“They’re historical letters,” Edith said.
Other voices chimed in. “What kind of historical?”
“Maybe they’re just old.”
June Harlan spoke louder than the rest. “How do you know they’re real? It’s impossible to date things with the naked eye.”
Pearl turned in her seat. “You listen up, June, and let her tell it. If Marlene says she has letters, there are letters.”
“Well, where’d she find them?”
Marlene banged the gavel again. “The Bailey family found them.”
Edith gave a proud smile. “And we think our next festival should be a Buck Larsen festival.”
June was looking frustrated. She turned to Pearl, asking in a loud whisper, “Did she say Buck Larsen?”
Ruby spoke up, sounding confused. “Buck Larsen’s dead. He can’t come to the festival.”
“No,” Pearl said. “He wrote the letters. Isn’t that what you’re saying, Marlene?”
“No.” Marlene regretted not telling this news to her aunts and mother in advance. She’d thought it’d be a fun surprise, but the real surprise was how the meeting was crumbling into chaos. “The letters were written by Sorrow Crabtree.”
Emerald turned to Ruby. “Isn’t that Edith’s child?”
Ruby nodded and piped up, “What’s that about Sorrow?”
“Sorrow wrote letters.” Pearl was hard of hearing, and her whisper had echoed down the aisles.
“Not our Sorrow,” Edith said, exasperated. “Our Sorrow found the letters, from her great-great-great-grandmother.”
As understanding dawned, female voices swept across the hall like a sigh. “Ahh.”
Marlene put down her gavel. “Turns out, Buck Larsen was one of the pioneers of our town. If we theme our next festival around Buck Larsen and the gold rush, we might draw more tourists.”
Edith leaned in to add, “More tourists means more money for Sierra Falls.”
Ruby got it and nodded enthusiastically. “So you’re saying Buck Larsen is Bear’s kin.”
Emerald looked aghast. “Bear skin?”
Pearl patted her sister’s hand. “Bear Bailey. They’re talking about his ancestors.”
Marlene couldn’t take the circus anymore. What this crowd needed was a spectacle. She cleared her throat and spoke in her best assembly voice. “Sorrow Crabtree was one of the early residents of Sierra Falls. It looks like she had…an affair. With Buck Larsen. She had his baby.” She paused dramatically to let that sink in, and sure enough, another wave of female oohs and ohhs swept the room.
The meeting fell apart from there, the excitement too great to get any more business done. Marlene spotted Billy Preston waiting at the back of the hall and quickly wrapped it up.
Standing to put on her coat, she turned to Edith. “You never did tell me what the sheriff was doing at your house to be offering you a ride.” The buzz in the hall drowned out her voice, and she leaned close to speak into her friend’s ear. “Seems Billy Preston has an awful lot of business to tend at that tavern of yours.”
Edith puffed up. “He just happened to be there.”
“Mm-hm.” Marlene buttoned up. “Lucky you. Or should I say, your lucky daughter.”
Edith was winding her scarf around her neck, but her hands froze in midair. “Sorrow, you mean?”
“Yes,” Marlene said impatiently. “Sorrow.” First she caught the sheriff toting around her apple bread and now this. “Seems to me like I’ve seen the two of them together a lot lately.”
“Oh no, not him,” Edith said. “He’s a widower.”