Life on the campaign trail for support staff often involves long days that lead to lonely nights in scantly furnished short-term rentals, with no real-life social network to engage in outside of colleagues.

Stephanie Schweitzer, a political operative, had fallen victim to this routine when she relocated in January 2014 from New York to Austin, Tex., to work as deputy regional finance director on the gubernatorial run of Wendy Davis, a Texas senator known for her 11-hour filibuster against Senate Bill 5, an anti-abortion measure. Ms. Schweitzer, who said she had settled into a “pretty pathetic” apartment with only a bed, found herself feeling “a bit ungrounded and foreign.”

Refusing to accept the fate of her peripatetic career, Ms. Schweitzer, now 36, recalled how she joined a group called Liberal Ladies Who Lunch, through which she was introduced to another single woman around her age. When she mentioned to her new friend that she wanted to try two-stepping even though she didn’t yet own cowboy boots, her friend suggested that together they check out the Love Leighs, a roots band with two ukuleles, who were playing the White Horse, a honky-tonk on Austin’s east side. The friend’s interest in going waned as the time came closer because she was nursing a hangover, but Ms. Schweitzer insisted.

“I didn’t want to show up alone, because I was sick of just showing up places and not knowing people and feeling awkward and then being like, forget it, I’m leaving,” Ms. Schweitzer said.

There at the White Horse, known as the Horse, she met Juan Pablo Garza, or JP, who grew up on the Texas-Mexico border and for whom cowboy boots were a staple. He gave her every reason to stay.

The route into politics taken by Ms. Schweitzer, a Wisconsin native with Sheboygan County dairy farmers on both sides of the family, was a byproduct of an acting career gone awry. In 2002, after graduating with a musical theater degree from Syracuse University, she moved to New York to pursue her dreams of becoming an actor, but ended up as a guide from 2004 to 2013 for On Location Tours. She regularly hosted a “Sex and the City” Hotspots Tour, with destinations including the stoop of the Perry Street brownstone where the fictional Carrie Bradshaw lived and where tourists would constantly stop for selfies.

“I think I was that girl that, like, wanted to be Carrie,” Ms. Schweitzer said.

As a way to build her acting reel, Ms. Schweitzer had produced a short video on eating disorders, an affliction she had struggled with personally. Energized by the effort, she took on lobbying stints in Washington for the Eating Disorders Coalition. Later, in 2012, she volunteered on President Obama’s re-election campaign. From there she interned with Senator Kirsten Gillibrand of New York and was a field organizer in New Jersey for Cory Booker’s successful Senate campaign.

With Rick Perry heading for the exits as governor of Texas, a colleague pitched her on considering a move to the Lone Star State, where a shake-up in the political landscape seemed to be brewing.

The potential for change increased significantly when shortly after Ms. Schweitzer’s friend had floated the idea, Wendy Davis announced she was running for governor on the heels of her much-publicized filibuster in pink Mizuno running shoes.

“This was really interesting to me because not only was it like this woman that was super inspiring and an issue I cared deeply about,” Ms. Schweitzer said, “but it wasn’t just about that cycle. There was something longer at stake. And I just got this bee in my bonnet that I was going to work for Wendy Davis.”

Mr. Garza was already at the White Horse that Sunday night in March, dancing to the Conjunto Los Pinkys band, when Ms. Schweitzer showed up with her friend, whom Mr. Garza happened to know.

Mr. Garza has never fully let go of his boyhood dream of playing Major League Baseball. He learned the game as a child in the South Texas border city of Laredo and eventually worked his way up to join the Cosme Ordoñez team, an all-star squad of high school kids who would pile in Mr. Garza’s Toyota pickup truck and cross over the border to play men in their mid-20s who were vying for spots on Mexican professional teams. As reality began to set in that his shot with the majors had eluded him, Mr. Garza pursued a nursing degree from Laredo Community College. He ultimately chose to focus on dialysis because it gave him Sundays off to play in recreational adult baseball leagues.

“I’ve been doing what I’ve been doing since I was 8 years old,” Mr. Garza, now 47, said. “Play baseball and be responsible for what I’ve got to get done. I don’t try to do too much because I might take away from playing on Sundays — that’s my outlet.”

He also got married and divorced, prompting the reignition of his passion for dancing — something that was first stoked when as a child he would go with his family on Friday nights to dance cumbias and waltzes to the live bands playing at the local hall in Laredo.

“After the divorce I was feeling like I’d never find love again,” Mr. Garza said. “I had my opportunities, but it just didn’t click. Not meant to happen then. For a while I would play the ‘because I love, I’ll let you go if you want to go’ game. ‘It is what it is’ game. ‘I love you, but I’m not in love with you’ game. I guess this is how I would gauge their love for me or mine for them.”

By the time he and Ms. Schweitzer met at the White Horse, Mr. Garza had adopted a regular Sunday routine of playing nine innings with his team, the Austin Arch Angels, and then go dancing at the Horse, where he’d become one of the regulars. “I hosed off, kept my cup-holder shorts on, changed into jeans and a clean shirt,” he said.

