Disclaimer: I don't own hidalgo or Frank. Wish I did, but I don't. I do, however, own Callista Santiago and anything related to her, such as family, past, etc. x3 If I owned all that other stuff, then I'd be rich. And very happy. But I'm not.

This is not historically correct. Frank T. Hopkins never actually met this girl, nor did he ever take part in the plot given. Nope. It's all my overactive imagination doing the work. X3

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The Sun was quick to rise up over the landscape of South Dakota, casting golden rays onto the trees, grass, and any other object within their paths; pinks and reds spreading into the sky that would soon become a light, baby blue with small balls of white drifting lazily along. The birds had not even woken up from their sleep to greet the new day, the chirping leaving silence in the air. Occasionally, the soft breeze would ruffle the leaves of the trees or a faint whinny from one of the pastures with a horse already turned out would break through.

The light was what awoke Frank, shining straight into his eyes through the window of the room where he had been deposited. He rolled over coming close to the edge of the king size bed, an arm slumping over the side dangling towards the thick off-white rug that covered the wooden flooring of the room. A groan escaped his lips, the thoughts of going back to sleep soon vanishing to the pounding of his heart in his head.

The fallen arm was soon reached up, oblivious to the fact that he was not in his hotel room or on the race track and instead in a house where he didn't even know the owner. He was shocked to find bandages wrapped tightly around it, and no cowboy hat. Grumbling something that sounded like some curses, he reached a hand up to the wooden end table, trying to find his needed accessory. Instead, his hand wrapped around a piece of parchment that was folded in half, a loopy scrawl of his name written on it.

Frank arched a brow. Tilting his head slightly, opening it as he propped his torso up with his elbows, and now facing the iron headboard. As he slowly read it he blinked, slowly taking in what had actually happened.

You might not remember what happened to you, but if you want answers, come on downstairs for breakfast and I'll explain.

It was really helpful, no? Sliding his legs off the bed and sitting up, rubbing his eyes, he looked around. His gaze finally did land on his beloved hat, along with his newly bought gun, both resting on an old wooden table that had some papers stacked in random piles. As he walked over and picked them up, he checked to make sure the gun was loaded, keeping himself calm even though he had no idea where in the hell he was or what happened. They had to have been on a ranch, and if he was brought here and patched up, wouldn't that mean that they meant no harm?

He opened the door, the smell of cooking bacon and eggs reaching him, following it downstairs. His eyes glanced to the wall along the stairs long enough to spot a portrait of a young girl on the back of a horse, sitting sidesaddle in a dress. He arched a brow, pondering it over. Was this their daughter? It looked old, so she must've grown up by now.

He turned a corner and found himself in the kitchen of the house, radiating a mixture of smells of breakfast. He took a few more steps in, boots clicking against the wooden floors of the house.

At the stove a figure jumped slightly, pivoting on her toes as she walked over to the table with two plates piled with eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, and toast, although her gaze met Frank and stayed there. "Glad to see you're up. You took a pretty nasty fall." Her voice sounded cheerful and warm, though an edge was always as the end of each statement that was almost a warning. She gave him a small grin, taking a seat in one of the wooden chairs around the table, motioning to the one across from her. "Take a seat and dig in." She offered.

Frank took the offer up without a word, though a million more questions began buzzing in the back of his mind. He watched her for a moment before he took a bite of toast. "You mind telling me who in the hell you are and why I'm here?" He arched a brow in slight suspicion, before he looked to his plate and resumed eating.

"Callista Santiago, at your service." She said, taking a drink of water. "Friends call me Cass. I saw your spill on the course, thought it was best to get you out of there before the other riders came." There was another brief pause as she ate a few more bites. "You mind telling me what happened?"

Frank shrugged as he looked back up to the female opposite him. "Horse got spooked, he bucked, and I flew off. Nothing to it." He muttered, becoming annoyed with himself when he realized what a stupid move he had done and how bad he probably looked. "Did you find that bastard of an animal?"

"Nope, it ran off before I got there." She rested her elbows on either side of her plate, her fingers intertwining under her chin. "So, cowboy, you got a name? Or would you prefer I call you 'cowboy'?" A small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, arching a brow slightly.

"Frank. Frank Hopkins."

Cass blinked, her face paling slightly, and if her hands hadn't been under her chin her jaw would've dropped. She was sitting across from the best long distance racer in the world. And yet, she didn't recognize him. "You…you're Frank Hopkins?" She asked. She was not only shocked that he was here, but that he was the one who had been bucked off his horse. "But…"

"What? I'm not allowed to mess up? Whoopdedo, sister, it happens. You've done it once or twice, I'm sure." He grumbled, getting rather hostile about the topic. Cass picked up on it easily, and rolled her eyes, beginning to get annoyed.

"Cool it, cowboy." She said, standing up as she dropped her fork on her plate with a clatter, picking up the plate and empty cup and dumping it in the sink. Frank followed suit, before cutting in front of her, looking down into her eyes. It was Cass who spoke, however. "You and I aren't going to work." She said, gaze not wavering from his own. When she did break away, her feet carried her to the back door, hand picking up her cowboy hat from the counter. "I'm heading to the barn. You're welcome to come." The door opened, shut, and Cass was gone.

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I love reviews, I will tell you that right now. I've been horrible with updating this story, and I'm terribly sorry for the long wait for a new chapter. I'm glad so many people like it!

Responses

Butlerphan666: Har de har har, sweetie. Yeah yeah yeah. –grin- Glad you like it. I'm going to update more…I promise.

Ashley: Thanks. I'll be sure to add more description in...I think I did a bit better. Have no fears, Hidalgo will be described in the next chapter or so.

TheDukesAndPadfootsSharedCelticPuzzleStrangerRangerGrl: I did, finally. Sorry about the wait.

Super Becki: Glad to hear you like it!

Bluebonnet: First and foremost, thank you for the long review! I'm glad you like the story. Yeah, it was fun making Cass have to struggle with Frank. I took your tip on taking out some stuff in the summary. I have some issues with flow. I think they're getting a bit better though, in this chapter, and hopefully even more better in the next.