Chapter 1

Grace walked into the town hall/community center and sat beside Molly. "Any idea why Mayor Allen called this 'emergency meeting,'" she asked her friend and business partner.

"Not really," she answered hesitantly. She turned to face Grace and gave her a worried look. "I am concerned, though. There have been rumors floating around for weeks now, and I have a feeling they might be the reason for this meeting."

"What rumors?"

Molly shifted uncomfortably in her seat. At only three months pregnant, she hadn't started to show, but nausea and back pain had become constant companions. "Many older people are unhappy with everything we've been doing these last few months. They feel like we're trying to turn Winterwood into the next Hope Springs and are ruining our town's quiet, peaceful nature."

Grace's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Seriously? But that's the last thing we're trying to do. To sell our small-town experiences, we need our town to stay a 'small town.'"

"I know that, and you know that, but…."

"But they don't know that," Grace finished for her. "Has anyone tried to talk to these people?"

"As far as I know, yes. But it seems to be falling on deaf ears."

"Okay, well, I'm sorry they feel that way, but other than complain, what can they do about it?"

"They petitioned to have your business license revoked. They said your house is not properly zoned for the type of business you're running."

"What?" she gasped. "Why haven't I been told about this?"

"I just found out this morning, and the only reason I know is because Grant was in the mayor's office when it happened."

Mayor Allen entered the room and took his seat in the circle, ending their conversation. Grace sat in stunned silence as the mayor went through the motions of bringing the meeting to order. Her granny had lived in Winterwood her entire life. She had grown up with the people now trying to take away their livelihood. They were her friends and neighbors, and to Grace's knowledge, not one of them had bothered to try talking to Granny first. What they were doing now felt like a betrayal, and if this were the way they would choose to go about things, the town may need to change.

A gentle nudge from Molly brought her out of her daze and Mayor Allen's words into focus. "This morning, my office received a petition to shut down Grace's bed and breakfast business." He paused as an audible gasp erupted from the rest of the council members.

"On what grounds?" asked Mr. Wilkins.

"Nepotism," Mayor Allen stated matter-of-factly.

"Nepotism?" Grace repeated back skeptically. "But I'm not related to you. Or anyone else on the council, for that matter." She looked around the room to see everyone else as confused as she felt.

"No, you're not. But the authors of the petition claim that you are receiving unfair treatment due to your family's name and history with this town."

Grace shook her head in disbelief. "So, what does this mean? Are you revoking my license?"

Mayor Allen hesitated. "At this moment, no. I have forwarded the petition to the town's attorney and am waiting to hear back from him on how best to proceed. However, let's put our current plans for Easter on hold, just in case."

"But we already have reservations booked," Molly objected. "Shutting us down now would cause significant financial harm to Grace and Granny Josephine."

"I will make sure to pass that information along to the attorney as well," he responded, an uncomfortable expression on his face.

"I can't believe this," Grace said out loud to no one in particular.

"It will be okay, honey," Bea, who was sitting on her other side, said as she patted her arm.

Grace turned to Bea, tears in her eyes. "We need the money this business brings in. I don't know what we'll do if they shut us down."

Bea pulled her into a hug. "Let's not worry about that just yet, okay? There's still a chance the attorney could come back and tell us their petition is without merit."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then we'll figure something else out."

Unsure of what else to do, Grace pulled herself together and nodded. She even tried to give Bea a small smile for good measure.

Mayor Allen cleared his throat. "I know you're all pretty upset right now, and rightfully so. I will get back to you as soon as I have some answers. In the meantime, please keep this to yourselves."

The council members filed out of the community center in small groups of two and three, whispering among themselves. As Grace and Molly got up to do the same, Mayor Allen approached.

"I'm sorry, Grace. I'm sure this feels like a personal attack, but I can assure you it's not. At least not on my part."

"You're right; it does feel personal. I've known these people my entire life. For them to accuse me of trying to throw my family's name around like I'm some social pariah is hurtful at best."

"I don't think they mean it like that."

"Then how do they mean it? We haven't done anything wrong. In fact, my business has done a lot of good for this town. We've brought in a ton of revenue that we would never have seen otherwise for Winterwood and local businesses. How could that ever be a bad thing?"

Mayor Allen reached out and grabbed her hand. "Trust me, Grace; it isn't a bad thing. Most of us are thankful for what you've done, and if it were up to me, I would have ripped up the petition and thrown it in the trash where it belongs."

Grace smiled at the image. "Thank you. I know you're just doing your job."

He gave her hand one last squeeze and then let go. "I'll let you know as soon as I hear something."

The three of them left, Mayor Allen going one way toward his office and Grace and Molly going the other. Once outside, Molly stopped to check her phone. "I got a text from Grant; he wants us to meet him at the hotel."

"The run-down needs to be condemned, that we decided we absolutely are not buying, hotel?

"Yes, that's the one."

"Okaaayyy, why are we meeting him there?"

"I have no idea."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Molly started walking toward the hotel. As it was only two blocks from the town hall, driving seemed unnecessary. Grace had to walk fast to keep up with Molly's much longer stride. As a recent Boston transplant, Molly had yet to adapt to Winterwood's much slower pace of life.

