OVER THE BRIDGE
Pairing: Beau Arlen x Soulmate!Reader
Summary: Your car is teetering on the edge of a rickety bridge. When Sheriff Beau Arlen arrives at the scene to help you, he realizes that for the first time in his life, he can hear his soulmate’s thoughts.
AN: Happy Beau Wednesday! And here we go—my last bingo square for @jacklesversebingo … Round 1! 😉 That’s right, I’m gearing up for a Round 2 of fun prompts! But I had to do something for Beau before I closed out this masterlist for the first round. I’ve also been wanting to do another soulmate AU, since I haven’t written one since Never Say Goodbye (Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader). I’ve never seen one for Beau Arlen, so I thought, the time is now! Lol
Jacklesverse Bingo Prompt: “I’m gonna take care of this, but until I do, I need to get you somewhere safe.”
Posted on Patreon: 4/09/2025
Word Count: 4.2K
Tags/Warnings: Survival situation, sort of meet cute lol, angst, soulmates, and romantic fluff.
JVB Masterlist || Beau Arlen Masterlist
You picked your head up slowly from the airbag. You could barely feel that side of your face.
Blood began to drip into your eye, but you managed to wipe it away. You glanced down at your hand to watch the tremble in it, curiously.
Your gaze drifted beyond it, beyond your steering wheel. A sea of wheat-like grass and beds of gravel looked ready to meet you through your windshield. The groan of metal accompanied a slight rocking of your little 2009 Toyota Corolla, back and forth. You sucked in a shaky breath and tried to hold in the urge to cough.
Your chest hurt. It was sharp and aching where your seatbelt clung tightly to your ribs.
Then, your heart fell into your stomach as you realized…
Your car was teetering on the edge of the Morelli Bridge. It was one of the few in Helena, Montana that hadn’t yet been replaced for repairs or sold for scrap, but you knew it was old. An old, old timber bridge, built in 1893…which meant you were infinitely screwed.
You braced yourself on the driver’s side door and held your breath, trying to keep the panic from rising up past the tightness in your throat. Your bruised body was otherwise paralyzed; you didn’t know what to do, or even why you were hit. But you could guess.
You glanced out your window through frizzy strands of your hair at the silver SUV that bulldozed into your back tires. The SUV had spiraled away from your car and hit a lamppost. Now the front of it was crunched like an accordion, where it was smoking on fire. Two men broke open the driver and passenger side doors open with their boots. They were dressed like ranchers in their long jackets, jeans, and Stetson hats, but when they hauled out guns along with them, your eyes widened.
What the hell’s going on?!
You heard a horde of police sirens coming closer, until their lights were half-blinding you through the back windows of your car. An unfamiliar thread of feeling laced through you then. You didn’t know exactly what it was, but it cut into your awareness, for a moment right through your fear.
Goosebumps spread across your arms. A tingling warmth enveloped you, comforted you, if just for a few seconds.
A white van striped with red was racing across the bridge along with the squad cars. Between your ringing ears, you almost thought you could hear a man’s chatter, giving orders to cut ‘em off. Form a perimeter. Like some kind of police scanner.
Tears of desperation filled your eyes.
Please. Please help me.
Beau Arlen heard the thought like it was his own, loud and clear as a bell.
His voice cut off mid-sentence as he was speaking to Jenny and into the police radio. She shot him a look—first in confusion, then in concern.
“Beau?” she prompted.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. His mouth opened to continue giving his instructions on how to round up these guys; they had already ducked behind their smoking car and were shooting at the squad cars pulling up to them. They’d been caught on the act of trying to steal a showhorse. Luckily the horse was safe and being taken to the precinct, but these dusty cowboys were on the run.
“You okay?” Jenny said. “It’s not often that you’re at a loss for words.”
Beau shot her a wry look. He opened his mouth to reply, but the voice in his mind grew even stronger. Sharper. Feminine, and desperate.
Hellooo! Can they even see I’m still alive over here? Oh, God. Please. I can’t move…
Beau blinked in confusion, but the sharp tug of fear and dread inside his chest was even harder to ignore than the thoughts in his head—thoughts that were most definitely not his own. It was the strangest sensation, like a vice-grip on his heart.
Christ, it can’t be, he thought. Here? Now? But where—
His eyes widened when he looked over and caught sight of a little blue Toyota Corolla. It was teetering on the edge of the bridge, already tipping toward the side of falling right off.
