We met the old-fashioned way—at a country bar. After a long day working the National Western Stock Show, Morgan went to the Grizzly Rose with a coworker who just so happened to be a friend of one of Millie's friends. The stars aligned, the music was loud, and Morgan walked up to Millie and asked, “Want to dance?” Shockingly, she said yes. (We’re all still surprised.) When the night came to an end and Morgan’s phone was dead, he did the next most charming thing: added his number into Millie’s phone as: “Morgan Hot Guy at Bar Ill Nevet Forget.” (Yes, Nevet. No, it’s never been corrected.) Then he called himself from her phone... and promptly disappeared. A week passed. Millie assumed she’d been ghosted (spoiler: she was) and went back to the usual college grind. Note from Morgan: I thought I was the one who had been ghosted... Then one day, while scrolling on her Tinder Troll account (we won’t get into it), she saw a message: “Hi” —from a Morgan. Suspicious. Curious and a little salty, Millie texted: “Hi Morgan Hot Guy at Bar Ill Nevet Forget, I figured you forgot about me.” He called immediately. He asked her out. She said no. (She had important plans involving a couch, Netflix, and ice cream.) A week later, she gave in. And well… here we are. The Proposal (Featuring Colic Scares, Cold Ground, and One Very Confused Horse) Nearly six years later - countless adventures, a few hundred sarcastic “so when are you proposing?” remarks, and a lot of love - Morgan decided it was time to pop the question. But Millie being Millie, she wasn’t making it easy. So Morgan did what any logical man would do: he faked a horse emergency. He told Millie that her beloved horse Dusty was colicing. Without hesitation, Millie grabbed the banamine and rushed up to the shed, ready to save her favorite tall blonde (the horse, to be clear). Dusty was completely fine. She said, “What’s wrong? He looks fine.” Morgan: “He was rolling and acting weird.” Millie: “...Horses roll.” She continued inspecting Dusty, while behind her, Morgan knelt in the cold muck—**on one knee, next to horse poop—**waiting for her to turn around. Eventually, she did. And for the first time in a long time, she was absolutely speechless. And that, dear guests, is how “Morgan Hot Guy at Bar Ill Nevet Forget” became “Morgan Fiancé Who Faked a Colic Emergency.” We can’t wait to celebrate this ridiculous, wonderful love story with you.