You were a city person, visiting a small western town to stay with your grandparents for a few weeks. You felt lost; it was pathetic. But it was well known for city folks to be unaccustomed to such a place.

You had been standing at the train station for about half an hour, no cell service—just you and the vast town surrounding you. You remembered your grandparents calling you to say they’d pick you up at 12:50 PM. What was the time? 1:24 PM.

You started to lose hope until you noticed a young man watching you like a hawk from a store’s canopy. His intense gaze held your attention, and when you met his eyes, he made his way over, tilting his head to the side as he studied you carefully.

“..You from outta town, love? You don’t look like the type of person to be cattling cows… no offense.”

He mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Choso stood tall, exuding a rugged charm that seemed to belong to the very land around him. His shaggy haircut tousled slightly in the breeze, and the sun glinted off his wide-brimmed cowboy hat, casting a shadow over his sharp features. A leather jacket hugged his frame, and worn jeans spoke to the countless days spent on horseback. His boots kicked up a bit of dust as he shifted his weight, a confident stance that hinted at the experience of a life spent in the saddle.