Page 26 of My Heart Will Find You

“Sorry. I forget that people don’t know the details. That date is when Marshal Earp escaped jail. He was very young. Dad said he was falsely accused by some woman but then Dad is biased. Anyway, if Wyatt hadn’t escaped, he probably wouldn’t have become the legend that he is. Can you imagine American history without the O.K. Corral gunfight? What would Hollywood do? And where would his buddy Doc Holliday be without him?”

When Henry spoke, his voice was low. “I’ve heard of Doc Holliday. He was a dentist and a gambler. He died of TB.”

“That’s him. He and Marshal Earp were great friends.”

“Etta,” Henry said slowly, “I’ve written many books about the Old West, but I’ve never heard of anyone named Wyatt Earp.”

“That’s ridiculous. You mean you’ve never seen the movieTombstone?”

“No. Never. And I’ve never heard of the O.K. Corral.”

“Billy Clanton? He was killed and later his brother Ike filed a murder charge against Wyatt, Morgan, and Virgil. And against Doc too. They were all acquitted, but things didn’t go well there for Marshal Earp so he moved to Dodge City.”

“In Kansas.”

“Yes, of course,” she said impatiently. “Boot Hill and all that.”

“Etta.” Henry spoke so slowly it was a three syllable word. “Did you dream about this man? Was he part of your fantasy? Maybe you made your husband into a lawman.”

Senile, Etta thought.Henry has the beginnings of Alzheimer’s.She’d seen no sign of it before now, but it must have been here. He couldn’t remember computer things, and he’d misplaced his reading glasses more than once. “Maybe I did,” she said in that placating way youngsters used on seniors. “You want something to eat?”

“No. I’m fine.” Henry’s voice was a bit distant. Older peoplenevergot used to the way young people assumed their minds no longer worked. Hit sixty and you’re considered incompetent. Of no worth to anyone.

Etta practically ran from the room. It was the closest she and Henry had come to a disagreement. But really! This man, a so-called historian, said he’d never heard of one of the most well-known men on earth. People in Antarctica had probably heard of Wyatt Earp. He was the main character in dozens of movies and books. In legends.

She went to the kitchen, turned on the electric kettle, and prepared to make tea. As she put out the cookies she’d baked that afternoon, she was making vows. She would not treat Henry any differently because... Well, because his mind was going. It happened. The mistake was that she’d forgotten that he was an old man. His father had fought in World War II. Henry went to high school in the sixties.

It looked like his health problems weren’t just physical but also mental.

She vowed to be nicer to him, kinder. Poor man. All those books written, and he could no longer remember their content.

She started to pick up the tray but then set it down. She texted her father.

Mr. Logan has never heard of Wyatt Earp. I think you better finish your book fast and inform the world.

She took the tray into the library, pushed aside some books, and set it on the coffee table. “I apologize for earlier,” she said. “I overstepped. It’s just my dad’s obsession with some obscure historical figure. It’s made me think everyone knows about him.” She paused. “Have you written any biographies?”

“One or two.” He poured himself a cup of tea and said no more.

Etta tried not to sigh. She didn’t want there to be tension between them. When her phone pinged for a text, she was relieved. Maybe her dad had answered. Surely, he’d be as shocked as she was. Someone who had never heard of Wyatt Earp? How could that be?

Smiling in anticipation, she picked up her phone. Never heard of him, her father’s text read.

Henry, moving the fastest she’d ever seen him go, caught her before she went down. He practically pushed her into the chair, took her phone from her, and read the text.

He did a web search of the name of Wyatt Earp, then showed her that there was no such entry anywhere. The man didn’t exist.

“I don’t feel well,” Etta said. “I’m going to lie down.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” He supported her until they reached the stairs. He started to go up with her, but she said no.

Feeling dizzy and weak, she went up the stairs to Ben’s bedroom. Spread out on top of the trunk was the little lace jacket. She picked it up and hugged it to her. Something was really, reallywrong. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she knew that it had something to do with that blasted dream.

She fell down onto the bed, curled up, holding the jacket. “I wish I’d never had that dream,” she whispered. “I wish it had never happened. Wish I’d...” She fell asleep.

“I think she’s coming around,” Alice said. “Miss Wilmont, are you all right?”

“Her name’s Lawton now,” a man said.

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