Breaking Down Her Walls

by Erin Zak

  Breaking Down Her Walls

  Leaving is what Julia Finch does best.

  When a meeting with her birth parents goes horribly wrong, Julia escapes on a hastily planned road trip and winds up breaking down in a Colorado town so small the cows outnumber the people. Completely out of her element, she takes a temporary job as a ranch hand at Bennett Ranch. She only has to survive long enough to get her car fixed, and then she’s out of there for good.

  Her bad luck continues when she meets the ranch owner, Elena Bennett. Elena is unhappy, abrasive, and annoyingly breathtaking. But the longer Julia stays, the more the ranch starts to feel like home, and her feelings for Elena become impossible to ignore. She’s spent years building her defenses high and running from her past. Could a love worth staying for be the key to breaking down her walls?

  Breaking Down Her Walls

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  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

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  Breaking Down Her Walls

  © 2018 By Erin Zak. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-370-3

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: December 2018

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Barbara Ann Wright

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design by Melody Pond

  By the Author

  Falling into Her

  Breaking Down Her Walls

  Acknowledgments

  My heart belongs to Colorado. I grew up there. I experienced falling in love there, as well as my first heartbreak. It’s where I figured myself out. Colorado has a soul, and fortunate people get to feel that soul. When I started writing this story, I was hoping the process would help me stop missing everything about living there, but all it did was remind me why I fell in love with Colorado’s soul. I hope that I successfully made the mountains, the sky, the smells just as much a part of the story as the main characters, because for me? All of those things are why this story works to begin with.

  I want to thank Radclyffe, Sandy Lowe, and the Bold Strokes Books team for taking another chance on me and my words. This entire experience has been so incredible, and I am honored that anyone thinks my stories are worth telling. So, thank you.

  I also would like to thank my friends (writer friends included!) and family. For putting up with me when I had a deadline, for encouraging me when I was stuck in a rut, and for having a beer with me when I was so discouraged. The support and love I receive on a daily basis is so important, and I love every second, even when it might not seem that way.

  Of course, I want to thank my amazing editor, Barbara. Your humor, wit, offerings of cake, and knowledge are so wonderful, and I thank the higher powers that I’m fortunate enough to have you on my side. Let’s saddle up those unicorns and head into the sunset.

  Also, I would like to thank my beta readers. Without either one of you, this would never have been what it is today. And I love you both for helping and encouraging and for rooting for these insanely flawed characters, especially for Julia, because she may be more like me than any other character I’ve ever created.

  And I always save the best for last…I want to thank my readers. I never thought I’d ever be able to say that! But I do have some and it makes me so happy. I can’t even describe the happiness, and I’m a writer! I should be able to explain things! The excitement you all had for Falling Into Her, and now for Breaking Down Her Walls, is so amazing and wonderful and unexpected. Thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

  For anyone who has felt worthless…

  You’re worth it. You’re always worth it.

  Chapter One

  Julia Finch’s lime green ’75 Dodge Dart stutters to a stop, clearly just as tired from the long drive as she is. She’s been pushing her trusty friend hard for the past three days and is surprised the car has made it this far. Julia figured it’d crap out somewhere in Kansas. Hell, or ten feet away from her rundown studio apartment in Chicago. Now she’s hoping to God it doesn’t die on her in this small Colorado town that she was detoured to. She didn’t pay much attention to the Falling Rocks signs, but when the highway was closed due to a rock slide, she realized maybe she should have heeded their warning.

  She glances around the empty parking lot of the general store from the safety of her vehicle and wonders if she has stumbled into another realm. The town is straight from what she imagines the 1950s may have looked like. She hopes to God no one sees her and tries to be cordial. Julia always runs into someone somewhere who wants to learn more, ask more, look more than she wants or needs. And this place seems like just the spot where the people may have nothing better to do than ask questions.

  Julia is angry about the detour. She just wants to drive and get away from Chicago, but now she’s in this wide spot in the road for who knows how long? She takes a couple breaths and tells herself to calm down. She’s farther along in her travels than she thought she’d be with only a couple days’ travel. She needs a shower and a good night’s sleep with clean sheets, so maybe this is the perfect opportunity.

  When Julia stands, her knees ache, and she dreads the thought of getting back in her car for even another second. The temperature outside is warm, probably high eighties, and the sun is shining high and bright in the sky. Rocky, snowcapped peaks surround the town with a striking blue backdrop. Julia’s not sure if she’s ever seen a sky that color blue before. The colors are so vivid and beautiful that they practically take her breath away. She’d been so engrossed in driving and so pissed off about the detour that she didn’t even bother looking at the scenery.

  Julia looks up and down the main drag before hastily yanking her long blond hair back into a ponytail. She’s hot and irritated, and this Podunk town is doing nothing for her mood. The street is littered with normal small-town staples: a pharmacy, a hardware store, a rinky-dink restaurant, a post office, and a Sinclair gas station with a giant green dinosaur in front of it. Quite a few people are walking from store to store, waving their hellos to each other, probably asking how the family is doing, how are the kids, how is little Suzie’s ear infection.

