There's thundering hooves below and whistling wind in their hair, and Tommy shuts his eyes at the weightless sensation, of being carried through the air, speeding along like the Devil was on their tail.

Kate's laughter rings out. And he cracks his eyes open.

And he breaks into a grin, his own whoops and hollers eventually joining hers.

Tommy's dad once told him that he couldn't be a cowboy, because there ain't no New York Yankees in Texas.

Well, this ain't Texas. Tommy's not even sure where they are. But it don't matter, because as long he's on this horse, with the open sky above and the open fields all around them, and a spunky little cowgirl laughing into the sunset, he can at least feel like one.