Chapter 5

Ophelia

It took me three days to work up the courage to send a “wink” or whatever it is, to a few guys who’s profiles had intrigued me. It took another day for me to read the messages two of them sent back. One of them almost sent me running far, far away from internet dating. I may not have had a lot of sexual experience, but I was pretty sure that even if I did, I’d still draw the line at a threesome with his pig, Leroy.

The second guy though, he was pretty nice. We chatted for a while, until it became clear that we genuinely didn’t have much in common besides ranching. It was a little disheartening. It was late and I was about to close down my computer, but my eyes kept straying to my profile picture.

It was of Pepper and me as we executed an award winning jump. We were slightly blurry, and my face was somewhat obscured by my hat. But, if anyone looked close enough, they would recognize the stadium. It was from my first Olympics. I stared at it, reliving the moment in my head. I told myself to let it go every day, but the memories kept drawing me back in.

A loud ping startled me and I practically jumped out of my seat. Glancing at my computer, I saw a little envelope blinking and realized that I’d received a new message.

LOCKEdheart34.

It was from the third man I’d sent a wink to. His profile had been cute and funny, a little self-deprecating, but still exuding confidence. His picture was of him and a little girl, perhaps four or five, sitting on a horse, their heads thrown back in laughter.

He’d marked the box that said he didn’t have kids, but his bio mentioned having a younger sister. The picture was sweet and there was something comforting, almost . . . familiar about it. I figured it was the obvious love he had for the little girl. Cue singing ovaries.

I took a deep breath and clicked on the little envelope.

LOCKEdheart34 to JumpinGinger8:

Hello,

I’m honestly not sure how this is supposed to go.  I didn’t set this up for myself, so I’m flying blind. You sent a wink-thing and I’m supposed to wink back or send a message, right? Well, I’ve never been particularly good at winking. I’m told it doesn’t come off as flirty when it’s accompanied by my ever-present scowl.

Well, now I’ve gone and spilled my secret. I’m a pretty grumpy guy, or so my sister likes to constantly tell me. She thinks the cure is a date, so I’m looking to see if someone is up for the challenge.

Reading through your profile, I got the sense that we would have a lot to talk about. I’m about to spill another secret, are you ready? I don’t talk much. Perhaps that’s why this seemed like a decent idea once I really thought about it. If you get to know me first, maybe the rough and gruff exterior won’t scare you away if we ever have the chance to meet.

In a truly shocking moment, I see I’ve written more to you than I’ve probably said out loud for a week.

I think I’ve rambled on a decently embarrassing amount so I’m going to hit send before I talk myself out of it. Hopefully, you’ll find this charming and respond.

J

I giggled my way through the letter, swooning at his obviously sweet disposition. Was this guy for real? I had to find out. My fingers trembled a little as I brought up the box to reply. I had no clue what to say.

I’d gotten as far as typing “Hi” when my computer pinged with a different chime. My inbox had no new messages though and I realized it was the live messenger. It was him. Should I answer? Or was this the first indication that he was going to go single, white, female on me at some point?

My finger hovered over the accept button. Don’t be a baby, Lia. Right. Okay. Accept.

LOCKEdheart34: At the risk of exposing hidden stalker tendencies I didn’t know I had . . . I saw you were online and thought maybe you might be having trouble sleeping too. Want some company? (Virtual of course)

I chuckled and started typing.

JumpinGinger8: Why not? I suppose the worst that could happen is you’ll bore me to sleep.

LOCKEdheart34: LOL. And the best?

JumpinGinger8: A girl needs to keep some mystery about her. But, I promise to tell you if the best ever happens. ;)

LOCKEdheart34: Why, Miss JumpinGinger8, were you flirting with me? Moving kind of fast aren’t you?

JumpinGinger8: Says the stalker.

LOCKEdheart34: Well played.

JumpinGinger8: *Bows* Why thank you.

