Bare Feet & Cowboy Boots

Rude Cowboys & Bad Beginnings

Maka's toes curled into the wet mud as she watched Soul disappear into the dead of night. Inky black swallowed snowy white with every step he took further onto the property. The last thing she remembered seeing was him yanking off his hat and running a hand through his wild, matted hair in frustration, a behavior she had grown accustomed to since coming to the ranch. He did it when the producer insisted he continue the show, when the other girls refused to leave him alone, and when Maka told him to pick someone else.

It was a sign that he didn't know what to do.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw the other two girls, camera men, and producer glaring at her - blaming her for the departure of their precious bachelor. Her heart plummeted down to her stomach as she blinked away the tears that pricked her eyes. It was her fault, she knew that, but she didn't need them to remind her through their vicious looks. She was aware that what she had said to him a few nights ago was wrong, but what else was she supposed to do?

Remnants of food still sat on the plates at the dining room table, the only sign of their meal from moments before the final rose ceremony. Her gaze flitted over it, though, as they instead fell on Wes. Soft blue eyes stared back at her, and his small smile warmed her cold, aching heart. Hope fluttered through her chest as he nodded outside, and she remembered the conversation they had the night before. It was clear what she was supposed to do now.

Facing the direction Soul had run off to, she took a careful step forward and walked until the darkness swallowed her as well.

8 weeks earlier...

When her co-worker and supposed best friend had said Maka would be doing something she would never do in a million years, she thought it'd be something like sky-diving or traveling Europe alone. Something simple. Not once had she thought it would be this. Not once did she think her birthday present would involve her riding in the back of a tinted limo as it drove to an unknown location.

Not once did she think she'd be a contestant for The Bachelor!

Yet there she was. Wearing a strapless periwinkle dress that Liz had picked out special for the occasion, she was headed down a road that would take her to her possible future relationship.

Or husband.

God she was going to strangle the woman when they met again. The show seriously needed to reconsider its option to nominate someone for this hell hole excuse of reality TV. Maka enjoyed watching it on Monday nights curled up on her couch with a glass of wine, sure, but that was to ridicule the idiotic contestants since they were only there for the exposure. None of them cared about love or happily ever after. Their false tells of falling in love with the bachelor and wanting nothing more than to marry him were distorted. It was all an act for the cameras; to make America believe that finding your soulmate was quick and easy. She saw it in their hungry gazes, the petty catfights they started, and the unnecessary drama behind the show.

They didn't care about the bachelor. It was all about them.

This wasn't her.

Maka wasn't like the fame-chasing beauty queens that applied for the show.

The limo slowed to a steady stop, alerting Maka that they had arrived, and she waited for the driver to open the door for her. To be honest, limos weren't the high luxury vehicles television portrayed them as. They were far too small with uncomfortable seats and stuffy. She felt like she was suffocating.

When the door opened, she took the driver's hand and allowed him to help her out as her other hand carefully kept her dress from riding up. She refused to be front page news the next day by giving America a shot of her panties.