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was worth.
    “That’s a bit more than I’d planned.” Dan admired the way Savannah kept her voice calm even as the outrageously inflated price caused the color to drain from her face.
    “After all,” she said, obviously mustering strength, “as I mentioned before, according to the inspector who examined the property, there’s a great deal of work to be done to even bring the lighthouse up to code.”
    She opened a manila envelope, pulled out some papers, and held them toward Henry. When he refused to take them, she placed the papers on the pine coffee table between them.
    “That cost doesn’t even factor in what it will take to make it livable.” She countered with a price half what he’d stated.
    “Some high-flying resort company from down in your old neck of the woods offered a helluva lot more than that.”
    “I have no doubt they did. Having worked for a number of resorts, and knowing how they operate, I also suspect that the first thing they’d do is raze the house.”
    Henry held his ground. “Can’t see why they’d want to do that. Wouldn’t be much market for a Far Harbor lighthouse resort without the keeper’s house.”
    “It’s not that large,” she pointed out. “If the new owners tore it down, they could construct one of those huge redwood and cedar resorts that are springing up all along the coast.”
    She’d obviously done her homework; as Henry’s attorney, Dan knew that International Timeshare Resorts had indeed suggested a plan to tear down both houses.
    “Of course, they might decide to keep the lighthouse,” she allowed. “After all, they could always use it to sell fake scrimshaw, miniature totem poles, and CDs of whale songs to tourists.”
    “No jackass is going to be selling fake scrimshaw made in Taiwan or Tijuana outta my lighthouse,” Henry warned.
    “I’d hate to see that as well,” Savannah replied smoothly. “But if you sell it to ITR, it won’t be your lighthouse any longer, will it?”
    Henry harrumphed. “Won’t be my lighthouse if I sell it to you, either.”
    “I was thinking about that on the drive over here.” Savannah reached into the folder again and pulled out a sheet of handwritten figures. “I believe I may have a solution that would suit both our purposes.”
    He gave her the long, unblinking stare that Dan had gotten used to. If she was even slightly intimidated, Savannah didn’t show it.
    “Well,” Henry demanded crankily, “you gonna share this idea or keep it all to yourself? I’m not a damn mind reader.”
    “I was thinking we could become partners.”
    “Partners?”
    Savannah nodded. “That’s right.”
    “Why in sam hill would I want to be partners with you?”
    “Perhaps because it would allow you to retain part ownership of a home that’s been in your family for three generations. At the same time, you’ll be making a profit from the property.”
    “What makes you think you can even turn a profit from that ramshackle old place?”
    Dan flashed Savannah a discreet thumbs-up for having gotten Henry to agree that the property was far from livable. The only indication that she’d seen the gesture was a fleeting glint of satisfaction in her eyes—a glint that came and went so fast, Dan would have missed it if he hadn’t been watching her carefully.
    “I’m very good at what I do, Mr. Hyatt. I know the hospitality business and I’ve been preparing for this all my life.” Her expression and her voice softened. “Also, quite frankly, I can’t afford not to, either financially or emotionally….
    “There’s one more thing,” Savannah offered. “If we’re partners, you’ll always have a home at Far Harbor.” She glanced around the plant-filled room that, despite the staff’s attempts at cheeriness, couldn’t overcome the odor of illness and despair. “You could move out of here.”
    Henry blinked. Once. Twice. A third time, reminding Dan of an old owl that used to live in the rafters of his grandparents’ barn