Free Should've Said No by Tracy March Page A

choices for appetizers or sides?
    “It’s a set menu for everyone,” Tansy said. “Family style.”
    Shelby nodded and Lindsey wondered how her glasses stayed perched on her narrow nose. “Plenty to choose from. As for the appetizers, the tomato chutney’s my favorite, especially on top of the cottage cheese. And people really love the relish tray. They swear the pickled pears are the best they ever—”
    “Thank you, Shelby,” Tansy said with a tone to match one of the sharp looks she’d given Stella the other day at the museum.
    Shelby pressed her lips together tightly and nodded once. “Yes, ma’am.” She turned and scurried toward the kitchen.
    Lindsey unfolded her cloth napkin, spread it across her lap, and set her gaze on Oscar. “So this restaurant has been in your family for—”
    “A hundred years.” He closed his eyes for a second and shook his head. “I can hardly believe it. The history of it is on the back of the menu there.”
    Lindsey turned over the menu and quickly skimmed the few paragraphs. A century ago, The Canary was one of several taverns in Thistle Bend, and the first stop for miners coming back from their work out of town. It managed to survive during the Depression, and the lean years after the mines closed—and the restaurant was still thriving today.

    “This place has an incredible story,” Lindsey said.
    Tansy furrowed her brow. “We’ve made it work for us, but things could’ve been so different. Oscar’s great-grandfather was cheated by the Crenshaws in a very lucrative land deal that would’ve allowed him to diversify the family’s interests. Instead, he labored in the mines for years until he retired and opened The Canary with his son.”
    “My grandfather,” Oscar said.
    Tansy leaned close to Lindsey and whispered, “I’m sure your grandmother must have mentioned the land deal.” She sat straight and leveled a look at Lindsey that had her feeling as if she were knee-deep in quicksand and sinking fast.
    “I don’t recall her saying anything about it.” Lindsey grabbed a fistful of the napkin in her lap and kneaded it between her fingers and her thumb. “What’s the story?” She gave Oscar a pleading look, hoping he was getting ready to come through with a truthful tale that would make some sense of the silent feud.
    “We don’t have the full story,” Oscar said. “Yet.”
    Lindsey’s heart plummeted.
    “We think you’ll find the truth in the documents and journals that have been donated to the museum.” Oscar nodded. “Tansy and Stella Crenshaw have been racing to find it, so that tells us the Crenshaws don’t really know what happened either, or they do know and they’re trying to hide it.”
    Oh, boy.

    The conversation came to a halt as Shelby delivered their drinks. Considering how things were going so far, Lindsey wished she’d ordered a shot of something stiff instead of iced tea. She eyed Oscar’s Jameson on the rocks.
    “Don’t mind me,” Shelby said. “Y’all can keep talking.”
    But no one did until she’d left the table.
    Oscar cleared his throat. “I’ve been told all my life that someone knows the whole story. Either they’ve donated the information to the museum anonymously, they’re going to come forward soon, or you’ll figure out who they are.” He set a serious gaze on Lindsey. “But they will be more likely to do that if they don’t know you’re related to us.”
    Heat rose in Lindsey’s face and she swallowed hard, wondering how long they expected her to keep that secret? “What makes you think any of those things will happen?” She struggled to keep the doubt out of her voice.
    Oscar took a slug of his drink and winced. “People here don’t mind speculating with talk, but when it comes to documenting official history, they’ll make sure we get it right regardless of whose got power in this town.”
    The Crenshaws are like royalty in Thistle Bend. Holly’s words echoed in Lindsey’s mind.
    “What if