Hunter's Prize (12 page)

“They look lovely,” Mother said, reaching for one of the golden-brown quick breads.

“Addie?” Miss Whitfield said, waving them under her nose.

Addie reached for one, but her hostess pulled them back. “On second thought, why not partake of yours in the kitchen with Ceddy?” Oblivious to Addie’s discomfort, she placed two servings on a small plate and handed it across the table. “He’s much fonder of these than he is the tarts. I’m sure he won’t throw them.”

Her pleading look touched Addie’s heart, but that only increased its pounding. “I don’t know, ma’am. He, um … he’s not very receptive to me.”

The offered plate didn’t budge.

Mother quietly cleared her throat. “Go ahead, Addie. Take it.”

Wishing her hand didn’t tremble so visibly, Addie reluctantly reached for the treats. With a last pleading glance at her mother, she excused herself from the table and followed Delilah down the hallway to the kitchen.

Easing the swinging door open, Delilah peeked inside. “Always make sure he’s not sitting right in front,” she explained over her shoulder. “Many a time, I’ve busted inside without looking, and he wound up with a goose egg.”

She stepped aside, and Addie entered the kitchen.

Ceddy lay on his stomach with his chubby cheek pressed against the floor, running one stubby finger along a polished wood plank. In his other hand, the arm crooked over his head, he held a jaunty little cap, black-rimmed velvet with a double row of silk cords stitched to the front.

“We just come in from outside,” Delilah said brightly, taking the cap from his lifeless fingers.

Engrossed in tracing the line, he didn’t seem to notice.

She snatched his jacket from the back of a chair and swept past. “I’ll go put his things in his room.”

Lifting her hand toward Delilah’s retreating back, Addie swallowed the urge to ask her to stay. An ache starting low in her stomach, she pressed against the counter and watched him.

She couldn’t call the noise he made a proper hum, more of a rhythmic grunt, but it was the first sound he’d made that might’ve come from a little boy.

Encouraged, she moved closer. “Ceddy?”

The slightest pause—then his tracing resumed.

Swallowing hard, she squatted to the floor. “I’ve brought you something nice, see? One of Delilah’s scones.”

No response.

“There’s jelly inside. Peach, I think.” She put the plate on the hardwood floor and nudged it toward him with the backs of her fingers. He continued to ignore her, so she edged it bit by bit until it bumped into his hand.

With barely a break in concentration, he shoved it away with the heel of his palm.

Addie sighed and sought the heavens. What was Miss Whitfield thinking? She could barely reach her great-nephew herself. How could she expect a stranger with no training in his unusual behavior to get through?

She dropped to her behind and crossed her legs in front of her, absently reaching for the strand of beads around her neck. Instead of lending her courage, they pressed against her heart with the weight of her mother’s expectations.

A scurrying sound from Ceddy raised her head. He had straightened his arms and pushed up, his wide-eyed stare locked on her necklace.

Startled, Addie dropped the clattering beads to her chest.

As though mesmerized, Ceddy’s gaze followed them.

Struck by sudden inspiration, she gripped the strand and rattled it.

In a flash, he scampered across the floor and scrambled into her lap. Wonder lit his delicate features as he placed his hand over hers, gently tugging them out of the way. Palming the jasper pendant, he lifted it close to his face and smiled.

Of course!
Addie thought.
I’ve been using the wrong bait
.

In a surge of understanding, she saw the orphaned kittens snuggled in the folds of her skirt, straining toward her caress as if desperate to be touched. Just as bits of cold fish drew them against their wills, Ceddy, responding to what he loved most, couldn’t resist her. He perched close to Addie, allowing himself to be touched by the only thing that moved him.

What had Mother said? That winning the trust of innocent creatures was Addie’s gift? For the first time since she’d heard the words, she began to believe them.

Unable to stop herself, she smoothed wispy strands of hair off the child’s forehead with trembling fingers. She expected him to withdraw, but the stone held him transfixed.

“Ceddy?” she whispered, desperate to have him look at her.

He batted his long, tangled lashes but didn’t glance up.

In a blinding flash, in a jumble of thoughts coming so fast she couldn’t have put them into words, she saw the parallel to God cut off from His creation by a yawning gulf of sin, shut off in the same way Ceddy had locked out the world around him. Her breath caught on a sob. Compassion welled in her chest, so deeply felt her untrained heart could only express it as love for a feral creature who couldn’t acknowledge it—at least not yet. But she knew in her heart that he would.

