Hunter's Prize (14 page)

“What is it about this one, Pearce?” Theo continued, oblivious to the danger he was in. “You didn’t take on this way when you left Pearl behind at Rosie’s.”

“Do yourself a favor, pal. Change the subject.”

His gruff tone sounded so ominous, the driver glanced nervously behind him.

Laughing, Theo held up his hands. “All right, just tell me one thing.” He pressed his face dangerously close and raised his brow. “What did you write in that letter?”

“Let it go, Theo. I’m warning you.”

He chuckled. “Very well. I’ll leave you to mourn in peace.” His voice lowered dramatically. “Just remember … I’m here for you.”

“That’s supposed to cheer me?”

After a last hearty laugh, the maddening Italian settled against the seat humming an off-key tune, his big eyes taking in their surroundings.

Left to his thoughts, Pearson questioned his reaction to the news that the woman he’d known so briefly had departed Texas.

Miss Adelina Viola McRae had affected him more than he cared to admit … to Theo or anyone else.

H
er mind consumed by thoughts of Pearson’s visit, her curiosity piqued by the mysterious letter, Addie found it hard to concentrate on her job. Balancing a tray with Ceddy’s afternoon snack and a generous serving of milk, she bumped open the door of his room with her hip and stepped inside.

Her first day as Ceddy’s governess, she’d knocked before entering his inner sanctum. Flustered when he never answered, she’d gone to Delilah for advice.

Finding more humor in her display of common courtesy than Addie felt was warranted, Delilah took pleasure in demonstrating the futility of the gesture. She stationed Addie inside the room so she could see for herself that when a knock sounded on Ceddy’s door, he pressed his ear to the other side and listened.

Addie wondered if he failed to recognize the sound as a request to enter or if he didn’t bother to care. The accepted customs of polite society seemed wasted on his simplistic view of life.

Delilah may have said it best once she’d opened the door and peered inside, laughing. “He don’t know no better!”

Mr. Uncomplicated sat on the floor behind the bed when she entered, the back of his blond head the only thing visible.

“Good afternoon, young sir. I’ve brought your goodies.”

Not a whisper of response. No hint of notice.

“Look here. Lilah used her last jar of dewberries to make you a cobbler.”

The little shoulders rounded over his task.

“Ceddy?” Addie placed the tray on a table and walked around the bed. He played quietly in front of a humpbacked trunk, legs splayed to the sides and a mound of colorful rocks stacked between them. One at a time, he took stones from the pile and lined them up by color.

She observed him for a spell, burning with curiosity about what might be going on inside his pixie head. Over the last two days, she’d come to enjoy watching him immensely. He was such a beautiful boy, looking at him brought her pleasure. More than that, his behavior fascinated her. Quiet and docile one minute, he could explode in motion or erupt in frightened cries the next.

Picking up the tray, Addie placed it next to him. With the hem of her skirt, she waved the aroma of the fresh-baked treat in his direction, smiling when he dropped the rock clutched in his hand and made a grab for the cobbler.

She’d rather he’d reached for the fork. Still, it was progress.

Squatting to his level, she held out the milk. “Don’t you want to wash it down?”

He raised both shoulders and leaned away from her.

“All right,” she said, sliding the tray closer. “I’ll put it where you can reach it when you’re ready.”

Reaching blindly behind him, he felt for the glass and shoved it over.

“Why did you do that?” she cried, whipping off her apron to use for a mop. “Look at this mess.”

The door squealed open and Delilah blinked at her from the hall. “Miss Priscilla be looking for you.”

Startled, Addie shot to her feet, wiping her wet hands on her skirt. “Oh gracious. Tell her I’ll be right along.”

Delilah shook her head. “No, Miss Addie, she right out here in the hall.”

Addie whirled as Miss Whitfield squeezed past Delilah. “Not looking anymore. I see I’ve found her.”

“Ceddy’s having his afternoon snack,” Addie announced stiffly. The silly words echoed in the room.

Thankfully, Miss Whitfield smiled. “With his usual flair, I see.” Sheshook her head at Ceddy’s sticky hands and face, the berry stains like terrible bruises. “Wipe up this milk, please, Delilah, and bring a wet rag to clean him up.” She grimaced at Addie. “He doesn’t like to take his milk, but I suppose you’ve figured that out.”

Addie released a breathy laugh. “He managed to communicate his wishes fairly well.”

“We should’ve warned you, I suppose. We have to beg and bribe him. But it’s quite good for his health I understand.”

