Page 16 of Rancher's Return

“No it’s not.” She had a feeling they were talking about more than Colton and Lily, so she deliberately turned the subject back to their kids. “With Colton, what you’re basically telling me is that you’re worried he’s more experienced than Lily?”

“Yes.”

“He probably is. Lily has never dated anyone before. She has a mother who got pregnant at sixteen. The paranoia runs a little high in our household.”

“If you don’t want them dating, I can tell him...”

“No. I think what we discussed earlier stands. If we turn them into Romeo and Juliet, it’s only going to get worse. I’m just going to have to try to keep talking to Lily. Keep her communicating with me. It’s the best I can do.”

“You have every right to yell at me, you know,” he said.

“Would that make you more comfortable?”

“Yeah. Now that you ask.”

“Then I’m definitely not going to yell at you.”

His lips twitched. They regarded each other for a moment.

“So. Want to...walk around the carnival?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“What else are we going to do? Anyway, then we can keep an eye on the kids.”

That was true, but really he wanted to keep talking to her. She was right; he almost would’ve been more comfortable if she had yelled at him again. If she’d have picked up right where she left off years ago. Mainly because there was some part of him that still wanted to feel that guilt. That still wanted to feel that culpability for the accident. Because that guilt was his comfort zone. For a long time, he had acted out of a self-destructive place with that guilt. But he had stopped, and he had learned to use it as fuel. So maybe part of him was looking for more. Along with that extra bit of absolution. She felt linked to all that. He didn’t want to lose touch with her.

“All right,” she said.

The booths were set up on the sidewalks, in front of businesses. There were games and snacks and other things designed to appeal to teens, and all the proceeds went to fundraising for the school. There were caramel apples and balloon dart games. The kind of thing he never the hell would’ve gone to when he was in high school. He wondered if the boys were secretly enjoying this carnival, or if it felt really cheesy to them. But then, wasn’t having something light and cheesy in your life a privilege?

Twenty years ago, he had been reeling from the death of his little sister. He had let it take the joy away from him. It was that loss that had put him on the road when his friends died.

So he had learned that the pain a person carried could hurt other people. No one was an island.

He had also learned that the ability to be happy was a gift.

“Candy apple?” he asked now.

“Oh sure,” she said. “Why not?” She paused. “We’re not on a date.”

“No,” he said. “We are not.”

“Good. Just making sure.”

“I don’t think you can accidentally go on a date,” he said.

“Well, I hope not. I’d hate to break my seventeen-year dateless streak.”

“Seventeen years?”

“I have a kid. And yes, you can date when you have kids. But I decided that I didn’t want to take the risk. Of having her get attached to somebody, and then having it not work out between us. It just always felt too volatile. I admire the people who do it. Who try to make that work. I just couldn’t... I’d already had too many losses. And I didn’t want to visit any on my daughter. At least none that I could help.”

“Right.” He felt sad for a second, because he knew the weight of those losses. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He had been part of that.

“Platonic candy apple,” he said.

“That is allowed.”

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