Chapter 13

Landon woke up and looked at the morning sun coming in from outside.

Another night without nightmares. He rubbed Scout’s fur.

Scout stood and wagged his tail. “Want to go out?” he asked.

The tail moved faster.

“Time to get up,” he said. He was hungry. Appetite was something else that had been missing. Dr. Michaels would be proud. He should write about that in his journal.

Landon slipped into jeans and a T-shirt, then went to the back door and opened it. Scout dashed out into the woods.

He stood there and watched as the dog explored the area in the back, did his business and returned.

The lake was visible through the trees. The scent of pines perfumed the air. A few wildflowers peeked up out of the ground.

He sat down, opened his laptop, and downloaded the photos he took at the museum to start working.

Landon read and wrote for a few hours. He had a sheet of paper where he had drawn a timeline with short notes above each date and event he thought might be important. A lot of the early years revolved around the Carter family. However, there was a blank space at the very beginning. The earliest news was about Fergus Carter supporting the statehood. A title in an old newspaper read, “Town’s hero.”

His hometown newspaper with a similar title flashed in his head.

Suddenly, the sparks in his head were rising with a panicky feeling that was impossible to ignore. He couldn’t stay in the chair, and he couldn’t focus on the images in front of him. His shirt felt too close at the neck. He had trouble catching his breath. The walls got closer, the ceiling lower. His heart felt like a sledgehammer hitting his chest.

He went out the main door into the open air, where he could begin to breathe.

He took off his shirt and sat down on the grass breathing through his mouth. The cold morning air brought him back to reality.

Scout lay down at his side. Steve scratched his ears. “Did I scare you? Don’t worry, I’m okay now.”

His thoughts turned to Grace and how she had handled his flashback when they were at the restaurant.

His phone rang startling him. Landon looked at the screen. It was Grace. Spooky.

After the preliminaries, she got to the point. “Remember Marcus Carter, the one who might have original journals from the 1850s?”

“Yes, Jonas and I talked about him. He gave me his address.”

“Oh, goody. I was calling you to give you his phone number.”

“I have a question for you, how do I approach Mr. Carter? Jonas said he might be reluctant to talk to someone.”

“Quite honestly, I don’t know. I talk with his secretary most of the time. An old vinegary spinster. If you try to set a meeting through her she’ll say no,” Grace opined. “Marcus Carter had retreated from nearly everyone in the last years. But he’s very proud of his family roots. If he knows about the project he might be willing to help. We’ll talk more about it tonight.”

“Tonight?” Landon didn’t remember making any plans with her.

“Around six,” Grace said in a matter-of-factly tone. “I’ll cook for you and we’ll talk more about your work and strategies to reach Marcus Carter. Don’t worry, I’ll bring everything I need. I hope you like pizza.”

“Yeah, I love pizza. Who doesn’t?” Suddenly Landon was hungry and remembered he didn’t have breakfast yet.

He wasn’t sure whether he was ready for it, but Grace McAllister was the kind of person who didn’t take no for an answer.

“Landon, are you really okay with this? I don’t want to impose myself.”

Landon appreciated her words.

“It’s fine,” Landon said. He stood there for a moment. It wasn’t fine at all, but he needed the job and Grace had been very helpful and respectful so far.

Despite any misgivings, he was hooked on the job. One of his character flaws was an obsession to finish whatever he started.