Ms. Schweitzer liked what she saw on the dance floor as Mr. Garza and her friend shuffled along. “At one point he was bringing her back over toward me,” she said, “and I just whacked him and I was like, ‘When’s it my turn?’ ” So they danced, first to songs by the Love Leighs and then the Soul Supporters.

She, too, had a love of dance that stretched back to her childhood. “When I was younger, my dad and I used to have these nights where he would get out all of his old 45s and we would dance until we were out of breath,” Ms. Schweitzer said. “He used to pick me up in his arms during the theme from Zeffirelli’s ‘Romeo & Juliet.’ I’ll never forget those memories.”

“You become one when you’re on the floor,” Mr. Garza said. “You want to go this way, she follows you. She knows. She anticipates where you’re going to go. It’s a pretty feeling — a feeling with no words. It’s just all touch. Listen. Sense. The nature of things.”

Before that night at the Horse was over, Mr. Garza dangled before Ms. Schweitzer the possibility of more swings around the dance floor. He didn’t quite ask her on a date but he casually mentioned that he would be at the Horse the next Friday for the Cajun band Gumbo Ce Soir. This time she arrived alone. Mr. Garza quickly spotted her and pulled her out onto the floor. The next day they had a rendezvous at the Continental Club, for Redd Volkaert, who used to play in Merle Haggard’s band, and then later that Saturday night they hit Güeros and the Rattle Inn.

That was the night she started feeling something for him. As they got back to their respective cars, she asked him about the next spot. He suggested still more dancing that Sunday at the Oasis on Lake Travis, and also that he pick her up this time. When he dropped her off at her apartment at the end of the night, they had their first kiss.

More whirlwind weekends were to follow for the tireless couple. By June, it was Mr. Garza’s turn to signal his seriousness to her — but he did it in a most curious way. He asked Ms. Schweitzer if Sadie, her cat, might consider moving in with him. The message confused Ms. Schweitzer at first but then she realized Mr. Garza’s coy humor.

One morning in October, Mr. Garza and Ms. Schweitzer were lying in bed. He began reading lyrics to the song “If I Were a Carpenter,” the Tim Hardin folk tune later popularized by Johnny and June Carter Cash.

If I were a carpenter

And you were a lady

Would you marry me anyway?

Would you have my baby?

But when Senator Davis’s bid for governor fell short, Ms. Schweitzer was suddenly faced with leaving Austin for Louisville, Ky., where Jack Conway, who was running for attorney general in Kentucky, wanted her on his campaign’s finance staff.

“I wasn’t really interested in the job, but professionally this is what I had been working for,” said Ms. Schweitzer, who flew to Louisville for a two-day interview. When she landed the job, she said it was like a punch to the gut. They wanted her to start right away, but she and Mr. Garza had a trip to New York planned. This bought her — and him — a week to deliberate.

“He could have possibly tried to get a traveling assignment there,” Ms. Schweitzer said. “But it just didn’t seem fair to ask him to uproot his life so that I could launch back into a crazy schedule, working long hours, traveling all the time and living in a tiny, temporary apartment.”

Ms. Schweitzer added, “I felt if I was going to choose him, I needed to choose him.”

So she did, and backed out of the Kentucky job. Before long she found a job with the Texas Civil Rights Project, where she is now the fund-raising director.

She and Mr. Garza were married April 2 at the Red Corral Ranch, in the Hill Country near Wimberley, Tex., where cellphone service is nonexistent and a collection of peacocks intermittently squawked, providing comic relief.

During the ceremony, held outside on a peerless Saturday afternoon under oak trees dotted with dream catchers, and with about 150 guests looking on, the couple performed an earth, air, fire, water processional during which they combined soils from Ms. Schweitzer’s two family farms and Mr. Garza’s Little League baseball field.

Bill Ogilvie, a dancing acquaintance who is also a Universal Life minister, talked about openness and humility as virtues that bring dancing partners together. After the ceremony, Mr. Ogilvie revealed, “JP was a ladies’ man until he met Stephanie. He used to have four or five women lined up to dance with him.”

The reception was a re-creation of the night they first met: Guests danced to live music by the Love Leighs and Soul Supporters and ate from a wedding cake depicting the White Horse’s red-and-black-tiled dance floor.

The bridesmaids, almost exclusively New Yorkers, expressed amazement over Ms. Schweitzer. One said, “She said she’d never live more than five blocks from Bergdorf’s.” Another said, “Prada, Escada, Miu Miu — she had it all.”

When it was time for Ms. Schweitzer’s maid of honor, Staci Jacobs, to give a toast, she brought it all back to “Sex and the City.” After all, Ms. Schweitzer still has a place on the Upper West Side and Mr. Garza seems to increasingly like visiting the city. Quoting Carrie Bradshaw, Ms. Jacobs said, “I am someone who is looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can’t-live-without-each-other love.” And then she said, “And it’s here in this city, on this ranch, in this room.”