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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1153857
A story of a young woman who falls for a cowboy who takes her for the greatest ride: love.
Unlike what she had read in stories, Laura didn't know from the first time she saw him that she would end up with him. So much had happened to them since they had met, she felt it should have been obvious. Their story had really started in a local café in the dead of summer.

***

When the little bell above the door tinkled as another person came in, I barely noticed. The intense heat was driving everyone mad and Tina’s, the small café we sat in, was one of the only places in our small town that had air conditioning. I sat in the corner booth with my best friend, Jake. We just sat and talked while we slurped down our strawberry milkshakes, as was ritual for a hot summer day that Jake had a double break at the drug store. When I looked up at Jake as he was telling some story about the latest thing Mrs. Phelps had done, I noticed someone unfamiliar. It was the hat that caught my eye. He stood just over six feet tall; he had that classic handsome cowboy look about him, dark brown hair, high cheek bones, hat tipped down right over his brows. He came off as fake to me; I focussed back on Jake’s story. The cowboy took a seat on one of the open stools at the counter; I could see him just over Jake’s right shoulder. Over the next few minutes, as Jake moved on to more stories, I couldn’t help but notice the cowboy. The way he wore his plaid shirt and jeans gave a whole new feel to the classic small town look.

Sooner than I thought, it was time for Jake to get back to work so I walked out with him. Sure enough, tied up right outside the café, was a horse. Sleek and glowing, the big brown beast willed me to stay. I had begged my parents for a horse all throughout my life, far beyond the regular pony stage little girls go through. I said a quick goodbye to Jake to stay with the horse. Reaching my hand up, I let it smell my hand and proceeded to stroke its neck. The smooth fur and firm muscles felt so nice beneath my fingers. The door opened and the cowboy walked up behind me. “Her name’s Jenny,” he said, watching me, “Wanna ride ‘er?”

I wanted to, but what was I thinking, I didn’t even know who he was. As if reading my mind, or maybe just interpreting my hesitation, he offered, “How ‘bout a lil’ stroll first? I’ll tell ya ‘bout ‘er.”

I accepted the invitation and we began walking down the street. True to his word, he started the conversation talking about Jenny. As time rolled along, the conversation turned from the horse to me to him, his name was Mark. After we had circled nearly the entire town, which hadn’t actually taken that long, he offered again to let me ride Jenny. I agreed this time, still not totally sure what I was doing. We wandered back to where we had left the horse and he helped me up. As he leaned over slightly to untie the ropes, I couldn’t help but notice that his jeans were extra tight in just the right spots. I wasn’t consciously looking at his butt, but it was just one of those things a girl just has to appreciate while she admires the scenery. Passing me the ropes, he climbed up behind me; respectfully, he honoured my personal space as much as you can riding two to a horse.

We trotted off down the road, Jenny’s hooves clicking melodically. As we rode, we continued talking. We left the town and headed out into a pasture not to far out. He hopped down and offered me a hand which I gladly accepted. Allowing Jenny to take a break and graze a little, Mark sat down on the grass against a large oak tree. I joined him and for a few minutes we just sat in silence. The sky had started to turn a light pink as the sun started its nightly descent. Mark took off his hat and his dark hair fell against his forehead. With his head against the tree and his legs stretched out in front of him, one slightly bent, the cowboy finally looked natural. He was not much older than me, early to mid twenties, but he had such an age about him, perhaps it was his intense independence.

Letting out a deep sigh, Mark looked over at me and smiled. There was nothing much to it, just a smile, but it made my stomach turn. All the feelings I had read about suddenly hit me. I was positive I was suffering from every symptom of love. I felt so giddy, but ridiculous. What was I thinking? I had just met him. I barely knew anything about him, but I guess I knew enough. No thought made sense. I was trying to convince myself that it was the freedom I was in love with, the rush I felt on Jenny, but no reason would come to me. For so long I had been so close to such wide open spaces, but never really been free. He had let me reveal a whole new side to myself, a side that I loved and I loved him for showing me it.

The sky was now a deep magenta, laced with violet, making our pasture scene perfectly romantic. I felt like I was in a book. Everything seemed to just be falling into place. It was ridiculous and wonderful. With just a nod in the direction of the horse, we mounted again and he rode me back to the café. Before he rode away, he gave a quick, “Hey, thanks,” and a tip of his hat.

