Chapter Four

Charlotte Meets Prometheus

Outside, Heyes headed towards the barn. His filly, the one who had thrown him earlier, had been returned to her stall, most likely by their ranch-hand, Clay. Heyes and Charlotte passed her and the other horses in the barn. He continued to lead her through the door at the far end of the barn that opened out onto two corrals. The larger, main corral stood empty but the smaller corral held a single horse.

The large animal was pacing restlessly inside the fence but stopped moving when Heyes and Charlotte came into view. He turned his massive head to watch them as they approached the corral. Heyes could see the wariness in his large, black eyes, as though he was deciding whether or not to trust them.

He was uniformly gray except for a star-shaped white marking on his face and white socks on both his front feet. His head was larger than that of most of the quarter horses she'd ever seen. Well-muscled through the shoulders and upper legs, he was indeed a magnificent animal.

"He's beautiful," Charlotte breathed.

"Yes," Heyes replied simply.

"May I touch him?"

"Well, that's up to him. Sometimes he'll let me approach him without complaint, but sometimes he shies away."

Charlotte slowly, and a little fearfully, reached her hand out to the horse in a non-aggressive manner. The horse chuffed the air, exhaling noisily through his nostrils, his leathery lips drawn back slightly in what looked like a frown; then, deciding she was all right, stepped close enough to Charlotte so that her fingers could lightly caress his velvety nose.

"He likes you," Heyes said quietly. "He's got good taste."

Charlotte glanced quickly at Heyes, smiling at his almost-a-compliment. "I like him too. What's his name?"

"Well, the man I got him from called him Damned Devil. And I haven't decided what to call him yet…but I'm definitely going to call him something other than that."

Charlotte laughed, quietly as not to startle the horse. Her fingers had now moved up his head to rub along his face. "So beautiful," she repeated.

"And unpredictable and dangerous, don't forget that," he warned.

"He doesn't seem dangerous now," she argued.

"I guess that's what makes him unpredictable. I'm sure that if you asked the fella I bought him from, he'd agree."

"Well, he needs a name. You can't expect to train him otherwise, can you?"

"No, I don't suppose. Any suggestions?"

"Hmmm…given his reputation for being rebellious, how about—Prometheus?" she said.

"Ah, the rebel god…I like it! Prometheus, it is then."

"I see you know your Greek mythology. I'm impressed. But then, I don't know why I should be surprised, considering your library." Her mention of the library seemed to remind her of how much of the afternoon had passed since she first picked Heyes up on the road. "It's getting late and I've taken up enough of your time. I'd best be getting on my way," she said, regretfully.

"I've enjoyed every minute of our visit, Miss Gray, but I agree that you should be going, before it gets too late. We don't want you out driving by yourself after dark."

"That's true, although it wouldn't be the first time," she said. "Before I go though, could I ask you a favor?"

"Name it."

"Could you please call me Charlotte? Miss Gray is what my students call me. My friends call me Charlotte."

"Then I'd be honored to be counted among your friends, Charlotte, thank you. My friends call me Heyes."

"Just Heyes? You don't have a first name?" she asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

"Sure, I have a first name. But it's a mouthful. Heyes is easier."

"Your first name is Hannibal, isn't it?"

He nodded, knowing she probably picked up his first name from seeing it in print somewhere during his outlaw days. He was surprised to realize that it bothered him a little bit to know that. After all, it was no secret around these parts that he had been an outlaw. But he preferred Charlotte not to associate him with being crooked.

"Hannibal…Hannibal…Hannibal." She repeated his name several times, as though rolling it over her tongue, tasting the syllables as she spoke them, drawing out different parts of the name each time she said it, as though looking for the perfect pronunciation.

In the end, she frowned. "You're right, it is a mouthful."

He shrugged.

Then she surprised him. "Do you mind if I call you that sometimes anyway? Maybe when I'm not in a hurry and have time to get all the syllables out? I sort of like it."

He laughed, strangely delighted by her words. "Why not? It might be nice to have someone call me that again occasionally…when you're not in a hurry." Remembering the woman who had named him Hannibal, the only woman in his life who had ever used the name consistently, made him momentarily sad but he pushed those memories to the back of his mind and concentrated on the woman standing next to him today.

"Wonderful," she smiled. "Now I really must be going."

Heyes and Charlotte retraced their steps, chatting amiably as they made their way back to his office. The stack of books she had chosen was still on the desk where she had left them. He scooped them up and the two of them walked together to the front door.

"Charlotte," Heyes began, his face thoughtful, "before you go, I wonder if I might ask you something?"

"Of course, Heyes."

Before he could continue, the front door opened. Heyes felt a momentary flash of irritation at the interruption. The irritation vanished when he saw Kid and a young woman, whom he recognized immediately as an almost grown Catherine, come through the door. His face lit up, delighted to see her, and he hurried over to wrap her in an affectionate hug, passing the stack of books he was holding into Kid's hands, forcing him to awkwardly juggle Catherine's bag, the books, and his cane. Heyes was so excited to greet the girl that he didn't notice the less-than thrilled look on his partner's face.

