Saturday brought a surprising burst of sunshine, the kind that made Main Street glow with possibility. Lena opened the bakery early, tying her apron with a renewed sense of purpose. Word of the petition had spread, and the trickle of support was becoming a steady stream.
The bell over the door jingled nearly nonstop. Customers came in not just for muffins and croissants, but to sign their names, to offer encouragement, to say things like, "Don't let them tear this down, Lena."
By noon, the petition had over 150 signatures.
"Not bad for a girl who used to be terrified of confrontation," Ava teased as she handed a pen to another supporter.
"I'm still terrified," Lena said. "I'm just too busy to dwell on it."
Midday, Walker showed up with coffee and a folder under one arm. He looked every bit the CEO—clean-cut, crisp blue shirt, focused expression—but when his eyes found hers, he softened.
"I come bearing caffeine and good news," he said, handing her the cup.
"I'll take both."
They sat at a corner table while Ava handled the counter. Walker flipped open the folder and showed her a revised board memo.
"I spoke to my father's old attorney," he said. "There's a clause in the company charter that gives the acting CEO temporary authority to halt local acquisitions if they're found to damage community partnerships."
Lena blinked. "You can do that?"
"I can do it for thirty days. That gives us time."
She let out a breath. "That could change everything."
Walker smiled. "I'm starting to see why my dad loved small towns. They're hard to bulldoze."
As they spoke, the door opened again—and in walked Madeline.
Every room she entered seemed to drop in temperature by ten degrees. She wore red today, bold and commanding, with her sharp eyes sweeping the bakery like she already owned it.
"Walker," she said smoothly, ignoring Lena. "We need to talk. In private."
Lena stood. "Actually, we're kind of busy saving a legacy here."
Madeline turned her icy gaze to Lena. "This isn't personal."
"It is to me," Lena said, lifting her chin. "And to everyone who signed that petition."
Walker stood, placing himself between them. "Madeline, we're not doing this here."
She looked at him, her expression tightening. "You're making a mistake."
"No," he said. "I made mistakes for years. I'm finally doing something right."
Madeline's lips pressed into a tight line. "I'll see you at Monday's board meeting."
She turned and left, her heels tapping out a warning as she exited.
Lena exhaled. "She's not going down easy."
"No," Walker said. "But neither are we."
By closing time, the bakery had run out of three pastries and one entire batch of sourdough. Lena sat at the back counter, tired but buzzing.
Walker stayed to help clean up, rinsing bowls while Lena wiped down the front case.
"Do you regret it?" she asked suddenly. "Choosing this—me?"
He looked at her like she was the only thing in the room.
"I've spent ten years building an empire," he said. "But you? You're the foundation I never knew I needed."
Lena felt her heart rise like warm bread in a quiet oven.
Maybe love wasn't about big gestures or perfect timing.
Maybe it was about showing up.
And staying.