Knitted Hearts - Amber Kelly Page 0,20

I need to get out and do more.

I drop Elle off at her and Walker’s house and head home. A long, hot shower and a glass of wine are just what I need.

It’s such a beautiful night. You know the kind—fall is in the air, the moon is full making the tops of the trees glow on the mountainside and the stars are dancing across the sky.

The temperature is still perfect, so I decide to take the long way home. I roll the windows down and turn up the radio as I sing my way into town.

I’m belting out the last verse of Pink’s “Say Something” when I see blinking emergency lights ahead.

Foster is perched on the hood of a small black car.

Foster works for Bellamy’s dad at Stoney Ridge Ranch. I can still remember the day he started. Bells, Elle, and I were in high school, and Bells’s brother came to pick us up after a football game. When we made it home, Myer introduced us to Foster. We knew his brother, Truett, from school and working at the ranch the summer before.

It was love at first sight. I think all three of us were instantly crushing on the tall, dirty-blond guy with broad shoulders and the most beautiful, piercing blue eyes. Of course, he was much older than us and married to boot—plus, he didn’t even blink at us.

Through the years, he and Truett became like family to Bells, and our infatuations faded and moved on to others, but now and then, I’d catch him looking in my direction, and my stomach would flutter.

Foster and his wife split up last summer and he moved out. So, when Ricky and I broke up in fall, Foster did show a little interest. Bells and Elle thought maybe there could be something sparking between us, and I’ll admit, I was flattered, but I wasn’t ready to jump back into anything romantic. Not at the time. I was healing. Hell, I’m still recovering almost a year later.

I heard he and his wife had gotten back together sometime after Elle’s wedding. So, I guess it worked out for the best. They may not have made it, but at least they had the opportunity to know beyond the shadow of a doubt their marriage was over.

I must admit, though, that handsome cowboy stranded on the side of the road sure does make my toes curl.

I turn the radio down and slow my speed as I approach. In the moonlight, he looks like an oasis in the dessert.

“You need some help?” I ask.

He grins as he stands and walks over to my car.

He ducks and braces his hands on my windowsill. Dark lashes fringe his twinkling blue eyes as his deep voice fills the air between us. “Do you know anything about German motors?” he asks.

“Can’t say that I do,” I reply.

“Damn,” he mutters.

“I thought you drove a pickup,” I say.

“I do. This is Wendy’s piece of shit,” he informs.

Wendy. His wife.

I look around him and back to the car.

“She’s not here. I gave her my truck, so she could make it to work on time and not get fired. Again. I’m waiting for a tow truck to pick this thing up. It should be here any minute,” he explains.

I nod. Then, there is a long moment of silence.

“You wouldn’t be able to give me a ride out to Henderson’s Farm, would you?” he asks.

“A ride?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m kind of stranded. I left a message for Truett, and he hasn’t called me back yet.”

“Sure, I can do that,” I agree just as the tow truck pulls up.

I move my car over on the opposite side of the road and wait while he speaks to the driver. Then, he crosses over and hops into my passenger seat.

“I appreciate this. I was relieved to see you drive up. I was afraid I would have to walk back home.”

I pull a U-turn and head in the direction of Henderson’s Farm and Apple Orchard.

“It was sheer luck. I’m on my way back home from Walker and Elle’s house and it is such a nice night I decided to take my sweet time.”

“Lucky indeed,” he agrees.

We drive the rest of the way in loaded silence. When I pull up in front of the silo, he reaches for the handle and sits for a few beats before he turns back to me.

“I had fun on Sunday,” he says.

“So did I,” I admit.

Spending the day with him at the carnival was