Page 34 of Bucked By Love

I leave the truck growling and watch Claire to make sure she makes it inside okay.

You know how long it takes to find a button on the side of the road?

All goddamn night, apparently.

I’m working by lamplight when I finally find the little sucker. A fabric button wrapped up in flower print, tucked away in the tall grass.

Stars are bright in the sky when I roll the truck back onto the Preacher property. I park it at the entrance. The night is crisp and the gravel crunches under my boots. The estate is lit up on the inside, twin yellow lights glowing on the second floor like cat eyes.

I climb the couple steps of the porch. I crouch down and leave the button beside the door.

“Ransom.”

My heart punches in my chest. I start back at the voice. “Jesus.”

Mr. Preacher sits in the shadows. He’s in the big, wicker rocking chair. He’s got a swallow of whiskey in his glass, and he’s staring at me with dark, cold eyes.

I straighten my back. I clear my throat. “Sir.”

He tilts his chin. “You see those hedges, Ransom?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That separates my house from the ranch.”

“Alright.”

Those dark eyes train on me. “If I see you on this side of the hedges again, I’ll take my shotgun off the mantle and blow your head clean off your shoulders.”

I hold my wrist. “Understood.”

His mustache twitches as his mouth twists into a frown. “Go on.”

I don’t need to be told twice.

I leave the button behind and go while I’ve still got my parts intact.

28

CLAIRE

“It’s her time.”

The words stop me in my tracks.

Daddy and Arris are locked in a heated conversation in Daddy’s office. Again.

This time, I’m careful. I fit my body against the hallway wall and listen in quietly.

There’s a brief silence from Arris. When he speaks again, his voice has a low urgency to it. “She’s of age,” Arris continues. “She’s trained for this. She’s ready to be the Belleflower Queen.”

My heart beats a small drum against my rib cage. The rush of blood makes me dizzy.

This is it. I was right. This is my year.

I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I wait, strangled by the noose of my own nerves, for Daddy to give his answer.

He responds with a single, curt: “No.”

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