Can Dreams Come True?

She made it. Not usually a bundle of confidence, she had to admit to herself, she really did it!  Sinking down into the soft leather couch, she took off her boots and started to relax. She never cared for leather furniture, it always seemed sticky in summer and cold in the winter. The scent brought memories of riding.  The family had a cutting horse, but he settled down whenever she was in the saddle. She often dreams of riding him, usually in some desperate situation where she ended up saving the day. But they were only dreams, but no longer. 

That is why today was such an accomplishment. Part of her still had doubts. Would this really happen? She shook that question out of her head and went to explore the cabin. It was small, decorated Western style, pottery, Apache rugs, and the hues of a desert sunset. It was furnished in a warm, comfortable manner, very pleasing to her eye. Only one larger room plus an efficient bath, she decided to see what the kitchen area had to offer. Ah, cupboards and fridge fully stocked for a week’s stay. Everything just as she ordered.

She wanted all to be perfect when, …if….when he arrived. Even the fireplace was set up. All she had to do was strike a match, see the flames, and the dream continued. There were candles and dried flower bouquets with a sandalwood scent, and big fluffy quilts on the bed. She had to try it out and fell deep into them, sniffing the freshly washed cotton. It was perfect, all the planning, was worth it. She felt like a giddy teenager, anticipating her first date. He will be arriving any minute, she needed to check the mirror. Yes, the skirt and sweater in his favorite blue. She wanted to be soft and inviting when he came in.

There would be no questions when he saw her, for they had hinted of this meeting almost from the beginning. What they both wanted, what they expected, was actually going to happen. All of the letters,  the distance, the frustration of being apart would finally be done, over, for good. Anticipation was palpable, as the clock’s ticking seemed to get louder. Yes, he’ll come, he will.

The sun was going down, she stoked the fire, lit every candle, and curled up in the leather couch again. Another hour passed. Maybe everything was too perfect. Was she dreaming? The couch was real, she put her hand on it, just to make sure. Could he have lost his way? It had started to chill and light snow was falling. A tear started to form in the corner of her eye.  A light through the window, the hum of a car engine, and a knock on the door. He opened it slowly and saw the blue of her eyes at last.

https://rugby843.wordpress.com