2. How we met...

We first met when I was a sophomore in high school. I had started tenth grade at a small school, after being home-schooled. I became friends with a girl there named Leann, whom I had actually met before, at church camp. We started riding horses together (all the good things that have happened in my life seem to begin the same way... you'll see what I mean later.) This was January. It was cold. We became best friends in that cold, bonding over incidents like the time where Leann's cell phone fell out of her pocket while we were riding... we spent several frigid, tooth-chattering hours searching for it. I had so much fun with Leann. We spent almost every waking hour together for most of high school. And she had a boyfriend. His name is not important. What is important is that this boyfriend of hers had a best friend too.


Leann and the boyfriend thought that the best friend and I should meet. And so we did. At Braum's (for all of you non-Okies, Braum's is the best place in the world to get ice cream). It was more than a little awkward. I was incredibly shy, and he was incredibly cute. And tall. We sat and ate ice cream, stared at each other, and then said goodbye. The sparks flew. I'm just kidding- there were no sparks. Not even one tiny spark. I thought he was gorgeous, but I supposed that it just wasn't meant to be. We saw each other four more times over the next month. Once at Blockbuster (I was with Leann, he was with the boyfriend. Leann's boyfriend - just to clarify), once at Leann's house (we watched Tombstone), once at his house (I met his mother for the first time), and once at the boyfriend's house (once again, Leann's boyfriend). I still thought he was gorgeous, but it still wasn't meant to be. We went our separate ways for the next 5 years.
I still asked about him from time to time. Most of the time Leann would tell me that she had seen him when she and the boyfriend went on a double date with he and his girlfriend at the time (I call her the devil). For some reason though, even in the midst of other relationships, I still found myself thinking of him. I recall even thinking how my first name with his last name had a nice ring to it... no really, I did.
So I finished high school, went to Africa, came home, started college. That gets us through about the next four years of my life, and we find ourselves back in January.
The boyfriend (Leann's boyfriend) wasn't Leann's boyfriend anymore. She had moved on, and he had set his sights on my father's ponds (he was a duck hunter, and my dad has great ponds!). We talked on the phone a few times between January and February, and in February he asked me to do him a favor. He said there was this girl at church who liked him, and he wanted to make her think he had a girlfriend so she would stop liking him. Looking back, I realize what a fool I was for falling for this ridiculous story. But I did.
So I went to church with him one Sunday morning in February. I went to the bathroom towards the end of the service, and as I walked back to the sanctuary, through the door walked a tall, filthy, handsome man in wranglers and a bright red work shirt (did I mention how filthy he was?) He looked vaguely familiar, but I narrowed it down quickly, mentally sorting through the people I knew who were that tall. I didn't know anyone else. He recognized me and we exchanged hello's. We stood there for a little while and caught up. I couldn't believe how much better looking he was than the last time I saw him (and he was gorgeous then, remember?) We got on the subject of horses. I invited him out to ride one of my dad's horses that was for sale. I didn't think he'd really come. Boy, was I wrong. I think he came out the next day.
Remember that thing I said about all the good things in my life starting with horseback riding? Well you're about to see what I mean. He showed up at my house looking like he stepped out of a western movie. The boots, the jeans, the belt, the shirt, the hat. Mmm mm. He was beautiful. Thick black hair, sparkling green eyes, ruddy cheeks. Muscles. This guy was lovely to look at. He showed me pictures of where he'd worked the last fall - it was an outfit in Colorado. This was the first time I'd heard the word "outfit" and it didn't mean what I was wearing. It meant a business that takes people hunting for certain big game animals. He showed me pictures of elk, and deer, and mountains, and guns, and the life that he so obviously loved, and was most certainly well-suited for. He was a real live cowboy. I was infatuated.
He rode the horse (the one that was for sale). He then asked if he could come back and ride it again. I said yes. He asked if I would ride with him the next time he came out. I said yes. I think he came out the next day.
And we rode away, into the sunset. Well, not yet, but we're getting there!