Chapter Nine

The polka ended, giving the dancers a few seconds to cool down before the music started again. The next song had a much slower tempo, an easier pace, a song for slow-dancing. Heyes couldn't have been much happier or more content than he was at that moment. He had Charlotte right where he wanted her, in his arms, and he intended to keep her there for just a while longer. In fact, using the pressure of his hand on the small of her back, he pulled her even closer, until there was just a breath of space between them. He could feel her hair on his cheek and smell her perfume. She smelled just as he imagined she would, clean like soap with a fragrance that reminded him of orange blossoms. He inhaled of her deeply, closing his eyes, allowing himself to immerse himself in her scent for a few short seconds.

When he opened his eyes, he was startled to see her looking up at him, amusement making her eyes sparkle enchantingly. "What were you thinking of just then, Mr. Heyes?"

"Orange blossoms," he said. "I was thinking how sweet the air is when the orange trees are in bloom. I can almost smell them now."

"Um, sounds nice. I've never experienced that myself. I've never lived anywhere else but here. My life has been very dull compared to yours, I suspect."

"Oh, I doubt if you'd ever be accused of being dull. And my life is not something I'd wish on anyone; my life before, at least." His voice betrayed a hint of melancholy that made her heart constrict. She looked into his eyes, searching for some indication of what he was feeling, but if he was feeling anything but happy, his eyes didn't reveal it.

"I'd like to bring you to California when the orange trees are in bloom some time," he said, looking back into her eyes. "I have some people there who I think you'd find very interesting. Not a dull one in the bunch."

"Tell me about them."

"You want me to tell you about them?"

"Yes. I'd love to hear about the people who've influenced you."

He laughed, delighted by her curiosity, but not surprised by it; she was a school teacher, after all. "I'll tell you…but only if you agree to take a walk with me. It's a lovely evening outside; and a little warm in here, don't you think?"

She hesitated momentarily and Heyes knew she was thinking about what others would think about her taking a walk alone with him. He also knew that she hated herself for worrying about it. "I'd be honored to walk with you, Mr. Heyes," she said, finally, her feelings winning out over respectability.

Releasing her hand from his own, Heyes offered her his arm, bowing slightly from the waist, and with her tacit permission, led her off the dance floor, past the refreshment table, and through the big double doors at the rear of the hall out into the cool night air. They walked in companionable silence for a little while, passing other couples who had had the same idea as Heyes and Charlotte.

"So teach me," she said.

"What?" he replied, not comprehending.

"Tell me about California and the people who live there."

"Oh, that," he laughed. "Well, let's see. There's Jim Santana and Clara Philips. Now they're an interesting couple. He was the leader of the Devil's Hole Gang before I took it over, and then again for a little while after Kid and I decided to go for the amnesty. Jim is a fearsome man, the perfect man to keep a band of rowdy and incorrigible outlaws in line actually."

"And you?"

"Me?" he said, wondering if he would ever be able to learn to figure out where her questions were going.

"How did you keep a band of incorrigible outlaws in line? You are many things, Hannibal, but fearsome doesn't seem to be one of them."

He laughed, unexpectedly pleased by her use of his Christian name, before saying, "I wasn't always this way, Charlotte. There have been times and places that I'm sure even you would have found me fearsome; if for no other reason than I always had Kid at my side."

She studied his face quietly for a few seconds, believing him, knowing just by looking into his eyes that what he was saying was true; he could be fearsome, at the right time and in the right circumstances. She also knew that she'd like to talk more about that with him sometime, but this was neither the right time nor the right circumstances.

"And her? Mrs. Philips?"

"Clara Philips is a perfect match for Big Jim. She tricked me into taking her into Devil's Hole on the pretense of looking for her husband there, when all she really wanted to do was get revenge—kill—a man who had taken advantage of her and stolen several thousands of dollars of her jewelry."

"Oh my. She sounds very treacherous."

