Hunter's Prize (37 page)

Pearson shook Theo’s shoulder. “He’s thirsty. Get him some water.”

Theo snagged the canteen and shook it. It gave an answering slosh, so he scrambled over and held it out to Ceddy.

The boy stared blankly.

“Here”—Pearson crawled up beside them—”let me try.”

He took the flask from Theo and opened the lid. Pulling Ceddy toward him, he cupped his hand under his chin and offered a drink.

Ceddy got a taste and drank heartily.

Wiping the boy’s mouth with his shirt, he glanced back at Theo. “He has to be hungry, too. What do we have?”

Theo fumbled inside the crates but came up empty-handed. “All of this needs to be cooked.”

Panic crowding his throat, Pearson rummaged in the box closest to him. “There has to be something he can eat. Didn’t you get any bread? Or crackers?”

“I have a slab of venison jerky,” Catfish John said, startling Pearson half out of his boots. He stood peering over the rail, watching Ceddy. “I didn’t know you had a child with you.”

“Neither did we,” Pearson said grimly. “The little guy’s a stowaway.”

Humor flashed in John’s eyes. “Your plight gets more exciting by the minute.”

Pearson groaned. “I can’t take much more excitement.”

Sliding his shoulder pouch around, the man dug inside and handed a bundle to Theo. “There’s enough jerky for all of you. Help yourselves.”

Regret weighing his heart, Pearson heaved a sigh. “I’m afraid we’ll have to cancel our little inquiry. I have no choice but to get this boy home straightaway.”

Catfish John nibbled inside his cheek. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He jerked his thumb at the horse. “She won’t make it, and it’s a long walk to Marshall.”

Pearson sagged against the wagon seat, pulling Ceddy with him. “In the flurry of finding the child, that little detail slipped my mind.” He pleaded for good news with his eyes. “How long before she can make the trip?”

He shrugged. “Not more than a couple of days. A week if she’s got an abscess.”

Pearson’s heart plunged. “Sir, the stakes of our plight just rose. I’m afraid my life is about to get very complicated.”

John pointed at Ceddy with a grimy finger. “I take it there’s a feisty woman somewhere who might be irked at you for this?”

“No, sir,” Pearson said with a shudder. “Two feisty women.”

“Even more deadly.” Doing a poor job of hiding a grin, he climbed into the passenger seat. “I’m starting to be glad I accepted your invitation. I don’t want to miss how this turns out.”

Ruffling Ceddy’s hair, Pearson climbed over the seat and took the reins. “You’d best rethink your position before it’s too late.”

A mischievous glint in his eye, Catfish John crossed his arms. “Not a chance.”

Pearson urged the poor little mare onto the road at a slow, careful pace. Peering behind him, he couldn’t resist a smile.

Theo and Ceddy sat like braves at a powwow, their peace pipes long strips of dried venison.

As they rode, Catfish John volunteered a lesson on the origins of Caddo Lake. “Legend has it she was fashioned by the New Madrid Earthquake of 1812. I reckon it could be true, since Reelfoot Lake in Tennessee was formed the same way. Some folks disagree, but either way, the Great Raft caused an influx of water that filled the existing basin.”

“The Great Raft?”

“A log jam creating a natural dam on the Red River, at least a hundred miles long before they busted it up in 1873.”

Theo piped up from the rear. “Excuse me, sir. Do I call you Catfish, John, or Mr. John?”

Catfish John chuckled. “Plain old John will do.”

“Well John, we’ve found plants out here that we’ve never seen before. I’d bet you can tell us the name of those bothersome weeds covering the lake bottom.”

“Sounds like you’ve run into some coontail moss.”

Theo grunted. “You could say so. Over time, we’ve hauled up enough with our drag to cover Texas.”

John laughed. “I expect you’ve snagged your share of yonqupin, too. They’re the lilies.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, sir.”

“What are the tiny, floating plants?” Pearson asked. “Like bright green lentils with stems?”

“Sounds like duckweed,” John said.

“Duckweed,” Pearson repeated. “Sticks to a fellow. I’ve come up wearing it like a shroud.”

