Sapphire Falls: Going Hearts Over Heels (Kindle Worlds Novella) (My Country Heart Book 3) Read online

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Erin Nicholas. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Sapphire Falls remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Erin Nicholas, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Going Hearts Over Heels

  (A Valentine Romance)

  My Country Heart, Book Three

  A Sapphire Falls Kindle World Novella

  Rachelle Ayala

  >>><<<

  My Country Heart Series

  Going Haywire, Honey & Max, #1

  Going Toe to Mistletoe, Candi & Troy, #2

  Going Hearts Over Heels, Ginger & Marsh, #3

  Description

  What could get hotter than a Sapphire Falls Valentine?

  Hairdresser Ginger Myers is fed up with the noise and stress of city life. What could be better than a Valentine’s vacation in Sapphire Falls with hot and hunky country boys?

  Marsh Wolff is as country as they get. A son of a farmer, he dutifully stayed home to work on his family farm.

  It’s his turn to spread his wings, and what better way to start than letting Ginger Myers spiff up his style before his Valentine Day’s trip to New York City.

  The two make plans to trade apartments, party plans, and friends, but before the big day arrives …

  ---

  Full of twists and unexpected surprises, Going Hearts Over Heels is a sexy and romantic romp by Rachelle Ayala, writing in Erin Nicholas’ Sapphire Falls Kindle World. It is a standalone story, but can better be enjoyed after reading Going Haywire and Going Toe to Mistletoe, the stories of Ginger’s sisters, Honey and Candi.

  ---

  List of Characters:

  Original Erin Nicholas Characters: Travis Bennett, Tucker Bennett, Ty Bennett, Delaney Callan Bennett, Hope Daniels Bennett, Kate Leggot Spencer, Kathy Bennett, Peyton Wells, Scott Hansen, Derek (bartender), Mrs. Michaels, Jim Conrad (owner of grocery store), Ellen Anderson (owner of hair salon)

  Rachelle Ayala Characters: Ginger Myers, Marsh Wolff, Mike Wolff (Marsh’s brother), Candi Myers (Ginger’s sister), Troy Caine, Honey Myers (Candi’s sister), Max Wolff (Candi’s brother-in-law), Mattie Wolff (age 4), Sara Wolff (age 18 months), Carl Wolff (Max’s father), Anne Wolff (Max’s mother), Millie Wolff (Max’s sister), Megan Wolff (Max’s sister), Amber (Candi’s sister), Penny Barnes (Mike’s girlfriend), Mrs. Barnes (Penny’s mother), Katy (Ginger’s former boss), Yvonne, Evan and Slade (Ginger’s frenemies in New York City)

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Going Haywire Excerpt - Chapter One

  Going Toe to Mistletoe Excerpt – Chapter One

  Also by Rachelle Ayala

  Dedication

  To Teresa Fordice, who gave me a taste of country with her stories, pictures, and help.

  Chapter One

  “Marshall Pierre Wolff! You get your butt down here right now. The pigs are out of their pens, and ol’ Bill’s got some kids treed up in the north pasture.”

  Marsh let his finger linger on his phone screen a second longer. He was twenty-seven years old and still living at home—well, not exactly in the family farmhouse since he’d built himself an apartment in the loft of the old barn, but close enough.

  “Marsh, did you hear me?” His mother’s voice came closer. “Looks like the pigs busted through the corner gate, and Bill followed them out.”

  Bill was the cantankerous bull, and he’d been out of sorts lately, huffing and banging around the pen.

  Marsh tucked his phone away and left the airplane ticket unpurchased. He’d been working for his parents since he could walk, and now that he had two brothers, Max and Mike, living in Sapphire Falls, he was due for a short vacation.

  Clambering down the metal staircase, he put on his jacket and gloves and met his mother at the barn door.

  “Where are Dad and Mike?” Marsh asked. He was going to need help corralling all those animals.

  “Your dad’s downtown at the diner for poker night, and Mike is on a date.” Mother’s simple statement was loaded with layers of meaning.

  “That doesn’t mean he’s scot free,” Marsh groused under his breath. “I’ll need help getting the pigs and that bull back in their pens.”

  “Mike hasn’t been on a proper date in a long time.” Mom wrinkled her nose. “Neither have you.”

  “Don’t start.” Marsh strode toward the sacks of feed and hefted one into the bed of the pickup truck.

  The problem with living his entire life in a small town was he already knew every woman of dating age, from the time he entered the church nursery to the present. Now that he was the oldest unmarried son in the family, his mother looked at every single woman, no matter her age, as a potential daughter-in-law, and word got around fast if he as much as winked at a pretty woman.

  “I’ll call Mike to help me get the pigs,” Mom conceded. Being a farmer’s wife, she knew how much damage the pigs could do, rooting their way through the pasture. “You go on and distract that bull so the kids can get off the tree.”

  “I’ll give Travis Bennett a call,” Marsh said, digging out his phone.

  He glanced wistfully at the half-booked airplane ticket and closed out the browser window before punching in his buddy’s number.

