Experience the Happily Ever After

I saw something last night that I don’t see much of around here anymore, unless of course the 4-H fair is in session. And by here, I mean in the city, not that Topeka is a big city but it’s the biggest in these here parts.

I guess you’re wanting to know what it is I saw. No, it wasn’t a fox or a coyote, although they do tend to roam around in our little neighborhood. And it wasn’t a bobcat. I’ve heard tales that they exist in our neck of the woods, but I have yet to see one. AND no, it wasn’t a sasquatch (yes, I’ve heard those tales too)! Just to let you know, I sleep well at nights because we are surrounded by treeless fields, and I’m quite certain Bigfoot would not venture too close to a place he cannot hide from human eyes.

So what was it I saw, you ask? A cowboy. Not one of those I’m a hunter-wanna-be-cowboys, and not one of those I’m-a-hick-with-a-plot-of-land-and-a-four wheeler kind of cowboy, but a real honest to goodness cowboy.

Why is this of interest to me? A few months back I had an idea for a romantic suspense story. One that I want to set in Kansas, but I needed it to be unique. So I had decided that a cowboy would suit my hero nicely, but as I scoped out possible visual players for my hero all I kept coming up with was the typical Wranglers, t-shirt, baseball cap and boots. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but I wanted something more. Someone like a younger version of Mantracker.

But did someone like that exist in Northeast Kansas, or were the wide-rimmed-cowboy-hat, wrangler-wearing-cowboys found only in Hollywood and the ranches of Montanna? After several months of searching I found him, and it wasn’t at my local Tractor Supply. Nope, this cowboy was driving a newer diesel pick-up extended cab, pulling a trailer behind it. And he had on a white wide-rimmed cowboy hat. In the few seconds it took him to drive by, I noticed a few other things too. In the middle seat was a baseball cap wearing cowboy, and next to him was another cowboy with a black cowboy hat. There was no need for him to pull over for me to investigate what kind of jeans he was wearing; they were Wranglers, no doubt.

The funny thing is, as much as I thought he was an oddity, he looked at me and my walking partner as if we had stepped straight off of the mothership. *grins*

Whether or not I had actually found my cowboy, I still would have used one in my story (only mine would be wearing a nice pair of Levi’s), but at least now I know they do exist. They might be a rare sight outside of the local rodeo, but they’re a real thing.