Thief of My Heart (Watty Awards Finalist 2012)

Chapter 10

"Really?  Seven feet tall?"  

"Yep."

"Indians?"

"Yep." 

 "But they weren't really redheaded?"

"Oh, no.  We figured out that there was something in the soil there that turned their hair red after they'd been buried in the caves."

The creak of saddle leather and the jingle of harness and tack created a melody of sorts as they rode together  on the back of the strong stallion they had both affectionately come to know as Rusty.  As Rusty carried them southward at a brisk walk, Evangeline thought about the story Joshua has just told her. How he and a young woman named Julia had found the remains of Indians, nearly seven feet tall with red hair, in some old caves near the Devil's Hole hideout he'd once called home. 

"That's unbelievable.  If I didn't have complete faith in your trustworthiness Joshua, I'd think you were making the whole thing up. I think I'd very much like to see that cave with those Indian bones someday.  But I don't think I would want to go anywhere near Devil's Hole though."  

"So you've heard of Devil's Hole, have you?"

"Everybody's heard of Devil's Hole.  That's where the Devil's Hole Gang lives. I've read stories about them, and that's why I wouldn't want to go there."

"Oh, you'd be alright.  Those stories are exaggerated.  Half of what's in them isn't  even true.  Not all outlaws are murders, Evangeline.  Most of them are just good men who've been forced to make some bad decisions.  And before they know it they're stuck in a way of life that they can't get out of."  

She turned her head so that she was looking up and behind her directly into his beautiful brown eyes.  She squinted curiously at him.  "And just how do you know those stories aren't true?  And just how is it that you know anything about outlaws, Joshua?"

"Because I'm Hannibal Heyes, the former leader of the Devil's Hole gang and the subject of many of those tales you've read. Perhaps you've heard of me,"  That was what he'd like to say.  "Oh, I've known a few outlaws in my day.  And I'd trust most of them with my life.  Not my money or my girl maybe, but definitely my life."

"And speaking of girls.  That girl, Julia,  that you explored that cave with....was she nice?"

"Uh huh.  Real nice."

"You liked her, huh?"

"Yeah, I liked her."

"Was she pretty?"

"Yes, she was very pretty."

"What did she look like?"  

"Long blonde hair, blue eyes.  Short.  Came to about here,"  he put his hand to his shoulder. 

Oh that figures, she thought.  Why did men always find the petite blondes pretty? Why couldn't she have inherited her mother's blonde beauty and small stature?  At five feet five inches tall she had felt like a giant next to her mother's five foot height. 

"Did you fall in love with her?"

"My, you are direct aren't you?"

"I'm sorry.  It's one of my many faults, I'm afraid.  Another of the Scottish traits I inherited from my mother."  A pause.     "Soooo,  did you?  Fall in love with her I mean."

"Direct and persistent.....I like that.  It reminds me of......me.   And the answer is 'no.'  She was a real sweet girl.  I liked her alot, but I didn't fall in love with her."