The Day Joe Willows Met Loretta Moore

Ruth is working on a family history project. These are her notes from family interviews. 

This is part two of my interview with my grand-daddy, Joe Willows.

Ruth: Ok Grand-daddy, please tell me the story of how you met Grandmother.
Joe: I met Loretta at the county fair when I was twenty-two. She came to watch us cowboys warm up our horses for the timed events. I was set to do some tie-down that night. I saw her sitting in the stands, she was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. I rode over to her and told her if won the day money, I’d take her out. (He laughs) She told me she wasn’t gonna hold her breath, but that she liked my horse. I had a bad run and didn’t even come close to winning. I was sure I’d never see that beautiful woman again. 
After the event, I was seeing to Scotch, my palomino, when I looked up, and there she was standing at the end of the barn aisle. “Um, hello.”
“Hello yourself.” she strode down to me.
“I didn’t win…”
“Oh I saw that that much,” she interrupted.
“I didn’t think you’d wanna go out…” 

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“I didn’t want your poor horse to suffer the fate as me, so I brought him an apple.” She smiled and held out an apple.
“Afraid I’d let him go hungry?”
She shrugged.
“Naw, I take care of Scotch. He’s a good horse.” I patted him through the bars of his stall.
“Can I give it to him?’ she asked.
“Sure, go ahead,” I answered but she just stood there.
Finally she admitted, “I don’t know how.” Bashfully she admitted “I don’t have much experience with horses.”
“Here, I’ll show you.” I took hold of her hand, she was soft and warm, and the apple and I showed her how to let Scotch bite it without swallowing it whole and choking.
I stood there looking into her beautiful brown eyes. I finally worked up the courage to say, “I know I didn’t win today, but I’d still like to take you out if you’d let me.”
She smiled and said, “I’d love to, but my ride home is waiting for me.”
I figured she was just being polite, but she added, “I’m here for the week visiting my Aunt and Uncle. Could we go out another time before I go home?”
“Sure,” I tried to hide my excitement. “Where’s home?”
“Artesia, but Aunt Rose and Uncle Miller live in Pueblo,” she handed me a slip of paper with their number already written down on it. “Call me here. The sooner the better.” She added before she turned to go.
“Wait,” I grabbed her hand, “I don’t even know your name.”
She smiled and said, “ Loretta Moore. But you can call me Lottie.”

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