Hunter's Prize (17 page)

The sidewalk leading to the steps was empty. Except for a cluster of men hovering over a smoking pit out back, the grounds were deserted. Tables with bright, checkered cloths dotted the grassy yard on both sides of the building. Beneath the trees, colorful quilts were spread.

An usher opened the door, nodding a welcome. Strains of music and voices raised in song floated to them from inside the foyer.

“Gracious, I suppose we’re later than I thought. I’d hoped tointroduce you before the service started, but it looks like that will have to wait.” Priscilla winked and took Ceddy’s hand. “Might be more fun this way. We get to make an entrance and set them to whispering.”

Addie grimaced. The last thing she wanted was to cause a stir in church. Gulping, she followed Priscilla to a vacant spot on a pew near the front, squirming as their passage down the aisle provoked upturned faces and curious stares.

At the end of the hymn, the minister raised his head, a big smile on his face. “So glad you could join us, Priscilla. As you can see, we saved your place.”

Unfazed by his banter, Priscilla nodded and settled regally on the pew. “Morning, Reverend.”

Friendly chuckles followed.

Much to Addie’s discomfort, he swept his arm her way. “I see you’ve brought a guest. Who might this lovely young lady be?”

Catching Addie’s hand, Priscilla stood, dragging her to her feet. “This is my friend Adelina McRae, formerly of Mississippi. She’s going to be living in my house and helping me with Ceddy.”

“Fine,” the minister boomed. “We’re so glad to have you. Congregation, please welcome Adelina McRae to our midst.”

The room erupted in a round of hearty nods and friendly voices. Beside her, Ceddy moaned softly and clapped his hands over his ears.

“The Lord has richly blessed us with guests today, hasn’t He?” He turned his smiling eyes on the front row. “I see we have two other newcomers right here. Stand up, please, gentlemen, and introduce yourselves.”

Addie’s intake of air sounded so loud in her ears she thought those around her were bound to hear. There was no mistaking the tops of their heads, one dark and curly, the other twisted coils.

They stood, Pearson’s shoulders so wide they blocked sight of the organist. His delighted eyes were fixed on Addie, and likely had been since he’d first heard Miss Priscilla call her name. “My friend here is Theo Bernardi, and I’m Pearson.” His simpering smile mocked her across the sea of curious people. “Pearson Foster from Galveston.”

I
don’t believe it!” Priscilla leaned to whisper. “Can you imagine the gall?”

“No.” Addie scowled and pulled her gaze from Pearson’s searching eyes. “I certainly can’t.”

They sat in a rush of satin and crinkle of petticoats.

“What are they doing here?” Addie murmured as the preacher went on with the service. “Do you suppose they followed us?”

Her friend shot her a look. “Highly unlikely, dear, considering they were inside when we arrived.”

Flustered, Addie busied herself with soothing Ceddy while her troubled thoughts swirled among the rafters.

Pearson Foster in church? She feared for those sitting in close proximity to him, for they were surely in danger of lightning bolts. Remembering the day they met and his annoyed reaction to blessing the food, Addie nibbled her bottom lip.

Unable to contain herself, she inclined her head for a peek past the person in front of her. Sure enough, Pearson sat twisted in his seat, boldly staring her way. She drew in her chin and inched closer to Ceddy on the pew, out of his line of sight. In all her experience with the opposite gender—albeit limited, thanks to overprotective parents—she’d never met a more vexing man.

Between Ceddy’s bored wiggling, her own troubling thoughts, and Pearson’s furtive over-the-shoulder glances, Addie hadn’t a clue whatthe minister’s message contained. She thought it may have been a cautionary discourse on the perils of judging your fellow man, but she couldn’t say for sure.

Distracted by her musings, she failed to stand for the closing prayer until Priscilla tapped her shoulder. Humiliated by Pearson’s quick glance and knowing smile, even more embarrassed that he’d caught her looking again, her cheeks glowed with heat. Dismissed with a hearty invitation to stay for the social, they stood and waited their turn to file outside.

The pastor had approached Pearson and Theo, engaging them in a lively discussion as they passed. Addie couldn’t resist watching Pearson go by. The trouble was, he stood out wherever he went. His unusual good looks drew the eye of everyone around him. With his golden skin and hair, the man seemed to glow.