"She truly was, and very single-minded." Heyes remembered how determined Clara was to kill Henderson. If he and Jim hadn't been there, she would have succeeded. "Then there's Alice Banyon and Gunther, another interesting couple. She tried running off with a hundred thousand dollars worth of gold bars, the loot from a robbery."

"She was an outlaw?"

"Not exactly. She was just trying to capitalize on some information she got from a friend of ours who had been part of a bunch who stole the gold and ended getting hung for his crime. Everything turned out fine though. She came to her senses finally and the four of us ended up splitting the reward for returning the loot."

"Fascinating. You've met some very exciting women, haven't you?"

"None nearly as exciting as—as you might think, Charlotte."

"Mr. Heyes—"

"Please. Just Heyes, all right? Or Hannibal, like you said before. Mr. Heyes is too formal. I think we know each other too well for so much formality, don't you?"

"Oh, I don't know. I don't feel like I really know you at all. And I'm sure you don't know me as well as you'd like to believe."

"Really? Well then, tell me. Tell me all about Charlotte."

"Alright then. I DO feel like I need to tell you something, Heyes. I don't want you to get the wrong idea, but please don't think me too forward if I've misjudged your feelings."

Heyes felt his heart sink in his chest, sure he already knew what she was going to tell him before she even said a word. "You can tell me anything, Charlotte."

"All right then…I've been a teacher for a long time, Heyes. It's all I've ever wanted to be."

"I think that's admirable."

"Let me finish please. I've had—opportunities—before to have a different type of life, but I've always declined because I have everything I want right now. I love sharing my knowledge and love of learning with my children. There's nothing quite like the look on a young face when they realize there is nothing they can't achieve with the proper education."

"Still admirable. But why are you telling me this? I'm glad you enjoy your work, Charlotte."

"But that's just my point—Teaching isn't just my work, Heyes. It's my life. It's the only thing I've ever wanted to do and I don't plan to ever stop being a teacher."

"All right," he said, slowly. Puzzled, he asked her, "I still don't understand, Charlotte. Why are you telling me all this?"

"Oh dear," she said, a frown creasing her forehead, "Maybe I have misjudged your feelings. Well, there's no going back now so I might as well just say it. Heyes, I would never leave my students to become some man's wife."

His eyes widened, her forthrightness taking him by surprise. A short laugh leapt to his lips. "That's alright," was all he managed to reply.

She looked at him uncertainly, the meaning of his words unclear to her. He added quickly, "Look, Charlotte, I'm not asking you to marry me."

"Of course not," she said, heat rising in her cheeks. "I wasn't implying—"

"But—if you were my wife—someday, I'd never ask you to stop being who you are."

"Oh," she answered, unable to come up with a more eloquent answer. "Well—"

"Let's not talk about that now. Let's just enjoy tonight. And take things as they come."

"Fine. But, I just have to say one more thing, just so we're both clear on what I mean." She took a deep breath. "It's been my experience that most men don't want their wives to work once their married. I just want you to know that I will always be a teacher."

"That's fair. Thank you for telling me, Charlotte. And for the record," he said, grasping her gently by her shoulders, turning her until she faced him squarely, "I'm not like 'most men.' Just so you know." The intensity of his stare was enough to make her breath catch in her throat, but it was the kiss that followed that made her heart hammer against her chest so hard she imagined he felt it too.

Kid stopped trying to even pretend that he was having a good time. He was at a dance when he couldn't dance and he wasn't feeling the least bit sociable. He considered leaving, but if he took the buggy then Heyes and Catherine would have no way to get home. His mind started drifting down the streets of town, wandering toward the saloon, wondering what Genevieve was doing tonight. A sad smile played across his lips as he imagined having her there with him, two outcasts at the church social. His mind was so far away from where he sat that he didn't notice Catherine until she was standing right in front of him. Jeremiah stood at her side, his hat in his hands in a respectful pose, smiling at Kid politely. Catherine wore a brilliant smile of her own; her face flushed by the excitement of the dance and the attention of a young man.

