Fragile Hearts (Poplar Falls Book 4)

by Amber Kelly

  I follow the farmer out past his dairy barns to the pen holding the goats in question.

  “Here they are. All three of them have had a dry cough for over a week. At first, I thought maybe it was just allergies, so I separated them from the rest of the herd to keep an eye on them, and we’ve been dumping their milk, just in case.”

  “All right, let’s have a look.”

  I enter the pen and thoroughly examine the animals.

  “Well?”

  “Looks like you have a lungworm infection,” I break the news to him.

  He removes his hat and scratches his head. “That’s what I figured.”

  “To be safe, we should treat the entire herd. If you get them rounded up, I’ll dose them today, and that should kill any adult parasites. Then, we’ll schedule a second dosing in two weeks to catch any of the larvae that might have hatched. I’ll prescribe a probiotic to balance out their digestive tract, and you’ll just add it to their feed for the next three days. We’ll also supplement with iron to quickly rebuild their blood cell count. You’ll have to dump a couple more times, and then they should be good as new. But we’ll give them the anti-parasitic again in six months because it can live that long out in your pasture.”

  “I only got one hand today, and he’s running the milking parlor. My other one is down with the flu. It’ll take me a bit to round the herd.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll run to my office to get the medication, and I’ll call and see if my assistant is available to help with the dosing.”

  He nods and walks off toward the barn. I take my phone out and dial Bellamy’s number.

  “Hello?” she asks tentatively.

  “Hi, Bellamy. I hate to ask this on a weekend, but I have to deworm a herd of approximately nine hundred dairy goats, and the farmer is short-staffed. I could use a second set of hands to help measure and administer the meds, if you’re available.”

  There is a long pause on the other end of the line.

  “Bellamy?”

  “One sec, Doc.”

  She covers the phone and speaks to someone in the background. All I hear is a mumbled conversation.

  “Doc?”

  “Still here,” I assure her.

  “I’m at Rustic Peak, but Elle says she and Walker can bring me to you when he gets done on the baler. He should be done in maybe fifteen minutes.”

  “That works. I have to swing by the office to get some supplies. They can drop you off there.”

  “Okay. See you shortly.”

  She disconnects the call.

  I should have said something, anything, after last night instead of just getting straight to business. Truth is, I’m not sure what to say. I’m not sure what she expects or what I expect.

  Shit.

  It’s been a long time since I had to try to decipher a woman’s thoughts. I forgot how damn hard and uncomfortable that feat is.

  Guess you’ll just have to play it by ear, Haralson, and hope you don’t fuck it up.

  I’m in my office when the bell sounds up front.

  Two seconds later, Walker’s presence graces my door. “What’s up, Doc?”

  I look up at his amused face. “How long have you been waiting to use that one?” I ask.

  “Forever, man. It just never felt right till now,” he says.

  My eyes move past him in search of Bellamy.

  “She’s over at the café, grabbing another coffee. She and Elle stayed up all night, gabbing, and they are both running on steam this morning,” he tells me.

  Damn, and here I am, dragging her into work unexpectedly.

  I sit back in my chair and think.

  “If she’s not feeling up to it, I can do this myself. It’ll just take longer, but I won’t charge for the extra time.”

  “Nah, it ain’t going to hurt her to see what it’s like to tie one on and have to drag her ass up and to work anyway. We have to do it all the time.”

  “But she isn’t supposed to work today,” I note.

  He shrugs. “She’ll live. How are you doing today?” he asks.

  I glance up and see genuine concern in his expression. “I’m good.”

  “You sure? If we need to have another one of those touchy-feely heart-to-hearts, we can. If that one didn’t sink in well enough, I mean. We don’t have them often, and we don’t talk about them afterward, but if you need to be set straight again—”

  “I’m good. Thanks,” I cut him off when I hear the bell again.

  He points his finger at me. “You’d better be. Or round two is going to happen,” he warns.

