spanned across the
rugged Texas terrain I loved so much.
This was the kind of luxury I had only
been exposed to in the pages of Texas Monthly or Southern Living
magazines. Everything was orderly and the room smelled as if it had
been recently cleaned. The lit fireplace suggested we were not
completely alone. As I looked out the paned glass windows, I could
see a row of smaller houses. It became apparent that he must have
arranged for someone to prepare the place for our
arrival.
I walked over to enjoy the warmth of
the fireplace. The only time I had ever seen a fireplace this big
was in movies about castles and on Lifestyles of the Rich and
Famous. I resisted the urge to pinch myself in order to remind
myself that I was actually here; standing in the middle of this
place—with him.
He walked up behind me and placed his
arms around my waist, hugging me from behind.
“ Since this position has
gotten us into trouble before, I’ll keep it brief,” he laughed.
“Let’s go for a ride.”
He gave me another playful swat on the
backside. Not that I minded, but it seemed he was developing quite
an appreciation for that part of my anatomy.
He took my hand and led me back to the
mud room. Waiting there for me was a beautifully colored Pendleton
Southwest blanket coat and a gorgeous brown felt Stetson hanging on
two of the hooks.
As he removed the jacket from the hook
and held it for me to put on, he said, “I had to guess on the
sizes. I hope they fit.”
I slid my arms into the jacket and
zipped it up. I reached back and pulled the band out of my hair. My
ponytail fell into long loose curls as I bent over to shake it out.
I threw my head back and slipped the cowboy hat in place—perfect
fit!
“ Really, you shouldn’t have.
You know you’re spoiling me. Thank you so much,” I was gushing
again.
This was the first time any man had
ever treated me so extravagantly. I tried not to go overboard with
my gratitude, but I did appreciate each and every one of his
gestures. He seemed to really get a kick out of my shocked looks
each time he surprised me with something. Little did he know how
much I had struggled and how very much these new experiences meant
to someone like me. Just within the short time I had known him, he
had already made up for every crappy Valentine’s Day I had ever
suffered through.
He stood there looking like something
that walked off a movie set. He was wearing different boots, better
suited for riding as opposed the expensive Luccheses. His hat was
different, too. It was weathered and dusty around the crown. Its
brim seemed a bit wider, but the hat had the same crease as his
dressier Stetson.
As he zipped up his black Carhartt, he
gave me a once-over.
“ Better than I imagined. You
look good enough to eat,” his face flushed with the realization of
the words that had inadvertently escaped his lips.
I fired back, “Is that a compliment or
an offer?”
“ Don’t tempt me, Sister,
don’t tempt me,” he replied with a big wide grin and a
wink.
We walked out the side door of the
mudroom and I could see stables about a hundred yards away. One of
his ranch hands was leading two beautiful horses out of the barn.
They were already saddled and ready to go.
When he had said, “go for a ride”, I
thought he was talking about taking a drive around the ranch. Awww,
hell no—we were going on horseback!
“ You’ve ridden before,
haven’t you?” he asked.
“ Ummm, yeah, sure. It’s been
a couple of years though.”
I lied. I had been more like fifteen
years ago.
I tried to remember the saying to
reassure myself—what was that saying?
“ It’s just like riding a
horse—you never forget.”
No, wait, that’s a bike. What was it?
Oh, yeah.
“ If you fall off a horse,
just get right back up on it!”
Oh, crap!
“ Dear God, don’t let me fall
off this horse!” I silently thought to myself.
Sensing my anxiety, he encouraged me,
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. He’s a gentle
rugged Texas terrain I loved so much.
This was the kind of luxury I had only
been exposed to in the pages of Texas Monthly or Southern Living
magazines. Everything was orderly and the room smelled as if it had
been recently cleaned. The lit fireplace suggested we were not
completely alone. As I looked out the paned glass windows, I could
see a row of smaller houses. It became apparent that he must have
arranged for someone to prepare the place for our
arrival.
I walked over to enjoy the warmth of
the fireplace. The only time I had ever seen a fireplace this big
was in movies about castles and on Lifestyles of the Rich and
Famous. I resisted the urge to pinch myself in order to remind
myself that I was actually here; standing in the middle of this
place—with him.
He walked up behind me and placed his
arms around my waist, hugging me from behind.
“ Since this position has
gotten us into trouble before, I’ll keep it brief,” he laughed.
“Let’s go for a ride.”
He gave me another playful swat on the
backside. Not that I minded, but it seemed he was developing quite
an appreciation for that part of my anatomy.
He took my hand and led me back to the
mud room. Waiting there for me was a beautifully colored Pendleton
Southwest blanket coat and a gorgeous brown felt Stetson hanging on
two of the hooks.
As he removed the jacket from the hook
and held it for me to put on, he said, “I had to guess on the
sizes. I hope they fit.”
I slid my arms into the jacket and
zipped it up. I reached back and pulled the band out of my hair. My
ponytail fell into long loose curls as I bent over to shake it out.
I threw my head back and slipped the cowboy hat in place—perfect
fit!
“ Really, you shouldn’t have.
You know you’re spoiling me. Thank you so much,” I was gushing
again.
This was the first time any man had
ever treated me so extravagantly. I tried not to go overboard with
my gratitude, but I did appreciate each and every one of his
gestures. He seemed to really get a kick out of my shocked looks
each time he surprised me with something. Little did he know how
much I had struggled and how very much these new experiences meant
to someone like me. Just within the short time I had known him, he
had already made up for every crappy Valentine’s Day I had ever
suffered through.
He stood there looking like something
that walked off a movie set. He was wearing different boots, better
suited for riding as opposed the expensive Luccheses. His hat was
different, too. It was weathered and dusty around the crown. Its
brim seemed a bit wider, but the hat had the same crease as his
dressier Stetson.
As he zipped up his black Carhartt, he
gave me a once-over.
“ Better than I imagined. You
look good enough to eat,” his face flushed with the realization of
the words that had inadvertently escaped his lips.
I fired back, “Is that a compliment or
an offer?”
“ Don’t tempt me, Sister,
don’t tempt me,” he replied with a big wide grin and a
wink.
We walked out the side door of the
mudroom and I could see stables about a hundred yards away. One of
his ranch hands was leading two beautiful horses out of the barn.
They were already saddled and ready to go.
When he had said, “go for a ride”, I
thought he was talking about taking a drive around the ranch. Awww,
hell no—we were going on horseback!
“ You’ve ridden before,
haven’t you?” he asked.
“ Ummm, yeah, sure. It’s been
a couple of years though.”
I lied. I had been more like fifteen
years ago.
I tried to remember the saying to
reassure myself—what was that saying?
“ It’s just like riding a
horse—you never forget.”
No, wait, that’s a bike. What was it?
Oh, yeah.
“ If you fall off a horse,
just get right back up on it!”
Oh, crap!
“ Dear God, don’t let me fall
off this horse!” I silently thought to myself.
Sensing my anxiety, he encouraged me,
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. He’s a gentle
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