Page 1 of Unbroken (Poplar Springs #2)

ONE

ELI

I slowed down as I got closer to the stalled Nissan on the side of the road.

My day was jam-packed, but I was always quick to lend a hand when someone was having car trouble.

Most problems were pretty easy to fix. I could change a tire with my eyes closed and had even rigged a timing belt with a strip of horse blanket once—but when I saw smoke puffing from the car’s engine, I realized I might be out of my league.

As I closed in on the car, I narrowed my eyes and scowled when I saw the driver leaning up against it.

There was no mistaking the auburn hair and the sassy stance. Fiona Cafferty was back.

My boss, Josh Cafferty, had mentioned in passing that his youngest sister was coming home to the ranch—probably only temporarily—so it wasn’t a complete surprise to see her in Poplar Springs.

However, my reaction to seeing her, to actually resting my eyes on the woman who was the source of so much frustration and annoyance to me for years, was unexpected.

Dammit, why did Fiona Cafferty still make my heart beat off rhythm ?

I talked myself down as I eased my truck behind her car.

At this point Fiona was basically a stranger to me.

Sure, we’d had our fun sparring with each other in high school, but then things took a turn for the worse after she crossed the line.

Our competitive relationship ended after that, and we didn’t keep in touch after graduation.

That, plus the passage of time and all the changes that came along with it meant I had no clue what Fiona was like now.

My truck tires crunched on the gravel, and Fiona turned around to beam her trademark showstopping smile.

Sort of wished I had a dashcam to memorialize her reaction once she realized precisely who was coming to her rescue.

“There we go,” I said aloud as I watched her smile fade as quickly as it had appeared.

Not that the lack of a smile mattered. She was stunning, frown or not.

If I were honest with myself, she looked even better now than she had eight years ago when we graduated from high school.

The hair that had been a wild mass of copper curls looked sleek and businesslike now—in direct contrast to her personality, which I assumed was still just as fierce.

I scanned her quickly. The curves I remembered were still there, but now they were highlighted in some sort of print romper thing that managed to show off her legs and chest. I didn’t understand the outfit other than it looked expensive and she wore it well.

I opened the door and hopped out. “Fiona,” I said, bumping my fingers under the brim of my hat in a shorthand greeting. “Been a while.”

“Hey, Eli,” she said as she recovered a semblance of her smile. “Figured I’d run into you sooner or later. Josh told me he hired you. Guess that means it’s gonna be tough to avoid you.”

“Yup, he did,” I replied, ignoring her jab. I wasn’t in the mood for chitchat with her, even if her brother was a fairly neutral topic. “You need a ride?” I pointed at her stalled car .

Fiona pretended to kick the tire in frustration. “Yeah, that would be great, thanks. If it’s not a problem for you.”

“Not at all. Let’s go.”

“I appreciate it. Let me just grab some of my stuff first.”

“I’ll help—” I started toward the trunk.

“No, I got it,” Fiona said, flashing her hand at me to stop me in my tracks. “I’ve made it this far without help. I can get my things myself.”

My eyebrows flew up. City living had toughened her up.

Not that she’d ever been soft, exactly. Ranch girls grew up strong.

But city life brought out a different sort of attitude—one that apparently didn’t appreciate the offer of a helping hand.

Or maybe she just didn’t appreciate it when it came from me.

Fine.

I watched her struggle with a briefcase and an oversized, flashy silver suitcase, a bemused smile on my face.

How the hell was she going to lift the thing into the back of my truck on her own?

She dragged it down the pebbly shoulder and paused when she got to the back of my truck, seeming to calculate the best way to hoist the suitcase up and over.

Fiona took a deep breath and bent her knees, bracing herself for the hammer toss move that would be necessary to get it in.

Could she pull it off? Doubtful. Still, I’d let her try.

She gripped the handle, her arms shaking as she tried to swing it up, but the suitcase just landed on the ground with a thump.

With a growl, she glared at it as if its hefty weight wasn’t her fault.

Rubbing her hands on her outfit to wipe the sweat off, I tried not to watch how the fabric pressed tightly against her curves.

When I considered the definitions of “stubborn” combined with “persistent,” I would always picture Fiona. She had the suitcase in hand again and took a wobbly step back as she readied to attempt another throw.

I didn’t have time for this.

“Let me,” I said, sliding my hand next to hers on the handle.

Her eyes went wide as she snatched her hand away as if I’d scorched her.

I smoothly popped open the tailgate with one hand and lifted the suitcase with the other.

Sure, it weighed a lot and nearly dislocated my shoulder, but I wasn’t about to let Fiona know it was a struggle for me to lift it.

“I’ve got the number for Anderson’s Garage; we can get them out here to tow you.”

“Thanks. I do appreciate your help, Eli. I have no clue what happened. I mean, sure, there was this warning light that kept blinking at me over the past week or so, but those aren’t a big deal, right?

But then when I was driving today, there were a bunch of lights going off on the dash, everything was flashing like some sort of video game … ”

I turned to her with a start. “Seriously, Fiona? It’s probably an engine problem. Flashing lights are bad.”

I stopped talking when I saw the smile creeping onto her lips.

“No, I’m not serious, Eli. I take excellent care of my car.”

How typical was that? She always used to say that I took things too seriously, which was why she’d deemed it her self-appointed job to get me to lighten up.

I wasn’t sure how light she’d made me, but she’d definitely had a knack for getting under my skin …

and it looked like she still did. I was about to shoot back at her, the beginning of the banter we used to have, when I realized that everything was different now. We’d both grown and changed.

And the truth was, what she’d done to me all of those years ago still smarted .

My phone rang and when I saw my mom’s number, I picked up quickly. She was watching my son Patrick, and any time she called I worried that something was wrong.

“You guys okay?” I asked as I answered.

