Free Forever by Linda Cassidy Lewis Page A

He’d almost surely be found in the dee—”
    “I’ll take the probate records,” Annie said without hesitation. An odd sensation, like cold water running the length of her spine, accompanied her response, and that feeling assured her she’d chosen the right records. As she carried the film back to the machine, she reached up to touch the still cool spot at the nape of her neck.
    Relieved, Annie saw that this film started with an index. She scanned to the “S” section, her heart quickening even before she consciously registered the name—Stout, Jacob p.127. Her breathing quickened and shallowed as she scrolled the film forward. In her haste, she passed the page, then backed up too far and had to start forward again. After another false stop, she slowed her winding to a crawl until she found the correct page. The entry, dated 19 April 1826, was a report to the court by the administrators of the estate of “Jacob Stout, deceased.”
    Annie scanned the report. With a trembling finger, she pressed the button to print the pages. Thank God. Now, Tom would have to believe Jacob existed. And if Jacob existed, Maggie existed. Annie believed in her heart that Jacob and Maggie were revealing their story to her and Tom for only one reason—to remind them of the love they’d shared. The love they deserved to share again.
    * * *
    Though Tom had downed half a dozen Excedrin since morning, his head still throbbed. He pushed his half-eaten lunch away and sat with his head bowed, rubbing his temples. Annie slipped into his thoughts. She’d told him she was going to the library to look for proof of Jacob and Maggie’s existence. What if she found it? If he broke off contact with her, he’d never know. He didn’t have to see her. She could tell him what she found over the phone. The phone he was already picking up.
    After his fourth attempt to reach her cell, he called the theater. The girl who answered checked the schedule and told him Annie wouldn’t be in until four. Damn . Damn . Damn . He wouldn’t have time to go by the theater. He’d already promised Julie he would be home early.
    And, really, what did anything Annie found out about Jacob and Maggie concern him? He didn’t believe in reincarnation. He believed in pretty young women being a temptation. But giving in to that was not something he would do—not if he wanted to stay married. And he did.
    He cleared his desk of the lunch trash and massaged his temples. Shit . This pain might be the beginning of a full-blown migraine. If it kept up, he’d have to take off work even earlier than he planned and go home to bed.
    * * *
    Tom arrived at the theater as the crowd for the next showings lined up at the refreshment counters. He waved to Annie and took a seat at a table by the windows. After she served the last of the cafe customers, she filled another cup, grabbed something from under the counter, and came to sit with him
    “I couldn’t find Jacob listed in either the census or the deed records they have for Hendricks County.” She set the cup of coffee before him. “And I looked for his will. There wasn’t one, but his name was in the probate court records.”
    Tom listened with one ear, still pretending he cared about Jacob and Maggie. Whoever they were— if they were—didn’t matter.
    “I hoped the record would name Maggie and maybe even some children, but it was only a court report on his estate.”
    “And you read the report?”
    “I did, and guess what.”
    “What?”
    “Jacob did own a longrifle. The handwriting is really hard for me to read, but I deciphered some of it. They recorded every little thing the person owned . . . every item of clothing even. They listed powder horns, and lead, knives, and quite a few pelts—evidently he was a hunter, like you said. I made a copy for you too. Maybe you can make out more of the words than I could.” She handed him the two sheets of paper she’d taken from under the counter.
    “Yeah, sure.” He