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York. He heard about the idea to renovate Smitten and wants to build a big hotel.”
    “Bad news sure gets around.”
    “You’re still opposed?”
    “It’ll never work. If they wanted to make us more like Stowe, catering to the outdoor types, I’d be hopeful, but this is a really nutty idea.”
    “I disagree,” Brian said. “I did some research on towns that have a theme, and their tourist business is booming. The town is really onto something big here.”
    First his uncle, now Brian. Carson had always admired his attorney’s business head. If the guy was in favor, he had to at least listen. “Got an example?”
    Brian nodded. “Take the Poconos. They were a resort destination once upon a time, but bookings had diminished.
    Then in the sixties some of the lodging places started putting in things like heart-shaped tubs and publicizing it as a honeymoon place. Life magazine ran a story about the tubs and the honeymooners. Tourism boomed. There are other towns that advertise something special like German culture or Christmas year-round. Hershey, Pennsylvania, is the chocolate capital. If we specialize on romance, it could be our salvation.”
    “Come on, Brian, it’s peanuts! A few tourists wandering in to see what all the hoopla is about. They’ll just wander right back out, and we’ll have spent all this money for nothing. The mill employed five hundred people. We won’t replace that many jobs with this idea.”
    “Put your personal feelings aside,” Brian said. “Think about it. You sure you don’t want to sell? The guy is offering an outrageous amount of money.” Brian named a figure that made Carson gasp.
    But he would never sell. The place had been a camp for fishermen since the 1800s.
    “If you aren’t going to sell it, the guy offered to invest in your business,” Brian said. “I think you have to consider it.
    Your cabins are a crucial piece of the overall plan. We need the lodging for this to work.”
    “I have lodging.”
    Brian’s nose wrinkled. “Old cots and rough sheets. No woman in her right mind would agree to stay there.”
    Maybe today’s news would lift that glum expression from Brian’s face. Carson stretched out his legs. “Sawyer stopped in on his way to a concert.”
    “I wondered if that was his bus I saw this morning. I only caught a glimpse.”
    “He just headed out. He asked me if things would be up and running in time to have his wedding here. He’d like to do his part with some publicity.”
    Brian’s expression brightened. “Good idea!”
    “Yeah.”
    Sawyer’s face was often on the front cover of magazines. With that kind of promotion, the town would see some major tourism.
    “It could be the big break we all need. A love capital suits his image too, since he focuses on love songs and not drinking ones,” Brian said. “It all ties together.”
    “So you really think this idea has merit?”
    “It’s either this or we all pack up and move out.” Brian stared into his computer screen. “I ran some numbers for your renovation. It will be expensive. The guy’s offer might be something you want to accept.”
    Carson didn’t want to get on board with this idea, but did he have the right to kill it? If there were no decent lodgings for tourists or for Sawyer’s wedding guests, the plan would fail. Did he want to be responsible for the town’s demise if this scheme actually would have worked?
    Carson thought of the amount he had in savings. “It will be tight. I just did some improvements to my hardware store.”
    Brian pursed his lips. “I could loan you the money on a one-year note with a promise to repay after the wedding. A week of full cabins at the prices you could charge would go a long way to paying off the loan.”
    “Sawyer has offered to help out. My uncle too. I’m still not convinced. And the cabins are still going to look like, well, cabins,” Carson said. “No matter what I do.”
    The camp had been on shaky ground for several years,