The sisters stood and watched for a moment as the assembly line progressed: Walter would pull a sourdough boule out of a proofing basket, Miguel would knead the dried fruit and nuts into it, and Jake would carry it to the oven.

“Oh my,” Cass murmured. “I could watch this for hours.”

“Same,” Charlie said. “It’s like . . . the best television show in the world.”

Walter looked up and saw them. He waved at Charlie and Cass.

“Welcome back, you two! We’re all good here. How many loaves to go, guys?”

“Maybe two dozen?” Jake answered.

“Coffee me,” Miguel said, and without missing a beat, Walter filled his coffee cup and handed it over. Miguel gulped the coffee like it was water.

“We’ve been up all night,” Walter explained. “Having the first-ever Woodburn Breads Starlight Loaves Marathon. And, I hope you don’t mind”—he pointed at the laptop sitting on the granite worktop—“but I decided to turn it into a Live.Li broadcast. It’s going well. So far we have . . .” He leaned forward and peered at the screen. “Thirty thousand viewers.”

“Thirty thousand? Walter! There aren’t even three thousand people living in Starlight Peak.”

“Yeah, I think a lot of our viewers are in L.A.” A series of bings emitted from the screen, and Walter’s eyes roved over it. “Yep. All city folk. And they are loving this.” He typed a comment, then turned back to Charlie and said more quietly. “How’s Cass? Do you need to get her upstairs?”

Cass was standing rooted to the floor, a dreamy smile on her face—directed at Miguel. He was grinning back at her, flashing some extremely endearing dimples. “Permission to leave assembly line for ten seconds, boss?” Miguel said to Walter.

“Granted,” Walter said, but he spun the laptop around and the camera followed Miguel as he crossed the bakery floor in two strides and had Cass in his arms. “Ten, nine, eight . . .” Miguel kissed Cass quickly, then pulled away. “You’re okay? Really okay? I mean, you look okay—better than okay, you look great. But you’re really fine?”

“I’m fantastic,” Cass said. “I’m better than I’ve ever been. And I want to help. Hand me an apron?”

“No way,” Miguel said. “I’ve been down this road with you two before.” He twinkled his charming smile at Charlie, then pulled a stool up to the counter and said, “You, sit. No working for you today. Charlie, on the other hand . . .” He grabbed an apron and threw it her way. “I’m pretty sure our viewers would get quite excited about a cameo appearance from the famous Charlie Goodwin.”

A cacophony of bings from the laptop in response indicated this was true.

Charlie laughed and put it on, then stepped into the sight lines of the camera. “Hey, everyone,” she said. “Thrilled to be here at the first-ever Woodburn Breads Starlight Loaves Marathon. Seems I’m a bit late to the party—only two dozen loaves left to bake? These guys must have been seriously busy last night!” At this moment, Jake slipped past her and his arm brushed hers. She lost her train of thought as he started working alongside her, but managed to keep talking. When she was done, she looked at him sidelong. “Hi,” she managed, hoping she wasn’t imagining that there was still chemistry between them—that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t all over between them.