Then he started to ride off. The only part of him I hated to see was his back, knowing that it was because he was leaving. Not too far down the next block, he veered Jenny around and came galloping back to me. He hopped back down, removed his hat, and kissed me. It was breathtaking. For that moment, I had no thoughts in my head, yet it felt so jammed full of things. My heart rate doubled and I looked up into his eyes. “Tomorrow,” was all he said before he got back on his horse and started off again.

I was so confused. I didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry. Whether I should jump and dance or faint. When tomorrow? Where tomorrow? I would find out the next day, other than that, I knew nothing about anything.

It all happened so fast. He did return the next day. And the next day. And the next day. We spent every moment of the rest of the summer together. Everyday was full of kisses, laughing, talking, love, riding, and freedom. I gave him everything I could have. I gave him more than I could have, or perhaps, should have. He had my whole heart. My whole mind. My whole body. He gave me wild flowers and so much love; he couldn’t get enough of telling me that I was beautiful. For those weeks, I was flying, closer and closer to heaven. I told Jake about every moment of it. I loved having him there so that it wasn’t all so new. He would barely say anything, though it could have just been that I was talking too much. I had found my real prince who had ridden in and rescued the princess inside of me, set me free. It was the best thing I could think of. But it still wasn’t perfect.

Too many fights later, he took a cowboy’s toughest ride, turning his back to the one who loved him. But, pride kept him standing when he should have been on his knees. He may have ridden up, but he was in no shining armour, he was a true cowboy. He took what he could get and when it was gone, he left. I had been so blinded by him. There was no romance. Nothing I had dreamed of had actually come true. Everything I said I would stand for crumbled. I had once heard the saying, “We ride and never worry about the fall, I guess that’s just the cowboy in us all.” I fell hard that summer, the thing I ended up breaking was my heart. There were too many tears shed over the cowboy who passed through town. Piece by piece, my heart mended. Over the next year, I learned to laugh again. I moved on from my foolishness. Finally, I opened my eyes, but what I saw was unexpected.

It was a whole year since that fateful day that a cowboy had wandered into a café for a drink. Jake and I sat in our corner booth. He had never left my side. He was humming along with the music playing in the background. I just watched him. Memories of Jake started flashing in my mind. I saw laughs, tears, fights, hugs, walks, talks, all just me and Jake. It seemed so cliché. I hated myself for starting to think of Jake as something more. I couldn’t stand to even have the power to break his heart like mine had broken just the year before. All I could end up muttering was a pitifully quiet, “I’m so sorry.”

Jake looked so confused, he was so startled from the comment. “For…?” he encouraged.

I couldn’t find the words. I don’t know why I had said that. I guess it was because I had chosen a complete stranger when he had been there all along. We left the conversation there.

The sky was turning red so we started off to our homes. As we passed by the playground, Jake turned to go into it. I followed right behind him. Unexpectedly, he spun around so we were face to face. “Why did you ever go with him?” Jake interrogated.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know why. I wouldn’t admit that I didn’t know why. After a suspended silence, Jake continued, “Yours wasn’t the only heart that broke last summer. I…I…” he stuttered and stopped.

Reaching into his back pant pocket, he took out an envelope folded in half. “I’ve carried this everywhere since the year after our graduation, but every word is still true. I don’t expect you to feel the same, but I can’t play this game anymore. I just wanted you to know why we can’t be friends anymore.”

Jake handed me the envelope. All I could do was stand there and look from the envelope in my hand to Jake and back to the envelope. And then I kissed him. I don’t know where it came from or what made me do it, but I did. We both just kind of stood there for a while. Finally, he said, “Read it,” and started walking towards the swings.

I carefully opened the envelope and read it silently. Tears started to flow down my face and I had to wipe them away quickly because I didn’t want them to smudge the ink. A love poem, he had written me a love poem. It was the most precious thing I had. I felt so ashamed for the things I had done. I felt so foolish and naïve. I felt exposed. Jake had gotten off the swing and had come back to where I was still standing. He wrapped his arms around me and I just cried, comforted and protected by him. Instead of flying, ready to freefall at any moment, I was floating on a cloud. I was safe, I was protected, I was content, I was truly in love and he loved me back, truly.

***

Perhaps their story didn’t really start until the park or perhaps it started long before the café, but they loved, regardless of where the story began. So much had happened to them since they had met she felt it should have been obvious. Nonetheless, they were happy and they were in love. The fights were made up, the love was everlasting. No matter how upset they could make the other one, they were both still happy, no, they were both still content.

The end
© Copyright 2006 Amy Davidson (amydavidson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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