Page 2 of Old-Fashioned Rancher

Avery might look like the spitting image of her mother, with tightly coiled dark ringlets, rosy cheeks, and a charming personality, but she got her stubborn streak from me. We butted heads on more than one occasion during her teenage years over the subject of dating.

“That’s because you don’t behave yourself,” she replied. “I still haven’t forgiven you for scaring the shit out of my first boyfriend. He literally wet his pants because he was so intimidated and you kept interrogating him. You wouldn’t let up.”

I shrugged, feeling no remorse over that particular incident.

“Do you really think that boy would have survived with a rancher for a wife? He couldn’t keep up with you.”

Avery wrinkled her nose and looked away, feigning a pout.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

I chuckled.

“Since we’re on the subject of dating,” she said with a sly note in her voice. “What about you, Dad? Are you seeing anyone?”

“That answer hasn’t changed for twenty years, sweetie. I’m over the hill now. An old man. My dating days are over.”

Thank God for that.

I hadn’t dated since the divorce, claiming excuses like I was too busy, or I had a five-year old daughter to raise. The truth of the matter was that I had no clue how to be a good husband. I knew cattle and horses like the back of my hand, but I wasn’t romantic, and I’d seen the way Diana suffered because of it. I couldn’t stand to watch the light go out in another woman’s eyes because I was too rough around the edges.

“Not true,” Avery said. “There are plenty of people who date later in life. I could set you up.”

I sputtered in disbelief.

“Absolutely not.”

“But the apps—”

I shot a pointed look at Avery.

“Sweetie, I don’t even use that coffee maker you bought me for Christmas five years ago. It has too many goddamn buttons on the fucking thing. And the coffee is more frothy milk than anything else.”

“That’s because you keep using the cappuccino setting, Dad.”

“Which proves my point. Too many goddamn buttons, like I said. Do you really think I’d be any good at using a dating app?”

Avery waved off my protest like it was nothing more than a pesky gnat.

“You built a multi-million-dollar ranch. I’m sure you could figure out a little dating app. Besides, you would have so many matches. You’re the quintessential cowboy with that chiseled jawline, deep raspy voice, and brooding attitude.”

“I don’t brood,” I scoffed.

“You would be like catnip to the ladies, I just know it.”

“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“I could run your account,” Avery offered. “You wouldn’t have to mess with it at all. Just go on a few dates.”

“You make it sound so simple,” I said in a flat voice.

“See? I knew I’d win you over eventually.”

“Wore me down is the more accurate way to put it.”

“Is that a yes? You’ll do it?”

“No,” I said, emphatically.

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