A Husband in Time by MAGGIE SHAYNE Page B

ready in fifteen minutes,” she told them both. “Be there.”
    â€œWe will, Mom.”
    She eyed them both, wondering whether it was truly safe to leave Cody alone with the man, as delusional as he was.
    â€œDon’t go just yet, Jane,” the man said, and he set the control pad down and got to his feet. “I have something to show you. In my satchel.” He went to the bed, where the bag rested, unbuckled it and reached inside. What he pulled out was a newspaper, and he turned to face her, holding it out. “I promised I’d prove myself to you before breakfast. Go on, take it.”
    Swallowing hard, Jane stepped forward and took the crisp newspaper. It was so new she could still smell the ink. The Rockwell Sentinel, it said across the front—31 August 1897.
    She blinked and looked up at him. Cody had forgotten all about his game, and was standing close beside her. “Wow. It’s really true,” he said in awe.
    â€œCody, these things can be made to order. You know that.” Her eyes met Zach’s. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t good enough.”
    â€œI was afraid it might not be. Fortunately, I have more.” He came closer to her, took her arm and turned her slightly, pointing. “There is a loose floor-board, the fourth one from that wall,” he told her, pointing as he did. “Beneath it is my journal. Records I kept of the work I was doing. I put them there for safekeeping out of habit. My field is wrought with competitors, not all of them honest men. The notes are there, with the exception of one page. One I tore out and brought with me. Notes and figures I would need should the device require adjusting or repair.”
    She stared at him, then at the floor, where he was pointing.
    â€œCome, let’s look. We need to get your skepticism out of the way, if I’m going to be able to proceed.”
    â€œLook, Mom,” Cody begged. “He’s telling the truth, I know he is!”
    Shrugging, Jane moved to the spot he’d indicated. She bent down, pressing on the loose board with her hands, gasping and drawing away when it moved. She glanced his way, licking her lips, and then attempted to pull the board up.
    â€œAllow me.” He bent down beside her and pulled the loose end of the board until it came up a few inches. He held it there while she thrust her hands beneath and pulled out a heavy leather-bound journal. Then she sat down on the floor, pulling it into her lap.
    â€œI can’t believe…”
    â€œYou must believe, Jane. Please, open it up. Look at it.”
    She brushed the dust from the leather cover and opened the book. The pages had yellowed and curled with time. But the handwriting on them was still legible. She shook her head in wonder.
    â€œSeveral pages in, find the place where a page is missing.”
    Nodding quickly, Jane turned the pages, takingcare with them due to their fragile condition. She found the spot where jagged, yellowed edges were all that remained, and looked up into his eyes. He pulled a folded page from his vest pocket, smoothed the sheet and handed it to her. It was white and crisp and new. She took the page from him, stared at it in wonder, and then laid its uneven edge against the jagged, yellowed place in the book.
    And the edges lined up perfectly. She scanned the pages, and noticed that the handwriting was identical, as well.
    â€œMy God,” she whispered. “My God, it’s true.”
    Her hands, still holding the page, began to tremble.
    â€œI’m sorry to shock you this way,” he told her gently. “But, Jane, I must convince you to let me stay here. Work here, until I can find out what went wrong with the experiment. I have to go back.”
    Her head came up, her eyes meeting his. “To save your son.”
    â€œYes. Yes, I must prevent him from dying. If I can go back, return to a time before Benjamin was exposed, I can take him away.