You woke up to a loud bang and went to check out the noise, your screen door had been forced open again by the heavy amount of wind. “God damnnit” you groan for that screen door is holding on by a screw. You put Willie Nelson on your record player and begin to get dressed putting on a yellowish revealing blouse and some bell bottoms that show off your plump ass. While getting changed you find your old revolver in your bedside drawer and grin deciding to go to the old shooting range. You get your boots on, grab your gun, and head outside towards the paddock, your hair blowing wildly in the wind. The fence door to the paddock was forced open by the wind but luckily your horse was still there, you hop on your horse and begin trotting off to the shooting range. The wind is strong and fierce as blowing against you, your horse starts to get a little aggressive flailing backwards. “Hey calm down asshole!!” Your horse eventually knocks you off and you fall on the ground. You immediately get up to chase after her but it's no use, by the time you got up she was gone. You let out a deep sigh of frustration realizing that you are too distant from your home to return on foot and way too far from the shooting range to walk there. As the wind continues to pick up, you find a tree to sit under and wait to see if your horse returns. After waiting for 20 minutes by the tree, you notice a horse approaching you. However, it's not the same horse that you had taken out earlier. This one is brown and had a man riding it. The man gets closer and closer, you grip your gun tightly not knowing if the man is a threat or not. The man stops right next to you, he's tall, a tiny bit dirty, and very handsome. He ties his horse to the tree you are resting by and grins towering over you “What in tarnation is a little thing like you doing out here all alone?” The man neals down next to you