“Focus, Cass, focus,” she told herself. Her black cat, Gateau, took this as an invitation to play and began winding himself between her legs as she moved between counters, tripping her.

“Gateau!” Cass’s voice was loud and stern in the empty bakery. It revealed the truth about how she was really feeling: nervous. Because once she was finished getting these boules into the proofing bowls, Cass had to handle something that had been hanging over her head for a month now. Something that was making her want to skip town altogether, even during her favorite time of year. It didn’t help that earlier that day she had developed a nagging headache. Cass dropped a second ball of dough into its basket. She was about to start the third ball when a tap at the window startled her.

It was Faye Christie, one of her favorite customers, with her grandson, Jake. Jake had moved from Colorado to Starlight Peak when Faye broke her ankle, back in September, and taken a job with the fire department as the newest firefighter.

She wiped her floury hands on her apron and went to unlock the door. A rush of cold air greeted her as she ushered Jake and Faye into the warmth of the bakery.

“Hey, Cass,” Jake said, taking off his toque to shake away the fine dusting of snow and flashing her an apologetic smile. “Gran had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon and I told her we’d missed the boat and we’d have to go somewhere else, but . . .”

Faye, who was eighty-seven and had barely slowed down in recent years, even when she’d broken her ankle, interrupted her grandson, “And I said, you know as well as I do Cassie will be in there, working away, like she always is and she’d probably welcome a little break.” She raised an eyebrow. “I think you should be on that Cabo holiday, not your parents.”

Cass smiled, already packing up the remaining lemon bars that were Faye’s favorite. The older woman often came to the bakery in the late afternoon, which was a less busy time and sometimes gave Cass a chance to share a coffee and a chat with Faye while Jake ran errands. “You know I can’t leave the bakery at this time of year.”

“You said that in the spring. And, in the summer. I’m just saying, there’s more to life than work, young lady.”

Cass passed the box across the counter. “On the house,” she said, hoping that would effectively change the subject. She waved a hand as Faye tried to give her cash. “You’re actually saving these lemon bars from the garbage, Faye. So, thank you.”

“Thanks, Cassie,” Faye said. “You’re a doll.” Then she turned to Jake, who had taken the box from Cass, and clucked at him. “Be careful there, young man. You know what I’m like if I don’t get one of Cassie’s lemon bars each day.”

Jake good-naturedly rolled his eyes as he tried not to smile. “I do, Gran. But let’s get out of Cass’s hair, okay?”