Page 12 of Follow My Heart

“I’ll be riding in no time.”

I hoped so. It would be easier for her to get around the neighborhood and meet new people. I’d noticed that a lot of the kids used bikes here. It was an easy way to get around. And I wanted her to like it here, to fit in, and hopefully find some friends. It would make everything easier.

I’d love for her to live with me, but I didn’t hold out hope that it would happen. As the mother, Stacy was confident that she’d get Faith and whatever custody arrangement she wanted in the divorce.

I watched Faith go down the hill until the sun was starting to set. This was my favorite time of the day. “You about ready to head back?”

“I’m starving. Can you push my bike?” She pushed it toward me.

I wanted to help her. I always wanted to take care of her, but I was conscious that I needed to encourage her to do more things for herself. If Stacy was right, and Faith was needier around me than her, it was even more important. “It’s your bike. You can take it back.”

Faith groaned but didn’t argue with me. I took that as a win.

At home, I threw together a sandwich and fruit for both of us. I’d need to learn to cook more things now that I was single. When I was growing up, Mom, then Daphne, did all the cooking. In the interim, my older brothers helped out. Then I met Stacy in college, and we moved in together during our senior year. I never had a reason to learn.

“We should learn to cook. Maybe we can take some classes.”

“Really?” Faith asked. “I offer to help Mom, but she won’t let me.”

That made me pause. “I didn’t know you were interested in learning to cook.”

“We had a class in school, and I liked it. It was only five weeks long though, and we didn’t get to cook much, just brownies and pizza.”

I grinned. “I think we can do better than that, don’t you?”

Faith smiled, and I took that as a win too. Maybe I just needed to show her what Stacy wouldn’t in order to endear her to me. Or better yet, listen to Faith and what she wanted. Then find a way to give it to her.

Maybe that was the issue all along. Stacy didn’t want to meet our needs. She was only concerned with her own. If ours weren’t convenient, they were stifled or dismissed. I didn’t want that for my daughter.

I vowed to do better with Faith. She was my priority. I shouldn’t be thinking about sunny ice-cream shop owners who took care of their grandfathers.

CHAPTER 4

VIOLET

The next few days, I was busy at work, planning holiday flavors, and trying not to think about a certain sexy single dad.

Each time I got out my note pad to write my plans for the next few months, my mind drifted to the moment I saw Ryder walking alongside his daughter while she tried and failed to stay upright on her bike.

Something about Faith called out to me. When I saw her struggling and the embarrassed pink tinge on her cheeks, I wanted to help her.

I wanted to know if she’d kept practicing, if she was able to ride a bike on a level surface, but I didn’t have Ryder’s number, and it was none of my business.

I kept reminding myself that Ryder was coming off a divorce or maybe even still married, and I didn’t have any business wanting him.

I forced myself to focus. I wrote October, November, and December along the top of my sheet of paper, then lines for columns. I jotted customer favorites for the months—November: pumpkin and apple pie. Then there were so many possibilities for December: gingerbread, peppermint, hot chocolate. I was playing with the idea of something green I could name Grinch or even something blue that was cool and frosty I could name Snow Cream. But the exact flavors hadn’t come to me yet.

For October, my favorite was s’mores. It consisted of chocolate ice cream with a million marshmallows and graham cracker crumbs. I waited until the store was empty to sample a small scoop for myself. I couldn’t resist.

I was constantly working on new ideas, trying to come up with flavors the customers wouldn’t expect. I wanted my shop to stand out from the others on Main Street. My store wasn’t on Main. Instead, I’d chosen a spot in the line of shops that led to the harbor—the main draw in Annapolis.

The door opened, the bell tinkling. I smoothed my pony tail and washed my hands. “Welcome to Sweet Scoops.”

“Violet,” a familiar deep voice called to me.

I turned my head to find Ryder and Faith. They stood on the other side of the glass case, Faith’s gaze on the many tubs of ice cream. Her father stood slightly behind her with a sheepish look on his face. “Faith wanted ice cream.”

I moved closer, my nerves kicking in. “I’m glad you chose my shop. I know there are many options downtown.”

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