Page 11 of Curvy Girl and the Single Dad Cowboy

I shrug. "Most days. We have our disagreements like any family business."

Madeline returns with our drinks, then disappears again. Charlotte wraps her hands around her iced tea, staring at me over the rim of her glass.

"So, Vincent Covington, cattle rancher, single father, brother of four... what do you do when you're not working or parenting?"

The question catches me off guard. It's been so long since anyone's asked me about myself beyond my responsibilities.

"I read. Whenever I can find the time."

Her eyes light up. "Really? What kind of books?"

"History, mostly. Some fiction. Louis L'Amour is a guilty pleasure." I find myself oddly embarrassed by the admission. "You?"

"I'm a mystery buff. Agatha Christie, Doyle, modern thrillers. I love trying to solve the puzzle before the detective does." She smiles. "When I was a kid, I wanted to be Nancy Drew."

"And instead you became a nanny," I observe. "How did that happen?"

Her smile softens. "I've always loved working with children. There's something about helping shape a young mind, being part of their journey... it's special. I studied early childhood education in college, worked at a daycare for a few years, then started taking private nanny positions."

"And now you're here, in the middle of nowhere."

"Now I'm here," she agrees, her eyes meeting mine. "And despite my car breaking down and making a terrible first impression, I'm glad."

Before I can respond, Madeline arrives with our burgers, setting them down with a flourish.

"Enjoy, you two," she says with a wink that I pointedly ignore.

Charlotte takes a bite of her burger and her eyes widen.

"Oh my god," she murmurs after swallowing. "You weren't kidding. This is amazing."

I find myself watching her enjoyment with unexpected pleasure. "Told you."

We eat in silence for a few minutes before Charlotte speaks again. "What about Lily? What should I know that wasn't in my briefing?"

I set down my burger, considering. "She's smart. Too smart sometimes—picks up on everything, even when you think she's not listening. She loves animals, stories, and anything purple. Hates green vegetables and having her hair washed."

Charlotte nods, absorbing this. "And what about her mother? I know it's none of my business, but if I'm going to help Lily, it would be good to understand what happened."

"Sarah left a year ago. Said motherhood wasn't what she expected, that she felt trapped. Lily was four." My voice hardens. She calls maybe once a month, usually when she feels guilty. Promises to visit, never does."

Charlotte's expression is sympathetic but not pitying, which I appreciate. "That must be incredibly difficult for both of you."

“Lily has both good and bad days. She still asks when her mom is coming home, even though I've explained that's not happening.”

"And you? Do you have good and bad days too?"

The question is gentle, but it hits like a physical blow. No one asks how I'm handling it anymore. They just assume I'm fine, the stoic single dad soldiering on.

"I'm fine," I say automatically. Then, surprising myself: "Most days. I don't miss Sarah—our marriage was already on shaky ground before she left. But I hate what it's done to Lily."

Charlotte nods, understanding in her eyes. "Children are resilient, but they need stability. Consistency."

"Which is why I need you to be sure about this job," I say, bringing us back to my earlier concern. "Lily can't handle another person walking out of her life."

"I understand that, Vincent. And I promise you, I didn't take this position lightly." She hesitates, then adds, "My fiancé—ex-fiancé—he wanted me to give up working with children. Said being a nanny was just playing house with other people's kids, that it wasn't a 'real career.'" Her expression hardens slightly. "That was the beginning of the end for us. I won't apologize for loving what I do, and I won't abandon it—or Lily—on a whim."

There's a conviction in her voice that's impossible to doubt. I find myself believing her, despite my better judgment.

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