Page 1 of Rancher's Heart

CHAPTER 1

GRIFF

Dust hung in the night air, illuminated by the lights from the fair's midway. As the night went on, the jovial screams echoing from the roller coasters slowly waned out. From my spot behind the bar, I saw that the rodeo grounds were still crawling with people hollering and clinking glasses without a care in the world, though.

After the last call, I filled drink orders for the last few stragglers, hoping to get one more in before the end of the night. Once I posted the closed sign up on the sticky bar top, I started stacking the discarded plastic cups and wiping down the area in hopes of getting out of here before the sun came up again. From the corner of my eye, I saw something whip across the dance floor looking up, I saw a kid standing there having the time of his life, dancing along to the music. It’s three in the morning; who the fuck is letting a kid run all over the place?

I needed to go home.

“Hey man, that was a great ride. Couldn’t believe someone your size could ride that well.” A man in a straw cowboy hat, polo shirt, skinny jeans and tennis shoes leaned on the bar.

“Thanks, what can I get ya?” I ask, brushing off his comment. I’d been hearing it all my life, and I was tired of it. I'm tall, and Itake care of my body, so I'm solid, but it’s not like I rode pro or anything, but keeping my center of gravity wasn’t that difficult for me.

“Not chatty are you?” He scowled at me.

“Look man, we're already closed. You missed last call, but I’m willing to help you out; what can I get you?” I grabbed the white rag and wiped down the counter from the shots the barely legal girls spilled only moments ago.

“A beer,” he said as he bobbed his head in time with the cover band that was playing. They assured the committee they sounded like a mix between Alabama and Hootie and the Blowfish. Even if I had earplugs in, I wouldn’t make that connection, but when most of the people were tipsy, I supposed they didn’t care as long as there was a tune to dance to.

The cold of the bottle seeped through my fingers and as I reached to hand the guy his drink, it slipped from my fingers and shattered when it hit the dirt. “Fuck, sorry, man,” I said as I reached with my other hand back into the fridge and got him a new one. “There you go.”

“Thanks, see you around.” He slapped his money on the counter and walked off. With any luck I’d never see that guy again.

“Hey pal, what happened?” I turned to see Ryder, my business partner and best friend frowning at me as I picked up the glass.

“Nothing, just dropped it.” The glass tinged off the side of the metal garbage can as I threw it away. Standing I rinsed my now muddy fingers off in the sink and turned to him. “What’s up?”

Ryder was on the security team tonight so him at the bar gave me pause. “Nothing, just shutting the bar down.” He grinned.

“Finally,” I groaned as I pulled off the apron I was wearing and threw it in the rag bin. Looking to my left, I gave Lydia a wave. She was at the other end of the bar and had been mypartner back here all night. She was tall with dark hair, and looked so much like her sister they could have been twins. Her eyes were brown, and she could light up the dark with her smile. I didn’t mind working with Lydia, even with the icy blast coming off her as she looked at Ryder.

“Let’s go before you get into another verbal sparring with your ex-wife’s sister,” I grumbled as he followed me to the truck. “I thought you’d agreed to a truce?” I asked as I lifted the bar top and ducked under it.

“Yeah well, the truce is on shaky ground, apparently,” Ryder grumbled.

“I’m exhausted from wandering all over the fairgrounds, you can drive.” Ryder tossed me the keys. Reaching out to catch them, they slid right through my hand and landed in a puff of dirt at my feet.

“You dropped a beer, and now you’re dropping keys. Everything okay?” Ryder asked as I crouched to pick up the keys so we could leave.

“Yeah, just tired.” I brushed him off and climbed into the truck. Thankfully, we were both exhausted, so neither of us bothered to make small talk. I could tell Ryder wasn’t buying the excuse I’d told him about my hand.

It didn’t take long to find the truck, as people were clearing out at a record pace. The black Ford one-ton truck sat under one of the few lights in the parking lot. Our brand on the side of the truck stuck out like a sore thumb. The decal was white, and on the black background it didn’t matter if there were lights or not. You could see it. I liked my truck, that wasn’t so loud and didn’t broadcast who I was, and Ryder was the complete opposite. How we’d become best friends still confused me some days, but he’d been in my corner every step of my adult life.

At one time, we’d all lived in the main house, but as my business partners found the loves of their lives, it was time to stop living like we were in a fraternity and be adults.

Kipp Miller, whose family owned the original Flying Diamond ranch, still lived in the main house his grandfather built. He’d married the ranch cook, Nora, they had a couple of kids now, and they were disgustingly in love with one another.

Nash Powers grew up on this ranch because his father had been the ranch boss, and he and Kipp were best friends. Nash fell in love with Kipp’s sister, Fallon, and they have two daughters. Nash’s parents were divorced, and his father, Fred, ran the local coffee shop with his fiancé Wanda. When Nash decided to move out, he bought his childhood home and moved it on to his land here at the ranch.

Ryder and I had built homes along the lake, and partner five, Lincoln Felder, lived in a house away from the main ranch in a home on one of the ranches we acquired over the years. It all worked, but there were days I missed being “the five” like we used to be.

Ryder’s home appeared, and I looked at the small two-bedroom home he’d built. The porch was magnificent and boasted more square feet than his house, but since he wasn’t ever going to let another woman break his heart, he swore he didn’t need any more space. As long as he could have a beer on the porch with friends he was happy. “I’ll bring the truck back tomorrow,” I said as he opened the door and nodded. He tapped on the hood of the truck as he rounded the front and headed inside.

Taking the back road, I drove along the lake, the moon shimmering off the still water. As I made the last turn toward my home, I smiled as the porch light shone, and for the first time I really wondered what it would be like to have someone at home waiting for me.

Unlike Ryder, I’d built my home to be my sanctuary. I never needed to leave this spot. It was a large ranch-style home with four bedrooms, three baths and a massive open-concept living area. A wrap-around porch gave me the benefit of a lake view or a view of the mountains depending on where I wanted to relax at the end of the day.

Pulling to a stop, I took the keys out of the ignition, tossed them in the cup holder, and stepped out of the truck. The sound of my door slamming shut echoed through the night, and off the mountains made the ducks in the lake squawk and splash around, startled by the intrusive sound waking them up from their sleep. As I walked up the sidewalk, I pictured trees I’d planted standing tall to provide shade and a place to hang a tire swing, like the one I grew up playing on. My entire life was ready and waiting to start when the right woman came along.

---