lights in the sun. Earrings were dangling from her ears.
She had on a monogrammed vest over her white top. She had dressed as if she was going to a dinner theater or even a business meeting in New York.
Her parents had Pictures of her aunt when she was young and she wondered if she still looked the same. She was hoping she hadn’t changed too much or she wouldn’t recognize her. She noticed several guys standing on the other side of the street looking at her. They didn’t seem like a threat so she wasn’t too worried but she was going to stay close to the station office just in case.
Turk rode into town on his horse setting high in his saddle.
He had an air of confidence about him anytime he rode. He felt like the King of his domain.
Some of the town’s people stopped and watched him pass as his horse’s hoofs made a clopping sound on the pavement. When he rode through town people stopped to watch him pass. He was the son after all to the owner of the largest ranch in the area.
Turk rode up to the train station and climbed out of the saddle, took his hand and pushed his Stetson back on his forehead.
His eyes had a twinkle to them and he had a crocked smile on his face as he tied his horse to a hitching post.
Macy watched him ride up as she thought to herself, “Now that’s what a real cowboy is supposed to look like.”
He spotted the young girl standing on the loading ramp of the train station by herself and knew right away that she had to be Macy Collins.
She was standing awkwardly in her heels holding her bags at her side while she looked around trying to avoid eye contact with Turk.
Turk knew right away she was from the city.
No country girl would dare wear a short tight skirt and high-heeled shoes in that part of the country with all this sun and sand.
She looked as if she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. The skirt helped to define her well-shaped hips.
Her makeup was done with perfect care and she had jewelry hanging from her neck and ears that gave a special sparkle about her that seemed to burn into Turks eyes.
He could see the Boston upbringing on her face. She had a beautiful stuck up young lady look.
Her Ivy League clothes gave her a confident young woman look.
The girls out west wore jeans, boots or skintight leather pants. They very seldom wore any makeup. Some of them should really use some to.
Macy finally couldn’t avoid it as he was walking right at her. She made eye contact as she stood there looking at him with a curious look on her face. She had never seen a real cowboy up close before.
He had on a western shirt with small boots embroidered across the front.
Fringe hung from the front of the shirt and the sleeves.
He wore tight fitting jeans that showed his manhood bulging in the front and cowboy boots with spurs on his feet.
On his side was strapped his 44 magnum revolver with purl handles.
She swallowed hard as she realized he was about to speak to her. He was so big and fearsome looking she wanted to run away screaming at the top of her lungs. He was towering over her as her head came about his shoulders with her heels on.
He ask ed, “Ma’am would you happen to be Miss. Macy Collins?”
He stared into her dark blue eyes with his cold steel blue ones. He could tell that his stare was making her uncomfortable . Hell she made him uncomfortable. He cast his stare over her shoulder as he waited on an answer.
She looked at the big gun on his side curiously and reluctantly replied, “Y…es I am.”
A broad smile filled his face. They said you would be easy to recognize.”
Macy’s cheeks turned red and she blushed all the way to her toes as she looked up in his eyes and replied, “Thank you.”
“Your aunt sent me here to meet you. She said I wouldn’t have any trouble finding you. Just look for the prettiest girl in town’s what she said. She was right.”
Macy wanted to crawl under the dock. No man that looked like him had ever flirted
She had on a monogrammed vest over her white top. She had dressed as if she was going to a dinner theater or even a business meeting in New York.
Her parents had Pictures of her aunt when she was young and she wondered if she still looked the same. She was hoping she hadn’t changed too much or she wouldn’t recognize her. She noticed several guys standing on the other side of the street looking at her. They didn’t seem like a threat so she wasn’t too worried but she was going to stay close to the station office just in case.
Turk rode into town on his horse setting high in his saddle.
He had an air of confidence about him anytime he rode. He felt like the King of his domain.
Some of the town’s people stopped and watched him pass as his horse’s hoofs made a clopping sound on the pavement. When he rode through town people stopped to watch him pass. He was the son after all to the owner of the largest ranch in the area.
Turk rode up to the train station and climbed out of the saddle, took his hand and pushed his Stetson back on his forehead.
His eyes had a twinkle to them and he had a crocked smile on his face as he tied his horse to a hitching post.
Macy watched him ride up as she thought to herself, “Now that’s what a real cowboy is supposed to look like.”
He spotted the young girl standing on the loading ramp of the train station by herself and knew right away that she had to be Macy Collins.
She was standing awkwardly in her heels holding her bags at her side while she looked around trying to avoid eye contact with Turk.
Turk knew right away she was from the city.
No country girl would dare wear a short tight skirt and high-heeled shoes in that part of the country with all this sun and sand.
She looked as if she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. The skirt helped to define her well-shaped hips.
Her makeup was done with perfect care and she had jewelry hanging from her neck and ears that gave a special sparkle about her that seemed to burn into Turks eyes.
He could see the Boston upbringing on her face. She had a beautiful stuck up young lady look.
Her Ivy League clothes gave her a confident young woman look.
The girls out west wore jeans, boots or skintight leather pants. They very seldom wore any makeup. Some of them should really use some to.
Macy finally couldn’t avoid it as he was walking right at her. She made eye contact as she stood there looking at him with a curious look on her face. She had never seen a real cowboy up close before.
He had on a western shirt with small boots embroidered across the front.
Fringe hung from the front of the shirt and the sleeves.
He wore tight fitting jeans that showed his manhood bulging in the front and cowboy boots with spurs on his feet.
On his side was strapped his 44 magnum revolver with purl handles.
She swallowed hard as she realized he was about to speak to her. He was so big and fearsome looking she wanted to run away screaming at the top of her lungs. He was towering over her as her head came about his shoulders with her heels on.
He ask ed, “Ma’am would you happen to be Miss. Macy Collins?”
He stared into her dark blue eyes with his cold steel blue ones. He could tell that his stare was making her uncomfortable . Hell she made him uncomfortable. He cast his stare over her shoulder as he waited on an answer.
She looked at the big gun on his side curiously and reluctantly replied, “Y…es I am.”
A broad smile filled his face. They said you would be easy to recognize.”
Macy’s cheeks turned red and she blushed all the way to her toes as she looked up in his eyes and replied, “Thank you.”
“Your aunt sent me here to meet you. She said I wouldn’t have any trouble finding you. Just look for the prettiest girl in town’s what she said. She was right.”
Macy wanted to crawl under the dock. No man that looked like him had ever flirted
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