Page 81 of My Heart Will Find You

Henry showed up at the doorway with a heavy red metal toolbox. She could see his heart was pounding, his face pale.

She took the box and led him to a chair by the window. “You direct and I’ll search.”

He was so out of breath he could only nod.

When she turned around, she gasped. The sides of the alcove were draped with heavy curtains, and she’d never stepped behind them. Along the far wall was an artist’s tall, slanted table. Beside it was a cabinet with drawers. On top were cups of colored pens and pencils, and tubes of watercolors. They were Winsor & Newton, the brand she’d bought for Nellie.

Etta took a chair next to Henry. “You’re an artist?”

He was breathing deeply, trying to calm his heart. “I illustrated all my books. I thought you knew that.”

“No, I didn’t.” She looked at him. “Who is Wyatt Earp?”

“Legendary lawman. Didn’t you say your father was writing a book about him?”

Etta had to work to keep from dissolving into tears. It appeared that she and Max haddoneit. Really and truly changed history. “He has movies? TV? Dodge City?”

“Yes,” Henry said impatiently. “I’ve had that big desk for years, but I don’t know of any secret compartment. Even when I carved it, I didn’t see anything.”

“Ah, right. You did the carving on the front.”

“I did. I had to disassemble the desk to get the back panel out, then I carved on it.” He was calmer now, and he turned to look at her. “This dream was different, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

He reached out and took her hand. “You don’t have to tell me any of it. If you’d rather keep it private, I respect that. I can—”

“I went on a buffalo hunt. With the Kanzas.”

Henry’s face so drained of color that all that could be seen was his mustache and his eyebrows.

“If you pass out, I’ll get so scared I won’t tell you anything,” she said sternly.

It was Henry’s turn to repeatedly swallow. He looked at the toolbox, then the desk, then at Etta.

His meaning was clear. Start searching!

He asked her to describe the size of what she was looking for and what it was. He nodded in understanding. “I’ve done some paintings like that.”

You did this one, she thought but didn’t say. There would be time for that later.

First, she took out all the drawers and lined them up in front of him. There were seven of them, each one packed full of things no one had seen in years. Etta had some of her father’s neatness gene, so she told Henry to sort it all out. She got his lap desk and a big trash bag, and one by one, handed him the contents of the drawers.

While he dealt with that, Etta went over every inch of the skeleton of the desk.

“You’re different,” Henry said as he tossed old receipts in the trash. “You’re quieter and you’re... How do I say this? Physically, you’re...”

Etta was under the desk, knocking on parts to see if there were any hollow areas. “Not as soft? Now I’m leaner and meaner?”

“Exactly.” Henry was looking astonished. “It defies the laws of nature that you could physically change overnight.”

“This time I was gone for days. And I went through some rough times. You should see me on a horse.”

“I think you should tell everything into a recording device.”

She stood up. “Because my storytelling is so abysmal?”

Henry looked like he was trying to come up with a lie but couldn’t. “Yes. But also, I want to hear about the hunt first—which is out of order.” He looked back at the papers. “What was the first thing you saw at the hunt?”

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