Beat around the bush bel.., p.1
Beat around the Bush (Bell Buckle Book 2), page 1
Beat around the Bush
Karley Brenna
Beat around the Bush
Copyright © 2024 by Karley Brenna
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental and fictional.
Do not copy, loan, sell, or redistribute.
Paperback ISBN: 979-8-9888184-2-7
Edited by: Bobbi Maclaren
Cover: Dirty Girl Designs by Ali Clemons
Contents
Dedication
Important Note
Quote
1. Oakley
2. Lennon
3. Oakley
4. Lennon
5. Oakley
6. Lennon
7. Oakley
8. Lennon
9. Oakley
10. Lennon
11. Oakley
12. Oakley
13. Lennon
14. Oakley
15. Lennon
16. Oakley
17. Lennon
18. Lennon
19. Oakley
20. Lennon
21. Oakley
22. Lennon
23. Oakley
24. Lennon
25. Oakley
26. Lennon
27. Lennon
28. Oakley
29. Lennon
30. Oakley
31. Lennon
32. Oakley
33. Lennon
34. Lennon
35. Oakley
36. Oakley
37. Oakley
38. Lennon
39. Oakley
40. Oakley
41. Oakley
42. Lennon
Epilogue
Chapter
Acknowledgements
About the Author
To the girls who just want to be saved by the big, broody cowboy.
This one's for you.
Important Note
Dear reader,
Please note that there is particular content and situations within these pages that may be triggering to some people. Some of these may be spoilers for certain scenes, so read this list at your own discretion:
-On page violence
-Stalking
-Strong language
-Sexually explicit content
-Mention of cheating (not by either of the main characters)
-Mention of divorce (not by either of the main characters)
-Minor car accident
“You see, in this world, there’s two kinds of people, my friend – those with loaded guns, and those who dig. You dig.”
– Clint Eastwood
1
Oakley
The sound of metal crunching filled the car as my body was thrust forward against the seat belt. I cursed, slamming my foot on the brake despite my car already being stopped due to the truck now attached to my front bumper.
Shifting to park, I took a minute to catch my breath. I’d been so lost in thought about my parents that I hadn’t seen the taillights until I was right on top of them. The rain pelting down didn’t help, making visibility damn near nonexistent.
I knew it hadn’t been a good idea to get groceries in this storm, but as most rentals come, the fridge was empty and I needed food. I couldn’t keep eating fast food as that was all I’d done throughout the entire drive to this town in the middle of nowhere. I hadn’t had time to do a full grocery trip because I’d been searching for a job since I arrived.
When I left Denver, I had no destination in mind, but halfway through my drive, I’d tried to find the nearest Taco Bell on my maps app, and oddly, Bell Buckle had popped up in the list. While there was clearly no Taco Bell in this town, the name was… somewhat close? Regardless, the name sounded cute, so I clicked it, and well, the rest was history.
Knuckles rapped on the window and I jumped, my hand shooting to my chest. Unbuckling my seat belt, I opened the door and stepped out.
“Are you alright?” the man asked, stepping back to give me space. It was dark despite the light from our headlights and the rain was coming down, making my ability to see his features almost nonexistent.
“I’m so sorry about your truck. I couldn’t see very well with the storm and it’s dark and I’ve never been very good at driving at night and-” He held a hand up to stop me.
He bent down slightly so we were eye level, his hood pulling back a little with the movement. Even with the little bit of light, I could see the hazel of his eyes shining, the color reminding me of the forest floor. “Are you okay?”
I managed a nod. “I’m okay, but your truck-”
“I don’t care about the truck. You hit me pretty hard. Did you hit your head or anything? Are you feeling alright?”
Was he serious? I just slammed into his bumper and he didn’t care? The man clearly wasn’t from the city. Any other person would be filled with rage at the damage done.
Speaking of damage, I glanced over to where my front end was connected to his vehicle. My hood had slid right under his bumper, seemingly causing no damage to his truck. My car, on the other hand, had a dented hood.
Bringing my gaze back to him, I nodded again. “I feel fine. Do you want my insurance?” Before he could reply, I turned back to my car to reach in for my wallet, but a rough hand grabbed my elbow. Despite the cold, his skin was warm against mine. I’d forgotten my jacket at the rental when I rushed out the door to try and beat the worst of the storm.
I looked back at him, doing my best to ignore our point of contact. “No.” He dropped my arm. “Don’t need to involve insurance, unless you want to. My truck’s fine. I can pay for the damages on your-”
“That’s not necessary,” I interrupted. Now I knew he couldn’t be serious. I hit him, and he was offering to pay for the damages on my car?
My car was an old piece of junk anyway. If it was that bad, I’d just sell it for parts and use whatever money I had to buy a different vehicle.
