~*~Eight Second Angel~*~

"Miss? Miss, you dropped your hat."

Dawn Silvan, a barrel racer currently running the Pro Rodeo Circuit Finals (PRCA), turned around to face the speaker. He was about 6'1", with sandy blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes. A sprinkling of freckles dotted the sunburned cheeks and nose. He held her black cowboy hat in one large hand.

"Thank you," she said, taking it from him. He hesitated a moment, then said,

"My name's Brent McKloude." He tipped his hat and held out a hand, almost ashamed of the calluses there until she gripped it with a smaller, but equally rough one.

"I'm Dawn Silvan. Nice to meet you."

She was about 5'6", with reddish blonde hair and enchanting turquoise eyes. She was slender, the Wranglers that she wore accenting her small waist and curvy hips.

"Nice to meet you. You barrel race?"

"Yes. Do you rodeo?"

"Yeah, I ride the broncs."


He blushed a bit, causing her to look at him curiously through long dark lashes.

"It ain't nothin', miss. The bulls are the tough ones."

"Please, call me Dawn. And riding broncs is nothing to sneer at."

"Thanks. You goin' to that dance tonight?"

"Yes, I believe so. You?"

"Yeah, I think I'll go. Save me a dance, ok?"

"Sure, I'll see you there!"

They parted and went their separate ways, Dawn going to check on her horse, then to her hotel room to change, and Brent going just to his room.

Later that night, their paths crossed again. Dawn was standing alone by the door of the large building where the dance was being held, looking beautiful. Her hair was curled into almost a halo, and she wore white Wranglers and an emerald green shirt. Her earrings and necklace had dark green stones. Brent approached her, smiling.


She turned to him and smiled.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Nothing much. Care to dance?"