Page 23 of Follow My Heart

I looked at both of their hopeful faces, and I couldn’t say no. “Okay. Pizza sounds great right about now.”

I was so pleased with how Berger Cookie came out; I added it to the list of flavors offered on the chalk board before we headed out.

“If I worked here, I’d eat all the ice cream,” Faith said as we walked to her dad’s truck.

I shared an amused look with Ryder. “That’s a challenge for sure.”

Once we were settled in the cab, Ryder walked around the hood, and Faith said, “That was fun. Thank you for letting us make ice cream.”

I turned slightly in my seat so I could see her. “You’re welcome any time.”

Ryder climbed inside, looking from me to Faith. “What are you two conspiring about? Sugar fights in my house?”

I grinned. “No, but that’s a great idea. We should plan an ambush. What do you think, Faith?”

“I think I don’t need two girls ganging up on me. It’s bad enough that this one gets whatever she wants.” Ryder threw a thumb over his shoulder as he backed up.

“I do not.”

Ryder gave her a look in the rearview mirror before pulling out into traffic. After a beat, he said to me, “It seems like you enjoy your job.”

“I love creating new things and even more when I see how happy it makes people. Even if no one eats it, it’s that smile when they see something, like Fruit Loop ice cream. It’s something they don’t expect.”

“You have unique flavors, and I loved getting an inside view of how you create them.”

“My grandmother bought me an ice cream maker for my birthday when I was ten. It was a toy more than anything, but I was hooked. I played with different ingredients. None of them were edible. But I got better as the year went on, and Grandma got me a real one the next year.” She’d understood my passion in a way my parents hadn’t.

“Thank you for letting us play with your ice cream maker. It was a treat.” Ryder glanced over at me with a grin.

“I’m sure it’s not as exciting as your job.”

Ryder sobered. “My job can be fast-paced and exciting, but it’s also stressful. Then other times, it’s boring.”

“It must be. Otherwise he’d talk about it,” Faith grumbled from the back seat.

“You know I can’t talk about my job,” Ryder said to Faith.

It must be hard to relate to his daughter when he couldn’t share a large part of his life with her. It was understandable for adults, but a child might not get it. Especially when it was his job that moved him away from her. It put Ryder in a difficult situation.

We fell silent until we reached the pizza place in town. Ryder found street parking, and we walked to the small restaurant on Main Street.

Inside, the hostess directed us to a booth in the back, near the arcade games. Ryder handed Faith change so she could play while we ordered.

“Half cheese, half pepperoni?” Ryder asked me.

“Sounds good.” I didn’t care what we ate. I just wanted to spend more time with Ryder and Faith.

After the waitress took our order and menus, silence fell over the table. Ryder kept one eye on Faith who was playing a game, and there was a kid on the console next to her, talking to her.

When Ryder returned his attention to me, he said, “Thanks for allowing us to see what you do today. It was neat.”

“I make ice cream.” I waved a hand in his direction. “You do whatever it is you do—protect the world.”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that. But it doesn’t make what you do any less important. You make people happy. They come to the shop to celebrate a day touring the town, or a win.”

“It feels good.”

Ryder reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “That’s why we do what we do. Even though the purposes of our jobs are vastly different.”

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