“That marriage is the only place where two lovers can exist in a world all their own. That the deep places come from the commitment, the pledging of hearts and lives until death. You called it a covenant, and that touched him. He wanted that with me.” Kate’s eyes welled up. “Thank you.”
In the amber glow of outdoor lights, the sisters hugged, sniffing away happy tears. “I’m really happy for you.”
“One day I’ll be happy for you, Chloe. I just know it.”
“Good night, Kate.”
As she passed through the kitchen on the way to Dad’s office, Chloe checked the fridge for leftovers. Grilled chicken. Perfect. Time to get fit for the Faith Freeman costume and stunts.
Putting a cold chicken breast on a plate, Chloe headed to the library. She found Dad on the sofa talking to an older, dark-haired man.
“Chloe, good, you’re here.” Dad and the man stood.
Chloe studied the two of them, glanced at her plate, then set it on the table by the door. “What’s going on?”
“Chloe, this is Oliver Hanson.” Dad was bubbly and animated. He was never bubbly. And rarely animated.
“How do,” Oliver said, offering his hand to Chloe. Dressed in jeans and a plaid, snap shirt, he appeared to be about Dad’s age but carried the aura of a hardworking, blue-collar, salt-of-the-earth working man. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“And you.” Chloe liked him instantly. “Are you one of Dad’s high school buddies?”
“Me? Naw. First time I ever seen him.”
“Oliver contacted me through Gonda Films. Becky thought his e-mail might interest me. Well, actually, you.” Dad moved to the wet bar, then returned with three cold Perriers.
“Me?” Chloe made a face and reached for the cold bottle. “Did I win a million dollars?”
Oliver shook his head. “Not from me.”
“I had to check him out before bringing his story to you. Do a bit of research.” Dad leaned toward Oliver as if they’d been acquainted for ages. “We’ve had some crazy claims and accusations before.”
“I can imagine. Don’t bother me none if you checked me out.”
Indeed, the Daschles had endured their share of hoaxes, false claims, and lies. A long-lost “relative” looking for a chance to be “in the pictures.” A wannabe starlet claiming to be the mother of Dad’s love child. An actor swearing Mom washismother. A line of swindlers, posers, elbow rubbers... all wanting a piece of Hollywood royalty.
“Oliver is in possession of a letter,” Dad motioned for him to take up the story.
“Sure enough. I’ve had this here letter in my family for ages. I’m from New York, but I was doing some contract work in Chesnee, South Carolina, this spring when I heard someone was making a film. I’m on a crew what goes around fixing up schools, gymnasiums, historical buildings, stuff like that.”
“O-okay.” Chloe twisted the cap from her water. Where was this going?
Oliver slid a brittle, yellow envelope across the smooth, glistening surface of the teakwood table.
Esther Longfellow, Slathersby Hill
“Esther Longfellow?” Chloe reached for the letter. “Jesse’s grandfather wrote to an Esther Longfellow.”
“My granny had this for years,” Oliver said. “Kept it in her jewelry box. Said her granny gave it to her and well, far as I can tell, it’s been in the family for a good long while. We don’t rightly know where it came from but...” The man paused, twisting the cap from his Perrier, inspecting the bottle with an arched brow. “Granny said, ‘I’lltell you what my granny told me. This letter belongs to somebody. We’ve been entrusted with its care.’ Made no sense to me being as it’s over two hundred years old. But when I heard about the movie based on a letter, I got to thinking and researching, and well, here I am.”
“I’m confused.” Chloe peered inside the envelope to find a slip of paper inside, the edges slightly tattered, the paper delicate on the folds. “What does this have to do with me? You should be talking to Jesse Gates. I can give you his number, but good luck with getting him to call you back.”
“Read it,” Dad said.
Chloe unfolded the note, a sudden expectation weighing on her.
Hannah’s Cowpens
January 16, 1781