Embarrassed to be caught lost in thoughts of Genevieve, Kid stood up hastily, not wanting to be towered over by the young man standing next to his daughter. Catherine reached out to offer her arm to her father, increasing, without intention, his embarrassment. He pretended not to see her, choosing instead to use his cane. She was so happy, she didn't notice. "Pa. You remember Jeremiah? Jeremiah Wilde?"

Jeremiah extended his hand, "Nice to see you again, Mr. Curry."

Kid took the younger man's hand and nodded. "Yeah," he replied, wondering what was so nice about it.

"Pa, I was just telling Jeremiah about how you and Uncle Heyes are short-handed on the ranch right now, and by coincidence, Jeremiah just happens to be looking for a new job. Isn't that great?"

Kid frowned, wondering what was so great about it. He knew where Catherine was going with her comments, but he didn't think he wanted young Jeremiah working on the ranch, so close to his even younger daughter. He started to think that maybe he wasn't cut out for this fatherhood role he had so recently found himself in; being a gunfighter was starting to seem like a cakewalk in comparison. "I thought you were working for Oldsen down at the feed store," he asked Jeremiah.

"Yes, sir, but that was only temporary; until I could find some ranch work."

"You've done ranch work before?"

"Sure, plenty."

"Where was your last job?" Kid's questions were short and to the point.

"I worked for your neighbor, Mr. Denton, before I started helping out Mr. Oldsen."

Kid felt the muscles between his shoulder blades stiffen at the mention of Denton's name. "Why'd you leave?"

Jeremiah's eyes shifted away from Kid's. Kid thought he read guilt in his expression but his next words made him wonder if the emotion he'd glimpsed in Jeremiah's face was more akin to embarrassment for having to speak poorly of his past employer. "Well'uh…Mr. Denton and I just had a difference of opinion on a couple of things."

"Oh? You have trouble following directions, young fella?"

Jeremiah's look was one of wide-eyed innocence. "No, sir, not at all…It's just that…well, some of the things Mr. Denton wanted me to do…they just didn't seem right, is all."

"Like what?"

Jeremiah shifted uneasily under the weight of Kid Curry's ice cold stare. "Uh, if it's all the same to you, sir, I'd rather not say."

"Things that are against the law?" Kid pressed.

"I'd rather not say, sir."

Catherine interrupted before her father could continue his questioning. "Pa! Please, can we talk about this later? We brought Jeremiah over to see you because I knew you needed help and he needs a job. It's perfect!"

Kid looked at his daughter; the young woman who he didn't even know existed for much of her life. But now that she was in his life and here, he felt a huge responsibility to protect her. And right now, he couldn't think of any bigger threat to her safety and purity than Jeremiah Wilde. But her eyes beseeched him, her words begged him, and he found his resolve weakening. He was on the verge of agreeing to take Jeremiah on when a small measure of common sense returned. But he couldn't find the words to refuse her outright; he decided to let Heyes do that. "I'm sorry Catherine. Before I agree to hire someone, I'll need to run it past Heyes first."

"Oh, I'm sure it'll be fine with him," she said excitedly.

"Maybe. Don't get your hopes up too high. Heyes can be hard to live with sometimes." Kid scowled darkly, barely keeping the growl out of his voice when he said to Jeremiah, "Be at the ranch tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock. You can talk to Heyes then."

Jeremiah's smile broadened into a grin. He shook Kid's hand vigorously. "Thank you, sir. You won't regret it."

Catherine hugged her father happily, "Thank you, pa." Then, she and Jeremiah turned away, heading back to the dance floor.

Kid called after them, his voice lost beneath the strains of another lively polka, "I said, don't get your hopes up." He sighed unhappily and sank heavily back into his chair, leaning his forehead on the crown of his cane, and muttered, "Can this evening get any worse?"