Page 112 of My Heart Will Find You

In one leap, Etta got up and slammed the door shut. “Then it’s not complete. It’s not done. Not finished.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. You have to help me get dressed. That long corset takes two hands. I bet Cornelia will be wearing something from Paris. Where’s Sephora when I need them? And my hair is awful. Go get your mother’s brush. I have work to do. When will they be here?”

Max hadn’t moved an inch and his face showed complete bewilderment. “I’ll send Alice,” he said and quickly left the room.

21

At dinner, Etta was in such a good mood that she felt like a spotlight had been turned on inside her. First of all, no one had ever done for her what Max did. It was as though the world was divided into two categories. There were those who did the work and those who sat on silk cushions and were waited on. At home, her father and Alicia worked, but it was for their own businesses. Anything outside that was “get Etta to do it.”

By default, the same dynamic had been set up in the Lawton household. Esmeralda had gone back to her family, and everything had been turned over to Etta.

But not tonight. Food, guests, even the table settings were all done by other people.

When Etta saw Henry, it was all she could do not to throw her arms around him. He was so very familiar to her. She wanted to ask him about Ben and Caroline and how the baby was doing. She wanted to tell him how Max had averted the massacre. Her punchline would be, “The Cheyenne didn’t even show up!”

But she couldn’t do any of that. She just praised Cornelia’s utterly divine dress, asked her where she got her earrings—from New York—and smiled at Bert.

When Martha arrived, Etta held her breath. Would calm Henry like fiery Martha in this life? Etta practically pushed Cornelia out of the room so Henry and Martha could have time alone.

Cornelia knew what she was doing. “That’s like leaving a rattler with a baby mouse and hoping they’ll become friends.”

Etta didn’t retreat.

In the dining room, they all took their places, but the two seats along the side were empty.

Henry and Martha were still in the entryway.

“She’s killed him by now,” Max said and started to get up.

Etta looked down the table and gave him a glare to stay seated. They sat in silence for minutes.

“No gunshots so far,” Max said.

“Too bad,” Bert said. “I’ve always wanted to do a murder trial.”

Pat spoke up. “I should see about them.”

“No!” Etta said, and he sat back down.

A minute later, Henry and Martha came into the dining room, and they were smiling as they took their seats.

The grinning smirk that Etta directed to the others was of triumph and I told you so.

Max ducked his head toward her as though in a salute. Cornelia, Bert, Alice, and Pat looked at her in astonishment.

Even though Etta hadn’t been in charge of planning the meal, she took over as they all expected her to do.

“My worry is that the little town of Garrett will disappear,” she said, and they all blinked at her. It was an odd beginning to the dinner conversation. “If the railroad moves, this town will vanish. No one will remember it.” She passed a bowl of potatoes to Henry and looked hard at him. “Instead of wandering all over the country and making pictures that aren’t related to each other, why don’t you make a portfolio of drawings and paintings about one town? About Garrett?” That Etta was saying this to a man she didn’t know stopped them all in place. Even Max halted, fork to mouth.

Henry just smiled. “I don’t stay in one place for long.”

“But you could. You could rent a room from Martha.”

Even Henry was taken aback by this. “I can’t... I don’t...” He didn’t seem to know what to say.

Etta looked at Martha. “Since this is your town, you know more about it than anyone. You could tell the history and Alice can write it down.”

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