“Hey, a little off-roading is good for the soul.”
“You mean driving off the road?” Edith asked. “Is that allowed?”
“Are you suggesting I give myself a ticket?” The sheriff put an arm around her mother’s shoulders, leading her to the door. “Now button up that coat and let’s go. I guess I’ll just have to wait for that Prospector’s Pie.” He looked back at Sorrow and winked.
A zing of excitement stabbed her chest. “I can do you one better,” she heard herself say. “You like salmon, Billy?”
Eleven
Marlene’s date had gone south fast. She’d had plenty of time to contemplate that sad fact, seeing as he’d sat across from her, this total stranger, talking at her the whole time. There was not one single question he had to ask her. The blasted man just droned on and on about fishing. And he hadn’t even called it fishing—he’d corrected her every time she dared say the word. “Angling, Marlene. It’s called angling.”
He started in on “bite indicators,” and that was when she’d tuned out completely. She’d already had a man who’d chewed her ear off about fishing, and look how that had turned out. She certainly didn’t need to go out and find herself a new one.
But the whole situation had made her think. All these men had their leisure activities—watching sports, going fishing, playing golf. So what were her passions? Some days it felt like she’d gone straight from raising four young boys to caring for three elderly women. Unless she counted dusting and laundry among her pastimes, she had a sad absence of interests in her life. Interests that were hers and hers alone.
Sometime during the bite indicators conversation, she made her decision. She’d forget men for the moment and pour her heart and soul into the historical society instead.
That was how she came to be early, prepared, and waiting when folks started to arrive at the town hall for their weekly meeting. It’d been some feat getting her elderly aunts and mother ready sooner than usual.
Now that they had these letters, the meeting promised to be a rip-roaring one. She hadn’t yet told the ladies the news about how Buck Larsen had spent time in Sierra Falls and was making a great show of a grand secret to be revealed. So with promises of high drama ahead, she’d managed to wrangle Ruby, Pearl, and Ma into their coats.
The drama began even before they got to the meeting. Marlene heard an unfamiliar car outside and opened the door to find Billy Preston parking in their drive.
“Oh, good heavens.” Her aunt Ruby’s eyes widened, seeing the big sheriff’s SUV. “The law is here.”
Pearl sidled into the doorway. Her gloved hand had a death grip on Marlene’s arm. “What do you think happened?”
Ma piped up, “Did he find out about that lipstick I took?”
“Oh, hush Emerald. That was back in 1946.”
Marlene spotted Edith in the front seat and patted Pearl’s hand. “I think what happened is Edith had car trouble again.”
Billy hopped out of the car. “You’re all looking lovely today.” He bounded up the porch stairs, taking an aunt on each arm. “Your chariot awaits.”
Marlene locked up the house and, taking her mother’s arm, followed him to the car. “Sheriff, you probably have a dozen other important things to do.”
“Maybe so, but this was at the top of my list.” With a smile, he helped her climb into the additional row of backseats. “You going to be okay back there?”
“Yes.” She settled herself, but her mind was churning. Now here was a considerate man. She’d sensed it the day he’d helped free her car from the snowbank. This was a man who wouldn’t chew off a woman’s ear about bait lines. She wasn’t used to getting help, though, and twice in a row from the same man no less. She felt bad putting him out. “You don’t need to drive us old biddies to our meeting.”
“I don’t see any biddies here.” He gave Pearl a wink.
The moment she was buckled in, Ruby leaned forward to study the complicated control panel that was nestled between the front seats. The police radio crackled to life, and distant, unintelligible chatter filled the SUV.
The ladies gasped. Marlene had a chuckle to herself. They’d be talking about this for weeks.
They talked about it now, seated in the Sierra Falls Town Hall, waiting for the meeting to come to order. She and Edith sat at the front, and she could sense that her friend was dying to gossip about the sheriff, but Marlene silenced her with a look. They were the heads of the historical society, and it was up to them to project an official air.
As chairwoman and de facto treasurer, Marlene was the one who got to use the gavel, and she banged it. “Time to get this meeting to order. First item of business is our budget.”
They addressed their dwindling bank account, and as was often the case with money talk, the discussion dissolved into grumbling and fretting.
Edith shushed them, and Marlene’s head swiveled to give her friend a startled look. “Marlene and I think we have a solution,” Edith said. “We found letters.”
Marlene gave a quick pat to her friend’s hand. It wasn’t like Edith to put herself out there like that. It looked good on the woman.
“Letters?” a woman in the back asked. “How are a bunch of letters going to help us?”