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too much of a risk.”
    Emma looked down, refusing to concede defeat. So what if Grader turned her down? There were other banks out there. She didn’t care how long it took; she would not take no for an answer. The Spirit Inn meant too much to her to give up now.
    She started gathering the papers from the loan officer’s desk.
    â€œThank you for your time,” she said, placing them back in the Pee-Chee folder that served as her briefcase. “I guess I’ll just have to find the money somewhere else.”
    Grader shifted in his seat and stared at the pen he was twirling in his fingers.
    â€œLook, maybe I could run your request by the committee again.”
    Emma’s heart leaped; she could have kissed him. Instead, she gave a dignified nod.
    â€œThank you. I appreciate it,” she said, handing him the Pee-Chee folder.
    â€œDon’t thank me yet,” he said. “To be honest, I doubt it’ll make any difference.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” Emma said. “Just the fact that you’re willing to ask means a lot.”
    Grader waved away the compliment and set the folder aside.
    â€œI admire your spirit,” he said. “But I think you’re making a mistake. You’re a young woman. Why hang on to a white elephant like that? You could sell it, take the money, and see the world. If she were still alive, I think your grandmother would agree.”
    â€œI know that,” Emma said. “But I don’t want to see any more of the world than I’ve got right here. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true.”
    â€œAll right.” Grader sighed and shook his head. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
    He walked her to the door and they shook hands.
    â€œI’ll submit your request tonight and call you when the loan committee makes its decision.”
    As the door closed behind her, Emma almost wilted with relief. Maybe things hadn’t gone as well as she’d hoped, but at least he hadn’t said no. Harold Grader was probably just making sure that she knew what she was doing. Why else would he have asked her all those questions? He was a banker, after all. Bankers were supposed to be careful with their money. If he didn’t think the committee would approve her loan, he wouldn’t have agreed to run it by them.
    The more she thought about it, the surer Emma was that her loan would be approved. She could pay off her bills, give herself some breathing room, and start moving the Spirit Inn squarely into the twenty-first century. And after that, she thought as she got back into her truck, there’d be no stopping her.
    Emma was halfway home when the first drops of rain hit her windshield. As she started up the winding road that led to the Spirit Inn, she congratulated herself for having put the studded tires on her truck the day before. Down in the valleys, they could wait until November to prepare for winter, but up here even a moderate amount of precipitation could quickly turn to ice, making the roads hazardous.
    The inn her grandmother had left her was situated on a large plat in the middle of an evergreen forest. Ski resorts and newly minted tech millionaires had been snapping up the land around her fifteen hundred acres, but Emma refused to sell. To her, the towering trees were like the spires of a natural cathedral, the ferns and wake-robin as ethereal as stained glass.
    I’ve got to find a way to save this place.
    The box of supplies lurched from one side of the cab to the other as her truck continued up the hill. Emma was anxious to talk to Clifton about her meeting with Grader and hoped he wouldn’t be upset that her plans were still alive. After all, she told herself, his reluctance had nothing to do with her. Some people just had a hard time with change.
    As her truck rounded the last curve, the road widened and Emma smiled. The inn’s parking lot had filled in the time she’d been