“Don’t fall in love with the first cowboy you meet,” warned her Uncle, poking fun as he hugged her goodbye in the Billings Airport in Montana.
She hugged him back with a hearty laugh, wrestling with her reading material – Montana, Wyoming, and Bridal magazines that her cousin had picked out for her moments before. She turned to say goodbye before entering the security line. “This was it,” she thought. “This was my day.” She had already fallen in love and everyone knew it. There wasn’t a cowboy in town that could take his place on a whim.
Manic, worn thin and highly delusional, she boarded the plane next to none other than a cowboy in his hat and rustic get-up. He smelled of fire and charcoal. And she liked that. It was a natural scent to her and made her feel instantly at ease with the man.
“You from around…
View original post 2,893 more words