  “Try not to stick out like a sore thumb,” Julia mumbles. She grabs a grocery basket on her way through the squeaky store door, slips the arm of her sunglasses over the neck of her black tank top, and tries to take her own advice. There’s an older woman with very short gray hair toward the back working in the deli and a younger woman by the cash registers dressed like she’s ready for a night on the town—certainly not this town. But another, more amazing town that actually has a nightlife. Julia nods a greeting toward the woman behind the deli counter and starts down the first aisle.

  Julia grabs a few necessities (Doritos, bananas, a loaf of bread, Little Debbie snack cakes, three large bottles of water) and stops by the deli counter, where she receives a gentle nod from the older woman. Her name tag says “Agnes.” Julia smiles. “Can I get a half pound of the smoked turkey?” she asks. Agnes peers at her from over a pair of glasses that have seen better days. The righ
t arm is being held together with a piece of duct tape, and for some reason, Julia finds it ridiculously adorable.

  “Sure thing, miss.” Agnes goes to work, slapping cold cuts onto the scale, occasionally looking up and glaring from over the top of the rickety glasses. “Just the turkey?” she asks, nodding toward Julia.

  Julia crosses her arms and adjusts her stance. “Yes. Unless you have a suggestion on some of these salads.”

  “Well,” Agnes says as she bags the cold cuts and slides the plastic baggie across the cooler, “I made them, so they’re all good.”

  “You made them? Like, from scratch?” Julia is shocked. When was the last time she was in a grocery store where a single, solitary person just whipped up the pasta salad?

  Agnes nods and when she does so, the extra skin under her neck nods along. She points to a couple of the salads. “This one here is good. I’m a fan of the broccoli raisin salad here.” And then her finger from behind the glass lands on one. “The potato salad is the best, though. My great-granny’s recipe. I’d get yourself some of that.”

  “Okay, then,” Julia says, clearing her throat. “I’ll take a quarter pound.”

  “Better take a half pound. You won’t be disappointed.”

  “Well, all right.” A smile comes to Julia’s lips. “Thank you.”

  “Is that all?”

  Julia nods and picks up the bag of turkey. “Maybe you could,” she says and worries her bottom lip with her teeth, “tell me where I could get a room for a few days. Since, y’know, I’m not from around here.”

  Agnes lets out a low chuckle, one that says obviously you aren’t from around here. She wipes her hands on her apron before saying, “There’s a motel a couple blocks down on your left. Should have some accommodations for your type.”

  Your type? “Thanks,” Julia says after furrowing her brow. What the hell is that supposed to mean? My type? She makes her way up to the checkout line to pay. The young, leggy brunette running the cash register is helping a guy who’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt, blue jeans, and a cowboy hat. The girl is pretty in a way that screams for attention, especially considering the way she’s dressed, but she’s also plain in a way that is so small town that it almost makes Julia sad. It’s not like Julia’s much older than the girl. In fact, they may be the same age. Twenty-six, twenty-seven, but damn, Julia instantly feels like she’s lived a lifetime compared to this girl.

  Julia hears the pretty clerk ask the cowboy if he’s hired a new ranch hand yet. He takes his hat off, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and laughs. When he answers that it’s not easy to find someone who will work for nothing, his voice is as smooth as silk with a country twang. Julia agrees; it sounds like a horrible gig.

  When it’s Julia’s turn, the clerk eyes her suspiciously as she takes out each item from the basket and types in the numbers of the prices with ease. Julia feels uncomfortable and notices her palms are sweating.

  “You’re not from around here. Where’d you blow in from?” the pretty clerk asks, a smile spreading across her bright red lips.

  “You don’t miss a beat, do you?” Julia rubs her palms on her cut-off shorts and smiles.

  “Don’t get a lot of tourists. You in town for long?”

  “Not sure. Just until they can clear that rockslide,” Julia answers as she holds out a twenty-dollar bill to pay for the groceries.

  “That’ll take a day or so,” the clerk says. “Those are very common, but dammit if they don’t act like it’s the first frickin’ time it’s ever happened.”

  “Great.” Julia sighs. “I heard there’s a motel a couple blocks down?”

  “The Hide-A-Way Inn.” The clerk narrows her eyes. “You don’t exactly look like the type that stays in one spot for long.”

  Julia smiles, then glances around the general store. “You might be right about that.” She looks back at the brunette and nods. “Of course, people do change.”

  “Not around here they don’t,” the clerk replies. “Name’s Toni, by the way.”

  “Toni?”

  “Well, Antoinette. But I hate the formality of it. So, Toni.”