“Pull over here. Now!” Beau told Jenny.
His voice was serious and sharp enough that she did what he said without questioning. She might enjoy poking at him from time to time, but he was still the Sheriff, and after the summer they’d had solving the case of Buck Barnes and putting his wife behind bars, Jenny respected Beau. More than she ever thought she would.
She pulled her 1996 Ford Bronco over beside the Toyota. Beau had his seatbelt off before she even hit the brakes. She started to put it into Park, but he stopped her.
“You back up the squad. I’ll handle this,” he said. He opened the passenger door and climbed out.
“What?” she said incredulously. “If someone’s in there, you’re gonna need help.”
“That’s what the Fire Squad’s for,” Beau said, tossing a thumb behind him at the firetruck speeding towards the bridge. He threw Jenny’s passenger door shut and banged on it twice with an open hand, asking her without words to do what he said.
Jenny didn’t like it, but she peeled off to help the blockade of policemen trying to corral the men they were after.
Beau didn’t exactly know why his instinct was to go to the tipping car alone, but he understood it the moment he hurried over and found you through the driver’s side window. Tears streaked down your face while you sat there very still, and very terrified. Not only could he see it in your face, but he could feel it behind his ribs. It made his desire to help you even more visceral—like a gut punch that reached all the way up into his throat.
“Hey!” he called to you.
Your head whipped over to meet him, and your eyes widened in abject relief. He could feel that too, and it made him smile, even as his own heart began to trip up faster. He pulled at the car door handle.
“Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma’am. I’m gonna get you out. Don’t you worry,” he assured. “Can you unlock the door? Slowly. Try not to rock the boat, so to speak.”
You gave a jerky, minimal nod, and you reached over to press the “unlock” button. The sensor didn’t respond for the locks or the windows. Beau’s lips pressed together. No matter how he pulled at the door, it wouldn’t budge. All he had on him was his gun, a pocketknife, and a lockpick that wouldn’t do him much good here.
Damn it. Should’ve grabbed a slim jim, he thought.
Beau noticed the way you paused, your head tilting as you stared at him with wider eyes. It made him pause as well.
“Did you…did you say something?” you asked, raising your voice so you could be heard through the closed window.
Beau was about to respond when a firefighter captain approached from his right.
“Sheriff,” he greeted with a nod. The firetruck was parked near the Toyota, and there was an ambulance coming up from behind on the bridge. “Just the driver in the car?”
Beau nodded at him belatedly. “Yeah, just be real careful. It’s teetering on the edge of the bridge.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” the captain said. “You might wanna step back, Sheriff.”
Beau looked back over at your tear-streaked terrified face, and he shook his head. He wasn’t about to step out of your line of sight. He wanted you to know that he was here, and he wasn’t leaving you.
“Just get this door open for me first, and we’ll get her out,” he said.
The captain took note of Beau’s firmness, and so he agreed. Two more firefighters came with Halligans and power tools to pry the door open. All the while, Beau was focused on you. He could see your growing panic when the tools whirred loudly and shook the car.
Oh God, oh God, oh God. This thing’s going to tip over and I’m going to be a fucking gravel pancake!
Hearing your thoughts again was like another dousing of cold water to his senses, but he felt compelled to get closer—as close as he could without getting in the firefighters’ way.
It’s okay, darlin’. You’re not gonna tip over. I’m not gonna let that happen, he thought in reply. It was instinctual, but he knew that you heard him. He saw the way you gasped, even as another tear rolled down your cheek.
He was struck then by the look of you. Despite your frizzy hair and a line of blood drying down the side of your face, you were beautiful; your eyes, the shape of your face and the shade of your hair, and the way you were looking at him now, like you were crying for a whole different reason.
You…you’re…
Beau Arlen, ma’am, he answered, with his best charming smile (albeit a bit nervous). He carded a hand through his hair on reflex.
You managed to smile back, wiping your tears away. Yeah, you said that.
What’s your name then, darlin’?
You hesitated, but when you gave him your name, the roll of the letters and the sound of your voice…it all made a strange, warm tingle run down his spine. It filled him with a sensation of champagne bubbly, stirring low in his belly. His hand pressed harder against the Toyota’s hood without him realizing.