Priscilla stepped into the aisle. Catching Ceddy’s reluctant hand, Addie slipped in behind her and followed her out. In the yard, a flurry of Priscilla’s cronies descended in a cackling rush. Eager to introduce her to each of them in turn, Priscilla tugged her this way and that until Addie’s arm grew sore from the press of her fingers.

Throughout the session of greetings and the endless string of polite questions, Addie remained acutely aware of Pearson, still in quiet conversation with the minister and several other men who had joined them. She told herself his soaring height was the reason she couldn’t keep her eyes from wandering his way.

The tone of the men’s conversation had somehow turned. Instead of lighthearted banter, two of the men seemed to be teasing Pearson and his friend unmercifully.

A dark cloud of resentment had settled over Theo’s face. Smiling and nodding good-naturedly, Pearson seemed to take it in stride.

Noticing Addie gazing past her shoulder, the young woman across from her turned to see what held her attention. “Very handsome men, wouldn’t you say, Adelina? Especially the tall one.”

Her older companion wrinkled her brow. “Mind your tongue, Dora. You’re on church grounds.”

“Sorry, Mother. Just stating the obvious.”

Pretty is as pretty does goes for men, as well
, Addie thought, but she wouldn’t say so.

After another round of boisterous laughter, the men dispersed. Theo and Pearson were immediately swept up by a second group of curious folks, but the minister strolled Addie’s way. “Miss McRae, wasn’t it?”

Addie smiled and nodded. “Yes, sir, but you may call me Addie.”

“My pleasure, considering we’ll be spending every Sunday afternoon together. I have a standing invitation to lunch at Whitfield Manor.” He raised his brows. “Although today it appears you’re my guests. I’m Reverend Abner Stroud, in case our dear Priscilla failed to mention.” A good-natured grin lit his face. “Part-time barber, full-time preacher. I can trim a man’s hair and save his soul all from the same chair.” He leaned closer and winked. “Of course, it’s not me doing the saving, you know. I’m just an instrument in the Master’s hands, much like a straight razor’s a tool in mine.”

Narrowing one eye, he tilted his head. “Which brings to mind a scripture, if you’ll indulge me. ‘For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword’ “—his sudden swipe through the air with an imaginary weapon made Addie jump—” ‘piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.’ “He offered a wide grin. “Pretty much says it all, doesn’t it?”

Glancing at Pearson, Addie squirmed. Should the sword of the Spirit happen to pierce her anxious heart, dark rage and deep distrust would spill out.

Priscilla nudged the reverend with her elbow. “Speaking of discerning a person’s thoughts and intents”—she nodded toward the lively circle surrounding Pearson and Theo—”I see you’ve met Marshall’s latest opportunists.”

Reverend Stroud checked over his shoulder. “Yes. Yes, I have.
Wonderful
fellows, in fact. Pure-hearted, honest men.”

Addie and Priscilla blinked at each other.

“Th–they are?” Addie stammered.

Lacking an ounce of decorum, Priscilla extended her arm and wiggled a bold finger. “I’m referring to those two ruffians. The newcomers with the odd hair.”

“Yes, indeed,” the reverend said. “Fine Christian men, the both of them.”

Priscilla gaped. “Are you quite sure?”

He nodded firmly. “I have a sense about such things. Knew it from the moment I looked into their eyes.” He twisted around to gesture with his nod. “Especially the tall fellow. Very sensitive to godly matters.” He frowned. “Something holds him captive though. I’m not sure what.”

Priscilla smoothed her gloved fingers over her mouth. “Well, I’ll be … I took him for a cheap, money-grasping treasure seeker.”

Reverend Stroud laughed aloud. “Priscilla Whitfield. Didn’t one word of my sermon penetrate?”

“I’m not judging, Reverend. For a fact, they’re in town hoping to make a fast dollar.”

“My dear lady … you can’t possibly know their motives for wanting to raise the
Mittie.”

Disappointment furrowed her brow. She’d lost her edge in the debate. “They told you what they’re up to?”

“Seemed to have nothing to hide.” He smiled. “A good thing, since Sam Donley from the department store and a few of the others were giving them quite a hard time just now.” He studied her pursed lips then rested his hands on his hips. “I’ll admit to knowing less about women than most crusty old bachelors, but why should their interest in a downed steamboat so offend you ladies?”

Addie nibbled her bottom lip, unable to answer. She dared not mention her reason for disliking Pearson.

