Page 19 of Solid Foundation
“I was wondering… could we talk? In private?” I didn’t want anyone to overhear anything about the letters until I was certain we could use them in the show—or at least until I knewwhatI was going to do with them.
He glanced around at the remaining crew members, but nobody was paying attention to us. “Okay.”
I led the way to the trailer and once the door was shut, I took a deep breath. Before I could say a word, Jake spoke.
“If this is about Friday night—”
“It’s not,” I said, cutting him off. “I wanted to talk about the letters again. I need your help.”
He furrowed his brow. “How so?”
“I’m stuck. I can’t find last names and I don’t have any clue how to figure out who Nathan and Freddie were. I don’t know what my next steps are.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve dealt with this a little bit when it comes to restoring old houses. You probably need land deeds. Maybe the census records. From there, you can check out birth and death records probably. News clippings will only get you so far.”
I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. “I didn’t think of the census. That’s smart.”
He shrugged and backed up as if he were about to leave. “Anything else?”
“Would you… go with me? Help me do the research? You know this town better than I do, and I bet you have inroads that I’ll never have.”
He snorted and shook his head. “I’m not exactly known for being Mister Charming.”
“You know who to ask for. You can introduce me. I really need your help. Please.”
He sighed and shook his head. “Okay, fine. I’ll meet you at the library in an hour.”
“Deal.”
Exactly one hour later, I was at the library, ready and waiting for Jake to arrive. I took a seat at a table near the entrance and tried not to stare at the sliding doors. He didn’t keep me waiting long, arriving just a few minutes later in jeans and a T-shirt that showed off his muscular frame, the short sleeves stretching around his biceps. I swallowed hard and tried to redirect my thoughts.
Jake nodded at me and then headed to the librarian’s desk without a word. I scurried up behind him and put on my best smile when we reached the desk.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” The librarian was on the younger side—about my age, maybe a little younger, around thirty years old, and she had a complicated braid holding back her thick brown hair.
Jake tilted his head in my direction. “Jenny, this is Max. He’s in town working on that reality show on my job site.”
Her smile lit up her face. “That’s really exciting. How are things going with that?”
I put on my most professional smile and leaned on the counter. “They’re going great, actually. But we need some help doing research on something we found in the house.”
“What was it?”
“A stack of letters. I want to see if I can figure out who the letter writers were and what happened to them.”
Jenny sighed dreamily. “That’s so sweet! Well, you’re welcome to go down in the archives. I’ll walk you down there.”
Score. “Thank you so much. That’s perfect.” We followed her downstairs to the library basement, where rows and rows of bookshelves and filing cabinets were collecting dust.
“Not many people come down here, but you’re welcome to look around as much as you need. We close in two hours.” We thanked her, and with that, she hurried back upstairs, leaving the two of us alone.
My stomach churned with so many feelings—excitement over the possibility of getting more information on the letter writers, anxiety over how Jake would behave, and a yearning to kiss him again.
“Guess we’d better get to it then,” he said gruffly.
I put the folder of letters on a table and we went our separate ways—Jake searching for land deeds, me searching for census records on the computer that was set up for library patrons to use. I searched through the files, looking for the census records closest to when the letter was written—1920. Eventually I found what I was looking for and called out to Jake.
“I think I’ve got something.”
