Sydney’s rosy cheeks—from the heat?—stretched with her grin. “No way. Maggie told me pies go for sixteen dollars. With the amount of anxiety I put into this thing, I’m getting every penny I can out of it. Even if I have to beg some poor market-goer to buy it.”

“Eighteen dollars,” Lilian interjected from across the room. “We’re upping prices this year.”

“You won’t have to beg.” Neil knew it for a fact. Because the blueberry pie looked delicious. And because she looked . . .

Never mind how she looks.

He had no business whatsoever noticing the light dusting of freckles on her cheeks or the way that green sweater she wore under her apron turned her eyes from mossy to almost jade. Certainly shouldn’t be fighting the urge to brush the flour not only from her forehead but also, he noted now that she stood closer, from her hair too.

She turned away, carefully placing the pie on the counter and pulling off her oven mitts. No, she wouldn’t have any trouble at all selling that thing.

“Stop staring at Sydney and carry that box outside, will you?” Lilian elbowed his side. When had she sidled up to him?

“I wasn’t—”

“On second thought, I’ll finish loading the car. Go clean up. You smell like a barn.”

“I don’t . . .” He probably did. He’d spent most of the day repairing the loft. Had the dirt and sawdust clinging to his flannel shirt to prove it.

Lilian hoisted the crate away from him and bustled out the back door. Had Sydney heard her comment about staring?

Suddenly, he couldn’t get out of this hot kitchen fast enough. But when he turned, Maggie blocked his path. She leaned in and up, patted his cheek with one hand as she’d done so many times before. “There’s a Tupperware container in the fridge with two big slices for you. Make sure to grab it before you leave in case Lilian doesn’t give you a break tonight.”

He smiled down at her. “You’re too good to me, Maggie Muir. Always looking out for me.”

“Always, Neil. That’s what love does.” She patted his cheek once more and stepped back.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us tonight? Everyone would love to see you.”

He’d known there wasn’t much point in asking. Maggie hadn’t come to the market in years. But foolish impulse had pushed the question out.

And foolish anticipation awaited her answer. Maybe this fall would be different. She’d been so lively these past few days. So happy with Sydney here.