  “He’d better be what?” Bellamy’s head peeks around his large frame and into the office.

  “He’d better be ready to do shots with me tonight at the bonfire,” he answers oddly.

  “The bonfire?” I ask.

  “Yep, at Myer’s place. The girls are doing some Sippy thing over there, and we are tagging along and having moonshine by the moonlight.”

  “Sip and See. It’s where we all come over to meet the baby and drink cocktails,” Bellamy clarifies.

  “Yeah, whatever the hell she said. It’s just a fancy name for them to get together and fawn all over the new filly and get loaded.”

  “It kind of is. We don’t usually plan them around here, but Sophie says they are all the rage in New York, and she threw it together. I swear, city people have a party for everything,” she explains.

  “So, are you in, Doc?” Walker raises his eyebrows at me.

  “I, um, sure.” I give in.

  “Great! We need all the backup we can get to wrangle the henhouse once they start drinking and crying over whatever makes girls cry when they get together with babies.”

  Bellamy cocks her hip and glares at him. “We are not weepy females. You take that back.”

  “Correction: y’all weren’t weepy females, but since Sophie got here and once the babies started coming, you guys have turned into a hormonal mosh pit. You know it. It’s exhausting and a little terrifying at times,” Walker declares.

  For a moment, she looks like she is going to argue, and then she eases her posture.

  “Maybe,” she concedes in defeat.

  They are funny. Their relationship is foreign to me. Sure, I had my college buddies, and Annie and I had a few neighborhood couple friends we would barbecue with now and then, but these people know each other on a different level. They can tease each other. Push each other’s buttons and argue on a dime, but in the end, they have each other’s backs, no matter what. I’ve never had friends like that. No one to take my back when I lost her. No one to keep me going—apart from Mom. I hope they realize how lucky they are.

  “I’m ready if you are. I picked us up some coffee, and it’s in the Rover,” Bellamy interrupts my thoughts.

  “I’d better get back before Braxton realizes I’m gone and has a hissy fit,” Walker says as he turns and follows Bellamy to the door.

  I grab my bag and keys and follow them.

  “Does Braxton have hissy fits?” I ask Bellamy.

  “Not normally, but if anyone can inspire one from him, it’s Walker.”

  “Seven tonight, Doc. Don’t forget. And come hungry. I’m throwing burgers on the grill,” Walker yells as he hops in his truck and backs out.

  “It’s official. They’ve claimed you now,” Bellamy says as we watch him drive out of sight.

  “Claimed me?”

  “Yep. They don’t let too many newcomers in. I guess you passed the test,” she teases as she walks backward toward the truck, wearing a grin.

  “I’m honored,” I call after her.

  They’ve claimed me.

  Bellamy

  I had no idea how hard Brandt actually worked.

  I saw Dr. Sherrill out on the ranch my entire life, but he was just a grandfatherly figure who came out every now and again, checking an infected hoof or assisting in a struggling birth or spending branding day, vaccinating calves. He was in and out. I never accounted for the fact that S
toney Ridge was just one of the dozens of ranches in and around Poplar Falls. Then, there were countless farms and dairies. I never saw the endless stream of pet owners coming to the clinic or the late-night calls because of an injured animal or predator attack. I wasn’t aware of Saturday morning emergency parasite treatments for a large herd. He is literally on call twenty-four seven. He definitely needs full-time help and not just from Miss Elaine.

  It takes hours to finish up at Golden Mountain Dairy Farm. Brandt administers the medication after I calculate the dose based on each goat’s weight. It is time-consuming, but when we are done and Brandt has me write up an invoice for him without adding time and a half for the weekend call, the relief on Mr. Franklin’s face is priceless. He gives me a tight hug, and he shakes Brandt’s hand and thanks him profusely. Gratitude and respect are written all over him as we say our good-byes.

  I watch him as we pull out of the gate.

  “You’re a good man, Brandt Haralson.”

