#divided sky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lightdancingwords · 27 days ago

Text

Come Find Me - Part One

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Series Summary: You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriff’s department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts?

Word Count: 2,185

Tags/Warnings: mentions domestic violence, intimate partner violence, minor problems with the police

Divider: credit to @tsunami-of-tears

Chapter One: Arriving On The Wind

Y/N stared at the employment acceptance letter. Your hand trembled. It happened. It was finally happening. A carefully cultivated plan that culminated in an escape from Billings with most of your possessions, a job offer, and even a place to stay until you saved up enough for a place of your own. Most wouldn’t have been so damned lucky.

Still… it was happening. Y/N got away. If Y/N got lucky, maybe Mark didn’t follow you, find you. A tremor in your hand gave away your nervousness, your fear. You swallow hard and brace yourself. You got away. You have the restraining order. You found a self defense class in Big Sky. You’re doing all you can do.

Except… it was so scary. Every step you took, you wanted to flee, turn around and go sobbing apologies into Mark’s arms. You hated it. You felt weak. Your therapist told you over and over it was normal, that it was a natural occurrence that happened between abusers and their victims. It didn’t matter. You hated it.

“Come on, Y/N,” you whisper to yourself. Mark didn’t break you.

You got away.

With a toss of your long auburn hair, a proud lift to your chin, you stepped into the insurance office. There was a ridiculously cheery bell chime attached to the door that made you want to jump out of your skin for half-a-second. It was… well, rather empty. Oh, there was a computer desk setup, the phones lighting up like a Christmas tree, but it was devoid of people.

“Hello?” you call out, hesitant. Did you come to the wrong place? Was the offer letter a fake? God, you hoped not….

You step further inside, your heels clicking against the linoleum floor. You look around the corner, and saw a solitary bathroom door closed. There was light peeking from the bottom of the door. Just as the certainty that someone—possibly the owner—was in there formed in your mind, there was a distinct flush and the sound of the sink running. A moment later, a portly man stepped out.

“May I help you?” he asked, friendly, if guarded.

“Uh, yes,” you said, holding out the letter. “I’m Y/N. I’m here about the job.”

“Oh! Y/N!” He ignored the letter, brightened considerably at you. “Excellent timing! If you weren’t coming in a few days, I was going to have to close up shop for a while.”

You blink, blink again, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh, just some family drama in Tennessee. I’m the only one with Power of Attorney and my bloodthirsty relatives are swarming the waters. I would’ve hated to close the office. Please, come, sit, sit,” he insisted, gesturing to the only chair across the computer desk. “I’m Arthur, as the email says.”

You feel the knot loosening in your chest. Arthur was as cheerful as the offer letter made him sound. He ran over the whole business, allowing you to take out a notepad and scribble notes as he explained. Your history working in insurance was a boon, made it easier for him to turn the reins over to you while he dealt with the family drama.

Several hours later, reasonably confident, with copies of the office keys, you stepped out back into the Big Sky sun. Your mind was spinning with information overload, of program notes and the rules of his insurance department. Oh, Arthur worked with local and franchise insurance providers, but he definitely didn’t follow their rules!

“What can I say? I’m a bit of an anarchist!”

God.

However, just as you turned to head to your car, your gaze went up to the neighboring building: Big Sky Sheriff Department. Would there be any point whatsoever…? Evidently your body was saying ‘yes’ as you found yourself walking over to the front door of the department. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of a secretary desk with a sweet, older woman with a tight, gray-haired bun.

“Hi there! How can I help you?” she asked. She’s got a smear of lipstick on her teeth.

You were trying to decide how to tell her when a presence caught your attention. The door to your right opened, the one reading ‘Sheriff Beau Arlen’, and a tall man with bowlegs stepped out. There was something about him, something beyond his attractive looks, that caught your eye. Not that he was ugly; God, far from it.

The secretary glanced over, saw the way you were staring, and smirked. “He’s a tall drink of water, ain’t he?”

You couldn’t look away. After a long moment, it dawned on you why you were drawn to him. He projected this protective air, a kind of warmth, that was at once guarded and incredibly open. As though, if you asked, he’d give you a hug that’d encompass you all over and soothe your hurt away.

When he glanced over, he gave you a polite nod, and oh my God—his eyes. They were so damned green you thought your heart was going to stop. A kind of mossy green that looked as though the sun were shining through them. He had thick lashes—that was so unfair, how dare he have thicker lashes than you?—and a neatly trimmed beard. There was the slightly crook to his nose, a minor imperfection that made everything else just seem all that more incredible. His hair was a bit on the long side, neatly combed back.

“Everythin’ all right, Doris?” he asked, walking over.

For the love of God, Y/N, breathe. You took a shaky breath and call up a smile that felt all kinds of nervous.

Doris smirked at you again. Goddammit. “Well, I don’t know, Beau, this youngin’ hasn’t said anything yet.”

Beau shot you a warmer smile and held out his hand. “Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma’am, at your service.”

Oh don’t you dare say anything dirty, Y/N. Once again, you force yourself to act, to move. “H-hi! I’m Y/N,” you said, taking his offered hand. His fingers felt rough and his hand was warm. The handshake alone was electric, firm. He wasn’t shy about making his strength known.

“Well, nice to meet you, miss,” Beau said, a slight questioning look in his green eyes. “How can we help you today?”

It dawned on you that his accent was out of place in Montana. If anything, it sounded…. “You’re from Texas,” you observed curiously.

