand and races into my parents’ house.

  “That boy sure loves farming,” I muse as I hand Daddy his overnight bag.

  “It’s in his blood,” Daddy agrees.

  Beau comes running back out with a bucket about as big as he is with gardening gloves on his hands.

  “Come give me a kiss,” I command.

  He drops the bucket on the porch and comes to me, and I bend down on one knee.

  “You be a good boy for Nana and Pop-Pop tonight, okay?”

  He nods his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Don’t give them any trouble when they say it’s bedtime. Make sure you brush your teeth and say your prayers too.”

  “I promise, Mommy,” he says as he wraps his little arms around my neck and kisses my cheek over and over.

  “I love you the mostest,” I tell him, and he grins.

  “No, I love you the mostest,” he replies.

  “Y’all have fun,” I say as I stand and kiss Daddy
’s cheek.

  They wave to me as I drive off. Hand in hand, they head out into the field.

  Two peas in a pod.

  I pull up in front of Sophie’s place, and it looks like the gang is all here. I park my truck out of the way and grab my overnight bag and sleeping bag from the bed. I toss them in the gravel and reach for the tent.

  “You need some help?” I hear Myer’s voice behind me as I tug.

  “Yes, please. This sucker is heavier than it looks,” I grunt.

  He reaches over top of me, easily plucks it from the tailgate, and tosses it over his shoulder.

  I look up at him with a scowl. “Nobody likes a show-off,” I huff.

  He laughs as he carries the tent over to his truck and tosses it in. I follow with my bags and add them to the pile already settled in.

  “Myer, you got room for another cooler in your truck? Mine is full, and Walker’s is loaded down with firewood and the grill,” Braxton calls from the porch.

  “Yeah, bring it on,” he answers.

  “Do I need to take my truck too?” I ask as Brax sets the cooler on Myer’s tailgate.

  “Nah, we should be good. You, Charlotte, Bellamy, and Myer are in this truck. Sophie, Elle, Sonia, Hawkeye and I are in my truck. Walker’s got Payne, Silas, and Chloe in his truck. That’s everyone, isn’t it?” he asks as he counts heads.

  “That’s all of us,” Myer answers him.

  “I didn’t know Bellamy was home,” I say to Myer as he shuts the tailgate.

  “Yep, I picked her up at the airport this afternoon. It’s her spring break. She’s somewhere in the house with Elle and Sonia.”

  Those three have been thick as thieves for as long as I can remember. It’s odd, seeing Elle and Sonia without Bells tagging along.

  Once Silas and Chloe finally make it and we’re all packed, the caravan heads out.

  Our favorite place to camp is in a clearing at the bottom of the gap by the river’s edge. We’ve all been coming here since we were in high school. It has a large, open space for all our tents, a huge stoned-in area for a campfire, horseshoe pits, a rope swing secured to one of the large Ponderosa pine trees that balances over the water, and an outhouse that Braxton and Walker dug out and built for us in the woods about a hundred feet from the clearing.