been a mainstay at soccer games or Friday night football. On a farm there was always something to do, fix or tend. Running kids to games had fallen to his mother.
That brought to mind Piper that afternoon, hanging over the tractor, trying to put big, heavy things right when she should have been spraying crops or turning cut hay. Guilt speared him for not taking the time to help. He knew farm equipment. And his size made tractor parts a whole lot easier to handle, although she’d probably jab him in the solar plexus if he suggested such a thing. And she’d done all right on her own to this point, so why was he torturing himself about it?
Kids of all ages dashed here and there. Some sported baseball attire. Others were dressed in soccer gear. Parents sat or stood in small circles across the wide yard, watching the antics with small-town comfort. “I wonder if they’ve got Parkerhouse cherry?”
Marty’s hopeful expression made Zach wince inside. Whatever this cherry thing was, he was pretty sure the inviting ice cream window was about to disappoint his father. Frankly, Zach wasn’t sure how many more downturns his father could handle, which was exactly why he’d taken emergency leave for the next couple of weeks. Maybe just having Zach around would help Marty through the worst of this adjustment period.
The short lines moved quickly. Lights lit up the parking area, while the scattered picnic tables set beneath sprawling farmyard trees remained more shadowed. When they got to the front of the line, Zach was surprised to see Piper, Lucia and the same college girl he’d seen yesterday all inside the window. “You work here at night?”
The sound of his voice got her attention, and unless Zach had lost his policing skills in the twelve hours he’d been off duty, she looked happy to see him. Excited, even.
Which made two of them.
Her smile inspired his, but he felt a moment of abject fear when Lucia asked, “What can we get for you, gentlemen?” Zach dreaded the thought of Marty’s disappointment over something as simple as ice cream.
“You got Parkerhouse?”
Lucia’s quiet frown said they didn’t. Zach was ready to point out the long list of flavors they did have, but Piper’s voice interrupted him. “Sir, do you like amaretto-based Parkerhouse or vanilla?”
Marty’s eyes lit up. “The almond stuff.”
She threw him a smile, winked and scooped a generous serving onto a cold stone set off to her left. Taking a tong’s worth of cherries with just a little juice, she worked the ice cream between two flat paddles for about thirty seconds. She arched a glance back toward Marty. “Did you say cone or dish?”
“I didn’t,” he replied, the more appreciative tone in his voice making Zach breathe easier. “A cone,” he decided. “One of those.” He pointed to the waffle cones and Piper’s smile said she approved.
“These waffle cones are the best,” she told him as she plied the ice cream mix into the cone. “In my humble opinion...”
Lucia’s cough said Piper’s opinions might not be as humble as she thought. Her timing deepened Marty’s smile, which then eased some of Zach’s concern.
“...the cone makes the treat,” Piper declared. She sent Marty an arch look. “Too soft, too sweet, too well-done.” She shrugged narrow shoulders clad in a T-shirt beneath the ice cream apron. “The best ice cream deserves a solid cone.”
“I concur.” Marty took a taste of the cone she handed him. She watched, waiting, clearly hoping she’d pleased him, and in that moment Zach discovered more to like about her. Patience in an impatient world. Concern, as if Marty’s satisfaction mattered. And a hinted joy as if she loved the task at hand, taking care of business after working in hot fields and barns all day.
“Delicious. And an almost perfect balance of cherries to ice cream.” Marty smiled at her, and Zach was pretty sure that was the first genuine smile he’d seen since bringing his father home postsurgery five days before, even though the smile was accompanied by veiled criticism with the word almost.
Zach had lived with those “almosts” for a long time. Almost smart enough, almost good enough, almost strong enough...
But Piper just laughed out loud. “You come back tomorrow or whenever and I’ll add more, okay? Although the secret to a perfect Parkerhouse cherry ice cream—” she shortened the distance between them by leaning out the window. Marty bent closer “—is to make the palate long for that next bite of fruit. Too much and the texture is messed up. It’s all about ratio, but you come back,” she repeated, “and I’ll use more cherries. Deal?”
“Deal.” Marty confirmed the pact with a brisk nod.
“Zach. What can I get for you?” She turned her attention his way while Lucia and the girl handled two other customers.
“Vanilla.”
She almost burst out laughing, but held it in with effort. “You’re serious? That’s it? With thirty-one flavors at your disposal?”
“I’m very serious about my ice cream, Piper. Why taint a perfect blend with nonessential additives?”
“Oh, brother.” Skeptical, she made a face, reached for a cone, then paused. “Clearly I’m forgetting myself when you’re around. Or maybe your adorable father has me flustered. Cone or dish?”
Adorable? Marty Harrison? Industrious, ambitious, driven, forceful, yes, Zach reasoned mentally.
But nothing about the hard-core farmer could be labeled adorable. Could it? “First, I like that I fluster you. Second, you’ve made my father’s night and that makes me grateful beyond words. Third, I’d like the same kind of cone my dad has because you did a great sales job.”
She angled him a saucy “I do what I can” kind of smile.
“And fourth, does Luke Campbell come around to bring you animal gifts on a regular basis?”
* * *
Piper’s hand paused.
So did her heart.
And when it started again, she knew exactly what he was asking, and why all she wanted to do was flirt right back with him.
But her emotional scars stopped her.
Intellectually, she knew her former fiancé’s misdeeds had nothing to do with the broad-shouldered trooper at her ice cream window, but family embarrassment had dogged Piper for over a decade. She couldn’t―wouldn’t―put herself in the hot seat again. When she put cops in the “no dating” category, she’d meant it. But Zach didn’t know that, and she could simply let his assumption about Luke ride. Easier on both of them.
And so she smiled softly and said, “Luke’s a great guy, isn’t he?”
Zach’s gaze scanned her face. His eyes took in her easy expression, her gentle smile, and she let him read what she wanted him to see. Let him think she was off-limits. Because, despite the fact that Luke was just a good friend who lived on the opposite side of Kirkwood Lake, she was okay having Zach consider her off the market because she utterly refused to be fooled by a cop ever again. No matter how nicely he smiled.
Chapter
