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Arriving in the USA after everything you’d learned about it, you had big dreams of spending your humble days enjoying sun-kissed deserts and rolling fields of flowers and wild grasses. As you urged your horse forward, pushing desperately through the knee deep mountain snow in pursuit of a bounty, you cursed yourself for having ever left your homeland.
The snow was coming down harder all around you, blanking out your vision and biting at the exposed flesh of your face. Slowly as you lost sight of landmarks, pushing on aimlessly deeper and deeper into the mountains, you came to the stomach turning realization that you’d probably travelled too far. Disoriented, cold and alone, you knew your only chance now was to find shelter.
The landscape all looked the same, the mountains seemed to envelope you on all sides, each tree identical as they shot up from the icy earth. You were beginning to lose hope, resigning yourself to propping up a tent among the snow and shivering yourself into the grave when you crested a small rise and discovered your salvation.
At the far end of a frozen pond, you saw the shape of a cabin through the storm. From its windows, tiny points of warm light reached your eyes and through its chimney rose a steady plume of smoke. It was warm and inhabited, but apprehension spread through your abdomen as you considered it. There was no telling if you would find kind souls willing to help, or someone vile who would wish to do you harm, but with dwindling options, you knew you had to try.
You guided your horse carefully to the edge of the ice where the harsh winds had blown the snow into shallow, manageable banks and dismounted to lead it safely across. As the cabin came more clearly into view, you could see a makeshift barn and some scattered tents, seemingly empty. Unsure what to expect, you brought your horse to stand safely in the small accommodating stall and climbed through the deep snow that led to the cabin’s door.
Your conviction faltered as you raised a gloved hand to knock. Taking a deep breath, knowing it was this or an icy death, you pounded on the door.
After only a moment the entryway opened suddenly and on the other side of the threshold stood a powerful looking man. He held his revolver pointed at you, it’s cold steel glinting in the lamp light.
“Who are you?” His gruff voice rasped, eyes staring at you intensely. You were shocked not only by his weapon in your face, but by his height and broad frame, made only more imposing by the thick fur coat he wore.
You opened your mouth to speak, but being too cold and too shocked, no words came out. Instead you stared helplessly up at him.
He looked you over for a moment’s pause. A lone woman, coated in snow and looking worse for wear. His next words were gruff but there was an air of lightness to them, “are you going to just stand there, looking pretty?” He raised his eyebrows at you. His accent was strong and in a moment you realized he was probably as far from home as you were. “What’s your name?”
Finally you spoke, forcing the syllables out past your numb lips. His expression softened at the sound of your voice and he lowered his weapon. “Ah get in here before you freeze solid.” He stepped out of your way and lifted an inviting arm to motion you in. You obeyed quickly, relieved at the warmth in the air, emanating from his modest stove.
“So what brings a woman as guapa as you so far north, huh?” He asked with a wink as he took a seat on his worn out cot.
Despite the chill on your cheeks, you felt your nerves prickle to life as your face flushed at his words. You weren’t entirely sure what he meant, but you had a good guess. His handsome face and confident words already made it harder for you to think clearly, but his compliments rendered you nearly speechless once more.
“Don’t be afraid of me hermosa,” he said as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Come closer, stand by the stove and get warm, huh?” He instructed.
You walked deeper into his dwelling, feeling the heat of the stove nip at your frozen skin and finally found the words to speak. “I was hunting a bounty.” You admitted, casually tending to your thawing nose as it began to run.
His eyes narrowed as he looked you over, “your bounty is not Flaco Hernández is it?”
“Non,” you replied quickly, “the man I’m looking for is an Irishman, he escaped his debts by fleeing north.”
“Good!” He laughed, “because I am Flaco Hernández! And now, mi hermosa mujer, you and I have no trouble.”
You smiled at him, he was so charming. You considered asking him why he was that far north too, but as if reading your mind, he explained.
“I came here to find peace. It seems all day and night some cabrone is trying to find me. They’re either fresh outta jail, hoping Falco gives them work, or they’re trying to take me in!” He laughed. “It’s such a rare treat to be visited by a lovely woman instead.” He looked you over before adding flirtatiously, “I don’t doubt you’d give me a run for my money if you did come here for me though.”
You blushed, your cheeks finally feeling warm once more. “Oh I haven’t been doing this for very long.” You said bashfully. “I arrived here, I thought I’d find work doing something I had schooling for, but here I am. C'est la vie,” you sighed.
Flaco chuckled and playfully said, “Coming out in this weather, it’s clear you’re new at this. Ay, no bounty is worth your precious vida.”
You nodded your head in agreement then laughed softly to yourself. Considering you both knew English as a second language, you were pleased you could still understand each other well enough when using your native tongues.
You admired Flaco for a brief moment. He was fascinating, something about him, perhaps his charismatic charm, had you feeling so at home in the icy little shack. Just then, despite your proximity to the stove, a shiver ran through you as the storm buffeted the walls with its vengeful gale.
“Here, come.” Flaco motioned suddenly, patting the spot next to him on the bed. “If you’re going to be stuck here tonight, we might as well keep warm together.”
There were no suggestive tones in his voice, Flaco seemed to sincerely want to help, but it didn’t help your nerves as you agreed and approached the good looking man. As shy as you were, sitting there next to him so closely, when he put a respectful arm around you, you felt relief. He smelled so nice and his touch was strong but tender. He felt safe.
As the night carried on, with Flaco periodically stoking the flames and cuddling you warmly, you shared stories of your lives back home. Despite him being from such a different part of the world from you, knowing you both ended up in the same tiny cabin that night had you feeling closer to him than you thought possible with such a stranger. Sighing as the deep rasp of his voice rumbled through you, for the first time in a long time, you felt like the luckiest woman on earth.