  Julia introduces herself and watches as the newly named Toni bags the last of her groceries. After a thank you and a “It’s nice to meet you,” Toni rips off a piece of receipt paper and scribbles a number onto it. “If you stay for longer, give me a call. We’ll go get a drink together. The Main Street Tap is a hole in the wall, but the bartender pours a mean beer. And you’re gonna need it. Those temps out there can be real unforgiving.”

  Julia nods and shrugs. “We’ll see,” she says as she grabs her bags and heads outside, the temperature rising and rising.

  * * *

  Toni is absolutely right. The Main Street Tap is a complete hole in the wall. But it is right next to the Hide-A-Way Inn, which is a nice bonus. The bar is the epitome of an old dive bar on the outside—and surprise, surprise, that is exactly what it is on the inside. Dark, dingy, smelling like old beer and cigarettes. A sign behind the bar reads, “We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, no matter who you are, who you think you are, or who your daddy is.”

  “Can I get a Jack on the rocks and an ice water?” Julia asks over the dull roar of a twangy country music tune after she settles onto a stool toward the end of the bar.

  The bartender, who looks like he’s about the same age as Julia, looks up from washing glasses, then down the bar top at her. He turns around, wipes his hands on a towel, and grabs the neck of the bottle of Jack Daniel’s. As he pours the dark liquid, the ice cracks in the fresh glass. He glances up again at Julia. “Anything else, Blondie?”

  “An ice water?” she asks again.

  “Like, with no alcohol in it?”

  “Yeah, like, water. With ice.” Julia hopes her face isn’t showing that she thinks this guy is a complete moron. She watches him shake his head as he pours water over a glassful of ice.

  “That’ll be four dollars.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah, four dollars.”

  Julia can’t hide the shocked expression on her face. “Jack Daniel’s, right?”

  “Look, Blondie, I gave you what you asked for.”

  “Okay, okay. Geez.” Julia slides a five-dollar bill over the bar top to the man. He slams his hand onto the money and moves it closer to him. Julia stares at the glass of Jack in front of her. She tries to hide her eagerness to down the liquid but fails as she swipes the glass from the counter and downs the entire glass. She notices the bartender watching her. He’s rubbing his stubble, a look in his eyes that is both strange and scary. He places both of his palms on the bar top. His hair is a dusty blond, and he has deep blue eyes and honestly, he is really cute. If she was in the mood for sloppy sex with a man, she’d probably entertain whatever ideas are going through his head. She doesn’t turn down sex these days, regardless of who’s on the giving end. Equal opportunities, she likes to tell herself, when really all it means is she doesn’t want to be connected to anyone for any amount of time if she can help it.

  Normally, she can help it.

  “You need another?” the bartender asks.

  She nods, he delivers, and she pays. It’s a beautiful dance, and she’s pretty sure that if she could afford it, she would sit here all day and drink herself into a deep, dark hole.

  Julia ducks her head as she reaches for the glass, then looks at her phone. She’s been tapping at the screen trying to track how far she’s off the beaten path now that this detour has happened. The map keeps loading and loading, showing nothing but a spinning refresh wheel. She looks up at the bartender as she swirls the liquid in the glass, the ice cubes clinking against each other. “Am I not going to get a signal here?”

  “Not really. If you wanted a signal, you should have stayed near whatever city that accent hails from.”

  “Awesome,” Julia breathes. She slips her phone back into the back pocket of her cut-offs. “Do you think you could tell me how far the highway is fr
om here? I’m trying to look it up on the maps app, but…”

  He laughs. “Blondie, you’re pretty far off your path. You headed west?”

  Julia tilts her head. It’s none of his business where the hell she’s headed. “Something like that.” She hears the bartender huff. What is it with these people? Why are they all so interested? When she glances around, she notices a man at the end of the bar top; his cowboy hat is sitting on the counter in front of him, and a small woman with dark hair and a pixie haircut is next to him. Julia overhears the man say something about a ranch hand and if he doesn’t find one soon, “Bennett is gonna have his head.”

  “Wait a second,” Julia mumbles, making it obvious that she’s eavesdropping. It’s the same guy from earlier that day in the general store. “Hey,” she shouts at the bartender; he lifts his head and walks closer to her area. “What’s up with this guy?” She jerks her thumb toward the couple.

  “Elijah?” the bartender asks. “He’s the lead rancher in charge of recruitment at the Bennett Ranch. Needs another ranch hand or Bennett is not going to be happy.”

  “Recruitment?” Julia asks, a laugh escaping from her throat. “It’s not a college, for Christ’s sake.”

  The bartender purses his lips and shakes his head. “You obviously do not know how perfect Bennett wants everything. And I mean everything.”

  “Yeah, probably not, since I’m not from around here.” The sarcasm is dripping from her words. “Why do they need another one so bad? Someone die?”

  “Good gravy,” the bartender says, his voice low. “You need to watch your tongue, Blondie, unless you like enemies.”