Just as certainly, she knew that when the northbound train pulled out of Marshall with her mother aboard, she wouldn’t be sitting beside her.

P
earson stood on the dilapidated dock overlooking Tow Head, where the Big Cypress River fed into Broad Lake, and stared into the murky depths of the Caddo. Surrounded by acres of cypress swamps, bayous, waterways, channels, and sloughs, the enormity of the task he’d so boastfully shouldered hit his stomach like a blow.

Beside him, Theo whistled. “Now I see why that old sailor called this region a lost world.”

Pearson nodded. “And why the clerk at Weisman’s said we’d bitten off more than we could chew.”

Theo’s gaze jerked to his face. “Are you thinking we have?”

Giving his head a little shake, Pearson squatted close to the water. “I’m not ready to quit just yet.”

Kicking a pinecone off the end of the dock, Theo sighed. “Everyone we’ve talked to today said we’ll be lucky to find Catfish John. Without him, we’re as sunk as the
Mittie.”

“We asked each of them to pass the word to John if they see him. That’s all we can do for now. Besides”—he glanced over his shoulder—”we may not need him. All of the old hands agreed that this is about where she rests.”

Theo pointed with his chin at the widening rings fanning out on the surface of the water where the pinecone went down. “You heard them, Pearce. That overgrown sinkhole is twenty feet deep in some places.”

Pearson gave him a sideways glance. “But it averages eight. And it won’t be that deep where we’ll be searching. The
Mittie
sank close to the bank, near the shallows.”

Twisting his mouth, Theo tapped his bottom lip. “Hmm. The shallows. Where the gators live?”

“Only the babies. The big ones go deep.”

“Except when they’re hunting a meal. And why are you ignoring what the one fellow said?”

“Which fellow?”

“The man at Port Caddo who told you the
Mittie
burned to the waterline. That her safe, bell, and boilers were salvaged right after she sank.”

Pearson waved him off. “That man didn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Besides, they never recovered the gold. So if the safe was found, the gold wasn’t in it.” Pushing past him, Pearson stalked off the dock to the water’s edge. “Ready to get wet?”

“What?” Theo whirled, his voice cracking. “Now?”

“We might as well take a look while we’re here. Find out what we’re dealing with.”

“Don’t we already know what we’re dealing with?” Grasping Pearson’s shirtsleeve, he pulled him around. “Nests of angry cottonmouths.” His eyes bulged. “Remember?”

Hiding a smile at Theo’s hysterics, Pearson spoke calmly. “I intend to give this lake every ounce of respect it deserves, buddy boy, especially the cottonmouths. Now come on.” Pearson strode along the shoreline for several yards to a spot where the bank sloped gently to the water.

Theo ran along behind him, still fussing like a flustered woman.

Sitting on the ground, Pearson slid off his boots and socks then stood and peeled off his sweat-dampened shirt. The wind felt good on his bare chest.

Walking into the water up to his ankles, he sighed. If he closed his eyes, ignoring the dank smell and the mud squishing between his toes, he could almost imagine himself back on the coast. After two more steps, bringing the frigid lake up to his calves, he stopped and glanced behind him.

Theo still dawdled on the bank, fully clothed.

“Aren’t you coming?”

He licked his lips. “I realize your skin’s like a whale’s. You can’t livelong without getting wet.” Breaking eye contact, he gazed at the dark water lapping his boots. “But I’m not like you, Pearson. I wasn’t born with gills.”

“You don’t like getting those prissy curls wet is all. Stop grousing. You sound like your grandmother.”

“Nonna is a wise and cautious woman. It’s why she’s lived so long.” He shook his head. “I’ll wait here this time.”

“Suit yourself, sissy boy.”

Theo gawked. “You’re really going in there? What do you hope to accomplish?”

In up to his waist now, Pearson looked over his shoulder. “I’ll let you know the answer when I figure it out. But I can truthfully say I prefer sand and salt water.” With a sharp inhale, he dove.

So this was how it felt to be blind. Opening his eyes in the pitch darkness got him little more than a burning sensation from silt and debris. Feeling his way along the bottom was none too pleasant either, with slime so deep, his groping fingers buried to the wrists, never hitting solid ground.