The car groaned and began to tip even more.
Shit! Beau’s eyes widened. You gasped and clung to the car seat by your nails.
“Beau!” you yelled out through the glass.
“Got it,” one of the firemen said, and he wrenched the door open.
Beau stepped in quickly and fished out his pocketknife. Flicking it open, he barely had time to meet your eyes before he tore through your seatbelt. Then he slid an arm around your back and under your knees, gathering you to his chest before he scooped you out of the car.
It was just in time for it to snap against the cables secured around the car. You wouldn’t have gone over the edge, even if Beau hadn’t grabbed you and pulled you out…but neither of you had known that.
Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you buried your teary face against his chest. You were shaking. Beau nodded at the firemen in thanks and walked a few more feet away from the car. The ambulance was having a hard time getting through on the narrow bridge with all the police cars and the firetruck itself, so Beau saw no other solution but to have you kneel down on the ground with him, using the firetruck as cover.
“You’re all right. I gotcha,” he said gently.
His heart clenched at the way you clung to him, trembling. You nodded shakily, swiping stray tears from your face. When you looked up at him, he was struck silent again.
Just straight up raw beauty. His lips parted, but not a sound came out. His mouth suddenly felt dry.
“Yes, thank you,” you said. The fear faded out of your expression, melting into a smile. “For the save, and for the, um…the compliment.”
Beau blinked in confusion. Complim— Aw, shit.
You’d heard his thoughts just now. Too bad it was entirely the truth. He couldn’t help but smile too, if a bit sheepishly.
The moment shattered when a trill of gunfire sounded. A couple of bullets actually pierced the firetruck, one of them taking out a side mirror. You screamed, but Beau instinctively protected you with his body. He covered you by tucking your head to his chest and wrapping his arm around you.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he said.
“But, my car—” you said, with a tremble in your voice. The firemen were still trying to pull it back onto the bridge. Beau nodded.
“I’m gonna take care of this, but until I do, I need to get you somewhere safe,” he said, cupping the back of your head. “Come on.”
He withdrew his gun and helped you to your feet. He hastened you over to the ambulance, covering your head and your body with his broad frame until he could guide you inside the vehicle. The paramedics collected you from there, but you still stopped short and turned to grab his arm.
“Wait! You’re going back there?” you asked, alarm lacing your tone.
Beau felt your worry for him, your instinct to cling to the newfound connection in your soul, the part of you that sensed its equal. It was like a warm thread thrumming strong between you, but also delicate.
Beau gave you a patient, apologetic smile. “Can’t leave my team hangin’. But don’t worry, I’ll come find you when I’m done here. So we can…”
Your eyes stared deeply into his, and somehow, he knew you were holding your breath. Beau grabbed your hand and squeezed with purpose.
“I’ll come find you,” he promised.
You were reluctant, but you eventually nodded. He was the Sheriff, you reminded yourself. Of course he had to go back. You released his hand, letting him slip away from you.
Every step he took back toward the crime scene—every step he took away from the ambulance revving up to drive away was another step that felt wrong, down to his bones. When the vehicle made its way across the bridge and eventually disappeared around the bend, the warm tendril of connection in his chest dissipated.
He didn’t come.
Not when you spent four hours in the hospital’s Emergency Department. Not when you took an Uber home, ordered takeout, and cried through the entire movie of Fools Rush In to try and make yourself feel like you were home, and not a shaken mess.
However, nothing you did made you feel as safe as you did when the Sheriff held your hand.
Beau Arlen, you reminded yourself. The name that felt branded under your skin, on your heart, the moment he locked eyes with you.
You snuggled yourself deeper into your collection of fuzzy blankets in bed. You pictured his bearded face in your mind, and that small smattering of freckles that only showed up when the firetruck’s headlights hit his face.
You remembered his strength, his little show of badassery when he cut you loose from the car. But most of all, you remembered feeling his determination and his caring. Even if he didn’t say it in words, or even in his thoughts, you knew what you’d felt from his soul connecting with yours. He wasn’t going to let you go over the bridge.
By Wednesday afternoon, you were standing in front of your last class of the day. Helena High School was large enough that you didn’t have every junior upperclassman in your classes, but your 12th grade Honors English class had to be your favorite. The kids were sharp, and they actually paid attention and took notes when you spoke, even if it was on Wuthering Heights.