“Well, hello to you too,” Mom laughed softly. “We’re fine, but Patrick has a stomachache again. He says he wants to be with you. Any chance you can come get him?”

“Is he really sick, or is this one of his episodes?”

“Hard to say, but I’m guessing it’s more in his head than his belly, to be honest.”

I sighed and kicked a rock with the toe of my boot.

Patrick’s stomachaches were happening more and more frequently.

I’d taken my four-year-old son for a checkup and after finding nothing of note, the doctor had suggested that his stomach issues could be stress-related.

What exactly a child who hadn’t started kindergarten yet could have to worry about was beyond me, but it kept me up at night.

“Yeah, I can pick him up. I still have a lot to do at the ranch, though …”

“I’m sure the work can wait for just a bit. Patrick is asking for you.”

“Okay, I’ll come get him, but first I gotta, uh …” I glanced at Fiona and tried to calculate how long it would take me to drop her at the ranch and then run to my mom’s place. “Give me an hour. Tops.”

Fiona was watching me as I hung up. “Family stuff?”

“Yeah, my son, Patrick, isn’t feeling well. I’ll bring you to the ranch, then go grab him.” I shook my head, trying to mentally rearrange my schedule. “I’ve got too much to do today before the next trail ride. The timing couldn’t be worse. ”

“Hold on,” Fiona said. “You don’t have to run back and forth. Let’s go pick him up together and then you can bring him back to the ranch with you. I’ll get him set up in one of the spare bedrooms and keep an eye on him while you finish up.”

“Seriously?” I asked. “You don’t have to do that.”

Damn it, Fiona made it hard to be surly with her.

“Happy to help. Come on, let’s go get your boy.”

“You look like Glinda,” Patrick said with awe in his voice, staring at Fiona with wide eyes from where he was glued in the middle of the bedroom. “From The Wizard of Oz .”

“You think?” She laughed as she bustled around, moving throw pillows and pulling back the top sheet on the bed. “I’ve heard that before.” She paused, folded her hands at her waist, and adopted a serene smile. “There’s no place like home.”

“Wow,” Patrick whispered. “You sound just like her too.”

“That was her nickname in high school,” I added. “She was the Good Witch.”

I refrained from telling my son that the way she’d treated me in the end made her seem more like the wicked one.

No, she hadn’t attacked anyone—or their little dog—but she’d embarrassed me publicly and hurt my feelings in a way that no teenage boy was well equipped to handle.

I tried not to be the kind of man who held a grudge, but moving on wasn’t the same as forgetting.

I watched as Fiona smoothed the sheets back and patted the bed. “Shoes off and up you go, flying monkey. If your belly hurts, you need to relax. ”

Surprisingly, Patrick didn’t look to me for guidance and kicked off his sneakers, then hopped on the bed without hesitating.

My son and I were alike in more ways than just our thick black hair and dark eyes; Patrick had the same untrusting temperament, but there was something about bubbly Fiona that seemed to make him feel comfortable.

I’d been worried that picking up Patrick with Fiona would be awkward given that my mom, Beatrice, still harbored a grudge against her, but we’d managed to keep it polite.

Patrick was taken with Fiona almost immediately.

I hated to admit that I still wasn’t immune to her either.

When she laughed, she made everyone want to laugh along with her.

Fiona Cafferty had a glow that had only gotten brighter with time.

She pulled the blanket over Patrick and sat on the edge of the bed. “Why don’t you tell us about this bellyache of yours. Did you eat something that didn’t agree with you?”

I winced, knowing from experience that this line of questioning would only make Patrick more uncomfortable and wouldn’t lead to answers, anyway.

Whatever Patrick was dealing with was something much tougher to diagnose than eating too much ice cream.

I just wasn’t sure what it was or how I could fix it, given that pressing Patrick about it would make my son clam up tighter than a… well, clam.

Patrick shook his head and shrank into himself, the smile slipping from his face. It was as if he’d suddenly remembered the reason why he was there and needed to get back into character.

“Do you want to take his temperature?” Fiona asked, glancing over her shoulder at me.

I shook my head. “No, I checked his forehead and he’s fine.

He just needs to rest a bit and give his tummy time to settle down.

” I widened my eyes at Fiona to suggest that there was more to the story and to let it drop.

She frowned, but then nodded at me. “And I need to get back to work,” I added. “You gonna be okay, bud?”

“Yes, Daddy. Can I play games on your phone?”

“No, sir, you cannot. I need it. If you don’t feel well, you should take a nap.”

I hoped that making Patrick’s “recuperation” from the tummy troubles boring might help to put an end to them.

Patrick pouted and Fiona jumped up from the bed.

“Wait, I have an idea. We have a stack of horse books we use for the kids in our riding program. They’re really cool. Want to look at them?”

“Sure!” Patrick brightened.

Fiona held up a finger, then ran out of the room.

I smiled when I realized that she still moved at warp speed.

Everything about Fiona was fast and cheerful.

It was as if we were directly opposite one another on the personality chart.

I was still in awe that she’d taken over getting Patrick ready to rest so seamlessly.

If I had tried to do it on my own, it would’ve been a test of wills, but Fiona made taking a nap seem like recess.

“Here we go!” she chirped as she came back in the room carrying a foot-high stack of picture books. “I hope you like horses.”

“Oh, he does,” I said.

“Well, that makes three of us,” Fiona said, beaming at Patrick. “Speaking of, I probably should find my brother and sister and let them know I’m back and ready to get to work. Take it easy, little guy.”

She gave him a high five and walked out of the room. I followed her out and caught her by the arm. “I, uh, just wanted to say thank you for that. For helping me.”

She shrugged. “No problem, I love kids. You’ve got a good one.” She paused as a twinkle sparked in her eyes. “He must get it from his momma.”