It all began from the maintenance shed. She'd stand at the window or her room upstairs, gazing lazily at the ranch out of boredom.
Her father always said the wild was no place for girls, so while her brothers woke up every morning and rode for miles on horseback, she was given a couple of minutes daily to feed the ducks.
And oh….she hated the ducks. She thought they were boring.
In fact, she thought her life in general was boring.
Not until she saw him.
Usually, ranch boys were always everywhere showing their muscles rippling while they tilled the soil, or broke the horses.
It was cute to watch, but she thought it was just show off.
However, she saw the true definition of cute in him.
She'd caught sight of a strange figure walking into the maintenance shed that evening.
There was no one home so If she didn't check out whoever it was, her father's ranch could get robbed.
She grabbed the old rifle in the living room and hurried outside. Walking stealthily, she aimed the nozzle of the rifle at him and cleared her throat.
“Don't move.”
He turned around, hands raised in the air. There was alarm in his face, not until his cloudy eyes met with her emerald ones.
His bushy brow corked in surprise, then he put his hands down and grabbed the rifle by the nozzle, wrestling it away from her hands.
“This thing isn't loaded.” It wasn't a question. He knew.
“It is. My grandfather used to hunt deers with it.” She pouted.
He looked at her from head to toe, eyes roving from her red, wavy hair left to cascade down her back, to her plump, freckled cheeks.
“How old are you girl? You shouldn't be out here all alone.”
She crossed an arm over her torso. “I'm nineteen,”
“Good lord. And you sound nine.” His gaze dropped to her feet. “You don't even have your shoes on!”
Her face reddened with embarrassment. She'd been in so much of a hurry to catch the “thief” that she didn't put her shoes on.
“Hand the rifle over. I need to get back inside,” she snapped. He turned it around and handed it to her hilt first.
“Do you work for my father?” She asked when he turned around to gather the tools he'd come to get.
“You can say that. My late brother owed your father. I'm here to repay his debt.”
She watched him walk past her, his pearl skin glowing in the light of the sunset.
She expected him to fawn over her like the rest of her father's workers did to herself and her brothers but he didn't care.
He looked like he was in a hurry to leave.
“How much does your brother owe my father?” She called out. He stopped wheeling the barrow and turned back to her.
“A lot.” Then he continued moving. She picked the train of her skirt and ran after him.
“How much is a lot?”
“Listen girl, why don't you go in and put on some shoes? You could catch a cold and get your mama worried if you stay out here any longer.”
She ran her lashes at him disdainfully. “You'd get nothing from being so arrogant. You're the one who's in debt, not me.”
Then she stomped away, fuming angrily when she heard the sound of his laughter.
For the next couple of days, she avoided the window like a plague. She was dying to look into his grey eyes again, to see his brown curls tangling wildly on his head, to watch his slender body gleam with sweat…but she denied herself.
Then that fateful morning, her mother knocked on her room door.
“Bridget, you have a visitor.”
It was her birthday but she'd never had visitors on her birthday. She smoothened her lilac skirts and walked nervously down the stairs.
Her jaw dropped when she saw him. He was dressed in a crisp, white shirt, with the biggest bouquet of white roses in his hands.
“Aren't you….” He held a finger to his lips to silence her.
“Happy birthday lady Bridget.” He said handing the bouquet over. Her mother smiled and kissed him on the cheeks and her father rose to shake his hand.
This man couldn't be someone who owed her father. He was even asked to sit at the dining table!
“I demand to know what's going on right now!” She yelled. Everyone stopped their activities and looked up at her. “Who are you?” She asked, looking into his eyes.
“I suppose we've not been properly acquainted, My lady. My name is Ryan McMahon. And yes, my brother is the Matthew McMahon.”
McMahon. The richest ranchers in all Oklahoma.
“It's a pleasure to um…make your acquaintance.” Her face was flushed bright red and sweat was already trickling down her neck.
After breakfast, he asked her to join him in the garden.
“Why did you come that day? I'm sure you don't owe my father,” she asked, her head dropped shyly. He stopped abruptly and lifted her chin with one sturdy finger.
“I came to meet you, Bridget. So I could make you my wife. I didn't want some spoiled girl who'd whine in my ears all day. When you pointed that rifle at me, I knew you were the one.”
She flashed her sweetest smile at him. “So you're not upset that I may be wild, or stubborn?”
He shook his head. “That's exactly what I'm looking for.”
It was just like she'd always hoped for. A man who'd love her for who she truly was. And she was happily looking forward to the next chapter of her life.
Ps: image is not mine