Hunter's Prize (38 page)

The little fellow had definitely taken a shine to Pearson. Highly inconvenient in their present circumstances, but the fact surprised and pleased him.

Easing the boy to the blanketed wagon bed, he glanced at Theo gently snoring next to them, one gangly arm thrown over his eyes.

They’d offered to make room for John, but he’d pulled a bedroll out of his pack and spread it on a high spot, carefully winding a coil of rope around the edges.

“Why the rope?” Pearson had asked.

“Snake won’t cross it,” John explained.

The bedding still lay on the ground, but the man was gone. Pushing to his feet, Pearson scanned the horizon but saw no sign of him.

Theo sat up squinting. “Heard him rustling around before daybreak.

Figured he was leaving.”

Climbing down from the buckboard, Pearson shook his head. “Not unless he left everything behind.” Staring toward the water, he shrugged. “Maybe he’s gone fishing.”

“Good guess,” Theo said, pointing with his chin. “Considering one of the boats is gone.”

Pearson propped his hands on his hips. “Go find wood to stoke this fire. I’ll get started on breakfast.” He blew a frustrated breath. “John likely figures us for greenhorns. We’ve slept half the day away.”

Ceddy slumbered right through the brewing of coffee and the sizzle of bacon and eggs—surprising since he’d napped so long the day before while tucked under the buckboard seat. The minute he awoke, he came to sit at Pearson’s feet, scratching in the dirt for rocks and pebbles. Stretching his fingers, he wiggled them toward Pearson’s coffee cup.

Drawing it away, Pearson shook his head. “Sorry, old man. None of this for you.”

“I know just the thing.” Theo pushed to his feet and hurried over to rummage in their supplies. Returning with a pot filled with sloshing liquid, he set it over the fire and stirred it with a metal spoon.

“What’s that?” Pearson asked.

“Powdered milk, sugar, and chocolate mixed in water.” Theo smiled into the swirling cup. “This way, he can have his own brand of coffee.”

Testing the warmth with his finger, he poured out a cup for Ceddy. “There you go, big fella. See how you like it.”

Ceddy took the cup and lowered his face, smelling first. Smiling with pleasure, he took a taste then several big gulps.

“I think your concoction is a hit, paisan,” Pearson said.

Theo beamed. “Who doesn’t like sugar and chocolate?”

Resting his back against a log, Pearson reflected on his conversation with John the night before. The man so skillfully avoided explaining his disturbing comment, Pearson might’ve thought he misunderstood. Except he knew he didn’t.

Lucky for John, the outrageous remark went right over Theo’s head. Had he heard John say they weren’t dragging the right spot for the
Mittie
, the man would’ve gotten no rest from the relentless Italian.

If John really thought they were searching the wrong place, he didn’t care to repeat it. He steered the conversation to their surroundings instead, seeming to relish the role of schoolmaster.

“The allure to Caddo is its mystery and beauty,” he’d said, his eyes glowing with pride. He pointed out the trees as they neared the lake, some Pearson knew and some he didn’t, calling their names like beloved children. “Those right there are water oak. The ones next to them are red oak, and the tall pine there is loblolly. We have pin oak, sweet gum, and river birch. Those on the water with sprawling trunks are red cypress.”

Pearson learned the names of the fish they’d become acquainted with over the weeks—flathead catfish, blue catfish, channel cat, spotted bass, white perch, bream, and paddlefish.

John explained that the eggs of the paddlefish were sold up north for caviar. He said the massive creature that surfaced close to the boat, frightening Theo out of his wits, was likely an alligator gar, a type of fish that grew in excess of six feet.

Ceddy moaned, pulling Pearson from his thoughts.

He patted the boy’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, partner?”

Wincing, he groaned and clutched his stomach.

Concerned, Pearson pushed to his knees and bent over him, pressing his palm to his forehead. “Are you sick? You don’t feel feverish.” He met Theo’s eyes across the campfire. “What’s ailing him?”

Theo shot to his knees, shaking his head.

Writhing now, the distraught boy wailed as if in pain.

Comforting Ceddy the best he could, Pearson struggled to hold him still lest he hurt himself.

From out of nowhere, a wagon rattled into the clearing.

Pearson glanced up to see Priscilla Whitfield barreling toward them, a jagged stick in her hand. “Get away from him,” she screeched, swinging with all her might.

Pearson sprawled backward, pulling Ceddy with him to protect him from the flailing stick. Twisting around, he shot to his feet, clutching the screaming boy.

Addie hunkered ten feet away, her pretty features limp with shock.

A
ddie squatted on the ground, her legs too weak to hold her. Her eyes met Pearson’s across the distance, his filled with deep regret. The unthinkable had happened, despite her faith in him. Her glimpse into his soul had been a lie.

Priscilla saw Pearson for what he was. He’d used Addie’s lack of experience to reel her in. Despite Delilah’s admonishment against meddling in matters of time, she wished with all her heart to roll the clock back to the day she’d lost her heart to him. How had she been so blind? “Addie?”

