“Maybe I will meet someone
today,” thought Fiona, a teenager working at the ice cream stand beside the
park. “I am so alone!”
A young cowboy caught Fiona’s
attention immediately, as he stepped out of his Mercedes. His leather cowboy
boots and white cowboy hat made him appear taller than he actually was. He
stumbled on the gravel, as he approached the ice cream stand and waited
patiently in line.
“Maybe he wears a holster with
guns?”
“We don’t see many real cowboys
around here,” she said, with a smile. “Can I help you?”
“Two scoops of maple walnut ice
cream, in a waffle cone,” replied the young man, in a gruff, cowboy
voice that sounded distinctly like John Wayne. “Please. Just a tourist,” he explained,
tipping his hat.
Moments later, she reached
across the stand and handed him an ice cream cone with two, huge scoops of ice
cream that nearly toppled to the ground. His hand brushed against hers gently.
“I’m just passing through.”
“You’d better eat your ice
cream before it melts,” she said, smiling at his awkwardness, as she watched
him fumble. It was hot. “Where are you from?”
“Out west,” he replied, with a
gentle smile. “Where I come from everyone is a cowboy, even the girls.”
“He is not an unattractive
dude,” thought Fiona, relieved to be able to take a break after a busy day. “As
far as cowboys go, I have met less attractive ones.”
“Ma’am, would you like to show
me your town when you get off work? I was thinking I should stay for the night
and head east in the morning.”
Fiona looked at him more
closely and felt strangely drawn to his
bright, blue eyes. “This man is a total stranger,”
she thought to herself. “Do I dare?”
News reports over the next few
days reported that Fiona, the short, stout, red-haired teenager who worked at
the ice cream stand by the park, had suddenly disappeared. No one ever saw her
again.
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