"Catherine, it's so good to see you. Did you have a good trip?"

"Oh yes, thank you," she answered with a big smile.

"Kid, Catherine, this is Charlotte Gray. Charlotte is the school teacher in town," he added for Catherine's benefit. "Charlotte, I believe you know Jed Curry. And this is his daughter, Catherine. Catherine will be staying with us for a while."

Kid thrust the books back at Heyes, freeing up one hand that he used to tip his hat in Charlotte's direction. Heyes, in turn, handed them to Charlotte. She thanked him again for letting her borrow them, and added, "I'd like to loan a couple of them to one or two of my more responsible students after I'm finished reading them, if you don't mind?" She tossed a hopeful glance toward Heyes.

"Absolutely, keep them as long as you'd like," Heyes assured her.

"Uh, well, I'd better show Catherine where her room is," Kid said awkwardly. He was looking at his partner questioningly.

"You do that, Kid, and I'll walk Charlotte to her buggy," Heyes said. "Catherine, I'm glad you're here. Welcome to our home."

"Thank you, Mr. Heyes."

Kid and Catherine went upstairs to get the girl settled, and Heyes and Charlotte walked outside. Standing next to her buggy, Charlotte suddenly remembered that Heyes had been about to ask her a question before Kid and his daughter arrived. "You were going to ask me something?"

"Hm? Oh, right. I was."

She smiled as she looked back at him with interest.

"Well…" He hesitated ever so slightly, and then said, "I'm sure you know about the church social next Saturday?"

She laughed, "Well, yes. As a matter of fact, I'm one of the organizers."

"Oh. Yes, of course, that makes sense. Anyway, I was thinking…if you don't already have a date…would you like to come with me?"

"Oh," she paused and looked slightly uncomfortable. "Well, I will be there, of course, but I wasn't planning on having an escort."

"I'd be honored if you'd let me," Heyes continued, hopefully.

"Thank you, Heyes. But I'm sorry, I don't think so. Please don't misunderstand—I would love to go as your date, but I'm sure I'll have so much to do that evening, what with everything—"

"It's alright. You don't have to explain. I understand."

She smiled, a little sadly, Heyes thought (or was it pity?). Then she looked away, as though suddenly feeling awkward. She put the books on the floor of the buggy and gathered her skirts around her in order to pull herself up onto the bench seat. Ever the gentleman, Heyes put his hands on her waist and boosted her up. She felt a tingle where he touched her, even through the layers of fabric that lay between his fingers and her skin.

She looked down at him. He noticed her face was a bit flushed and assumed it was because she was embarrassed at having to reject his invitation. Not wanting her to feel bad, he smiled up at her kindly, squinting into the late afternoon sun. "Goodbye, Charlotte. And enjoy the books."

"Thank you, Heyes. I will. And please, let me know how it goes with Prometheus."

"I will."

He watched until she drove off their property, then he turned and walked back into the house. Kid was sitting, alone, in the parlor. "Where's Catherine?" he asked.

"Upstairs. Getting ready for dinner. She's had a long day."

Heyes looked alarmed, "Dinner?"

"Awww, Heyes. Don't tell me you forgot to make dinner?"

"Don't be silly." He laughed, unconvincingly. "Anyway, I'm sure there's some leftover chicken in the icebox."

Kid sighed deeply. "Leftovers? On her first night here? I told her you were making dinner."

"Don't worry, Kid. It'll be fine."

"What was she doing out here anyway?"

"Who?"

"Charlotte Gray. What was she doing here?"

"My horse threw me. She picked me up on the road and gave me a ride home, if you must know. What's the matter, Kid?"

"I don't know. Nothing."

"I know you better than that. Something's bothering you. What is it?"

"Nothing. Just—I don't know—she just doesn't seem like the kind of woman you'd be interested in."

"Who says I'm interested."

"Come on, Heyes. I know YOU better than that. I can tell, that's all."

"Well, so what if I was?" he said defensively. "She's a nice woman. She's smart and friendly; and I think we have a lot in common."

"But Heyes, she's just so…" He wanted to comment on the woman's plainness—how she didn't seem to be as pretty as the women he was used to seeing Heyes attracted to, but something in his partner's eyes made him reconsider.

"What, Kid?" Heyes snapped.

"Nothing, Heyes. Forget I said anything."

Heyes inhaled deeply. After a few seconds, he said, "I found another section of fence line down today."

"You did? Where was that?"

"Out north. Just west of the dry wash. Hard to tell what happened. The posts look like they should have stood, but could be they just weren't set in properly."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Heyes clapped his hands together, "Well," he said, dismissing their conversation, "So are you going to help me get dinner ready or what? Let's show Catherine that her old dad and his devastatingly handsome partner know how to whip up a real meal."

Kid pushed himself up out of his chair, using the cane for leverage. Heyes followed him into the kitchen. He found himself staring at Kid's hair. "Been to see old Jim again, I see. Nice haircut," he said sarcastically.

Kid shot him a cold glance over his shoulder. "What's wrong with it?" he challenged.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Then barely audible, "I'm sure it'll grow out in no time."