LOCKEdheart34: What are you up to tonight? (Let me clarify that this was asked in the least pervy tone imaginable.)

JumpinGinger8: I guess I’ll have to give you a non-pervy answer then.

LOCKEdheart34: Wait! I give you full permission to be as depraved as you want.

JumpinGinger8: Good to know.

LOCKEdheart34: ...???

JumpinGinger8: I’m curled up in flannel pajamas, reading a biography of Abraham Lincoln.

LOCKEdheart34: Whoa. I take it back. You’re going to have to tone down the sexy talk.

For the first time in months, I found myself laughing. Truly laughing. Maybe there was something to this after all. We chatted about nothing and everything for the next several hours. Discussing favorite foods, movies, and books. As well as arguing over which was the greatest Clint Eastwood movie ever. He told me more about his baby sister, who sounded absolutely adorable and I shared a little bit about my youth with my grandpa. When I finally yawned and looked at the clock, I groaned, realizing I needed to be up for chores in three hours.

I started to type again, to ask for another chatting “date,” but at the last second, I froze. What if he was just being nice all this time? I’d be putting him on the spot and he might agree so he wouldn’t hurt my feelings.

Good grief, Lia. Since when are you such a pansy? Good question. Just then, an unwelcome memory of my last biting encounter with James popped into my head. I shook my head like a wet dog, hoping to toss out all thoughts of my asshole neighbor.

Before I could second guess, I hit send on my message. His Yes popped up so fast, I wondered if he’d actually read the text. A wide, giddy grin split my face.

We agreed to meet up in cyberspace again the next night.

LOCKEdheart34: Am I allowed to wish you sweet dreams and hope they are of me?

JumpinGinger8: Yes. And as far as goodnights go, I’m giving it a solid 8.5.

LOCKEdheart34: 8.5 huh? Give me a hint, does a dirtier comment tip the scale up or down?”

JumpinGinger8: Wouldn’t you like to know?

LOCKEdheart34: LOL. Good night sweet JumpinGinger8.

JumpinGinger8: Sweet dreams.

I went to bed with a bright spark of hope. Perhaps this Ranchers Only thing would work out after all. Helena was going to be impossible when she found out. Worth it. Closing my eyes, I tried to conjure up what my perfect man would look like and fell asleep.

He had blonde hair, deep blue eyes, a tall, muscular body, and a perpetual scowl.

***

I punched my stupid pillow, shifted, then tossed it across the room in frustration. I couldn’t get comfortable enough to fall back asleep, so I gave in and got up to take a hot shower.

This had to stop. I’d been getting to know LOCKEdheart34, or “J,” as he’d taken to calling himself, while I was “L,” for three weeks. We chatted almost every night and yet, when I went to bed, my dreams were filled with erotic fantasies about the grouchy, self-centered jackass one ranch over.

So far, J seemed like a pretty great guy. He was easy to open up to and eventually, I ended up telling him the vague version of my incident at the last Olympics and about my sorrow over my family keeping my grandfather’s illness from me. I knew that it was technically too much information, all he would have to do is google my sport and the last Olympics to find out who I was. But, I decided to bet on him not being a serial killer.

He told me about the death of his parents and how he’d been running his ranch on his own since he was a barely legal adult. He was sarcastically funny, but sometimes he would say the sweetest things. What was the matter with me???

I thought maybe if I met J, it would wipe the other guy from my head. After all, it’s hard to fantasize about someone if you don’t know what they look like. So, during out last chat, I spent the whole time working up the nerve to ask him to meet me in person. He seemed enthusiastic about the idea. At least, that’s what I interpreted. It was hard to gauge over the internet. This is why the new generation had no people skills...

I’d called Helena to tell her the details and get some advice, but she didn’t answer. I left a voicemail, making it very clear that since she was the one who started this whole thing, it was only right that she be available for me to freak out about it 24/7.