  He looks over at me. “Just doing my job.”

  I shake my head at him. “No, you did him a huge favor, and you didn’t have to. He looked worried, and you helped him out.”

  He looks straight ahead as he explains, “It’s the best thing about moving here from the city. Having my own practice gives me the ability to discern and read every situation. My office in Portland was owned by a medical conglomerate, and they were all about the bottom line. I got into this profession because I love animals and I want to help them. Turns out, I love people just as much, and I want to help them as well. My hands were tied before, and I watched humans go into debt, making sure their fur babies got the treatment they needed. It didn’t have to be that way. Now, I can make that call.”

  He takes a deep breath and continues, “It’s one of the reasons I haven’t hired another staff member yet. I want to keep us out of the red, so I can keep my fees low for the struggling ranches and farms in Poplar Falls.”

  I reach over and take his hand. “Well, you don’t have to pay me for today.”

  “That’s not what I was saying, Bellamy. I’m going to pay you for your work.”

  “I know it wasn’t, but I agree with you, and if you can work for free on a Saturday, so can I.”

  He shakes his head.

  “I mean it, and I don’t want any argument from you. However, you can buy me lunch, and we’ll call it even. Deal?”

  I can tell he doesn’t like it, but he has the sense to know I am equally as stubborn and that he might as well give in.

  “Yes, ma’am. Lunch it is.”

  We stop and eat on our way back to town. Neither of us brings up last night as we eat, but there is also no awkwardness between us. We fall into an easy conversation, and I tell him all about the ruse we are playing on Doreen in order to pull off the surprise. He fills me in on his telephone call with Miss Elaine and about her adventures in Oregon.

  Before we know it, we’ve been sitting for hours, just talking.

  “Yikes, Dallas is expecting me soon,” I say as I look at my phone.

  “I didn’t mean to keep you so long. I can’t believe the time,” he muses.

  “That’s because I’m such great company,” I tease.

  “That has to be it,” he agrees. “Tell you what. Why don’t we swing by my place so I can change, and then I’ll get you home and drive you to the party?”

  “Sounds like a good plan to me, Doc.”

  Brandt

  We stop by the clinic so that I can drop off my medical bag and change clothes.

  I leave Bellamy waiting in my office while I run upstairs to the apartment and quickly freshen up.

  When I make it back down, I find her standing in front of my bookcase, holding a framed photo.

  I walk behind and look at it with her over her shoulder.

  She is reading the inscription on the back.

  Brandy and me, celebrating! Ross University School of Veterinary Medicine, Class of 2016.

  “Brandy?” she asks.

  “That’s Annie and me. We met in college, at a coffee shop on campus. We were both waiting for our coffees. The barista had misspelled my name, and they kept calling out an order for Brandy. When I finally realized it was my latte, it was cold, and I was late for my next class and very annoyed. She was waiting behind me and thought it was hysterical. We ended up at a table, talking for hours that day. She called me Brandy from that moment on. The day the photo was taken, we were celebrating my acceptance into the veterinarian program at Ross and her new job with the City of Portland’s Department of Human Services.”

  “Annie?”

  “My wife. She died a few years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she says softly.

  “Me too.”

  “A vet and a social worker. Pets and children. Sounds like you two were a match made in heaven.”

  “I thought so. She worked with teens in the foster care system. It was her passion to help them find placement with good families.”

  “What happened to her?”

  I walk behind my desk, and she turns, still holding the photo to her chest.

  “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business. I’m being a nosy female.” She tries to let me off the hook.

  I don’t know why, but I want her to know.

  “She was killed by a junkie, leaving a restaurant one night.”

  I hear her quick intake of breath. She carefully places the frame back on the shelf.

  “Are you ready to go?” she asks, effectively changing the subject, and I’m grateful.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I drive her home, so she can shower and change.

  I’m waiting with Mrs. Wilson on the porch, explaining that I offered to be her ride to the Sippy thing so she could drink and enjoy herself, when Winston and Myer come up from the barn.