  Travis had a farm not far from theirs, and he also had cows. In fact, it was calving season, and the bull got ornery because all the cows were either heavily pregnant or occupied with their calves.

  “Marsh, I’m on my way.” Travis answered on the second ring. “My mom already called me about your bull treeing two of Tucker’s kids.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you out there with the truck and a pan of feed. Got some pigs on the loose, but my brother and mom are going to take care of them.” Marsh ended the call.

  He drove his pickup down the rutted snow-covered lane and met his buddy who was there with Nellie, his Labrador retriever.

  Nellie was a calm dog, unlike the two wolfhounds his family had, Romulus and Remus, who would have excited the bull further. Those two were most likely lounging around the fireplace, and were more pets than working dogs.

  Travis got in the truck bed with Nellie. He knew the drill. They’d try to lure old Bill back to the pen with food, and if that didn’t work, they’d have to herd him on foot and with the truck.

  Marsh backed up the truck close to the bull who was snorting and circling the tree. Travis rattled the pan with the feed and Bill took notice. He bent his head toward the truck and took two steps, but the flashing of the cell phone cameras in the tree drew him back.

>   “Stop taking pictures of him,” Travis shouted at the kids, who were his nephews. “You keep doing that and we’ll be leaving you with old Bill all night. See how you like sleeping in a tree.”

  “It’ll be cool,” one of the boys answered.

  “Yeah, we’re posting it live,” the other one said.

  Marsh slapped the side of the truck to get Bill’s attention and Travis rattled the pan.

  “Come on, boy. You get going, and I’ve got a sweet cow for you,” Marsh joked. “She’s back at the barn with her hair up in rollers and cold cream on her face, just a waiting for you.”

  Slowly, the bull changed direction and came toward the truck. Marsh drove slowly, but not so slow as to let the bull catch them. By the time they got to the pen, Marsh could see that the old corner gate was busted. He’d been meaning to replace it, but hadn’t found a time when his brother could help.

  He got out and opened another gate. By now, Bill wanted to go home, so he obediently trudged into the pen and lowered his head to the round feeder.

  “Thanks, bud,” Marsh said to Travis. “Looks like they got the pigs back in the barn already.”

  “Let me give you a hand on that broken gate,” Travis said.

  “Sure thing.” Marsh grabbed baling wire to tie the gate until he could get to the lumberyard.

  While they walked out of the barn, Travis asked, “You ever going to get away on that vacation you’ve been promised?”

  The entire town knew his parents promised him a vacation, especially with his mother hinting about him bringing back new blood, as if he were going out of state to buy livestock.

  “I’ve been looking at some websites,” Marsh said. “Trying to decide where to go.”

  “Go somewhere tropical. Get some sun, sand, and babes in bikinis. Do it while you still can.” Travis chuckled. “I never traveled to exotic places when I was young and single.”

  “It’s hard to get away when you have a farm. There’s always something to do. Repairing fences, maintaining equipment, and then there’s the planting and all that.”

  “So, you better get away while you still got brothers here.” Travis held onto the broken pieces of wood while Marsh lashed them together with the wire.

  “I should go before we have to start planting,” Marsh agreed. “Except I’m not into beaches, at least I can’t see the fun of lying on a pile of sand. I’d rather go to a big city and see all the sights, taste the food, ride on the subway, and go to the top of the skyscrapers.”

  There was also another reason New York City interested him—a bright, fiery redheaded reason, but he kept that to himself.

  It wasn’t wise to speculate out loud in Sapphire Falls where everyone got into everyone’s business. He’d met Ginger Myers over Christmas when he was a groomsman for his brother Max’s remarriage to Ginger’s sister, Honey.

  She was lively and outspoken, a riot to be around, but he’d been too slow and too country, and by the time he’d worked up the nerve to ask her out, she was already gone.

  “Valentine’s Day is coming up,” Travis said. “Maybe you’ll get lucky with some city girls. Hit the shows in Vegas and go to a party there. Levi could tell you where to stay.”

  Levi Spencer was a wealthy newcomer who had grown up in the casinos in Las Vegas. But Marsh wasn’t interested in going to a tourist trap where they had replicas of the landmarks of the world. He wanted to see the actual landmarks and walk in the actual streets, not the themed park version.

  “Actually, I want something more real and grittier.” Marsh could almost feel the swelling of the crowds, the noise of traffic, and taste the sights and sounds of a large city—or at least his imagination of one, since he’d never been anywhere bigger than Omaha, Nebraska.

  “There’s nothing more real and grittier than the Big Apple, New York City.”

  Marsh grinned, glad that his friend brought it up. Now, no one could say he planned on going because of Ginger. Travis would tell everyone New York City was his idea.

  “Yeah, the biggest and the best.” Marsh checked the gate to make sure it held temporarily. “I wonder how it would feel to be in the middle of Times Square on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Too late for that, but I hear they’re having an all-out Valentine’s Day party.” Travis clapped a gloved hand on Marsh’s back. “You should go.”

