Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers 1)

Prologue

Darby

I turn off the engine, taking a moment to admire the landscape of my parents’ property. Everything looks the same, but I couldn’t feel more different. It’s been a long time since I lived my life without a plan.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Lynda rolling Mom onto the terrace. Runner, my golden retriever, crawls halfway across the console, excited to finally be here.

“What do you think, boy? Ready for some changes?”

He barks his reply.

We jump out, and he races to the fields, checking out his new surroundings. My heart leaps when my mom stands, taking four steps away from her wheelchair, and extends her arms to me.

“Mama!”

“Get your skinny butt up here!” she haughtily calls back.

I cross the distance and almost collapse into her arms. It’s been seven long weeks since her surgery. Seeing her stand and take those steps sends relief flooding through me. Of course, Dad, Lynda, my brother, Mom’s physical therapist, and her doctor had all sent videos, but witnessing it in person makes it all the more real. She’s fine.

“Looking good, old woman. Glad you fixed yourself. I was dreading coming back here to a lazy slug.”

“Lazy my ass. I’ll show you lazy when we’re up at five-thirty in the morning.”

“Oh, are we sleeping in tomorrow?” I tease, reaching out a hand to Lynda, who takes it affectionately.

“Smartass.” Mom’s arms tighten before she steps back, cupping my chin with her fingertips. “My Darby Rose is home.”

The words are simple, but the meaning is clear. “I’m home.”

There’s a short twinkle in her eye before she looks me over, her hand falling to my waist and pinching my side. “You’re even skinnier. I may have been drugged up last time you were home, but I remember you. Now, you’re skin and bones.”

Here we go. Let the ridiculing begin. “I’m not skin and bones. I needed to lose some weight. It’s called getting fit.”

“Look at these fancy clothes, Lynda. And that hair. Darby’s always had such gorgeous, thick hair. I understand why she wears it up for work, but for a casual afternoon at home?”

“I think she looks lovely, Annie. Leave her alone.”

I flash Lynda an appreciative smile, squeezing her hand once more before releasing it. Lynda has been my mom’s best friend forever. I can’t remember a time in my life when Lynda wasn’t around. She and her husband, Ray, live close, and she has been a lifesaver to our family since Mom’s fall. Without her, we’d be lost.

Eight weeks ago, Mom was riding her horse and had a horrible fall. Lynda was the first one to get to her since my brother was out of town. It took a day for doctors to give us all the answers. Mom had shattered her hip, fractured her pelvis, slipped a disc in her lower spine, and sprained her ankle. Lynda was at her side, giving me hourly updates until I could get from Charlotte to Charleston.

It was Lynda who calmed my hysteria and helped me arrange all that was needed when Mom left the hospital. My brother, Evin, and Dad handled all the medical professionals, while I worked on getting Mom’s house ready, and her therapy, transportation, and caregivers set up. I barely remember the whirlwind of those few weeks, but Lynda was my family’s rock.

Not to mention, she comes to my rescue when Mom gets on a roll.

“You would think she looks lovely. You love these fancy-schmancy, wide-legged trousers. I prefer something tighter that shows off her figure,” Mom goes on.

“They’re linen, Mom. They’re cool, and they are comfortable for driving,” I throw back.

“Speaking of driving. What the hell is that God-forsaken monstrosity you drove up in?”

“It’s my new SUV. You know I needed something larger for the business, and I thought it would be easier for you to get in and out of than my old car.”

She studies me for a second, and her eyes instantly fill with sympathy. A quiet understanding passes between us. A quick glance at Lynda tells me she’s figured out the same thing. It has to be that motherly instinct that kicks in when a child is hiding something.

Or hiding from something.

“It’s just a car. Let’s not make a big deal,” I try again.

“We’ll go for a ride when your brother gets here. He’ll help you unload. The shed is all set up.”

“You sure you wouldn’t prefer me staying in the house with you?”

“That’s up to you, honey. You are welcome to your old room, but I figured you’d want some of your own space. I’m getting around well enough, and having you close will be fine.”

I chew on my bottom lip, thinking about actually moving back in with my mom at thirty-three years old. Staying under her roof while visiting is a lot different than my current situation. For now, I’ve uprooted my life, coming home to be close to family while I figure out the next steps.