“A gator got their mama; I couldn’t leave the little mites to starve.” Beau explained as Harley winked at him. Clearly he could do no wrong in her eyes.
“Savannah-Banana, I’ve been needing to talk to you.”
At Beau’s use of the absurd nick-name, Savannah’s heart almost stopped. This was what Patrick had called her. Fighting for control she forced herself not to react. She didn’t want to make him feel bad. “What about?” She sat her bag down, wishing she could lay her burdens down just as easy.
“Indy and I got called over to De Quincy to look at a Civil War Cannon. I was skeptical but I went. Original cannons in decent condition are hard to find. When I got over there, he had it in a barn down in the woods.” Beau laughed a little, “I don’t mind telling you that the place gave me the willies.”
Savannah was intrigued. She knew Beau and what he did for a living. He not only owned a top-notch weapons business, but he wrangled alligators on the side. If something gave him the willies, then it had to be harrowing indeed. “I can’t imagine what would unnerve you. Tell me,” she urged.
Beau squatted down in front of the girls and seemed to enjoy regaling them with the tale. “The barn was at least a mile down in the pine forest and even in the broad daylight, it was dark and overcast. There was an ominous feeling in the air; honestly, I’ve never experienced this before. The spooks in our house seem friendly enough, but whatever is down in that thicket is another story.” Savannah wanted to tell him to get on with the tale, but she didn’t want to be rude. “The cannon was real and worth about a quarter of a million dollars. After we had inspected it, he looked at me funny and asked me if I believed in ghosts. I said that I wasn’t a skeptic, but I was cautious. So, he grabbed a sharpshooter and led me and Indy down an overgrown path. We came to this clearing and there was a small mound that looked like it could have been an Indian burial place, but it was miniature.” He whistled a shook his head. “Hell, I don’t like to mess with stuff like this. He told me that there was a legend of lost gold, a mine that the Indians had found and some of them had been killed over. And by dern if he didn’t say – ‘watch this’ and he rammed that sharpshooter down in the dirt. About forty-five seconds later a big black horse comes huffing out of the woods and just charged us, raring up, hoofs flashing. I’m not going to lie to you; I didn’t linger there to greet him. After we high-tailed it, it hit me that I hadn’t heard any hoof beats. It had been dead, eerie quiet.” Beau seemed to pause for effect. “When we caught up with Glen, I asked him what the hell had happened. And he said that anytime you stuck a shovel in that ground, that horse would show up. What do you think about that?”
Savannah looked at Harley who was smiling indulgently at her man. Both of these people were exceptionally brave and that they were asking her advice sort of humbled her. They didn’t realize it but she wasn’t nearly as confident as she let on. “I’ll tell you what I think, based on folklore and legend. Buried treasure requires a sacrifice to protect it. Pirates would kill one of their men and bury the treasure under his body. The ghost of the murdered man would protect the gold. Animal sacrifices to protect treasure were common place. So – I can’t be sure – but maybe that horse was killed to guard whatever treasure was buried there. Once I heard about some loggers who were trying to cut down a big oak and every time they would set the saw to it a bobcat in chains would come fighting out of the tree, snarling and biting so fiercely that they would back off. Supposedly there was gold buried in the hollow trunk.”
“Dang, that gives me cold chills,” Harley rubbed her arms.
“Do you think Glen would let us visit the spot and do an investigation?”
“After I tell him I found a buyer for that artillery of his, I’m sure he’d let us do whatever we want,” Beau rubbed Ciara’s head as the dog lounged in the grass at his side. “I wish you’d look at Harley’s hand, she keeps shifting it around trying to let the sun reflect off that big rock she’s trying to get you to notice.”
“Beau!” Harley protested.
“Congratulations!” Savannah threw her arms around her friend’s neck. “You’re engaged!”
“Yes, we are,” Harley held the ring out for inspection.
“It’s beautiful,” as Savannah held her friend’s hand to get a closer look, she couldn’t help but gaze at her own engagement ring. She still wore it. She never intended to take it off. “I’m so happy for the two of you. Have you set a date?”
“Not yet,” Beau explained. “We’re going to as to Aron McCoy’s wedding to Libby Fontaine. I plan on talking to his brother Joseph while I’m there. Joseph is going to be my best man and I want all of the McCoys here if they can make it. While we’re over there, we’re going to look at the calendar and see what we can come up with.”
“I don’t care when it is, just so it’s soon,” Harley sighed with happiness. “I want you to be happy, too, Savannah.”
“How about we invite Indy over for supper one night and you join us? He sure would like to spend some time with you.” She couldn’t get mad at her friend. Beau was content in Harley’s love and wanted everybody to be as happy as he
