My husband is old enough to be my dad – family disapproved but we’re soulmates

Jotting down his order of veal cutlets on my notepad, I smiled at my customer and asked: ‘Can I get you anything else?’

‘You could find me a wife,’ he joked.

‘I’ll find you a wife if you find me a cowboy,’ I grinned back. Growing up on a sheep farm in the mountains, I always dreamed I’d marry a guy in a Stetson hat and Wrangler jeans.

But as soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted them. It was 2009, I was 22 and waiting tables at a local diner called Smitty’s Family Restaurant.

Sure, my customer was handsome, with a button-down shirt and cowboy boots, but his laughter lines and salt-and-pepper hair told me he was old enough to be my father.

Of course he turned out to be a cowboy – a bareback rider and bull rider no less. He introduced himself as Carman and invited me to visit his ranch sometime for a riding lesson.

Despite my rural upbringing, I’d never ridden a horse, although I loved going to rodeos and watching the trick-riders – women who performed dangerous acrobatics from the backs of galloping horses.

Over the next couple of months Carman taught me how to ride, and my heart fluttered every time his hand came to rest on my leg as he stood beside me while I was in the saddle.

‘You’re a natural!’ he told me. ‘You’re good enough to be a trick-rider already.’ He introduced me to an instructor and I started training.

Meanwhile, my feelings for Carman were growing. At 25 years my senior he was mature and gentlemanly – while the guys my own age were all a bunch of jerks.

I started doing my hair and make-up before going to the barn, spraying on perfume even though I was going to be shoveling manure.

I had a feeling he liked me too. He’d made a few comments about how pretty I looked and seemed to give me more attention than his other riding students.

In December 2009 we were at a rodeo together when I decided to make a cheeky bet.

‘If that rider wins the tournament, I’ll be your girlfriend,’ I told Carman, half-joking.

When the rider in question was crowned champion, Carman started jumping up and down and cheering. ‘I guess that makes it official,’ he grinned.

We dated for a week and Carman treated me like a princess. I got goose-bumps when we shared our first kiss one night in his truck.

But my friends thought I was mad.

‘Estelle what are you doing? He’s so old? It’s really creepy,’ they told me.

Embarrassed, I called things off and avoided Carman’s barn. I didn’t say anything about him being too old for me because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He was heartbroken and for a while we had no contact.

I tried to forget about him – but that cowboy had got under my skin. 

When we bumped into each other at another rodeo in April 2010, I saw my chance and ran over to him.

‘Life’s too short, I want to be with you,’ I told him.

Later that night, over root beers and a two-step dance in a downtown bar in Calgary, I agreed to be his girlfriend – for real.

It was time to stop caring what other people thought and recognise we were falling in love.

Of course Carman’s buddies all wanted to know what his secret was.

‘How did you manage to get such a young, beautiful woman?’ they marveled.

But my family and friends were less supportive. In 2010 I tragically lost my wonderful mum to cancer, and at her funeral my family lost no time telling me what they thought.

‘He’s too old for you,’ they warned.

It was time to stand up for myself. ‘If you can’t accept this then perhaps you should stay away from us for a while,’ I told them.

Carman and I went from strength-to-strength. He’d been married twice before and had four kids, so I knew he wouldn’t risk getting into another serious relationship unless he was sure about it. 

In August 2010 we were riding together in the Rocky Mountains when he climbed off his horse, pulled a ring from his jeans pocket and got down on one knee in the dust.

‘Of course I’ll marry you!’ I grinned, leaning down from the saddle to give him a kiss.

Thankfully my family had finally come around, and before our wedding my dad told me: ‘Age is just a number. If this man makes you happy and you can have a few good years with someone you love, that’s all that matters.’

On our wedding day on 31 August 2013, I wore a flowing white dress and tiara, feeling every inch the princess, while my cowboy Carman looked so handsome in his suit and Stetson.

Tears of joy glistened in Carman’s eyes as we said our vows, before sharing a kiss in the meadows and riding off into the sunset.

In the years since we’ve proved our doubters wrong. Carman retired from bull riding but I stepped into his cowboy boots to become a professional trick-rider on my palomino mare Switch.

We know our age gap might become more of a challenge as the years pass. Carman’s 61 now, but this summer, as we celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary, we’re stronger than ever. Carman is mature, patient and treats me like a queen.

I got my cowboy and he got his wife – wild horses couldn’t drag me away.

As told to Jade Beecroft.

MORE : Cowboy chases cow through lanes of traffic on motorway

MORE : Adorable three-year-old cowboy loves helping out on the family farm

MORE : The perfect age gap if you want a relationship to last, according to experts