Aware of small fish darting in all directions, Pearson kicked his legs, skimming the lake bed for several feet until it dropped sharply from beneath him. From somewhere below a bubble rose, tickling his stomach as it bounced off him. The exhale of a large animal, one that would soon rise for another breath.

Spinning, he fought through a tangle of underwater plants, swam as far as he could, and then forced his way to the surface. Gasping for breath, he pushed back his hair and sought the bank.

Theo paced like an anxious mother, biting what was left of his stubby nails.

Grinning, Pearson paddled toward him until he found his feet, emerging from the swirling water with mud up to his knees.

“There you are,” Theo said. “What took so long?”

“It seemed only seconds to me.” He pointed behind him. “It’s dark and cold down there.”

Crossing his arms, Theo slouched to one side. “What did you expect?”

Pearson laughed. “That it would be dark and cold, I suppose.” He sobered. “We’re going to need a drag, Theo, and it won’t be easy going. We’ll have to find a couple of rough-and-tumble men with strong armsand backs, preferably as familiar with this lake as we are with the Gulf.”

“Men like Catfish John?”

He nodded. “Exactly like him.”

“How do you plan on finding them? We’ve been asking around since we got here. No one seems interested.”

Gripping Theo’s shoulder with a muddy hand, he shook him. “Let’s worry about the details later, all right? For now, I’m anxious to get back to town and clean up.”

“And have dinner?” Theo rubbed his stomach. “I’m starved.”

Pearson nodded, leading him to where they’d tethered their rented horses. “I could eat a bite myself.” He patted Theo’s back good-naturedly. “As long as it isn’t catfish.”

Smiling and waving, Mother boarded the train out of Marshall, her eyes red from crying, her chest puffed with pride.

Standing beside Miss Whitfield at the station, Addie struggled with all her might not to cry. She wasn’t a child anymore, for goodness’ sake! Her parents had sheltered her far too long. She’d fought hard for independence and the respect due her twenty-two years. Standing on the train platform, waving good-bye to her mother, she had it at last. Why then did it seem so hard?

“Oh Adelina,” Miss Whitfield said, her arm circling Addie’s waist, “you have the most forlorn expression. Don’t worry, dear. You’ll see her again.”

Addie swallowed the growing lump in her throat. “I know I will. It’s just that … well, it’s the first time we’ve ever been apart.”

“I know how you feel, honey. I remember when my parents sent me away to school for the first time. I thought my heart would break.” She sighed. “Soon I made new friends, met your Dr. Moony, and before long, my father was scolding me for neglecting to write home.” She tittered. “I got so wrapped up in my new life, the pull of my old one lessened.”

Addie shook her head. “I can’t imagine that happening.”

“It will though.” Miss Whitfield patted her waist. “You’ll see.”

Addie stood on tiptoe at the edge of the platform, watching the train until there was no longer even a speck visible down the track. Shoulders slumped, she rejoined her new employer, waiting patiently with her hands clasped and a fringed reticule dangling from her wrist.

“Are you ready now?” Miss Whitfield asked.

“I suppose so.” She tucked her bottom lip. “I want to thank you for coming with me, ma’am. I didn’t relish facing this alone.”

Clucking her tongue, Miss Whitfield tapped her hand. “Nor should you. I was more than happy to be here. Let’s get back to the carriage and we’ll take you home.”

Home?
Addie’s heart sank. The word had taken a whole new meaning. Instead of the two-story house in Canton, Mississippi, with her loved ones gathered inside, home meant a stately manor house in Marshall, Texas, where she dwelled with utter strangers.

“Are you hungry, dear? Delilah will have supper about ready when we arrive. I believe she’s frying chicken for us tonight. Won’t that be nice?”

Addie’s mouth felt as though she had cotton bolls tucked into her cheeks. She grimaced. “Oh yes, ma’am. It sounds lovely.”

Miss Whitfield prattled on about all the foods she hoped Delilah would serve alongside the main dish.

Not sure how she could stomach one bite, since the mere mention of supper made her queasy, Addie tuned out her chatter and gazed around at the nearby shops and houses.

Marshall’s a pretty town
, she thought as they neared the carriage. A prosperous town by the look of it. People dressed very nicely and kept their homes and yards in first-rate conditions. She would miss the familiarity of her hometown but decided on the spot to give Marshall a fair shake.