The women looked formidable, eyes keen, but their expressions were friendly enough as she pulled up a chair at the edge of the circle and watched their weathered, arthritic hands make the tiniest, most perfect stitches she’d ever seen.

“The quilt is beautiful,” she said into the silence. She could feel some of the women studying her discreetly.

“Thank you,” Pearl said, clearly the spokeswoman for the group. Her husband, Titus, served as a sort of mayor for Old Town Whitehorse, preaching in the center on Sundays, making sure the cemetery was maintained and overseeing the hiring of teachers as needed.

“You have all met our new teacher, Jolene Stevens,” Pearl was saying. “She comes to us straight from Montana State University.”

“So this is your first teaching assignment,” a small white-haired, blue-eyed woman said with a nice smile. “I’m Alice White.”

“I recall your birthday party,” Jolene said. “Ninety-two, I believe?”

Alice chuckled. “Everyone must think I’m going to kick the bucket sometime soon since they’re determined to celebrate my birthday every year now.” She winked at Jolene. “What they don’t know is that I’m going to live to be a hundred.”

Jolene tried to relax in the smattering of laughter that followed. “This area is so interesting. I’m really enjoying the history.”

“I’m sure everyone’s told you about the famous outlaws who used to hide out in this part of the state at the end of the eighteenth century,” a large woman with a cherubic face said. Ella Cavanaugh, a shirttail relation to Pearl and Titus, as Jolene recalled. Everyone seemed to be related in some way or another.

“Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid as well as Kid Curry,” added another elderly member, Mabel Brown. “This part of the state was lawless back then.”

“It certainly seems peaceful enough now,” Jolene commented. “But I did hear something about a murder of a young widow who had a little girl, I believe?”

She could have heard a pin drop. Several jaws definitely dropped, but quickly snapped shut again.

“Nasty business that was,” Ella said and glanced at Pearl.

“When was it?” Jolene asked, sensing that Pearl was about to shut down the topic.

“Twenty-four years ago this month,” Alice said, shaking her head. “It isn’t something any of us likes to think about.”

“Was her killer ever caught?” Jolene asked and saw the answer on their faces.

“Do you sew, Jolene?” Pearl asked. “We definitely could use some young eyes and nimble fingers.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“We would be happy to teach you,” Pearl said. “We make quilts for every baby born around here and have for years. It’s a Whitehorse tradition.”