Page 91 of Sweet Madness

I fit right in with everyone else here.

“This is everything,” I whisper to myself. “This is incredible…” I lean forward on the wooden rail and take a photo of myself surrounded by a sea of spectators, their cheers blending in with the enthusiasm as cowboys and cowgirls prepare for their rides. The arena stretches out before me, ringed by weathered wooden fences adorned with banners and flags fluttering in the breeze.

This is all new to me and it proves to be more than I had imagined. As a child, we didn’t get to go camping or get dirty in the mud like most kids do during hot summers. That wasn’t the type of activity my family enjoyed, and I don’t really feel like I missed out. But being here, witnessing this type of American tradition and culture, fills my heart with joy and wonder. It makes me feel somehow closer to him.

My gaze darts from the bronco-busting chute, where riders mount restless horses, to the roping arena, where cowboys skillfully lasso calves against the ticking clock. Each event captures my attention fully and leaves me in awe of such talent.

The sun hangs low in the big Montana sky, casting a golden hue over the scene and causing the dust kicked up by the horses’ hooves to dance in the air like pretty gold glitter. The scent of popcorn and cotton candy mingles with the earthy aroma of horses, creating a unique atmosphere that is both thrilling and comforting.

Tucking my camera back into my purse, I watch as a gray bronco bursts from its gate, its female rider gripping the reins with determination as the horse bucks and twists beneath her. The crowd roars with every move, their cheers adding to the adrenaline that pulses through the arena. I find myself clapping along, caught up in the infectious energy of the rodeo. It is empowering to watch a woman handle a horse so effortlessly.

Close by, a group of children stands with wide eyes, their faces painted with various designs as they cheer on their favorite riders. I can’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. They look so content to be here. One little boy, with tousled blonde hair and expressive eyes, catches my attention as he flashes a toothy grin in my direction, melting me on the spot. My heart can’t take the cuteness. His resemblance to Shaw pulls at my heartstrings.

I continue watching the riders as the evening progresses and the sky slowly darkens. The arena lights flicker on, casting a glow over the scene. “This is what I’m missing,” I think to myself, taking in the vast Montana landscape stretching beyond the arena.

“Found you,” Shaw says in a husky tone as he appears behind me, his presence commanding attention in ripped jeans that hug his legs, a crisp white tee emphasizing his broad shoulders, and sturdy brown cowboy boots that echo with each step. Perched atop his head is his cowboy hat, casting a shadow over his rugged features.

My breath catches in my throat as I look at him, struck by the sight of a man who seems to embody a wild, untamed spirit yet holds a gentle warmth in his eyes whenever he looks at me. His rough hand comes to my waist, holding me in place. Time seems to suspend as I find myself speechless, captivated by his undeniable charm and the magnetic pull between us.

God, he’s so beautiful in a way that’s difficult to put into words.

Wanting to save the memory of him, I reach for my camera, intending to capture just how handsome he looks. I fumble slightly before pointing my polaroid camera at him. With a quick press of the button, the camera whirs and ejects the photo. I hold it in my hands, the image developing before my eyes, capturing Shaw’s essence standing there in all his rugged charm and cowboy glory. It’s a moment frozen in time, a memory I want to hold onto forever. “What took you so long?” I tease with a grin.

“Did you miss me, darlin’?” Shaw’s lip quirks upward.

“I always miss you,” I blurt out, unable to contain my emotions.

He offers me a small smile. That perfect smile of his sends butterflies into a frenzy in my stomach. Will that feeling ever fade? I don’t think so.

I gaze at him with adoration shimmering in my eyes, my heart fluttering at the sight of him. In a soft whisper, I breathe out, “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

I quickly blush, feeling like a lovestruck fool.

Shaw’s expression softens, but a shadow crosses his face as he gently replies, “Beautiful isn’t a word many would use for me.” His words carry a touch of sadness, revealing a vulnerability beneath his rugged exterior. My heart tugs painfully as I look at him. He’s so used to being seen as tough and strong that perhaps beauty seems foreign to him.

“But you are… so beautiful, Shaw,” I insist, tracing the constellation of freckles on his face.

“And you’re too damn sweet, princess,” he chuckles before lifting me off the wooden rail and setting me on my feet. He then gently takes my small hand in his, his touch firm yet tender, as he guides me towards the bustling area where the bareback riding contest is about to begin. His hand feels warm and reassuring against mine. I look at our joined hands and smile wide, loving the way he looks so big compared to mine.

“Did you really used to do bareback riding?” I ask, my voice tinged with worry as we walk together. I glance up at him, noticing the strength in his features and the determination in his stride. After our time at the lake, where he made me his in every way that counts, something shifts between us. Something monumental, and he proves it this morning when I wake up to him knocking on my door with a tulip in hand, asking me to join him for a day at the town’s annual rodeo. With a full heart, I accept and spend the rest of the day counting down the hours to see him again.

Although we made love at the lake, he hasn’t said more about the status of our situation now, but I don’t need words. These are the moments that whisper all the secrets of his heart to me. This is what counts—him holding my hand as he shares something he clearly enjoys.

“I did.”

“Oh…”

“What is it?”

“It just seems a bit dangerous.”

“You worry about me?”

“I always worry about you,” I frown, looking up at him in concern.

“It’s fine, baby.”

Baby… my insides turn to goo.

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