Page 113 of My Heart Will Find You

“Me?” Alice said. “I don’t know how to write.”

“Of course you do,” Etta said. She looked back at Henry. “You should go to New York and get your bookpublished. Like George Catlin did. You can’t just leave your work behind. It’ll be lost forever. It won’t survive unless it’s published.”

Everyone was looking at Etta is astonishment. She was being very aggressive. Rude, even.

Cornelia broke the silence. “I think that’s a good idea.” She looked at Henry. “Your art is excellent. You could—”

Etta cut her off, giving Cornelia an intense look. “You need to design a building, something so beautiful that it will last forever. A church, maybe. Make it of stone so it won’t burn down. Pat will help build it. He’s a true artist. And get your father to pay for it. He wants his name to live forever, so tell him the church will do that. He doesn’t need a whole town, just one glorious building.”

They were staring at Etta in what could only be described as shock. She was bossing all of them around. Planning their entire lives.

Alice was the one who broke into their silence. She laughed loudly. “I’m next,” she said cheerfully. “What plan do you have for me?”

“Schools that will draw settlers here. Families, not just saloons.” She glanced at Max and Bert. “As much as they’re liked, they won’t last.”

“Freddy will design a garden for Cornelia’s church,” Alice said.

“Yes, of course,” Cornelia said. “This chicken is delicious.”

With relief, everyone turned their attention to the food, and they avoided looking at Etta.

She knew she’d overstepped, but she couldn’t tell them what she knew. A windswept plain was all that was left where the house stood now, and it had devoured the town. Worse was that there would be nothing left to remember any of these people. How could they so completely disappear?

She didn’t say much for the rest of the meal, and no one spoke of building houses, or stone churches, or schools. Nor did they mention how Etta had warned of a Cheyenne attack that never came. It seemed all right for her to instigate love matches, but she was to stay out of the rest of it.

When everyone started to leave, they were subdued, rather formal.

At the door, Henry said, “I will think about what you said.”

Martha looked at Etta and shook her head. “You are a strange woman,” she said, then left the house.

Cornelia took Etta’s hand in hers. “I’ve never had anyone believe in me as much as you do. Thank you.”

“That means a lot to me.”

“Come over tomorrow and I’ll give you some chickens.”

“I’d like that.”

Cornelia kissed her cheek and left.

Bert shook Etta’s hand. “I like your idea. I think Cornelia should do it.”

“So do I,” Etta said. He’d made her feel better.

Pat paused at the door. “Thank you for believing that I can make something besides horseshoes.”

“I just told the truth,” Etta said.

Alice hugged her. “I think I’ll try writing about our family.” She hurried to her room. They all knew she would slip out the back and meet Pat in private.

Alone, Max turned to Etta. “Let’s go to bed.”

“I need to clean up.”

“That will be taken care of.” When they were alone in their bedroom, he turned to her.

“I put my foot into it,” she said. “I was too bossy.”

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