Page 21 of My Heart Will Find You

Henry put his hand to his heart. “You’ve never heard ofThe Harvey Girls? You and I have movies to watch.”

Etta picked up the books, gave one last look at the framed needlework, then followed Henry out.

It was later, when she was snuggled down in Ben’s bed for the night and looking at the cookbooks, that she thought more of the dream. It hadn’t faded in her mind at all. She could still see faces, and remember smells. Her body was still sore. From a rough wagon ride? Or sleepwalking?

As she looked at the historic cookbooks, she asked herself why she was bothering to read them.

Was she doing what Henry said and planning for when she returned?

But that was absurd. People didn’t repeat dreams. On the other hand, the whole world seemed to have had the dream of showing up somewhere in their underwear.

She put the books on the bedside table and turned off the light. Would she dream again? Part of her wanted to, but another part thought of turning on her iPad and watching a movie. Stay awake!

When she realized that what she most wanted to watch wasTombstone, which was set about the time she’d dreamed of, she closed her eyes tight.Sleep!she commanded herself.And no dreams.

4

The next morning, the smell of frying bacon woke her, and she took a moment to orient herself.

Was she in the past in the Lawton house? No. She saw Ben’s animal curtains. She was still in the present in Kansas City, still in Henry’s old house, still in lockdown.

When Etta got downstairs, Henry had breakfast waiting. “So what’s on for today?” he asked.

To her dismay, Etta felt a bit glum. Yesterday she’d awakened from The Dream. But nothing had happened last night. She had no new bruises, no increased soreness in her body.

Henry was watching her. “What time does your father get up?”

Etta was pushing scrambled eggs around on her plate. “He’s an early bird. He likes to work when the household is asleep.” He was staring at her so hard she could read his thoughts. “Oh! Good idea. I’ll call him.” She quickly finished her meal, then went back upstairs to call.

Thirty minutes later, she went down to the library, her good mood restored. She rattled off all to Henry. “We had a really good laugh about him being a preacher. He said he’d hate the job. Talking to all those people and listening to their problems. He hates that as much as Alicia loves it. She’s like a magnet for people’s misery. It would drive me crazy.”

“You’d feed them,” Henry said. “That would solve most of their problems.”

Etta laughed. “I would. If Alice is actually like Alicia,sheshould be the town’s preacher. People would line up to tell her their woes.”

“Alice? The young woman who sewed the sampler that’s on my bedroom wall?”

Etta squinted her eyes at him. “Yes, I mean the made-up woman who isn’t real.”

“Did you ask your father if you ever sleepwalked?”

Etta hesitated. “Yes, and he said I was always a good sleeper. Alicia was restless but I was like a...”

“A what?”

“A concrete block.”

Henry laughed. “We fathers pull no punches.”

She nodded to the dozen or so books piled around him. “Have you found any evidence that the people in my dream existed?”

“Not so far. I bet your sister would love to hear from you.”

Etta went to the door. “Yet another great idea.” She started down the hall.

“Ask her why she limps,” Henry called after her. “Was it an accident or something from birth?”

“How funny you are!” Etta called back to him.

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