Page 105 of My Heart Will Find You

Nellie was driving the buggy with Alice and Etta squashed in beside her.

“I take it back,” Alice said as she looked at the angry women lining the street. “Youshouldpity yourself.”

Etta did her best to keep her chin up and her eyes straight ahead. “If anything happens to me, would you please embroider my name on the parasol you gave me? I want everyone to know it’s mine.”

Alice gave her a wide-eyed look then nodded.

Nellie stopped at the church and the women got out.

“No men to help us down,” Alice muttered and shot a look of fire at Etta. “So help me, if anything happens to Pat, I’ll... I’ll...”

Etta felt the same way. She locked arms with her sister-in-law, and they went up the stairs and into the church.

She and Alice sat with Nellie in the front pew on the left. Across the aisle from them was John Kecklin and Cornelia. The females from in town and the nearby countryside, young and old, filled up the seats behind them. There were farmer’s wives beside girls from the saloon.At least people are united, Etta thought.I just wish they weren’t joined together againstme.

Now, everyone was silent as Sally read passages from the Bible. When she sang, they stood up and joined her.

The church service went on for a long time. No one seemed to want to leave the sanctity of the little building. When Sally finally closed her Bible, the congregation silently exited.

Alice, Nellie, and Etta stayed in place, looking straight ahead until the church emptied. Etta squeezed Alice’s hand in thanks for staying with her, then they got up and left.

She should have known that John Kecklin would be waiting outside for her. Alice tried to pull her away, but Etta held her ground. Let the man say whatever he wanted to. Words couldn’t hurt more than her fear.

Kecklin was smirking. “After today’s scare, the women will throw you out and so will Lawton. Or maybe you’ll be a widow. I’ll give a good price for your land.” He laughed. “But then, maybe you made it all up.”

With that, he left, his hands in his pockets and whistling. He believed he’d won the war.

Behind him was Cornelia. She looked as frightened as Etta was. “Bert went with them. I hope all thisisa lie.” She started to walk away but stopped. “I know I owe you, but I can fight only one battle at a time against him.” She hurried after her father.

Etta knew what she meant. It was a fight with her father to get the man she loved. Cornelia didn’t have the strength or energy to fight for Etta too.

As Nellie drove them home, they were silent. Etta was almost glad she didn’t know exactly where the men were, or she’d go to them. What was happening? The lack of communication was tearing her apart. Oh for a mobile phone and a text saying they were all right. She had visions of riots and fire and men screaming in pain.

At home after lunch, they sat in the living room. Alice had her embroidery frame out and was working on a replacement panel for the parasol. This one bore Etta’s name.

Nellie was painting, while Etta tried to read one of Max’s mother’s books about eighteenth-century gardening. So far, she’d managed about ten words. She was twitchy, restless, and her body kept shaking. Pure, unadulteratedfear.

At four, they’d still had no information about anything. No wounded, bleeding man had returned to them with bad news. Or good news.

Alice left the room and made a big pot of tea. “Drink it,” she said to Etta.

“I don’t want anything. I—”

“Drink!” Alice commanded, and she sounded exactly like her brother.

Reluctantly, Etta obeyed. After she finished the second cup, she felt very sleepy.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a nap?” Alice said.

“No. I want to be here if anyone comes with news.”

“I’ll wake you if I hear anything.”

Etta heaved herself up and went to the bedroom she shared with Max. She fell onto the bed and was asleep instantly.

She began to dream and she knew she was.I’m in a dream inside a dream, she thought. She saw Henry. Not the painter but Henry in Kansas City. He had on his old green cardigan and he was talking, but she couldn’t hear him.Alone, he was mouthing.

“I know,” she said. “If I return, I will be alone.” He picked up something, and at first she didn’t know what it was. It was a war bonnet, a glorious thing with lots of feathers. When Etta had spent days researching, she’d read that the Cheyenne were one of the few tribes that actually wore the huge headdresses that modern people knew about.

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