Page 80 of My Heart Will Find You

Or she could continue with life.

Etta knew that no amount of tears would bring back Alice or Freddy or Rufus or...or...

She took a breath, her eyes closed. Nothing she could do would bring Max back to her.

What happened after I was no longer there?she wondered. Did Alice and Phillip and Nellie go to the train to meet her and she wasn’t there? Would they think she got off somewhere and ran away? They would be hurt and angry. Feel betrayed.

When Etta stood up, she was shaky, but she took a few deep breaths and walked to the bathroom. It was so big and shiny and clean that she looked at it in awe. She thought,Is all this necessary?

Her attitude almost made her smile. It was as though she was a time traveler coming forward and seeing modern conveniences as being too much.

When she removed her clothes, she glanced at herself in the mirror, then halted. Her body was different. Thanks to Phillip, she’d always kept in shape, but wagons and horses and a buffalo hunt had tightened her body. There was no longer any hint of “baby fat” on her.

Memories of what had caused her transformation almost crushed her, but she turned away, refusing to be taken down by what was in her mind.

She took a shower, using the gentle shampoo and the soft soap. But instead of enjoying it, she felt disgust at the waste. She much preferred a river.

And Max, she thought.I want Max.

She got out and dried herself with a towel of such softness that she looked at it in wonder.

Clean clothes were in the chest of drawers by the bed. She’d washed the few things she had with her after her attic visit. She made up the bed, straightened the room, and put Martha’s cookbooks on a shelf. As Etta held them, she wondered if Martha’s fried pie recipe was in one of them. Max had handed them out as they rode.

Dressed, Etta turned to go downstairs. Instead, she sat down on the edge of the bed. How was she going to play this with Henry? Did she tell him about this dream or not? Whereas the first one had been short and rather funny, there was little humor in the one she’d just experienced.

Well, maybe, the incident of Ben being mixed up with Phillip could be thought of as amusing. Alice’s “I hate you” wasn’t funny. But seen from the point of view of later, with a barefoot Alice and a shirtless Phillip beside the water, maybe it could elicit a laugh or two.

Etta leaned back on her arms and closed her eyes. The buffalo hunt and how important it was wasn’t cause for laughter. When she inhaled, she could almost smell those animals, feel the rumbling earth under her body.

That hunt would be what Henry would most want to hear about. Dream or not, he would want her to tell him about everything from the grass to what Lester was wearing.

She stood up. She’d have to play this by ear. Henry had enjoyed her first dream, but this one... Was it so real that it would make her seem insane? Would Henry be so shocked that he’d call Ben to come throw Etta out of his house?

All in all, she thought the best thing to do was to tell only bits of the dream. The funny parts. Lighthearted. Frivolous.

She stopped at the staircase. She’d tell Henry that in this dream he was an artist. That was close to being a writer, wasn’t it? Both were creative.

She started down the stairs. Remembering Henry as an artist led her to the memory of Max giving her the miniature portrait of them. It had been so perfect. The two of them and—

At the foot of the stairs, Etta halted and her eyes glazed over, sightless. The portrait. She’d told Max to hide it in the desk. Did he do it? Was it in there? If it was, would that mean things werereal?

“Good morning,” Henry said. “Did you sleep well?”

She looked at him in wide-eyed silence.

“You had another dream, didn’t you?” There was hope in his voice.

She nodded.

“Was it a good one? Was it longer? Who did you meet?”

When she spoke, it was a whisper. “He hid it inside the desk. I have to take your beautiful desk apart to find it. I’m sorry. I—”

“We’ll take an ax to it.” Henry started down the hall, his voice ringing over his shoulder. “We’ll use a chain saw if need be, except that I don’t have one. I’ll get my toolbox. There’s a short-handled sledgehammer somewhere. I’m sure I can still swing it.”

Etta hadn’t moved from the foot of the stairs. “It looks like Henry is going to get every word out of me,” she said to no one. She started running. “Don’t destroy anything. Max hid it. We just have to find it.”

She ran into the library and stopped in front of the big desk in the alcove. The last time she’d seen it, her father had been sitting there. Before that, Max was using it, which made her remember the men showing off for pretty Alice. She smiled in memory.

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