My hair was dripping from the rain, droplets falling down my face as I tried to think of a way to get out of here. Hooking my hair behind my ears, I took a step back, gesturing to my car. “I should get home, I have groceries-”
“Yeah,” he replied before I could finish my sentence. “Let me just take a look under your hood, make sure everything’s fine.” He was offering it, phrasing it more like a question.
This entire situation was so beyond awkward, I just wanted to leave. I already felt like an idiot rear-ending him. He probably thought I was just another tourist who didn’t know how to drive unless the sun was out.
To give him a sense of peace before we parted ways, I agreed. “Sure. That’d be nice, just in case.”
He eyed me before giving a slow nod. He didn’t move, so I finally spoke up. “Aren’t you going to check?”
“Need you to reverse it a few feet.”
Embarrassment flooded my cheeks as I remembered my hood was currently pinned under his truck.
“Right,” I muttered before getting in my car, shifting into reverse, and backing up a few feet. The front of my car lifted a few inches as I slipped out from under his bumper. I looked over my steering wheel to assess my hood. With how bad it sounded, there was surprisingly little to no damage, aside from the dent.
I could live with a dent. I just needed my car.
After shifting back into park, I got out, closing the door behind me as he lifted the hood, his fingers finding the clasp under the metal like he did this often. He was wearing a black Carhartt, but even under the jacket, I could tell he was built.
I should not be checking out the guy I just fucking slammed my car into.
Averting my gaze, I wiped the water from my cheeks. The rain was deafening, drowning out the sounds of our engines idling. He closed the hood, turning to me. “Looks fine from what I can see right now. I’d take it to a shop, though. There’s one in town, if you’re staying around here. They open at eight a.m. tomorrow. North State Auto,” he said, having to raise his voice over the downpour.
“Thanks. I’ll give them a call in the morning.” There was no way I would be calling them. I barely had enough money in my account to cover the groceries I just bought. No way was I paying a mechanic to lie about some problem on my car and upcharge the hell out of me.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked again.
“Yep. Get home safe,” I clipped, turning to slip back into my car. He was still standing there when I closed my door and cranked up the heater.
I grabbed a few napkins from my center console and watched as he disappeared into his truck while I patted my face dry and wrung out the ends of my soaked hair. These storms in the west were no joke. I knew that from having grown up in Colorado, but no matter how long I’d been around them, I’d never been able to get used to them.
Seeing that he wasn’t pulling away, I shifted into drive, and pulled around his truck, heading down the road. I watched in my rearview mirror as he continued on his way. Releasing a deep breath of air, I headed in the direction of my rental.
I internal ly told myself not to think of my mother or the fact that my dad hadn’t stopped calling me since I left Denver. I could deal with all of that later. Right now, I just needed to make it back to the rental I was calling home, unload these groceries, scarf down some food, and get a good night's sleep before my interview tomorrow.
The rest could wait.
2
Lennon
Grabbing a clean travel mug from the cabinet, I poured myself a cup of coffee. Black, just how I liked it. With how shitty my night went, I’d need all the caffeine I could get today.
I’d tossed and turned for hours. Everytime I closed my eyes, all I saw was amber hair and eyes so green I thought they were fake. The dim light of the headlights did little to hide her.
She’d looked so damn pale when she got out of her car, a tremble in her hands as she rambled. I couldn’t give two shits less about my damn truck at that moment. Knowing if she was alright was the only thought on my mind at the time.
These storms weren’t for the weak, which led me to wonder why she was even out in it in the first place. I’d been driving home from Tumbleweed Feed, the only feed store in town, when she’d hit my truck so hard at the four-way stop that it jerked forward a few inches.
My ‘78 GMC K15 didn’t budge easy, but man, had she slammed into it. She had to have been looking at her phone or something and not realized there was a stop sign. I was just thankful she hit me, because if she had ended up going through the intersection without looking, someone could have hit her.
I pushed the thought of someone smashing into the side of her car away and downed the rest of my coffee, then refilled my mug to the rim. After grabbing my baseball cap off the kitchen table, I headed out the door, locking it behind me.
Typically, I tried to get to the feed store before whoever was scheduled to open with me so I could get some paperwork done in peace, but with barely any sleep, I was running behind schedule.
Climbing behind the wheel of my truck, I drove towards town with the heat cranked. Fall was practically nonexistent this year as summer jumped right into winter temperatures. The first snow would be here before we knew it.
Hopefully that woman got new tires before the snow came. Even in the dark, I could see there was little to no tread on the rubber. I didn’t miss her Colorado plates either, which meant she at least wasn’t a stranger to icy roads.
Jacey’s SUV was sitting in the parking lot by the time I pulled in fifteen minutes later. Parking my truck in its usual spot in the corner of the lot, I hopped out and headed inside the already unlocked front door.