“Bye, guys. Have a good day,” you waved at them after the last bell of the day rang.
“Bye, Miss!” the last few of them called back.
So polite, you smiled. That was also what you liked about the honors class. The last girl was struggling to pack everything up into her backpack. A book fell off her desk and tumbled to the floor. She looked up at you sheepishly, strands of her light brown hair slipping out of the ponytail and into her honey brown eyes.
“Sorry,” she said.
“I got it,” you said, and you slipped between the rows of desks to help her. John Grisham. Interesting…
“Legal thrillers, huh?” you noted. “Not your typical reading for a seventeen-year-old, but I dig it.”
Internally you wanted to slap your own forehead. Did people even say dig it anymore?
Emily didn’t seem to mind. She just laughed.
“I know. I’m just not that into…you know, sexy vampires, and sexy werewolves, and…sexy fairies.”
Your brows rose of their own accord. “Sexy fairies?”
She nodded, with a blushing smile. “Yeah. But um, anyway, my dad’s on his way, so I’ve got to get out front.”
“Oh, I’ll go with you,” you said. “It’s my turn to supervise student pickup with Mr. Harrison.”
You leave your classroom with Emily and head down the hall with thoughts other than lesson plans running through your head.
I can’t believe that man. You couldn’t keep the frown from crossing your face. Three days, and the Sheriff couldn’t be bothered to keep his promise? What, he couldn’t get my information from the paramedics? The hospital? My damn police report?
You’d gone to the Lewis & Clark Police Department the very next day after the incident to file it, but the Sheriff hadn’t been in his office. You’d asked a Deputy there, a pretty blonde woman, and she’d told you that he was on a case.
“Do you want to leave a message?” she’d asked, when she noticed you hesitating to leave.
“No,” you’d replied. “No, it’s okay. Thank you though.”
You sighed. It was kind of sad, really. You were an English teacher who couldn’t write a simple note…even if it was to your actual soulmate.
“Are you okay, Miss?” Emily asked, breaking you out of your reverie. You gave her a smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. Just thinking about everything I have to do before tomorrow’s class,” you lied. In fact, you lied through your teeth.
You two made your way outside the building and to the pickup and drop off area. You monitored most of the kids getting picked up, but Emily sat on one of the benches with her headphones in while she continued reading her John Grisham book. You smiled at the sight. It was nice to see kids reading of their own free will.
But you became a little concerned as the hour ticked by.
Geez, where’s her father?
You didn’t know much about her family, but you did remember that her parents were divorced. Her private attorney mother went to the PTA meetings whenever she could, outside of her busy schedule. Come to think of it, you supposed you knew where the interest in legal thrillers came from.
And suddenly, it hit you.
Emily Arlen…Arlen.
You gasped out loud, remembering the pair of green eyes that stared into yours so intensely, and the light brown hair that matched his daughter’s.
"Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma'am."
You jolted out of your thoughts when a red truck pulled into the pick-up zone and stopped at the curb. The man at the wheel honked twice, grinning at his daughter through the rolled down window. Your mouth fell open in soft shock.
“Finally,” Emily muttered, but she smiled when she looked up at her dad. She took out her headphones and stuffed her book into her backpack so she could go over to his truck.
She glanced at you as she passed by, about to tell you goodbye. Noting the spaced-out look on your face, she frowned and stopped short.
“Hey, aaaare you okay?”
It was the second time she was asking, but this time, you couldn’t lie to her. Because her dad followed her line of vision and finally found you standing there. His eyes went wide as well.
He quickly parked the car where it stood. He climbed out, and when he came around the hood toward you and Emily, his foot almost missed the curb and made him stumble.
You broke your frozen limbs out of the proverbial ice and reached out a hand, even though you weren’t even close enough to help. You held your other hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.
Beau righted himself, clearing his throat. Then he took measured steps over to you and his daughter. The cut of his beard, short brown hair that swept over his dark brows, and kind green eyes…he looked exactly the same, if with a different jacket. This one was beige and suede. It matched well with his blue jeans and boots. His shiny gold-on-leather badge hung on his belt.
“Hey, there,” he said, with a short wave.
Your smile grew. “Good afternoon, Sheriff.”
He smiled too, setting his hand on Emily’s shoulder.
“Dad, this is my English teacher,” she said.