When they reached the hotel, Grant was waiting for them outside the front doors with a massive grin on his face. A man Grace had never seen before was standing with him. "What's going on?" she asked suspiciously.

"Grace, Molly, I would like you to meet Bruce Roberts. He's a realtor from Hope Springs."

Bruce gave them each a big smile and took turns shaking their hands enthusiastically. He looked to be somewhere in his mid-twenties, though Grace wouldn't be surprised if this were his first showing as a real estate agent. There was an eagerness to him that she'd never seen in the more experienced realtors around town.

"What's going on, Grant?" Molly asked, echoing Grace's earlier question.

"Bruce here is going to give us a tour of the old hotel," Grant replied excitedly.

"I gathered that. The question is, why?"

"That is something we will talk about later. But, for now, let's see what this baby has to offer."

"Speaking of babies," Grace interjected. "Are you sure it's safe for us to go inside? We've all heard the rumors this place has a mold problem as well as potential structural issues."

"While this place is classified as a fixer-upper, the owner's made sure that all potential health hazards were taken care of before they listed it on the market," said Bruce.

Grace nodded, unsure of whether or not to believe him. As far as she knew, the hotel had sat vacant for around seventy years, which is a lot of time for damage to occur. And, to her knowledge, no one had seen anyone working on the hotel as of late. But curiosity had a way of getting the best of her, so she decided to go with it and follow them inside.

At some point in history, the front entrance had been moved from the corner of the building to the side, likely to accommodate the new street layout. So, the once grand entrance went from two large, double wooden doors under a large canopy to two regular-sized glass doors, similar to those at a gas station. To say it cheapened the look of the hotel would be an understatement.

Since the outside of the building had set the bar pretty low, Grace's expectations for the inside were practically non-existent. So when she walked inside and saw the opulent lobby for the first time, she gasped in surprise, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. She was so enamored with the place that she barely registered Molly grabbing her arm as she, too, looked around in stunned silence.

The ceiling was at least ten feet tall and covered in what looked to be original highly decorative tin ceiling tiles. There were columns strategically placed throughout, likely for structural purposes, but they were also decorative and added to the room's grandeur. A large dark-stained wooden reception desk sat off to one side, and a beautiful crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the room.

The floors had seen better days, the carpet now a raggedy mess that no amount of professional cleaning could save, but that was something that someone could easily replace. It didn't take a lot of effort to imagine the bustling activity that would have taken place in this very room over a hundred years ago. She could easily picture the men and women, in their proper eighteen hundreds style outfits, moving through the rooms or gathering in small groups to discuss the latest news.

She and Molly wandered around as she daydreamed, taking in the sights. Directly off from the lobby was a large room that looked like it might have been a dining room at one time. It had the same ceiling tiles as the lobby, columns lining both sides, and a gorgeous red floor made out of some kind of stone.

"The floor is made out of granite," Bruce commented as he watched them study it. "It's original to the hotel and came from a local quarry."

"Really?" Grace said as she looked at him with interest. "How long do floors like this last?"

"Obviously, over a hundred years," he laughed. "In all seriousness, though, they can last as long as you care for them."

Grace nodded as she took that in. They were in trouble if the rest of the hotel was in as good a condition as these first two rooms. Not only would this place come with a hefty price tag, but the new owner would have no problem getting a hotel business up and running in a part of town already zoned for commercial use. So not only would they be exempt from Grace's current difficulties, they could easily put her out of business. If she ended up allowed to continue her business.

"This is the nicest part of the hotel," Bruce stated as if reading her mind. "The rest needs a fairly substantial amount of work. There are fifteen rooms per floor, for a total of forty-five, and each one needs new paint, carpet, and furniture at a minimum. Also, since this place was built way before indoor plumbing, all the bathrooms are what they call a 'retrofit,' and only a couple of rooms have them. The rest of the rooms share two large, locker-room style bathrooms, two per floor."

"So if we want each room to have its own bathroom…." Grace trailed off.

"Then you will have to undertake some serious renovations," Bruce said as he nodded. "Although, that might not be a bad idea. Since this place has sat empty since the sixties, the plumbing is likely original to the time it was first installed. If it isn't already necessary, an update certainly won't hurt."

"How much do they want for this place?" asked Molly.

Molly's face had taken on an unreadable expression, and her tone had changed to her professional 'work' voice. To Grace, that could only mean one thing, Molly was seriously interested in buying the hotel.

"The seller is asking fifty-thousand."

Grace's eyes went wide as saucers, and it took everything she had to keep from blurting out a surprised "that's it!" Instead, she watched in silence as Molly addressed Grant.

"I think we need to have a conversation." She looked at Grace. "All three of us."

They thanked Bruce for taking the time to show them the hotel, then walked over to Molly and Grant's office, just across the street from the town hall/community center/fire department. She wasn't sure about Grant and Molly, but she would need time to process everything that had happened that morning. It was way too much in too short a time.

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