Page 116 of My Heart Will Find You

Etta couldn’t pull her eyes away from her mother.

Lillian stood up. “You’re Henrietta?”

Etta swallowed. Her mother always used her full name.

In that moment, Etta remembered how her mother had always been the one to take care of them. “You’ll take on my job,” she’d said days before she died. “I hope they don’t dump it all on you, but they will.” She’d taken Etta’s hand. “Find your own life, my darling daughter. That’s my wish for you.”

Lillian stopped in front of Etta. They were the same height, had the same bone structure, but then Etta had always looked like her mother. “Where do you want to go? What do you need?”

“To the...” Etta cleared her throat. “Where the Kanzas are.”

Lillian nodded. “I know where that is. Come on.” She led the way out of the house.

As though she were a child, Etta followed, then stood back while Lillian took over. Max had ordered that horses be kept ready in case they were needed, so they were saddled.

Lillian climbed onto one, then motioned for Etta to mount a big black horse that was prancing about. Maybe it smelled the smoke that could be seen in the distance.

“I can’t,” Etta said. “I can’t ride this animal.”

“Get on!” It was her mother’s voice, the woman who never let Etta admit defeat. She obeyed.

Lillian was a good horsewoman, and Etta worked to keep up with her. She struggled to hold on while her mind ran with thoughts.Henry!She tried to mentally connect with him.Get Max. Tell him to come.

It didn’t take long to reach the little village. As Etta feared, the tribes were facing each other, bows and rifles at the ready.

Max was almost to the house when he saw one of the kids from Kecklin riding toward him. “Did you get fed?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“Good. Go help fill the barrels.”

The young man turned away but then looked back. “Mr. Lawton?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry to say this, sir, but your wife said she was going to go see Lester.”

“Why?” Max asked.

“I don’t know.” The young man looked almost scared, but that was a frequent expression of people who worked for John Kecklin. Max was still staring at him. “I asked her if there was going to be another party, and she said to tell you that she was going to go see Lester. Maybe she wants to see the Cheyenne.”

“They’re here?”

“Yes, sir. They rode through town this morning. They’re a fine looking bunch of—” He didn’t finish because Max had kicked his horse into a run.

Etta and Lillian sat on the horses, side by side. They were an equal distance between the two tribes. The Cheyenne were in full, glorious battle gear, while the Kanzas were in everyday clothing. Quite the contrast.

“We’ll stay here,” Lillian said, and she pulled on the reins so her horse stepped back.

But Etta dismounted. She was going to do whatever was necessary to stop this from happening.

She faced the Cheyenne. “This is my fault,” she said loudly. “I’m the one who helped with the buffalo. I’m the one to blame.”

From the back, one of the young Cheyenne men, a teenager, lifted his bow and arrow and took aim. Etta didn’t see him but she felt the tension in the air. The Kanzas were behind her, and the Cheyenne in front, all of them nervous in anticipation. To her right, she saw a movement. It was Lester, the chief, a man she knew to be knowledgeable and calm no matter what. She turned to look at him, glad he was there.

In that instant, Max arrived at full speed. He saw what no one else did: the boy in the back, ready and aiming at Etta.

Max leaped down from his horse while it was still running, and he launched himself in front of Etta.

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