“Yes, ma’am. So it is.”

Miss Whitfield’s demeanor changed. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m disrupting your workday.” Deep creases appeared between her eyes. “I wanted to discuss your mother’s recent visitors.”

Addie’s stomached tightened. Before she could think how to respond, Ceddy howled, the sound so piercing she cowered and covered her ears. “What on earth?”

He had finished the rows of stones, laid out in front of him in a patchwork of color. The square they formed lacked a corner, one empty slot marring the perfect symmetry. Screaming as if in pain, he tapped the space with his gooey pointer finger.

“What is it, dear?” Miss Whitfield asked, her voice taut and anxious. “Merciful heavens, what does he want?”

Delilah returned at a run, and Miss Whitfield spun toward her. “Bring another dish of cobbler. Quickly!”

“Yes’m,” she cried and dashed away.

“Wait, don’t you see?” Addie said. “He doesn’t want to eat. He wants—”

With a frustrated grunt, Ceddy bent over his design and forcefully swept it away with his forearm. The rocks scattered in all directions, one striking the windowpane so hard it cracked.

“Oh blast! Look what he’s done. Addie, can’t you do something?”

She’d been asking herself the same question. On instinct, she dropped to the floor in front of Ceddy and rattled her mother’s beads.

Their effect was immediate. The shrieking died on his lips, and his head whipped around to face her. A sweet smile softened the lines of his face, and he swiped at a lingering tear.

Clutching her hands together, Miss Whitfield plopped onto the bed. “For pity’s sake. Have you ever seen the like?”

Delilah burst in waving a mottled scoop of cobbler on a saucer. “I come as quick as I could.”

Addie’s hand shot up. “Wait, please. Not yet.”

Ignoring the treat and everything else in the room, Ceddy scooted closer to smooth his fingertip over the polished jasper.

Addie crowded her finger beside his to stroke the stone along with him. “It’s very pretty, isn’t it?”

Disappointment filled her heart as he abruptly pulled away. In rash impatience, she’d stumbled over one of his boundaries.

Dismay turned to wonder as he tugged a big book from under the bed and set to frantically flipping the pages. Stopping on a dog-eared sheet, he crab-crawled into her lap, dragging the book behind him. “Uh,” he grunted, jabbing one of the small photos on the page. Catching the necklace in his curled fingers, he jangled the pendant.

“Is he—” Miss Whitfield started.

“I believe he is,” Addie said. “He’s showing me they’re the same.” She touched the little square; the stone in the picture was medium green with flecks of red scattered throughout. “Jasper. Also known as bloodstone. You’re exactly right. Very good, Ceddy.” She beamed at Miss Whitfield. “Very good indeed.”

Just as fast as he’d come to her, Ceddy scooted from Addie’s lap and gathered his stones, this time aligning them in the order they appeared on the page.

Delilah advanced with the saucer, but Miss Whitfield shook her head. “Take it back to the kitchen. He doesn’t want it.”

She crooked her finger at Addie and strode to the door. “Stay with him for a spell, Delilah. Should you need us, we’ll be in the study.”

A lump in her throat, Addie followed Miss Whitfield down the hall. Just inside the door, the woman abruptly turned and embraced her. “I knew it,” she whispered against Addie’s ear. “I knew my instincts about you were good.” Pushing her to arm’s length, she smiled. “You’re going to be wonderful for Ceddy.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, my dear, but you did. And I’m grateful.” She pointed at the straight-backed chair. “Now on to less inspiring topics. Take a seat, please.”

Sitting across from her stern-faced employer, Addie fought the urge to loosen her collar.

Slipping on her spectacles, Miss Whitfield leaned across the desk,one brow drawn to a peak. She placed a sealed envelope between them. “As I said before, I have a few questions about the young men who came to call earlier today.”

Addie nodded. “Yes ma’am?” The woman’s silence pressed her to continue. “To be honest, I don’t really know much about them.” Bending closer to the letter, she frowned at the faint outline of bluebonnets. “I don’t understand. Isn’t that your stationery?”

Miss Whitfield nodded. “Delilah provided it for them.”

She turned the envelope over, and Addie stared at her mother’s name scrawled in large, neat letters. Surely Pearson Foster had written the letter. The forward act was just the sort of thing she could imagine him doing. But why?

“Does your mother know these men?” Miss Whitfield asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Addie swallowed. “Not exactly. We met them at the station when we arrived.”

