Page 25 of My Heart Will Find You

But no. Someone had cleared away the past. There wasn’t anything before the 1950s. After a thorough vacuuming, she asked Henry why it had been purged.

“That would be my mother. If something was two years old, it was too old for her. She wanted a one-story, new ranch house, but my dad said, ‘My old house and I are one. Take us both or neither.’”

“Harsh,” Etta said, “but I’m glad he did it.”

The truth behind Etta’s restlessness was that The Dream never left her mind. It was still as clear as the day she’d awakened from it. When she saw Freddy through the window, sometimes Etta would envision her as having heavily rouged cheeks and a dress that showed her bare shoulders. Was Freddy now in that other reality doing what she did to survive? It was a shame since Freddy was good in a garden. Her produce was top-notch.

Etta had met the neighbor, Sophie, only once, but she felt she knew the woman. Certainly knew her voice! Etta asked Henry questions about her stage fright.

“She’s all right in church but put her on a stage even in a high school and she chokes.”

Sophie had gone to stay with her sister for the lockdown. As for the other neighbors, the houses were closed so tightly it was like a barricade.

“Besides,” Henry said, “houses here are bought and sold so often I don’t know any of the people in them. Sorry, but it’s just us.” He smiled at her. “And I’m very, very glad you’re here.”

She was pleased that Henry wasn’t alone. He read all the emails and texts from his son and daughter-in-law to her. And they sent photos. Caro was holding the baby and smiling in deep pleasure. The picture of Ben with the baby made Henry teary. “My grandchild,” he whispered. “I never thought I’d live long enough to see one.”

Etta put her arms around him. It was great that he loved his family so much.

Most of the time he spent in his library trying to complete his story about The Dream. “It could go several ways,” he said. “Henrietta and the man could fall madly in love or they could part forever.”

“Make it modern and have the heroine and Alice have an affair.”

“Sounds good except thatIam not modern. What did you come up with for Alice’s future?”

“You’re the creative one, not me. I’d just look for Phillip and invite him to dinner. When my sister met him, I thought she was going to rip his clothes off.”

“I remember those days. Now I’d be exhausted after five minutes.”

“Come on! You’d last at least eight minutes.”

Henry laughed. It was evening and they were in his library, as always, and Etta had worked enough during the day to settle down. She’d read about a dozen history books by Henry and other authors. They both knew she was looking for any mention of Garrett, Kansas. Other than in the ghost town book, there was nothing.

“If I had a car,” she said, “I’d defy this lockdown and go see it. It’s just a few hours south of here.”

“There’s nothing there.”

“I know, but maybe I’d find an old beer bottle or something. There were certainly enough saloons.”

“Tombstone, Arizona, had a hundred and ten saloons.” His mind was full of obscure facts that could win any trivia contest.

“Speaking of that,” she said, “tonight let’s watchTombstone. It’s one of my dad’s favorite movies.”

Henry didn’t look up. He said movies were so historically inaccurate that he didn’t watch many of them. “What’s it about?”

“Wyatt Earp. There were other people in the movie, but that’s the only person my dad cares about.”

Henry looked up. “I’ve narrowed it down to about three years.” She knew he meant her dream.

“It’s been a challenge, but your mention of a train helped. I’d say it was 1871 or two. Maybe 1870. It could be three but I don’t think so.”

Etta smiled. “Eighteen seventy-one. That’s my father’s year of celebration. One time he had me bake him a chocolate cake for the third of May, but I’m sure you know about that.”

Henry was looking at her with interest. “Your father studied that year?”

“Avidly. He’s been trying to write the definitive bio of Marshal Earp. I don’t think he’ll finish it. He just wants an excuse to read all there is about him. Dad wanted to name me Urilla after Wyatt’s wife, but Mom said no. They compromised with the old-fashioned Henrietta. Other kids got to watch cartoons, but I grew up watching DVDs of Marshal Earp.”

Henry’s eyebrows were going higher by the second. “Remind me of what happened on that date.”

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