These boots are (Dixie and Gretchen)

[Winston Family Values]

The scene opens in a dusty, sun-drenched barn somewhere in the heart of the middle of nowhere. Dressed in black jeans, a fitted leather jacket, and combat boots, her intense gaze cuts through the calm. Her blond hair is pulled back, and there's a quiet storm brewing behind her eyes as she begins to speak.

"Well, well, well, looks like them Best Friends Forever and them Birds of Prey. This will be a bit messy. Now, I ain't one to brag, but y'all city slickers might wanna take a good, long look around. 'Cause the winds change a lot out here. Things can change in a tap og ya foot. It's about who’s got the heart, the backbone, and the guts to stand their ground when the storm comes a-callin'."

Dixie takes a slow, deliberate step forward, her boots kicking up dust as she walks.

"Best Friends Forever, y'all been runnin' around like a couple of schoolgirls at recess, holdin' hands and thinkin' that friendship's gonna save ya in the ring. But let me tell ya somethin'. Out here, when the wolves start howlin' and the coyotes come sniffin' around, friendship ain't worth a hill of beans. It's fight or die, plain and simple. And I've been fightin' since the day I was born, scrappin' with boys twice my size just to keep my kin safe. So, when that bell rings, it ain't just me you're facin'—it's a lifetime of battles fought and won."

She pauses, her eyes narrowing as she shifts her attention to the Birds of Prey.

"And as for you Birds of Prey, y'all might think you're somethin' special, soarin' high above the rest of us, lookin' down your beaks like we're nothin' but ants on the ground. But the higher you fly, the harder you fall, and honey, I’ve got a lasso with your name on it. You come flappin' into my territory, and I’ll clip those wings right quick, bringin' you back down to earth with a thud that'll echo for miles."

Dixie cracks a small smile, full of grit and determination.

"So y'all better saddle up and hold on tight, 'cause this Southern gal ain't backin' down, ain't takin' no prisoners, and sure as shootin' ain't gonna lose to a bunch of high-flyin' city folk. When the dust settles and the crows come callin', it'll be my hand raised high, and y'all will be nothin' but a memory, another tale of the city slickers who thought they could hang with Dixie Winston and got taught a hard lesson in Southern hospitality."

With a confident nod, Dixie tips her hat again and turns away, the camera fading to black as she walks out of the barn, the sun setting behind her.

Dixie and Bucky lie side by side in the dim light of the bedroom, the soft glow of the lamp casting long shadows on the walls. Dixie stares up at the ceiling, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions she tries hard to suppress. Bucky is close enough that she can feel his warmth, but she keeps a slight distance, her body tense with the effort of maintaining the boundaries she’s set.

She rolls onto her side, facing away from him, hoping to create just enough space to remind herself of what this is supposed to be. Casual, simple—nothing more. But it’s getting harder each time to ignore the way her heart skips a beat when he laughs or the way she feels when he looks at her as if she’s the only person in the world.

Bucky shifts behind her, his arm draping over her waist. She freezes for a moment, caught between wanting to pull away and wanting to give in to the comfort of his touch. Her mind races with thoughts of how dangerous it could be to let emotions get involved. She reminds herself of the agreement—no strings attached, no complications. Yet, as Bucky’s breathing evens out, signaling he’s drifting to sleep, she finds herself wishing for something more, something that could make this all less complicated.

But Dixie knows better. She can’t afford to let her guard down, not after everything she’s been through. So she steels herself, takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes, trying to will away the longing she feels. For now, she’ll keep her emotions in check, no matter how much harder it becomes each night.

The camera opens on a serene, yet imposing scene in a dense forest. The tall trees sway gently in the breeze, and the ground is littered with fallen leaves. The air is thick with the smell of pine and earth. Standing in the middle of it all is Gretchen Winston. She's dressed in worn jeans, a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and her signature cowboy hat tilted low over her eyes. Gretchen tips her hat up, revealing a confident grin as she begins to speak.

"You know, they say the woods can be a pretty unforgiving place. It's a place where the strong survive, and the weak? Well, they get swallowed up, forgotten, and left to rot. Now, I've heard some chatter about these so-called Best Friends Forever and Birds of Prey fluttering into my territory, thinking they can take me on. But let me tell you something, girls. You step into these woods, you're not just dealing with any ordinary fighter. You're dealing with a predator."

Gretchen takes a step forward, her voice low and dangerous, every word dripping with intensity.

"Best Friends Forever? Cute name. Real cute. But friendship ain't gonna save you when you're lost in the dark, when the only sound you hear is your own heartbeat echoing in your ears. Out here, there's no hand to hold, no shoulder to cry on. It's just you and the danger lurking around every corner. And believe me, I've been the danger for longer than you can imagine. I've seen bonds break, alliances crumble, and 'forever' turn into 'never' when the going gets tough, the very few stand tall through everything. Is your friendship one of them? So when you step into that ring with me, don't expect any mercy. Expect a fight that'll leave you questioning everything you thought you knew."

Her gaze shifts slightly, focusing on an unseen point in the distance as she addresses the Birds of Prey.

