Page 4 of My Heart Will Find You

“Could I offer you a job?” he asked.

She looked at him. “Babysitting?”

“Exactly. The house is empty.” There was a little hiccup of loneliness in his voice. “It would be yours. I stay in the house Caroline made for me. There are no stairs.” He raised an eyebrow. “Did I hear you say you cook?”

She smiled. “I do. Not fancy, but it tastes good. For the last few years, I’ve worked with a man on a food truck. Lester loves change so we get creative.” She frowned. “He tripped over his grandson’s Lego set and broke his leg. He shut down the truck for the whole summer so I’m on my own.”

“Which is why you were going to visit your sister.”

“Yes.” She sighed. “But now I can’t get there.”

“Stay and cook with me. I’ll do the laundry if you help me rehang the clothesline.”

She didn’t know if he was kidding or not, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t have a lot of choices.

However, she dreaded telling Alicia what she was doing. Her sister would say, “You moved in with some man you don’t evenknow?” For that, she’d use her how-could-you-do-something-so-stupid voice.

She looked at Henry. “Maybe I could...” She nodded to the house.

“Look around? Ascertain whether or not I’m a predator?”

She tried not to laugh, but didn’t succeed. “For all you know, I could be one of the Benders.”

At that Henry laughed loudly. In 1870s Kansas, there was an incestuous family of serial killers named Bender. They invited people in, murdered them in particularly nasty ways, then fertilized their garden with the bodies. After their treachery was discovered, they became known as the Bloody Benders. In spite of thousands of hunts, they escaped capture. Not one of them was ever found.

“You’re a history lover like me,” Henry said. His eyes were full of delight, as though he’d found his new best friend.

Smiling, Etta followed him inside. The interior wasn’t what she’d expected. Maybe she’d seen too many historic houses where the owner tried to stay true to the time period. In Henry’s house there were no hard, horsehair sofas, no lace curtains, no frilly porcelain ornaments.

The pretty entryway was painted a pale blue. To the right and left were two small living rooms. One was a comfy TV room with a chintz sofa. The one on the right was more formal. It had Japanese prints and pieces of Asian lacquerware.

“The rooms are lovely. I like everything.” She nodded at a lacquer cabinet. “Caroline’s touch?”

“Oh yes. She lived in Japan for a year and bought some nice pieces.”

Farther down to the left was a more formal room. It was large, with a huge built-out bay window with a deep seat. It was done in blue and white, like a country estate.

On every surface were framed photos, drawings, and even paintings, of Henry’s family. She picked up one. “You and your wife?” He nodded. Martha and Henry were laughing together. She was a big, strong-looking woman, more handsome than pretty. Ben was a cute boy, and he’d grown up to be a good-looking man. There were wedding photos of him and Caroline. She was very pretty, blonde, and her energy came through the picture. “Let me guess,” Etta said. “He’s quiet and she’s fireworks on a stick.”

“You got it perfectly.”

When they left the room, Etta expected Henry to open the closed double doors that were across the hall, but he didn’t. She followed him to the big stairs. To the left was Caroline’s office, a well-lit room with big windows. All very neat and tidy. Very organized.

Henry stopped in the hall. “When Caroline redid the house, the only walls she tore out on this floor were back here. There were four rooms to the kitchen, with pantries and a staircase for the servants. My mother hated it all.”

“What about Martha?”

“As far as I know, my wife had no idea where the kitchen was.”

Etta laughed. “So Caroline redid the four rooms?”

“Oh, did she!”

When they reached the kitchen, Etta drew in her breath. It was the kind she’d dreamed of.

Along the back wall was a big sink, a wide fridge, and a six burner Wolf gas cooktop. Two ovens were separate. One could hold a thirty-pound turkey and the other was smaller and would heat up quickly. Open shelves were above.

In front of the long counter was a tall oak table. No fancy stone-topped island but a table that looked like it had seen a lot of use. A giant copper pot and baskets full of oils and wine were below. There was a door with windows that looked outside to a shaded area.

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