Roping Melanie by Melissa Ellen

2

Nash

“I have to admit, it sure is nice out here,” Rome said and clapped me on the shoulder as we both stared across the sprawling field in front of us.

I nodded in agreement at my friend’s statement. He was passing through town headed to a chute out event in Corpus Christi with hopes to gain some extra points and money. He’d called me up not thirty minutes ago, saying he wanted to meet up with me before he continued his trek south.

The sun peeked out over the horizon, filling the expansive Texas sky with bright oranges that faded into shades of blue. The morning dew still covered the ground, glistening on the long blades of grass. The songs of the early morning birds were the only sound besides the crunch of the gravel below our boots as we walked a little farther down the dirt drive, scoping out the land.

There was nothing for miles. Nothing but wide open range, large oak trees in the distance that lined the edges of the property, and a small creek that wound through the three hundred acres. And it was all mine. Or it would be as soon as I closed on it come Monday morning.

This ranch would be where I’d hang my hat and train when I wasn’t traveling from city to city, rodeo to rodeo. Owning my own ranch was one of two dreams I had since I was a boy. It only came in second behind becoming a world champion bull rider. As soon as I signed those papers, both dreams will have come true.

Seven years ago, I’d won my first gold buckle in Vegas and was named the World Champion bull rider of the PBR. It was a night I’d never forget for more reasons than one . . . images of the beautiful brunette I’d met in the hotel bar that night invaded my train of thought.

Melanie was her name.

It was a name I’d never forget.

I’d always regretted not getting more than that from her. Every year I returned to Vegas for the PBR championship, I secretly hoped to see her again. It was a long shot. My odds at winning big on the roulette tables in the casinos were better than that happening. If only she’d been a local and not a tourist.

The loud rumbling of a truck pulled me from my thoughts. Rome and I both turned to watch its approach. Dust from the dirt road kicked up behind it as it neared and then slowed before parking beside both of our trucks. As the driver climbed out, we strolled back in his direction, meeting him halfway.

“Thanks for coming all the way out here on such short notice,” I said as we neared, offering my hand to Tucker Monroe.

He was the contractor I’d hired over the phone to help develop the property and build the house, barn, and cattle and horse pens for my future home. This was the first time we were meeting in person. Not only was he a skilled contractor, but his family was one of two that owned most of the land around here.

Tucker gave my hand a firm shake. “Not a problem. Glad to hear things are finally moving forward for you. Have to say, I’m surprised Taylor was willing to part with even a small piece of his land,” Tucker said through a grin, referring to the other family dynasty of Billingsley.

“He didn’t part with it easily, that’s for sure,” I said through a grin, tucking a hand into the front pocket of my jeans. “The man drove a hard bargain, but I finally got him to come around. His daughter might’ve helped persuade him a bit too,” I admitted with a shrug.

Scott Taylor was a fourth-generation rancher. He was as tough as they came until it came to his daughter. Abby Taylor was a force to be reckoned with all on her own, and it seemed her father was no match. She had him wound around her finger tight. Luckily for me, she didn’t have any interest in becoming a rancher like the generations before her. She’d rather have the cash in the bank than the land in her name.

I’d used that bit of knowledge to my benefit in order to strike a deal. Besides, it wasn’t like she was left with nothing. Scott Taylor owned plenty more. What I purchased was just a small piece of a very large pie. He still had thousands of acres in Texas to leave his daughter and any grandkids he might have in his will.

“Yeah, because she was hoping you’d take her for a ride on your—”

With the back of my hand, I smacked Rome on his shoulder, cutting him off.

He glared at me and rubbed at his shoulder. “Still don’t know why you weren’t all over that,” he continued under his breath. “I sure would’ve been.”

Rome had been with me when I initially met Scott and Abby six months ago at a five-star restaurant in Dallas. It had been a chance meeting. The place wasn’t somewhere I’d typically frequent, but Rome had won first place and a big purse that night in the rodeo. To celebrate, he wanted the best steak money could buy. After a few drinks with the Taylors at the bar while we waited for our tables, we’d learned about their ranch in Greene County. The next thing I knew, I was making an offer and a trip to check the property out. It was love at first sight. The land, that is. Not Abby.

There was a slight lift at the corner of Tucker’s mouth. “Fair warning, I’d steer clear of that one.”

“Something I should know?” I asked Tucker with a smirk, having already drawn my own opinion of Abby Taylor. I may have led her on a bit with some harmless flirting in hopes to close the deal, but I had zero interest in the woman. She had high maintenance written all over her. “She gave me the same advice about you when I mentioned you’d be my contractor the other day.”

Tucker chuckled with an amused shake of his head. “I was engaged to her at one point in time.”

It all made sense now. When Abby Taylor had turned sour at the mention of Tucker’s name, it was obvious it had been personal, not professional. It’s why I hadn’t paid her much mind. I was familiar with the drama that came from growing up in a small community. Plus, I’d already spoken to Tucker a few times before, and he came highly recommended by a buddy of mine from the PBR that lived in the next county over.

“Ended badly I’m guessing?”

“Ended for the better,” Tucker replied, a grin still on his lips. It was obvious he had no heartache over their failed relationship. “But that’s a long story I don’t want to bore you with. You wanted to meet to talk business, not about my love life.” He jutted his chin toward the spot I’d picked out for the house. “That still where you want it?”

I peered over my shoulder at the small cluster of trees not far from the creek. “Yeah. What do you think?”

His gaze traveled briefly over the untouched landscape before coming back to me. “It’s as good a spot as any. The trees will provide you some shade when the summers hit.”

I nodded in agreement as those had been my exact thoughts.

“Let me grab the construction plans and a few things from my truck,” Tucker continued. “We can stake out the main corners of the house to give you a better idea. Make sure it’s what you want.”

After a couple of hours, we had all the corners staked for both the house and the barn. We stood on what would be the back porch, looking out toward the creek. In six months, I’d finally have a home to call my own. Somewhere to settle down when the time was right. A place to raise a family of my own someday.

“It’s going to be a nice view when it’s all done,” Tucker commented from beside me, arms crossed.

It was already a perfect view. It wasn’t the beautiful mountain scenery I grew up with in Wyoming, but it was just as breathtaking to me. There was something about the wide open ranges that called to me. It was freeing. As if nothing and nobody could hold you back.

Tucker lifted his ball cap, wiping the sweat from his brow. “What do you say we get out of this heat and grab a drink? There’s a bar called Dudley’s not far from here. It’s a good place for us to go over any final details and numbers.”

“Sounds perfect,” I agreed. “We’ll follow you.”

We loaded up in our trucks and headed back toward town.