Easton [Belt Buckle Ranch 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

Belt Buckle Ranch 4

Easton

Easton Baker is a hard working farmer from Oklahoma. One day while he’s out in the fields, a PI shows up with a manila envelope and changes the course of his life. With the blessing of his grandma, Easton packs a bag and heads to Colorado to meet the father he never knew. When he arrives, Easton finds out he’s too late.

Trent Weston owns a ranch called, Twin Acres. He’s also the executor of William Rickett’s will – Easton’s father. When he goes to the Belt Buckle Ranch and meets Easton, Trent is immediately smitten, but keeps his distance. He’s experienced a lot of loss, the death of his parents and brother, and is afraid to open his heart.

When Trent needs help at his ranch, Easton is the first to volunteer. It doesn’t take long for the men to jump into a sexual relationship. Trent tries to keep things casual as Easton falls in love.

Genre:
Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Western/Cowboys

Length:
28,398 words
 

Belt Buckle Ranch 4

Olivia Black

EVERLASTING CLASSIC

MANLOVE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove

EASTON

E-book ISBN:
978-1-63258-276-8

First E-book Publication: September 2014

Cover design by Harris Channing

All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

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Easton
by Olivia Black from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

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To all the readers: thank you for the love and support.

EASTON

Belt Buckle Ranch 4

Olivia Black

Copyright © 2014

Prologue

Easton Baker had been awake since before dawn. He’d done almost all of his morning chores. And now, he was sitting on a small wooden stool, milking the cow. His day wasn’t over though, not by a long shot. The work was piling up and Easton was busy from sun-up to sun-down. He loved his home in Oklahoma, but he really wanted to get away. He didn’t want to work on his grandparent’s farm for the rest of his life, but it looked as if he were stuck.

All of his friends had gone away to college years before and were off living their lives. But Easton stayed with his grandparents. Over the years, things had changed and time passed. He’d aged and opportunities that had been present slowly disappeared. His grandfather passed away, which had devastated both him and his grandmother. Her health was now failing and he was struggling to keep it all together.

He wanted to help his grandmother, but part of him wanted to run away from the responsibility. That feeling left him submerged in guilt. His grandparents raised him and he felt as if he owed them. His mother had left him at their door step when he was only a boy. She couldn’t afford to raise him, but more importantly, she didn’t want him around when she was still young. She never came back and he had a lot of anger in his heart still.

He patted the cow’s side in thanks as he went about his day. The sun was rising, birds chirping and singing. At least they were happy to be alive. He couldn’t say the same. He wasn’t alive. Instead, he was in a cycle and doing the same thing each day.

When was the last time he’d had any free time? When had he gone out with friends? Shaking his head, Easton couldn’t answer any of those questions. This farm had become his life. He tried not to have a bad attitude, but some days, like today, he had to choke down the frustration.

By mid-afternoon, Easton was out in the fields driving the old beat-up tractor. The property was considerably smaller than his neighbors’, but he managed to grow and sell enough wheat to pay the bills. Easton usually tended the garden in the early evening hours with his grandmother to get the extra food they needed. She tried to help, but with her age and health, she couldn’t do much.

A cloud of dirt got Easton’s attention and he stopped the tractor and watched as a car drove toward him. He didn’t recognize the vehicle. Deciding to meet the driver halfway, Easton turned the tractor and headed toward the small makeshift road. When he got near the car, it stopped, and an older gentleman got out. He waved his hand and Easton tipped his head in acknowledgment. He shut the engine off and climbed down, stretching out his cramped legs.

“Afternoon, sir,” Easton greeted.

“Easton Baker?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, what can I do for you?” Easton took off his cowboy hat and pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket. He wiped his forehead, studying the stranger.

“I’m sorry to bother your work day. Your grandmother said you’d be out here,” the man said, looking around.

“No problem. I was in need of a break anyway.” Easton shrugged, still waiting for the man to introduce himself and state his business.

“My name is Thomas Creed and I’m a private investigator. I was sent by my employer, William Rickett.” The name didn’t sound familiar to Easton and his facial expression must’ve given his thoughts away because the man continued. “You don’t know him, but he knows all about you. Here…” He handed Easton a large manila envelope and he took it. “All the information is inside. Read through it at your earliest convenience. It’s very important.”

“Mr. Creed, I’m a very busy man. Why don’t you just tell me what this William Rickett fella wants?” Easton asked, waiting for an answer. He didn’t have time to look through a thick envelope and search for answers. He had too much damn work to do and the day wasn’t over.

“The documents will be able to outline everything,” he said, and started to turn to leave.

“Mr. Creed.” Easton stopped him. “I’m a simple man. Just tell me what’s going on.”

He exhaled and smiled. “You’re the only one that’s asked so far. William Rickett is a very sick man, he’s dying. I hate to be the bearer of bad news.” He looked slightly uncomfortable, but it was obvious there was a hell of a lot more to the story. “You’re one of his sons. He’s requesting your presence at his ranch in Colorado.”

Easton stood stunned. His father was looking for him? He never even knew the man’s name. William Rickett. He said it inside his mind, trying to get his thoughts in order.
Holy hell!
And the man was sick and dying. Easton pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and tried to process. Could he really leave the farm in Oklahoma and travel to Colorado? Could he even consider leaving his grandmother behind?

“I know this is a lot to take in, but inside that envelope”—he nodded toward the thick manila envelope inside Easton’s hand—“are a plane ticket, cash, and all the information you need to confirm that my words are the truth,” Mr. Creed said, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“I don’t know if I can,” he voiced, barely a whisper.

“If you want my opinion, I think you should use the cash to pay some bills. Take the airplane ticket and fly there. This may very well be the only chance you’ve got to meet him. He owns the Belt Buckle Ranch right outside of Telluride, Colorado. He’s not going to make it much longer, I’m afraid.” The words pierced Easton’s heart. He didn’t even know the man, but he felt bad that his life was ending.

“Thanks for the advice. I appreciate you coming out.” Easton placed his cowboy hat back on his head. He needed to get back to work and do some serious thinking.

“I hope you can make it to the ranch.” Mr. Creed said his good-byes and headed out.

Easton waited until the man got into his car before climbing back up into the tractor. He started the engine and went back to work. His mind was no longer on the task at hand. Instead, he was thinking about William Rickett, his father, and wondering what the future held.

After working all day, Easton was bone tired.

He climbed up the steps that led to the farm house where he’d lived all his life. The sun was low in the sky and his stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t taken a lunch break. Opening the door, he stepped inside and took off his boots before strolling into the kitchen. When his grandmother saw him, her face lit up and she grabbed his plate out of the oven.

“Hi, honey. Did you have a good day?” she asked, kissing his forehead before setting the plate on the table.

Easton smiled and sat down. He picked up the fork and started shoveling the food into his mouth. He was exhausted. His muscles ached, his back hurt, and he could barely keep his eyes open. He couldn’t keep up the routine much longer.

“I spoke with that private investigator when he came by looking for you. I think you should go to Colorado. I’ve been thinking for a while that it might be time to sell this place.” Easton’s head jerked up and he stared at the woman that had been more of a mother than a grandma with surprise. “You work too hard. I want you to have more than this farm. You deserve so much more.”