  Chapter Two

  Ginger Myers never knew when to shut up.

  Not even for her own good—actually definitely not for her own good.

  Especially not when the woman sitting in the salon styling chair next to hers wouldn’t shut her trap.

  “Why did you take him first? Is he more important than me because he’s got something dangling between his legs?” the female railed.

  Ginger worked at a New York City hair and beauty salon, and her boss was on lunch break. As luck would have it, as soon as her boss left, two customers walked in, both in a hurry.

  “He had an appointment,” Ginger said. “You’re a walk in.”

  “Just because I’m wearing a pantsuit and over forty doesn’t mean I’m not as important. You were about to start on me. You should have made him wait.”

  “I was not about to start on you. I only asked you to sit here and glance at the style book.” Ginger seethed under her breath.

  Her client, a well dressed businessman, had his eyes closed, but his shoulders were tense.

  “Hey, listen to me, young man,” the woman said. “You need to check your privilege at the door. Your time’s not more important than mine. You shouldn’t get paid a dollar when I only earn seventy-nine cents for the same work.”

  “Ma’am,” Ginger cut in. “You’re out of line. Kindly go back to the waiting area and pick up a magazine.”

  “Why don’t you tell him he’s out of line?” The frumpy former hippie put her hands over her hips. “He’s the one who barged in and took my place. This is unacceptable. I call this micro-aggression.”

  Ginger took her hands off her client’s hair lest she make a mistake. She stared at the pantsuit maven with the crooked bangs. “It’s not a good idea to piss off your hairstylist.”

  “Is that a threat? Did I just hear you threaten me?” The grouchy broad got into Ginger’s face, slathering her with fumes of bad, fishy breath. At the same time, the orifice at the other end let out an even more noxious odor.

  “You need to leave now.” Ginger pointed toward the door, but the flatulent activist had more to say.

  “You might be young and pretty now, but mark my words. Someday you’re going to sag, and your bouncy red hair will turn greasy and gray, and men like him will pass right over you like you don’t exist.”

  “Out. Out.” Ginger waved her hand in front of her nose to dissipate the foul body odor. “The reason no one gives you a second look is because you’re rude and you stink. I wouldn’t just pay seventy-nine cents on the dollar for you. I’d make you pay for polluting our airspace.”

  “Your type triggers me big time.” The unkempt woman said, tugging at her bright blue pantsuit. “You think you can get your way with men. But I have news for you, missy. That kind of man will never respect you. Look at you, dressed like a hooker, running your fingers through his hair. You’re a sellout of the sisterhood. I feel sorry for you.”

  That did it. Ginger’s fiery temper exploded, and she grabbed the fetid feminist and dragged her toward the door.

  “No one feels sorry for me.” Ginger shoved the worn-out social justice warrior out onto the sidewalk.

  “This is assault! Help. Help. This young woman assaulted me. I’m making a citizen’s arrest.”

  “I’m throwing this hag out for disrupting other customers. We have the right to refuse service to anyone.”

  “This is age discrimination. Sexism. Racism. Homophobia,” the woman shouted.

  “How can this be racism when we’re the same race?” Ginger snapped at the aging radical.

  “I’m Native American.” Specks of spittle frothed from the blue-eye
d, pink-cheeked monster’s thin lips.

  “What seems to be the problem here?” A police officer sauntered up from the crowd who had gathered around with their camera phones outstretched.

  “This criminal assaulted me,” the well-filled pantsuit said, pointing her finger at Ginger.

  “Actually, officer. She was abusing my client and I threw her out of the salon.”

  “I’m making a citizen’s arrest.”

  “You’re disturbing the peace.”

  “One at a time.” The officer stepped in between them and faced Ginger. “Did you touch her?”

  “I did, as disgusting as it was, given her lack of hygiene. She refused to leave the salon.”

  “And you,” the officer said to the unruly woman. “Did you abuse her client?”

  “I absolutely did not.” The woman crossed her arms and tipped her chin up. “Arrest her. She assaulted me.”

  “Actually, we have a witness.” Ginger opened the door and stuck her head back into the salon. “Um, sir, could you tell the policeman what happened?”

  The man stood and unwrapped the hairstyling cape from his shoulders. He nonchalantly brushed stray hairs from his clothes and squinted at the mirror at his half-finished haircut.

  Picking up his briefcase, he strode toward the door without saying a word.

  The sea of onlookers parted for him.

  “Wait.” Ginger started to chase him. “You have to tell him what happened or they’ll haul me to jail.”

  The young man kept walking without a backward glance.

  At that moment, Ginger’s boss, Katy, made her way to the front of the crowd. “What’s going on here?”

  The policeman tried to explain, but his voice was overpowered by the booming voice of the professional protestor.

  “Your stylist discriminated against me. I’m filing a lawsuit against your business.”

  “She drove away our best customer.” Ginger stabbed her finger at the furious flaccid female. “She’s upset because he had an appointment and I took him first. I asked her nicely to wait, but she went off on us. Stuff like micro aggression and getting triggered. She even called me a racist.”