"And then there's you, Birds of Prey. You think you're predators? You think you're at the top of the food chain? You might've flown high, seen the world from above, but when you’re in my territory, you're nothing but prey. You see, I don't just hunt. I don't just survive. I thrive on the challenge, the chase, the thrill of bringing down something that thinks it's untouchable. So spread those wings all you want, but once I get my hands on you, those wings are getting clipped, and you'll be grounded, left to deal with the reality of facing Gretchen Winston."

Gretchen smirks, the intensity in her eyes never fading.

"So bring your friends, bring your flock, bring everything you've got. It won't matter. In the end, I'll be the one standing tall, and you'll be just another set of names on my list, another couple of pretenders who thought they could take on the best and failed. The woods don’t care about your fancy names or your flashy moves. The woods care about survival. And surviving against us? It ain't happening."

With that, Gretchen turns her back to the camera, walking deeper into the forest as the screen fades to black, leaving only the echo of her final words lingering in the air.

Gretchen had invited Spencer to come on a date with her to a surprise location. She seemed very excited about it and had even got to pick him up in her old 1963 Chevy StepSide C-10 pickup that had enough room for Spencer in both height and broadness to fit in.

Spencer was dressed in a white tank top, black jeans, snakeskin cowboy boots and cowboy hat. He whistled upon seeing Gretchen, but it wasn’t immediately obvious if it was because of her or her truck.

Gretchen beams at him and pats the passenger seat, “Ready when you are, darling.”

He hopped in, with a smile and kissed her on the cheek, “Always ready for ya, hon.”

Gretchen kissed him softly, as she started driving the truck, “I really hope you like where I am taking you today.”

“And where would that be?”

Gretchen grinned, “There is a little place not too far up the road that is having a little auction for some baby animals. I thought maybe we could look around. Maybe find something for your parent's farm.”

“Hope the place is ethical,” Spencer said. “We have standards on how our animals are treated.”

“It looked like it was,” Gretchen said as she drove, she hoped Spencer would like this, be excited about it, and maybe even like that she was thinking of something for his family.

“We’ll know soon enough,” Spencer said. “Rare ta find such a country girl.”

Gretchen beamed, “Always wanted to have a farm, even as a lil’ girl.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re so inta me,” Spencer teased playfully. “The family farm.”

Gretchen giggled as she made a turn, “I’m inta ya for a lot of reasons. Your kind heart is one of them. The absolute ‘would be a good dad’ vibe is another. The fact I told ya I liked fishing you asked what kind and didn’t treat me like I was making it up. That and ya butt.”

Spencer blushed. “Thank ya. I’ve always tried ta be a good man, someone Ma an’ Pa would be proud of. I would love ta be a Pa maself one day. Think helpin’ raise my siblin’s got me ready for that responsibility, y’know. An’ yeah I love that we share so many outdoor interests, and I love your butt too.”

“I feel ready to be a mama myself, raising most my family too.” Gretchen said casually as she parked the truck in the field that had a couple trucks and cars in it with a few people milling around pens and things.

“I figured, yeah,” Spencer smiled as he got out of the truck and opened the door for her. He then offered her his hand, ever the gentleman. “It’s good we share similar long term goals, it makes me feel good about our future together.”

Gretchen took his hand and smiled, “I feel the same way.”

Together they walked over to the pens that had baby animals in them. A few goat kids, a colt, some chickens, some goslings, a few herding dog puppies, and a not small number of calves.

“Where do you want to look first?”

“Always been a sucker for puppies.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Gretchen squeezed his hand as they walked over to look at the puppies. Gretchen could identify a few border collies, German shepherds, Australian shepherds, English sheepdogs, and a very sleepy shetland sheepdog.

Gretchen saw the soft side of the gentle giant on full display as he interacted with the border collies first, the dogs seemed to gravitate towards his friendly demeanour, happily wagging their tails as he stroked them. Gretchen watched him with a smile as he pet them, reaching over petting a few herself.

“Got a favorite?”

“I think that’s like asking someone ta pick their favourite baby.”

Gretchen giggled, “Want to get all three?”

“Tempting.”

“I’d be willing to get em for ya.”

“It’s a sweet offer,” Spencer smiled. “But I don’t want ya ta spend your money on me.”

Spencer obviously had traditional values of the man providing for his woman, ideals that seemed to clash with most modern women’s wants and needs.

“Oh. Okay. No worries.” Gretchen shrugged. “Just thought it’d be a nice gift for your folks too.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Spencer said.

“Of course.” Gretchen smiled.

They moved along to look at the chickens next. Gretchen and Spencer are wandering around a bustling farm animal auction, their eyes wide with curiosity and delight. The air is filled with the sounds of animals and the chatter of farmers. Gretchen, with her warm smile and soft eyes, leans over to admire a pen full of fluffy baby chicks, her hand gently brushing over the top of the enclosure. Spencer, standing beside her, is equally captivated, his gaze fixed on a pair of tiny piglets playfully nudging each other in another pen.

As they move from pen to pen, they exchange quiet comments, pointing out the different animals and sharing their thoughts on each one. Gretchen’s gentle nature shines through as she reaches out to touch a small lamb, her fingers brushing through its soft wool. Spencer, always attentive, watches her with a fond smile, clearly enjoying the peaceful simplicity of the moment. The auction continues around them, but for Gretchen and Spencer, the focus is on these small, tender moments with the baby animals, creating a memory of connection and joy.