John nodded. “Gators do as well. They lurk in duckweed to get a jump on their prey.”

Pearson grimaced. “We found that out the hard way.”

Slapping his leg, John hooted with laughter. “So you’ve come up close and personal with Caddo’s nastiest citizen?” Leaning away from Pearson, he seemed to take inventory. “I’m impressed with you fellows. It’s been weeks since you started sniffing around for information. I figured you’d be long gone like the rest.” He patted Pearson’s back. “You have grit, I can say that much.”

Pearson angled his head. “So you knew we were looking for you?”

John lowered his chin, mischief glinting in his eyes. “Let’s say I had an inkling.”

Theo leaned between them. “But we left word all over the docks stating exactly where we’d be.” By the end of the sentence, his voice had risen to a soprano.

Pearson shoved him back with his elbow. “You’ll have to excuse my friend. He gets as wound up as an old woman sometimes.”

Looking ashamed, John twisted on the seat. “Sorry, fellas. If I got excited about every greenhorn treasure seeker who came asking about the
Mittie
, I’d spend all my time holding their hands. The truth is, you ain’t the first to come looking for her, and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

Staring directly into his eyes, Pearson shrugged. “That may not be true since we’re the most determined.”

John seemed to weigh his words. “Well, son … that’s good news and bad, considering.”

“How is it bad?”

He held up his hand. “We’ll save that conversation for later. The thing is, I trust you mean what you said.” Shifting his pack around, he pulled out a drawstring pouch. “I think folks around here might’ve taken you boys too lightly. I’m starting to believe you would’ve found the
Mittie
by now”—tapping tobacco into a square of paper, he lifted twinkling eyes—“if you’d been looking in the right place.”

A
ddie hardly slept. Her disquieted spirit magnified every sound in the creaky old house tenfold, and she spent the better part of the night praying for Ceddy’s safe return.

The few minutes she dozed were fraught with restless dreams. Only once, in the pitch darkness of the wee hours, did traitorous musings of Pearson’s guilt invade her loyalty. With a thudding heart and quickening breath, she’d shoved them away.

She almost preferred the thought of Pearson having Ceddy. It seemed far less frightening than the boy wandering somewhere lost and alone. Yet that would make Priscilla’s hunch right, and the repercussions were unthinkable.

A single memory of Pearson’s russet eyes awash with grief was all it took to renew her faith. A man couldn’t suffer such pain and then inflict it on another. Unlike Priscilla, Addie had gained entry into Pearson’s beautiful soul. She bore personal testimony of his goodness, only no one cared to listen.

Her mind returned to Ceddy. For just a moment, she imagined him in his bed, curled beneath his special quilt, as bright and colorful as his rocks. Remembering the mattress tossed aside, its innards exposed, the quilt ripped into jagged pieces, Addie’s heart broke.

Ugliness lurked behind such evil acts, something more sinister than thievery, as if the person responsible bore malice against the objects themselves. Or jealousy of Ceddy for having them.

A light rapping on the door startled her from her thoughts. Sitting upright, she pulled the covers up to her chin. “Who’s there?”

“Jus’ me, Miss Addie.”

“It’s all right, Delilah. Come in.”

She peeked in, the lantern in her hand unable to light the deep shadows under her eyes.

Addie sighed. “I see you slept no better than me.”

“Yes’m.” Tiptoeing across the threshold, Delilah hurried to the window and pulled back the curtains. With only darkness outside, it did little good. “I mean, no, ma’am. I ain’t slept worth spit for worrying about Little Man.”

Addie let the covers slide and stretched her fingertips toward the ceiling. “Is it time to get up already? It feels like the middle of the night.”

She nodded. “Miss Priscilla say if you insist on going, you best be dressed and downstairs lickety-split. She ain’t gon’ wait on you.” She opened Addie’s wardrobe and pulled out her plainest dress. “I believe her, too. She say she ready to go, and she ain’t even hungry.” Turning from shaking out the frock, she stared with bulging eyes. “Can you believe it?”

Addie couldn’t, but it wouldn’t be nice to say so.