She needn’t have worried. Priscilla had no such qualms. “Plundering shipwrecked vessels and digging for lost treasure isn’t exactly an honorable profession,” she said. “I would think they could find better use of their time.”

“It’s a dangerous pursuit, Priscilla. One that takes a tremendous amount of courage and faith. Given half their fortitude, I’d trade in my shears for an eye patch and blade.” He winked at Addie. “Instead of a preaching barber”—his invisible sword slashed the air between them—”I’d be a swashbuckling minister.”

“You, Reverend?”

“Yes, indeed. The lure of lost gold drives many men. In most cases, it’s due to a heightened sense of adventure rather than greed. Whatever the cause, the trait can work in their favor in the end. Such men have a great appreciation for the abundant reward promised to the believer.”

His dancing gaze jerked past them. “Here come our fortune hunters now. I admonish you two to make them feel welcome.”

Confusion glued Addie’s tongue to the roof of her mouth while Pearson and Theo descended. The reverend’s words clashed against recent events with the force of sparring horns. How could the manwho sought to woo her mother’s affections be the one Reverend Stroud described?

Rocking on his heels behind Pearson, Theo grinned foolishly. “Afternoon, ladies.”

Pearson stood straight-backed and tall and nodded her way. “Miss McRae, it’s nice to see you again so soon.” A winsome smile warmed his face. “It’s interesting how we continue to cross paths in a town of this size.” He gave her a penetrating look, his bronzed forehead creased. “Do you believe in destiny?”

Before Addie could gather her wits to speak, her companion swept closer and held out her hand. “Mr. Foster, isn’t it?”

Still watching Addie, Pearson dutifully took hold of Priscilla’s fingers. “Miss Whitfield.” He withdrew his gaze. “We had no idea this was your place of worship.”

Addie studied him through lowered lashes.
He’s telling the truth
.

“Oh yes,” Priscilla said. “For many years. We’re pleased you decided to join us this morning.”

We are?
The warmth of her voice and genteel manner were entirely too friendly.

Priscilla patted Pearson’s hand. “Reverend Stroud was just telling us what fine Christian soldiers you are.”

He arched expressive brows. “He was?”

She raised her chin and drew a deep breath—as if she’d made up her mind on an important matter. “Gentlemen,” she said brightly, “I’d be honored if you’d accompany our party to Whitfield Manor after the social for coffee and conversation. I’d like to get to know you better.”

Pearson’s startled gaze darted to Addie, likely to gauge her reaction. Unfortunately, she didn’t disappoint.

Ceddy squatted in the cover of the hedge surrounding the churchyard. Too cool in the shade, but at least he was out of the sun. He didn’t care for sunshine on the top of his head. Did not like it one bit.

He dug with the ragged edge of an oyster shell, searching for colorful stones and scratching his name in the dark earth between his knees. Drawn by the musty smell, he tossed the shell aside and buried his fingers in the soft, black dirt.

The evergreen branches behind him stirred, teasing his back. The faint crack of a broken branch reached his ears.

Ceddy stilled. Waited. Then sniffed and went on digging.

The stir became a rustle, and fear slid up his spine. Ever so slowly he turned. Afraid to look, he lowered his eyelids and peeked through shiny lashes.

Sunken eyes. Skeleton teeth. A twisted face leered through the bushes. “Boo!” its gravelly voice barked.

Ceddy opened wide to shriek, but a row of dirty fingers clamped over his face. Cruel hands dragged him through the hedges to the other side and rolled him to his stomach. His nose, so close to the ground, sucked dust that tickled his nostrils as he struggled to breathe.

“Hold him tight, Denny. Don’t let him wail.”

“I’ve got him a’right. You do like I said and search his pockets. Pat him down good, now.”

“Don’t fret, mate. If it’s on him, old Charlie will find it.” Rough hands slapped at Ceddy’s clothing and fumbled with his pockets. Heavy breathing. A labored sigh. “Nothing this side. Help me flip the little beggar.”

Ceddy’s body lifted as though weightless and spun, landing him on his back. The creepy eyes of Mr. Currie bore down on him. “Search every nook and cranny, Charlie,” he snarled, still watching Ceddy. “Leave no stone unturned.” He smiled, his dark teeth and crinkled skin a horrid sight. “You catch that? I made a funny. No stone. You get it?”

Ignoring him, Charlie sat back on his heels. “It’s not here. Must be stashed somewhere.”