After getting ready for the day, I padded into the kitchen for a cup of coffee and a granola bar. The certified letter from the bank still sat on the counter, mocking me. I’d managed to convince them to give me thirty days to come current on the mortgage. I’d managed to sell a couple of show horses, but without new clients coming in, it was impossible to come up with the money. People seemed to assume that I was a dabbling in the training arena, without the actual skills to do more than ride. I didn’t have the time to cultivate their trust. With only a week left, I was slowly trying to accept that I was going to be forced to sell Red Hill Ranch.

At least I had my date with J to keep my mind off of it for one evening. Downing the rest of my drink, I put the mug in the sink and headed out to the stables to start my morning chores.

Even keeping busy with the ranch, my nerves were becoming more and more frayed. Helena still hadn’t returned my call, and I’d decided to officially replace her with Pepper as my best friend.

Rose came by after her morning summer school class and we went for a ride. It helped to calm me and I ended up spilling out the whole story of the dating site and J.

“Ranchersonly.com?” she clarified with a laugh.

I nodded and shrugged with a sheepish smile. “I know it sounds ridiculous.”

“No, no,” she corrected. “I only laughed because of the coincidence. I signed—I mean I helped a friend sign up for the same site.

That made me feel marginally better. “Has she had any luck?”

“Um.” Rose’s face looked funny for a second, but it was quickly replaced by a sunny smile. “They honestly haven’t shared much with me, but it seems like they may have met someone special.” We rode in silence for a few more minutes. “Oh!” Rose exclaimed, practically bouncing in her saddle. “Can I help you get ready? Please?” Her enthusiasm was contagious and I couldn’t turn her down.

We decided on a sleeveless, short, blue jersey dress that clung to my curves and black, strappy sandals.

Hey, don’t assume just because we are ranchers it automatically meant jeans, plaid, boots, and a honkey tonk. I cleaned up good.

The hour long drive to East Wellsville was somewhat soothing, and when I arrived at the little Italian place where we were meeting, I felt more confident. I’d told J I’d be wearing a blue dress so that he would recognize me. His suggestion that we each bring a book with a rose in it had made me laugh, it was just too corny.

As I approached the restaurant, a man stepped out to hold the door open for me. I was sliding past him when I looked up to tell him thank you and was struck speechless by the most beautiful blue eyes in the world. Eyes I dreamed about frequently. Well, shit. What were the freaking odds?

“What are you doing here?” I asked apprehensively.

He smiled, and my knees went weak. I’d never seen it before and holy smokes, it was captivating. I wanted to pout and stomp my foot, it wasn’t fair that he became even sexier. A little burn took up residence in my chest as I wondered about the woman he was there on a date with. Why could she inspire that kind of smile and I couldn’t. I sighed at my ridiculous flare of jealousy.

J. Think about J.

“I’m your date, Lia,” he explained with a whole lot more calm than I was feeling. Nope. I was freaking the fuck out.

It wasn’t possible. These two men aren’t anything alike. But . . . J. LOCKEdheart34. James Locke. Good grief. How had I not seen it earlier?

“You knew?” Shaking my head in disbelief, I backed up until I bumped into a wall.

He advanced on me slowly, and I started to panic with no away to escape. “Not at first,” he admitted. “I figured it out a week or so after our first chat.”

Two damn weeks? “Why didn’t you say anything? Why keep up the pretense? Do you hate me that much that you would play with my emotions like this?”

His expression looked genuinely surprised at my questions. He cupped my face gently face and his blue eyes bored into me. “Just the opposite, baby. I wanted a second chance with you, and I knew I wouldn’t get it in person. I certainly don’t deserve it, but I took it all the same.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over mine.

A warning began flashing in my mind. Danger. Danger. Ovary meltdown imminent.

“Can you forgive me for being such an asshole all these years? Will you give me another chance?” His voice rang with sincerity and hope. It had the potential to be the stupidest choice I’d ever make, but I nodded in agreement.