Fragile Hearts (Poplar Falls #4) - Amber Kelly Page 0,18

the keys to our dream house and then to my first practice. All the picture-perfect moments that add up to a bunch of emptiness and nothing. A life that doesn’t belong to me anymore.

I toss the book across the room, and it crashes against the wall before landing on the floor with a hollow thud.

I hear the sound of the floor creaking down the hall and am instantly filled with remorse as I see the light flicker on beneath my bedroom door.

“Brandt, are you all right, son?” My mother’s soft, concerned voice drifts into the silence.

“I’m fine, Mom. Go back to sleep,” I bite out, my voice hoarse from screaming in my dream.

“Another nightmare?”

I wish I could tell her no. I wish I could spare her from the worry that plagues her. Sometimes, I wake up before the conclusion of the scene, and I’m able to spend the rest of the night lost in my head without disturbing her, but on nights like tonight, when I have to watch as my heart is being ripped from my chest, there is no hiding. I’m raw and unguarded, and she knows, like a mother does, that I am hurting.

“Yes,” I whisper because even though I wish she hadn’t been awakened, I’m glad she is there.

“I’ll make some warm milk,” she says through the door.

I know she is making her way to the small kitchen to put on a pot, just like she used to when I couldn’t sleep as a child. Just like she’s done many nights in the last three years.

I make my way to the kitchen and sit at the small table while my mother fusses over me.

“Here you go, sweetheart. This should help,” she says as she sets the steaming cup in front of me.

Oh, if only it were that easy.

“I’m sorry for waking you again, Mom,” I whisper as I blow over my milk and take a comforting sip.

She pats my shoulder. “It’s okay, son. It’s been a few days since you had a nightmare. I was hoping that they were starting to subside,” she says. “Maybe I should cancel my trip.”

“No, ma’am,” I cut her off. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m a grown man. I can handle myself. I have to learn to deal with the sleepless nights. I’ll even make my own warm milk,” I assure her.

“I know you can, son. I just hate for you to have to. I’m your mother, and you will always be my baby boy. I will always want to chase the bad dreams away for you,” she argues.

“They aren’t as bad as they used to be,” I lie to her.

She reaches and takes my hand in hers. “One day, you will heal, Brandt. It doesn’t seem like it now, but it will happen. Trust me, I know.”

I squeeze her hand and nod in agreement, but I don’t think I ever will.

I don’t deserve to heal.

Bellamy

“Oh my goodness, she is too perfect,” I coo as I count my niece’s fingers and toes.

“She’s a little diva who thinks every night is party time, and then she sleeps it off all day like a bar-hopping twenty-one-year-old sleeping off a hangover—that’s what she is,” Dallas corrects.

I giggle.

“Do you keep your mommy and daddy up all night? That’s not very nice, Miss Faith,” I tell the baby.

She blinks up at me, and a smile spreads across her face.

“Look, I know it’s probably just gas but …” I move, so Dallas can see the sweet smile on her daughter’s face.

“Nope, that’s definitely a smirky smile. The little stinker knows exactly what she’s doing, and she thinks it’s funny. Don’t ya, Sleeping Beauty?”

One tiny eye pops open, and her smile widens before she snuggles in deeper and falls back into a blissful slumber.

“See!” Dallas declares.

I stopped in to visit with the girls while Myer took Beau out for a ride on his new horse. When they return, Auntie Bells has a fun-filled afternoon planned for Beau, so the new parents can hopefully get a little rest.

I help Dallas give Faith her bath. Afterward, just as I get her diaper on, the front door swings open, and Beau and his chocolate Lab, Cowboy, come barreling in with Myer on their heels.

They run straight for me and the baby on a blanket on the living room floor.

Beau kisses Faith’s head, and Cowboy sniffs her head before lying down next to her.

“Did you miss me, lil baby sister? I missed you,” Beau says, leaning in about an inch from