  “You two want some lemonade?” she offers them.

  “Nah, I’m heading out to go help Dallas with Beau and Faith, so she can get ready for tonight,” Myer informs her.

  “Oh, wonderful. Brandt here is escorting your sister to the party,” she says with a huge smile on her face.

  Myer’s eyes come to mine. “Glad you’re joining us, Doc. Dallas has been cooped up for weeks now, and she is bursting with excitement that everyone is coming by. She’ll be pleased to see you,” he says.

  “Thanks for the invite. Although I think it was Walker who extended the invitation without your knowledge.”

  “You don’t need an invite. You’re always welcome to anything we have at the house,” he insists.

  “Of course you are,” Mrs. Wilson chimes in.

  Winston just winks at me as he sits beside his wife, and she pours him a glass of lemonade.

  “I’m off.” Myer gives a little salute and takes off toward the driveway.

  I feel awkward as hell, standing here with Bellamy’s parents, waiting for her to get ready. It’s like I’m a teenager, coming to pick up my date for the prom. My hands are just as sweaty.

  “Relax, Doc. Take a load off. Bells is going to take a while to get ready. I don’t know why, but it takes women three times as long to pull on clothes and shoes as it does us. It’s baffling,” Winston instructs, and I take a seat in one of the rockers opposite them.

  “I received a telephone call from your mother last night,” Mrs. Wilson tells me. “She’s really enjoying her time with the grandkids, but she is ready to come home. She says the sounds of the city and all the ornery folks are driving her mad.”

  “I reckon she has assimilated to mountain life,” I comment.

  “She has. Plus, she misses bingo night and the ladies’ auxiliary meetings. I think she plans to join the church when she gets back,” she fills me in.

  “She certainly does seem to enjoy the fellowship,” I agree.

  “And we enjoy her.” She beams.

  I’m so happy Mom has found peace and happiness here. I felt selfish, dragging her away from everyone she knew to move here with me, but she insiste
d that she come along when I told her I was moving.

  “Your sister has Wes and the kids and your cousins here. She’ll be fine. I’m coming along to make sure you are fine. Besides, I could use a change of scenery myself, and I hear the Colorado Mountains are divine. If I don’t like it there, I’ll just move back in a year.”

  I guess she has decided to stay after all.

  “Bellamy tells me you purchased the Sugarman Homestead,” Beverly continues.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She whistles. “It’s a lovely place, but it is definitely going to need a lot of work,” she utters.

  “I’m sure you are telling the boy something he already knows, Bev,” Winston interjects.

  “Oh, you hush. I’m just making small talk.”

  “You’re just being nosy,” he corrects.

  “I am not,” she snaps.

  “She is,” he says to me.

  I decide to go ahead and spill, so they don’t argue. “It is going to be a project, but I’m looking forward to it. Bellamy actually helped me get started, tearing out some of the old cabinetry. Contractors begin the remodel in the kitchen this week. Hopefully, that part will be done by the time Mom gets back.”

  “Bellamy is helping, you say?” Her question is laced with curiosity.

  “I don’t know if she wants to do anything else, but she was great at tearing things up.”

  Winston lets out a guttural laugh. “She always has been a little female wrecking ball,” he muses.

  “I’m sure she’ll love to keep helping. She’s always adored that house,” Mrs. Wilson adds.

  “I think you’ve made your point, dear. No need to keep pushing and scare the boy off,” Winston advises.

  “I don’t know what in the devil you’re going on about,” she says to him, exasperated.

  He looks at me and rolls his eyes. “Sure you don’t, dear.”

  She opens her mouth, preparing to hurl her retort, when the door swings open and Bellamy appears.

  She is wearing a blue-and-white gingham halter-top romper with navy sandals. Her hair is curled and flowing down her back. And a pair of sunglasses are shoved haphazardly on her head.