Page 105 of Forbidden Flame

“That’s good,” I said to Dad, and then to Izzy, “I bet you were tired from the long plane ride.”

Her tongue protruded from her mouth, a testament to her concentration on the picture she was coloring on the back of the children’s menu.

“Are you ready for your ski lesson this morning?” I asked her.

She nodded as she continued coloring. “Uh-huh.”

“It sounds like Xander is the one leading her lesson this morning. Eli said he was good with kids.”

“She’ll be just fine and flying down the black diamonds in no time.”

Izzy paused at that. “Aren’t those the hard ones?”

“Yes,” I said with a smile.

“I don’t want to do a black diamond.”

“We’re starting on the bunny slope and can stay there as long as you need to. Don’t let Grandpa push you onto the mountain.”

“We always pushed you guys,” Dad said.

“You had five boys. You probably didn’t need to push them.”

Dad shook his head with a chuckle. “You’re probably right about that. And you girls went along with it. Fiona was a competitive little thing, always trying to keep up with her brothers. They gave me my gray hairs. You were always more comfortable in the kitchen, cooking and baking.”

“Am I your favorite then?” I teased.

He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “You know I don’t have a favorite. But you were the sunshine I looked forward to seeing when I came home.”

“Aw. Thanks, Dad.” He wasn’t overtly demonstrative, and that was as emotional as he ever got. I let his words warm my heart.

Izzy blinked up at me. “You’re the sunshine?”

“He just means that he was happy to see me when he came home.”

“Am I your sunshine, Grandpa?” Izzy asked.

“You betcha.”

The food came then, Dad having ordered my favorite breakfast for me. We dug into our food, talking about the trip and the work we’d need to do to get the farm ready for opening when we returned home.

I helped with the farm in the sense I was prepared to pitch in when necessary. But my pie orders came first. As soon as I got home, I’d be busy fulfilling Thanksgiving orders.

When we were waiting for the check, Izzy was scrolling through the pictures on my phone, and Dad said, “You know your mother would be proud of you.”

My eyes immediately teared up. “You think so?”

“You worked hard to perfect your crust recipe, and you’re running a successful business.”

“Well, I don’t know about that—” It was too much.

He rarely talked about Mom, then to say she’d be proud of me?

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve worked hard, and your pies speak for themselves. It’s just a matter of time before your business takes off in a big way.”

I was overcome with emotion, the feeling expanding like a balloon in my chest. “Thanks, Dad.”

After Dad paid the bill, he went back to his room to watch some TV, and we headed to our room to get ready for Izzy’s lesson. I was pleased to see that Cole had made my bed. Not that Izzy would know that he slept over, but it made me feel more put together.

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