Beau’s brows raised high. “Really. Small world.” His eyes were set on you, and they didn’t leave your face. You bit the inside of your lip as your face began to heat up in a blush.
Emily gave him a confused look. “What?”
Blinking, as if coming back to himself, he patted her back.
“Ah, you know what, I actually want to ask your teacher something. Mind waiting for me in the car?” he said. “Just don’t blast the music too loud, kay kiddo?”
Emily gave him a slightly suspicious look, but she did as he asked, waving goodbye to you. You waved back as she went over to the car. It left you with her father.
Beau swept his fingers through his hair. He was a bit nervous, and you were now picking up on it as the connection between you two flared to life. You felt it deep and warm and thrumming in your chest. At least you weren’t alone in your nerves.
“Looks like you’re doing well. I’m real glad for that,” he said.
You nodded. “I am, thanks to you.”
He smiled at that. It was genuine at first, before it turned rueful.
“I uh…I owe you an apology though,” he said.
“That’s a good place to start,” you replied, though you softened it with a somewhat playful gleam to your smile.
He chuckled, and it pulled at the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes. Somehow, you thought it just made his smile all the more charming.
Then, he seemed to pause. His lips tugged harder at the corner of his mouth.
“Well, me and my charming smile are most definitely sorry,” he said.
Your face fell. Shit. Did he hear that?
Oh, he most definitely did. His grin kicked up into a smirk.
You covered your mouth when a snort bubbled up, your face flaring with a hot blush.
“So we’re basically human lie detectors now. Great. Just…great,” you said, giggling a little.
Beau’s amusement soon faded. “Look, I can’t excuse myself. First I just…I thought you might want some space after what happened. I didn’t want to overwhelm you. Then…well, maybe I just started second-guessing, letting myself get busy. I had no idea you were Em’s teacher.”
Your head tilted as you considered him. After a moment, you softened with a sigh.
“She’s a good kid. Really smart too,” you said, taking a cautious step closer to him. “Think I know where she gets that from.”
Beau snorted. “Definitely from her mother.” But he drew closer to you too, with a meaningful look. “Who I’m civilly divorced from.”
“I know,” you nodded, “but thanks for that footnote.”
He was a bit hesitant, but he reached out and grasped your hand. You took in a deep breath through your nose at the shiver that ran up your spine. That feeling was different, like the burn of smokey, rich whiskey filling your chest. Your heart leapt as you looked up at his face.
Safe. That was the feeling.
“Do you think I might be able to take you out for dinner tomorrow?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t want to go too fast for you, but considering our situation—”
“Beau,” you stopped him with a gentle hand over his. “You literally saved me from falling off a bridge, not to mention a hailstorm of bullets.” You smiled up at him more brightly. “I already know what kind of guy you are. You also happen to be my soulmate. I think I would very much love to have dinner with you.”
When your words finally registered, Beau’s shoulders loosened in relief. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he glanced back and realized that Emily was still waiting in the front seat of his car and watching you two curiously.
Beau sighed. He knew he was in for a full spotlight interrogation on the way home, but he fished out his phone and texted you his number. Somehow he had it without asking for it first…
“So, can I call you later?” he asked, with another one of those smiles that set your insides fluttering.
“Ah, so you did get my cell number off my police report. And still you couldn’t manage to call me?” you teased.
Beau chuckled, ducking his head in embarrassment. Was he even starting to blush?
“Well, you got me there. I really am sorry, darlin’. I just—”
You reached out for him this time, squeezing a hand over his wrist.
“It’s okay, really,” you said. “You’re here now. Let’s just…figure out what this can be.”
Beau peeled his gaze from your hand and looked back into your eyes. He had to smile. If he let himself, he could feel you. Your relief, your good humor, and your hope. It all felt sweet as pie to him.
“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s do that.”
Despite lingering insecurities and the remnants of past mistakes threatening to dampen the moment in his mind, he had just one thing winning out above them all.
I’ve got a feeling this is gonna be good, he thought.
He hoped you could hear it.
AN: Bridgerton fans who have also seen Queen Charlotte will get one of those little references in there. 😘
▶️ Read the Sequel: CONNECTION
Summary: Beau saved you from your car nearly going over a rickety bridge, discovering he was your soulmate in the process. Now, the two of you enjoy a milestone date at the county fair.
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