Stone Hearts by Kelly Amber

Author:Kelly, Amber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: A Poplar Falls Novel
Publisher: Amber Kelly, LLC
Published: 2020-01-13T16:00:00+00:00

Dallas

I agreed to work for Faye this morning, being as I missed yesterday’s tips. I drop Beau off at school and head toward town.

Myer called last night after supper. He had just finished his day and wanted to check in and make sure Beau was still feeling okay.

They chatted for a few minutes before I took the phone. I asked how the rest of his day had gone, and he told me a few cows had gotten out of a fence and wandered onto the apple orchard, so he and Payne spent the last couple of hours wrangling them back onto his land.

I could hear how exhausted he was through the line, so I told him I had to get Beau to bed and let him go.

Before we hung up, he asked if he could see me tonight. I reminded him that Beau had his riding lesson this afternoon with Madeline and told him that I would be working there tonight to make up for missing this morning so that I could pick up the shift at Faye’s. He asked about the rest of the week, but I promised Sophie I’d help with last-minute party details on Wednesday and with setup on Thursday evening but that I’d see him at the party.

Friday seems so far away.

I tie my apron as I walk into Faye’s. Kim is filling the cream and sugar boxes on the tables, and Andy is prepping the kitchen.

“Morning, Dallas,” Kim chirps as I fall in behind her with jelly and pancake syrup.

“Morning. Thanks for yesterday, I truly appreciate you covering for me,” I offer.

“No problem. Lunch was a little busier, so it made up for the lousy morning.”

“Unlocking the doors in five, ladies,” Andy bellows from the pickup window.

We hurry and finish our prep work, and I start the coffeepots as Kim lets the waiting customers in.

“By the way, some guy came in here and asked about you yesterday,” she says as she waggles her eyebrow at me.

I frown. “Guy? What guy?”

She shrugs. “Didn’t catch his name. He said you two used to be a thing or something,” she continues.

“Really? What did he look like?”

“A couple inches taller than me, dark eyes, dark hair. He was a looker,” she says with a whistle.

“Russ Eastman?” I ask.

She thinks for a minute. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“We went out a couple of times the end of last year. Remember?”

“That’s right. I don’t think he ever came in here though, did he?”

“Maybe not,” I say. “He is about six-two with a close-cropped beard.”

“It was probably him then. This guy definitely had facial hair. Kind of wild, unkempt,” she says before walking off to take an order.

Unkempt? Russ? He must have had a hell of a Sunday night too.

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