Jacey had started working at Tumbleweed Feed around the same time I had. Fast forward eight years, I was now the owner of the store. Jacey was three years younger than me, just shy of turning thirty. With our work history, we got along great, and I considered her a friend, but nothing else.
I had no interest in dating right now. My mind was more focused on the store and Bottom of the Buckle Horse Rescue. My parents had started the rescue a few years before they had me, and even as our family grew, they never slowed down with the nonprofit. They lived and breathed BOTB, and all of my siblings supported it in their own way.
I was constantly trying to find potential homes for some of the rescues. With the foot traffic at the feed store, it was easy to strike up conversations with customers in an attempt to get them interested in adopting or volunteering.
“Good morning,” Jacey greeted me as I walked by her on the way to my office.
“Morning,” I grumbled.
She halted her sweeping, leaning up against the handle. “What’s got you in a mood?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” I headed into my office, setting my travel mug and keys down on the desk.
Jacey’s curvy form appeared in the doorway. “I’m not buying that.”
Taking a seat in the chair, I blew out a long breath. “Don’t know what to tell you.”
“Please,” she scoffed. “I know you, Len. Spill.”
I met her gaze, noticing her hair. “Ponytail?”
She frowned. “The rain makes my hair frizzy. Stop avoiding the question.”
Accepting that she wasn’t going to back down, I sat back in my chair. “I got in an accident last night.”
Her eyes widened. “A car accident? Are you okay?”
I leaned forward in my chair, setting my elbows on my knees. My body felt restless. “I’m fine. Just got rear-ended.”
“The square body was hit? Is the truck okay?” She sounded more worried about the vehicle than she was about me.
My eyes narrowed. “You’re asking if my truck is okay?”
“That thing is basically an artifact. You should be preserving it.”
A frown pulled at my mouth. “It’s a ‘78.”
“Your point? You forget that’s already forty-six years ago. The truck is only fourteen years older than you,” she poked.
“You trying to say I’m old?”
She held her hands up in mock surrender. “You said it, not me.”
Shaking my head, I shuffled through the papers on my desk, coming across the application for the interview today.
Jacey must have seen the stress on my face because she leaned her broom against the door frame and came to sit in the chair across from me. “Talk to me, Len.”
“I’m just nervous about this interview.”
“Isn’t it supposed to be the potential employee who’s nervous?”
I shot her another frown, then sat back in my chair again. “I need this one to work out. While I love the store-”
“And working with me,” she added.
“I’m overworked,” I continued, ignoring her comment. “I’ve barely had time to see my family lately. All these hours covering the register, on top of all the paperwork I have to do, I’m stretched thin.”
Jacey scooted her chair forward an inch, resting her hands on my desk. “I know. You’re doing everything you can. Don’t pile the world on your shoulders.”
“I have no choice. Not until I find someone to hire.” Jacey hadn’t wanted the manager position when the opportunity came up. I’d jumped at the opening, dying to dive further into the business side of things. Little did I know, I’d just be doing both jobs with a hundred more things on my to-do list.
Tumbleweed Feed was a mom-and-pop shop, created and owned by one of the locals before he retired, which was when I took over the business.
“I have a good feeling about this one,” she said confidently.
“Let’s hope.”
I grabbed the register till from the safe under my desk and stood, walking out to the floor. Jacey followed, the broom back in her hands. Popping open the register, I set the till inside and closed the drawer.
Jacey got to work with the rest of the opening checklist, flipping the sign on the door from closed to open and turning on the rest of the lights in the store. I decided to stay up front with Jacey while I waited for the interview time to roll around.
A few locals came in, purchasing grain, chicken feed, horse dewormer, dog treats, you name it. For a small town, we filled a large demand and had a good amount of customers come through every day, which meant there was rarely a dull moment. We knew a lot of the customers by name, but every now and then, a stranger would come in, just passing through town. Not many people moved here, but when we did get the occasional new resident, we welcomed them with open arms.
“How’s it going, Len?” Eric, one of the local cattle ranchers, asked as he set his bag of electrolytes on the counter.
I turned from the bulletin board beside the register. “Same old, same old. How’s that rescue horse treating your daughter?” Eric’s daughter had fallen in love with one of the mustangs that Bottom of the Buckle had taken in from an elderly lady who couldn’t handle him.
He pulled his wallet out as Jacey scanned the barcode on the bag. “He’s a wild one, but she’s breakin’ him in. Almost thought about callin’ Brandy out a time or two.”
My little sister’s best friend, Brandy, broke horses on the ranch, and helped with the more unruly ones at the rescue. If anyone needed help with a green horse, they called her.
“She’d set him straight for sure. Some of ‘em just take time, is all.”
