Mr. Wilson, a retired cowboy and lowly farmer lived in North Sioux City in South Dakota. Age had caught up with him in the last few years and he showed visible sins of it. His sun beaten face was creased with thick lines and a shadow of facial hair. Mr. Wilson was not stylish by any means. His daily attire consisted of a pair of worn out blue jeans, a flannel button down shirt, and his favorite brown leather cowboy hat.
Mr. Wilson lived a pretty quiet life on the country side of South Dakota with his wife Sarah. Wilson and Sarah never had children of their own. For some time this bothered both of them, though Sarah would argue it bothers her more saying, “Men just don’t know what a woman goes through.”
During Mr. Wilson’s cowboy days, he would go on many adventures exploring to see what the world offered. Sarah never wanted to go, but each time he returned home he always brought her something. He would bring things like baby bunnies, and puppies. Sarah’s happiness was important to him. He wanted to give her something to nurture, to care for. For the longest time she would except his gifts with excitement. Sarah would busy herself bottle feeding and knitting little blankets for the little critters. But, about a few years ago Sarah changed. She wasn’t excited anymore. It’s like she got cold. Mr. Wilson wanted so much to give her a child, but he knew they were both too old. He had one last plan up his sleeve. It would be his most important adventure.