DIRT ON MY BOOTS
The humid evening air over Sweet Apple Acres Farm was settling over the rolling orchards like a heavy blanket, threatening to drown the lone man out finishing the harvest in his own sweat. The weather man said that it was about eighty degrees, but with the horrid summer humidity gripping Canterlot City and the surrounding countryside, it felt more like ninety or worse. Big Macintosh Apple was no stranger to long working days in the hot summer, but today even he felt like he was going to suffocate from it.
He hefted a heavy bushel basket of golden delicious apples onto a wagon he pulled with his reliable old tractor before pulling his bandana off and wiping the sweat from his brown and his orange-red hair. Mercifully, the sun was beginning to set, making it feel less hot than it had that afternoon. He looked back at the other bushels waiting to be brought into the barn. A smile crept across his face when he realized that he was almost done. Just two more loads and he was good to go. Then he could shower and shave and get himself ready.
Tonight was a big one for him, and he had no intentions of being late.
Starting up the old tractor and feeling blessed for the brief respite it gave him from physical labor, he puttered up the path to the Apple Family's old barn, taking in the beautiful sunset as he drove. When he finally parked, he swiftly opened the doors and hefted the bushels in with the rest. The process was repeated twice more, and by the time he was done the setting sun had turned the sky a fiery red. Perfect timing, as his phone chimed to alert him to a message as he lifted the last apple bushel into the barn. He smiled when he pulled it out and read the text.
Hey Cowboy, I'm almost ready <3
Grinning, he texted back.
That's great! Give me about a half hour to get ready and I'll meet you at your door
With that, he slipped his phone back in his pocket and trudged back up toward the house, grinning the entire way up there.
Twenty minutes later, he had shaved, showered and changed into a clean outfit. He exchanged his red plaid shirt for a black overshirt and white undershirt, and a black cord neckerchief tied with his "lucky woggle" as he liked to call it, which had once belonged to his now deceased father. He capped the look off with a white cowboy hat, formerly belonging to his beloved late mother, before slipping into some clean socks and his boots before walking down the stairs.
He stopped briefly to take a look into the living room. Granny Smith he could hear in the kitchen, cooking supper, while his two sisters busied themselves with an old radio. Apple Bloom didn't notice him, too engrossed in the radio play to hear him come down, but Applejack managed to look back in his direction and flash him a knowing smirk and a wink. He smirked back before heading outside and clambering into his massive black pickup truck. The engine rumbled to life, and he was off down the dirt road from the farm and onto the highway into the city.
He was halfway there when he noticed a problem.
Evidently, in his excitement, he had grabbed his work boots instead of his regular day boots, and the soles of the aforementioned were caked in mud. It was too late to turn around and change them. If he did that, he would run late, something he was loathed to do. He was about to go out on a date in muddy boots and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Cheerilee certainly wasn't going to be impressed.
He mentally kicked himself the entire way as he drove. How could he have forgotten something so basic? If there was a manual for how men were supposed to dress for a date, not wearing mud-caked shoes would be right at the top of the list of "don't do's". He didn't have much time to think about it, however, as before he knew it he found himself parked outside Cheerliee's modest ranch home. Cursing himself a bit, he hopped out and tried to get some of the mud off before he started walking up to the front door.
Thankfully, Cheerliee didn't seem to notice when she finally came outside, and he was too blown away by what he saw to really think about it.
Cheerliee had foregone her usual work attire and was sporting a pair of low-cut jeans combined with a white long-sleeved shirt capped off with a black denim Western-pattern vest and a black bolo-tie. The tie was capped off by a silver woggle set with a green enamel... apple?
Boy, she knows me too well. He thought, unable to take his eyes off her as she adjusted the black cowgirl hat she crowned herself with and leaned in the doorway with a half-lidded look, crossing one booted foot across the other. She flashed him her cutest smile as he walked up while trying to discreetly remove some of the dried menace from his boot.
"I hope I'm not late." He said, tipping his own hat to her. She just winked.
"You're right on time, cowboy." He melted at hearing her voice. Like music to his ears, it never ceased to get his heart fluttering. He gave his boots a light tap on the porch. "Something wrong?" She asked. He gave a nervous giggle. He was caught now, and he wasn't about to lie to his lady-love.
"Well, I seemed to have grabbed the wrong boots on my way out." He showed her the mud that still clung to them. "I've got a bit of mud on 'em. Sorry." His head hung a bit, ashamed of himself for showing up with his work boots still dirty. Cheerliee looked at them for a few moments, ones that felt like torture for the young farmboy. Was she going to be upset with him? Tell him to leave her house? Yell at him? Tell him he was a filthy pig? When she finally looked back at him, the immense weight was lifted when he saw she was still smiling. She reached out a manicured hand and rubbed his bristled chin affectionately before planting a soft kiss on his lips.
"Well then, I guess we'll just have to dance that old dust right off them tonight, won't we?" She asked, giving him another wink. Big Mac was surprised he didn't melt into a puddle when she did this. Smiling with relief and happiness, he reached his arm out.
"Shall we, darlin'?" He asked. She gave him a devilish grin and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"I'm as a ready for this rodeo as you are, cowboy." She said. Big Mac's face turned crimson, but he kept his smile on his face as she took his arm and walked with him to his truck. "You've got a bit on your wheels too." She said.
"Heh, didn't want to run late washing them down." He explained. She grinned.
"It's alright, it just shows my man is a working man." She said, rubbing his cheek before allowing him to help her up into the passenger side of the cab. Taking his own seat and starting the truck, a familiar song soon came on to the radio. "Ooh, this is one of my favorites." Big Mac couldn't help but give a warm smile at how much she had embraced the country style. The two of them were soon off down the lonely road into the city, where his favorite honky tonk awaited his favorite girl. He lowered the window just enough for the cooling air to come into the cab, causing her hair to flow in the in the wind and for her to let out a contented sigh. He turned just for a moment to enjoy the view before turning back to the road and taking in the setting sun as he drove.
Yes, he might have a little dirt on his boots and a little mud on his wheels, but he was taking her uptown that night the same, and his truck shined just like it was new with her pretty smile.
And after all, wasn't that all that mattered at that moment?