My mind traced back over the weekend... I felt like I'd known this guy for a lifetime, even though I'd only spent a few hours with him. It seemed like the world had spun slower that afternoon, and that it was trying to catch up at an alarming rate.

I made my way back along the little dirt road between the barn and the house, smiling as my dogs barked at the traffic on the county road.My school bag was slung over the back of a kitchen chair, it hadn't moved since I'd hung it there Friday afternoon. That research paper that lay nestled in my bag wasn't going to finish itself, so I turned on the ancient computer in my room, then went back for my bag. I sat and went through all the stuff I'd already collected for the paper, still not content with what I had. Leaning back in my chair as I waited for the computer to finish it's start up, my mind began to wander, then was lost to the previous day completely. Research papers, computers--they were long gone and far away.

I was back in the cab of my truck, listening to the rain hammer away at the world....My cell phone had been buzzing, no doubt my mother calling for the 47th time. The message indicator light was blinking, I pushed the end button as I frowned at the screen. Along with the voice mails she'd left, I could see that the battery was dwindling. "Lemme see that thing," he'd said, as he reached and took the phone from my hands. He tapped away at it for a few seconds, then handed it back. He had that smile on his face again, the one that made me slightly dizzy when he looked at me. "My number's in there now, I just improved the value of that phone immensely!"He smiled again as he reached for my hand---I was convinced he could probably feel my pulse pounding through my finger tips. The rain had slacked to a slow drizzle, making it tolerable enough to be out in it at this point. We both stepped out of the truck, making our way around to stand next to my horses. I could feel it coming, knowing that this day had to end sometime. "Put your phone on the charger when you get home, I wanna be able to talk to you." He reached for my other hand and pulled me closer. I could feel the heat rush to my face, it was like the full force of his gaze was the sun itself. He was just a head taller than me, just enough that he had to bend down as he brushed a kiss against my cheek. I couldn't even breathe--I was too afraid it wasn't really happening... My very own knight on his big white horse! I put my arms around his neck as he held me, the damp smells of the earth mingled up to mix with the scent of sweaty horses and his cologne. He kissed my forehead as he took a step back, "I'm gonna call you tomorrow." That statement rendered me momentarily useless, until my dad's voice snapped me out of it. Dad met him on his way to the truck, smiled at him as he shook hands and clapped him on the back."That was a good loop son, that ol horse sure is working good.""Thank you sir!" He shot me one last smile over his shoulder.

I climbed in the truck, still reeling from the day. "Horses all loaded?" dad asked, getting settled in the drivers seat."Yep, they're loaded, watered them and hayed em too."
"You're a good hand, I think I'll keep you around!" he laughed as he pulled me over and hugged me around the shoulders. If he had anything to say about who I'd spent the last hour with, he sure kept it to himself. It was on the tip of my tongue all the way home, wondering if he really had asked my dad about taking me out on a date.

A rude beeping noise cut the silence of my room, and brought me back to the matter at hand. Procrastination. I was good at it. Most of the time. With a sigh, I flipped through my battered notebook to find the notes I had taken at school 2 days ago. A slew of facts about Marilyn Monroe stared back at me from the page, scrawled across the paper with my favorite bright orange pen. Several of my teachers found my choice of writing utensils comical...the one that hated it happened to be color blind, so it was hard for him to read. I tried to remember what I had saved in my giant paper weight that also served as a home computer, scrolling through the paragraphs I'd already typed. A few more paragraphs and I'd be well on my way to finishing it, not nearly as impossible as I'd imagined. No sooner than I started typing away on the references page, my phone began to buzz. Not bothering to look at the caller ID, I assumed it was my dad checking in to let me know where he'd made it to that morning. "Hey daddy, how's your trip so far?" He'd been on his way up north, a string of mid summer rodeos to judge had popped up sooner than he'd expected. Laughter on the other end of the line was my only reply, then I realized that it wasn't my dad's voice I heard on the other end of the line! My cheeks burned bright crimson when I realized who it might be, and I almost hung up. I could hear it in his voice, that smile he saved just for me had to be on his face.We talked for almost an hour, talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. He invited me to dinner again, and this time I didn't turn him down. When we tried to figure out a good night for us both, we realized it was going to be problematic. Living over 2 hours away from each other didn't make it any easier, and the fact that we were both keeping the road hot rodeoing didn't help either. We decided to try and just grab a bite at the next rodeo we were both entered at, which turned out to be the next weekend. I knew right then that the rest of my week would drag by as a result, only because I had something to look forward to other than the rodeo itself. We hung up, and I started working on my paper in earnest. I knew if I tanked this class that dad would be less than thrilled, which was hard on my rodeo career.

The paper ended up being easily finished that day, I worked on it on and off for the most part. That evening as I pulled the last page from the printer, my phone began to announce another call, and I hustled to try and answer it. Making sure to check the caller ID before I answered, a frown crossed my face. It wasn't who I was expecting.