Beau’s smile widened. “I am,” he said, hitching his hip against Doris’s desk. “You ever been?”

“Austin, once,” you said with a smile, finding yourself relaxing. “For the music festival.” He was so instantly likable, you were wondering if you were imagining it.

“Good choice,” he said with a nod. “Always nice to meet a fan of ACL.” He shifted his head, just a bit, with a curious tilt. “As much as I’d like to keep talkin’ to a pretty lady, Doris will kill me if I keep sitting on her desk like this.”

“Or threaten to keep my lasagna to myself,” Doris quipped, watching you and Beau with a keen eye.

Beau gave Doris a horrified look. “Doris! Would you really be that cruel?”

“Yes.”

Y/N laughed. The banter was delightful, as was Doris’s wicked grin. “It sounds like the lasagna is really delicious.”

“Big Sky has a lasagna competition—don’t ask me why—and every year, Doris wins,” Beau said, praising his secretary. “She treats me once a week with a big ol’ casserole dish of it. That she’s darin’ to threaten to withhold—”

“Then do your job, sheriff,” Doris said, pinning him with a steely look of her dark eyes. “And take this youngin’ into your office and talk to her.”

“You just said you don’t know what she wanted!” Beau said defensively. Clearly the idea of losing access to Doris’s lasagna was terrifying for him.

Doris whipped a look on you and you knew you were in trouble. “Well?”

All at once, the knot tightened again. Your voice didn’t want to work. Your heart was pounding. It must’ve shown in your face because Doris’s demeanor gentled at once.

“Beau, take her into your office,” Doris said, and there was something different in her voice. A note of compassion that nearly had you weeping.

“Yeah, yeah, hey… come on,” Beau said gently, lightly taking your hand with one hand and the other barely touching the small of your back.

Once he had you in a chair in his office, he shut the door and moved to sit across from you. He leaned forward with a concerned frown. “You all right, darlin’? Need water? Coffee?”

You shook your head. “No…” You managed to talk, finally. You took a breath, then another. The knot loosened enough for you to breathe fully again. “I’m sorry, I don’t usually fall apart like that.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. We get all sorts of folks here in Big Sky. Sometimes, they’re a bit skittish like you. Just gotta treat you gentle and nice, like approachin’ a deer.”

You quirk a brow at him. You never imagined you’d be compared to a deer. “I’m sorry?”

Beau half-smiled. “That got you to shift gears, didn’t it?”

It did. It was such a bizarre comparison her brain shifted into the peculiarities of it instead of dwelling on Mark and why you were here. You couldn’t help it, you let out a soft laugh and shook your head. “I… yeah, it did.”

Beau sat patiently, giving you a gentle, waiting look.

It was that precise expression that had you pouring everything to him. Not all the details—no, that was too much—but how you escaped an abusive relationship, how you moved to Big Sky to get away, how you had to fight for a restraining order… and the fear that Mark would track you down. You didn’t want the sheriff’s department to go blind about any possible phone calls. You wanted them warned, prepared.

Within minutes of you starting, Beau pulled out a notepad and pen, and began taking notes. He’d ask questions, nothing too probing, sensing you weren’t ready. He asked for information—Mark’s full name, his date of birth, his last known address. He asked for the details of the charges, and that had you choking up at one point, especially when you mentioned staying at the hospital….

That part had Beau stopping, and something dark and angry flashed in those beautiful green eyes. Then it was gone and he gave you a soft nod to keep going. Through it all, you had the feeling he was genuinely listening, genuinely cared. Billings Police Department was never like this.

It took over an hour.

Beau raked his fingers through his hair and nodded. “Well. I’ll make sure the deputies are updated on this, miss Y/N,” he said, glancing at the pages he wrote. “That way if you give us a call, we’ll know what’s going on. I’ll have Doris reach out to Billings PD for the files, that way we have copies. Especially your restrainin’ order.”

He paused, weighing his next words. He reached into his top desk drawer, pulled out a card, and slid it over. “My phone number. If you ever feel you need to talk, if somethin’ got you jumpy, whatever, give me a call.”

Your gaze snapped up to him, more than a little surprised. “I can’t—”

“Y/N.” The way he said your name, with that Texas drawl, had your heart stuttering. “There ain’t no shame in acceptin’ help. Take my number. You don’t have to call. I just want you to have the option.”

You swallow hard. Pride goeth, as the idiom went. You take the card, your fingers trembling slightly. You felt Beau’s gaze sharpen on your hands, and wanted to pull away. Instead, you fought that reaction and gave him a weak smile.

“Thank you… sheriff,” you said, hesitating on whether it’d be all right to call him by his name.

“Call me Beau.” He got up, walked around his desk and offered you his hand. You pause, then took the offered hand. How was it he seemed so much warmer than before? “I promise you… if he comes around, I’ll know, and he won’t be able to sneeze without me knowin’.”

Normally such a reassurance would make you laugh, mostly out of disbelief, but Beau’s declaration felt real. As though he truly meant it. “Are you always this helpful?”

He grinned. “Only for pretty ladies.”

This time you did laugh, but it’s soft and startled. His whole face transformed with that line, playful and boyish. “Well, thank you, Beau. I really appreciate it.”

Beau escorted you out of his office, again that light hand on the small of your back. “Anytime, miss. Promise me you’ll call if you need somethin’.”

You glance at him over your shoulder as you reach the door. “I will,” you promised with a smile, feeling lighter, more hopeful.

Doris watched you leave, then quirked a look up at Beau. “Well?”

“Doris… she’s gonna be trouble.”