Fate is cruel to a man who runs.

Hol Horse had left you at the altar all those years ago, too scared to commit to loving you. He regretted it, trying to distract himself with the girls from his travels.

Now, he's drunkenly flirting with you at your bar, unaware of who you are. If he knew, would he'd go stiff and awkward? Or maybe he'd apologize, say the words you want to hear? He'd probably run, again.

"Say, darlin', whatcha doin' after work?" The cowboy's voice slurs from alcohol.