She gaped at Addie over the top of her wire frames. “Did you say
met
them?”

“I mean, they just suddenly appeared and offered to help with our luggage.”

The poor woman’s eyes bulged. “Why would your lovely mother give those two ruffians the time of day? They looked so”—she wrinkled her nose—”unkempt.”

“You saw them?”

Miss Whitfield waved toward the front window. “A glimpse is all, but it was enough.” She stared thoughtfully. “I had the oddest sensation that I’d seen them somewhere before …” She shook her head. “But that’s not likely.”

Shriveling under Miss Whitfield’s air of disapproval, Addie didn’t dare jog her memory. If she knew they were the same men on horseback in town, she’d bust a stitch.

She wrung her hands in her lap. “They were really quite nice.”

“Nice? Well, they certainly don’t look it. What are they doing in Marshall?”

“They’re here to raise a shipwrecked steamboat or something of that nature. I believe he—Mr. Foster, the tall one—said they were wreckers.”

A glint of understanding flashed in Miss Whitfield’s narrowed eyes. “Wreckers indeed. I know just the steamboat they hope to raise, and Iknow why.” She snorted scornfully. “Those two aren’t wreckers, dear. That at least is an honorable profession in most circles. They’re treasure seekers, Addie. A vulgar pursuit at best, not to mention a reckless waste of time.”

Addie sat forward in her chair. “Treasure hunters?”

“They’re after the gold that went down with the
Mittie Stephens
.”

Now that Addie thought about it, Pearson Foster had sounded vaguely mysterious about their intentions. “Ma’am, is the steamboat you mentioned in a nearby lake?”

Miss Whitfield lifted her head. “Lake Caddo.” She nodded. “I’m right, then, aren’t I? They’re after the
Mittie.”
She absently worried the corner of the letter with one tapered nail. “Oh Addie. What do you think they want with your mother?”

Addie shrugged. “I can’t imagine. We spent a very short time with them. After lunch they escorted us to hire a rig, and that was the end of it.”

“You took lunch with total strangers?” Miss Whitfield snatched a small crocheted doily from the corner of her desk to fan herself. “Oh my, I hope no one saw you. What was Mariah thinking?”

Addie’s spine stiffened, and she drew up her chin. “My mother may be a bit unconventional at times, but she’s ever the lady. There was nothing improper about our behavior.”

Biting her bottom lip, Miss Whitfield lowered her makeshift fan and leaned to touch Addie’s hand. “Forgive me, dear. I never meant to imply otherwise. I’m a bit concerned, that’s all.”

Her eyes drawn to the letter again, Addie cleared her throat. “This mystery is easily solved. I have errands in Marshall this afternoon.” She reached across the desk. “I’d be happy to forward this on to Mother. I’m sure she’ll send a timely explanation.”

Snatching the envelope before Addie’s fingers reached it, Miss Whitfield shook her graying head. “Don’t trouble yourself.” Her stern voice left no room for argument. “I’ll take care of it.”

As she stared at Mr. Foster’s bold handwriting, her brows knitted above her glasses. “I need to give the matter more thought. To be honest, I haven’t decided if I should mail it at all.”

“But ma’am, is that—” Shocked by her own boldness, Addie tucked her chin and stilled.

Miss Whitfield shook herself from her thoughts and drew a breath.

“My place to decide? I’m convinced it is. If not for me, you and your mother would never have come to Marshall. Consequently, you’d never have met those two peculiar men.” She opened a drawer and slid the letter inside. “That’s all for now, dear. You may go.”

Firmly dismissed, Addie rose from her chair and turned toward the door.

“Adelina?”

She slowed to look over her shoulder. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Take some time while Delilah’s with the boy.” She motioned with her hand. “Change into a fresh uniform. I’m afraid you’re wearing a good portion of Ceddy’s milk.” A smile warmed her eyes. “Get in a nice nap if you’d like. I imagine Delilah’s urging your charge to do the same. You’ll find our pace slows down considerably this time of day.”

Touched by her thoughtfulness, Addie ducked her head. “Thank you, Miss Whitfield.”

Passing Ceddy’s door to her own, she glimpsed Delilah tucking the covers under his chin, heard her deep, rumbling voice humming a quiet lullaby.

Inside her room, Addie quickly shucked to her dainties and pulled on a dressing gown. Wrapping it around her, she sank into the comfortable chair beside the bed and breathed a relieved sigh.