Cowboy, Take Me Away

{5. Their Travels- part 2}

It's been an hour since we left the church, an hour of silence with the man I'm meant to spend the rest of my life with.

Beau sits next to me completely stoic, lost in his own world while I'm left wondering why he didn't kiss me properly, did I want him to?

My mind wanders back to our wedding ceremony.

"I promise to love you, unconditionally, for all the days of my life."

A sigh, escapes my lips at the remembrance of his words. How romantic it would be if he meant it. I can only pray that one day we'll mean that much to one another. With nothing but miles and miles of cornfields surrounding us, my eyes drift to my left side in an attempt to subtly look at him, some of his dark chestnut colored waves are matted to his forehead, his eyes remain focused on the dirt road ahead. His hands gently grip the reigns which seems unnecessary, as both Gypsy and Apache seem to know where they're going. My eyes then dart up to the small, barely visible scar.

"How did you get that scar?" I finally ask, my curiosity getting the best of me. "The one above your eyebrow." I add for clarification. "I noticed it when..." My voice trails off, not knowing how to explain that I noticed it while studying his face instead of paying attention to our wedding ceremony. "Well, in the church."

"I fell out of a tree when I was a boy, a rock just missed my eye."

"You poor thing!" I gasp, trying to remember if I ever saw him with the cut above his dark, bushy eyebrow. I can't. "How old were you? Why were you climbing up in a tree?"

His jaw, I notice, suddenly clenches. It's the only visible sign that he's frustrated with my question, even his tone remains calm and unchanging.

"Sixteen." He answers my first question curtly. "I think I was trying to get something, I hardly remember anymore."

Six years ago, I would have been twelve. I try to remember as much as I can from that year, and come up empty.

"I think you may have been a little distracted at that time." I immediately understand what what he's alluding to, and my cheeks flush. "Owen, I think," He mumbles quietly, referencing his older brother. "Had much of your attention around then."

Embarrassment floods me. There had been a year, right around that time, I was completely infatuated with Beau's older brother.

"Brianna, darling," My mother coos into my ear, but I can hardly hear her over my sobs. "You must calm down."

"She was so helpless, Momma." I cry out, picturing the old cat up in the tree outside. My tears continue when another strike of lightning lights up the pitch black sky, turning it a dark shade of purple. She's stuck in that tree out there, during the worst storm of the season.

"She'll be okay, my darling." My mother's hand soothingly rubs up and down my back, she stops when the bell connected to the door of the mercantile rings.

"Who in their right mind would be out in this storm." She mutters under her breath, standing and brushing her hand down her dress to smooth it. A howling meow echoes over the rain, and I sit up immediately.

"OW!" A voice shouts. "You darn thing, I'm tryin'cha help ya! Mr and Mrs. Rosen? Brianna?" Another angry meow has me running.

"Owen?" My eyes meet the brown ones of the dripping wet eighteen year old. He's got a meowing, growling, dripping creature in his arms. "Heard you were really worried about this girl." He holds the cat, wrapped in a shirt, out for me.

I can't do anything but gasp and take the frightened calico from his hands.

"Thank-you, Owen!" I wrap my free arm, the one not holding the shaking cat, around his  broad shoulders, his dark hair drips rain water onto my shoulders. "You're the best!" My heart does a funny flutter when I pull away and look up at him, his wet curls, curling around his eyes and matting to his forehead.