When she imagined the pain driving the poor woman, her stomach lurched. “Oh Delilah. I’d pay dearly to go back in time to a few days ago. We were all so happy then.”

Delilah shook her finger. “No, Miss Addie. Don’t wish away time, not forward or back. God got every second planned, and we shouldn’t go to meddling.”

Tilting her head, Addie watched her face. “Every second? You really think so?”

She nodded firmly. “I know so.”

Addie longed for such childlike faith. Unfortunately, her personality tended toward the meddling side. She swung her legs off the bed and felt for her slippers. “So you don’t think He needs our help occasionally? To make things turn out all right?”

Delilah’s eyes grew wide. “Go ask Abraham and Sarah. I s’pose if they had a do-over, they’d leave the ‘turnin’ out right’ up to God.”

Addie considered the story of Abraham, the biblical patriarch, and Sarah, his wife. Instead of waiting for God to send them a promised son, they took matters into their own hands and arranged for another woman to bear a child with Abraham. Their efforts brought about disastrous results.

Probing with her toes for her house shoes again, Addie heard Mother’s voice in her head.
“The ways of God are wonderful…. His generous heart unsearchable…. Keep watch at all times, and allow Him to orchestrate your destiny.”

It seemed simple. Trust in His goodness, watch for His hand in the affairs of her life, and then get out of His way.

Delilah swept Addie’s slippers aside with her foot. “You don’t need those. I’ll fetch your stockings then help you with your frock and your outside shoes. Miss Priscilla gon’ be stomping up them stairs any second hollering for you to hurry.”

Delilah’s prediction came true. Before she could help Addie fasten her dress, Priscilla blew through the door barking orders and clucking her tongue. “Not a dress, for pity’s sake. Wear riding breeches at least.”

“But we’re traveling by wagon,” Addie protested.

She pointed at her own split skirt. “We must be nimble and unfettered. No telling what we’ll encounter out there.”

By the time Addie selected and put on the appropriate attire, Priscilla was outside in Reverend Stroud’s wagon. Delilah had just enough time to hand her a basket as she spun out the door. Carrying the food to the rig in the same basket from which she’d shared a picnic with Pearson, Addie felt her heart squeeze. She missed him desperately.

What would happen once they found him? Addie would be ever so glad to see him, but how would Priscilla react to finding her theory was wrong? Addie felt certain she clung to the notion out of desperation. After all, if Pearson didn’t have Ceddy, who did?

“It’s about time,” Priscilla called as Addie hurried down the front steps.

Handing up the basket, she climbed into the backseat with a grimace. “I came as fast as I could, considering I dressed myself twice.”

“Good morning, Addie,” the reverend said.

“Morning, sir.”

Priscilla patted his arm. “There’s no time for social graces, Abner Stroud.”

He cast a startled glance. “It’s not like you to address me by my first name, Priscilla.”

“Forgive me, but I’m a little distraught. You’ve kept me waiting hours too long to go to Ceddy’s rescue, and there are still hours ahead of us.” Her hand fluttered in the air. “Now please … carry on.”

The reverend flicked the reins and started the horse in motion. Unable to contain the question, Addie leaned to tug her sleeve. “What will we do if Pearson doesn’t have him?”

With a frantic shake of her head, Priscilla stared off into the woods. “That won’t happen. It mustn’t,” she continued, her voice breaking.

Reverend Stroud slid his hand down her forearm and squeezed her white-knuckled fist. “We’ll find him, dear lady.”

She twisted to face him, her eyes pleading.

“The men are tirelessly searching. They’ve vowed to continue until young Ceddy is safely back in your arms.”

Addie raised her hankie to muffle a sob as silent tears slid down Priscilla’s delicate cheeks.

Pearson’s eyes flew wide. As he stared at the cloudless morning sky, his mind scrambled for the answer to what had startled him awake. A gentle, sighing breath against his ear jerked his head around to the heart-jarring answer.

Ceddy lay asleep on Pearson’s shoulder, one skinny arm across his chest. Smiling, Pearson cradled the boy’s head with his palm, the thin blond hair the softest thing he’d ever touched.