His mellow voice sought to work its magic, but Addie shot to her feet, shaking her head to escape his spell. “Give Ceddy to Priscilla this instant.”

“Addie, please …”

“Let him go so his aunt can comfort him.”

Pearson glanced at the sobbing boy as if he’d forgotten he held him. Placing him on the ground, he patted his back. “Go to your aunt Priscilla, Ceddy.” He nudged him forward. “Go on, now.”

Clutching his middle, Ceddy stumbled into Priscilla’s skirts. Dropping to her knees, she gathered him close. “Oh darling, are you all right? Auntie was sick with worry.”

Reverend Stroud came to stand behind Priscilla, one hand at her back.

Pearson’s tortured gaze leaped to him. “Reverend, I know how this looks, but if you’ll just listen, I can explain.”

The reverend nodded at Ceddy. “The child being out here with you is all the explanation we need.” His shoulders slumped. “I wanted to believe in you, son. I tried my best.”

Holding his hands out to his sides, Pearson pleaded with his eyes. “I give you my word. I wouldn’t lay a harsh hand on that boy.”

Struggling to her feet, Priscilla guided Ceddy behind her. “You’re lying,” she shrieked. “Look at him—he’s crying. What sort of evil man would harm a boy like my Ceddy?”

“Miss Whitfield, he didn’t—”

She whirled. “Hush, Theo Bernardi. You’re no better.”

Howling, Ceddy rocked back and forth, his hands over his ears.

“You are a worthless, conniving weasel, Pearson Foster,” she spat, her tone even louder. “Worming your way into decent people’s lives, simply for gain. Your unbridled greed sickens me.”

Ceddy stamped both feet and cried harder.

Taking his shoulder, Priscilla urged him toward Addie. “Take him, please, while I deal with these scoundrels.”

Jerking away, Ceddy shot around Priscilla and rushed to Pearson, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Forced off balance, Pearson backed into the log and dropped to his rear. As if by instinct, he cradled Ceddy, drawing him under his arm. “It’s all right, buddy,” he cooed. “Don’t cry. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

Snuggling closer, Ceddy pressed his cheek to Pearson’s side.

The clearing froze to a haunting lithograph, the silver edges shimmering through Addie’s tears.

Pricilla spun to stare at her, trembling hands clutching her mouth. Her eyes, visible above her fingertips, were wide with shock.

Pearson pulled his tender gaze from Ceddy and searched Addie’s face.

She turned aside, unable to look at him. In his darkest hour, her fiercest trial, she’d failed them both.

“And there he was,” Pearson said, squeezing Ceddy’s thin shoulders. “Curled under the seat fast asleep without a care in the world.” He raised his brows. “And he never made a sound the whole time.”

Pearson sat around the fire with the others, brewing a fresh pot of coffee and relaying the story.

Priscilla, her eyes red from crying, stared in a daze at the flames. “Yes, he does that,” she said vaguely. “He can lie for hours counting cracks in the floor.”

“Anyway …” Pearson grinned. “I aged ten years when I saw him.”

Reverend Stroud shook his head repeatedly and mumbled under his breath, reaching often to give his back a gentle pat.

Addie had perched on the log beside Theo, looking everywhere but at Pearson.

Ceddy played quietly in the dirt, making soft grunting sounds occasionally as if in pain.

Knowing Addie didn’t drink coffee, Theo warmed a cup of his chocolate drink and placed it in her hands.

She glanced up. “What’s this?”

He smiled. “Just taste.”

She took a sip and gave an appreciative nod, but then a startled look crossed her face. “Is there milk in here?”

He nodded. “Made from powder.”

Her long lashes fluttered, and her gaze snapped to Ceddy. “Did he have any?”

“I made it special for him.”

She and Priscilla shared a meaningful look.

“He can’t tolerate milk,” Addie said. “It gives him a terrible stomachache.”

Understanding flashed across Theo’s face, and he blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Pearson nodded. “That explains why he was crying.”

Priscilla leaned toward Pearson and stretched out her hand. “Oh Pearson, please say you forgive me. I won’t rest until I have your pardon.”

Clutching her fingers, he gazed into her eyes. “I don’t blame you, ma’am.” Smoothing Ceddy’s blond head, he smiled. “I’d react the same if my child was threatened.”

Tears tracked down her cheeks. “I promise never to doubt you again.”

“I hope you mean it.” Pearson sighed, the pain of betrayal still fresh. “I’d do anything to keep your trust.” He flicked his gaze to Addie, but she ducked her head.

Reverend Stroud placed his big hand over Pearson’s and gave a firm shake. “I wish you could see into my repentant heart, son. I’m racked with grief over misjudging you.”

“I won’t say it didn’t hurt, sir. Especially coming from you. But all I want now is a fresh start for everyone.”

The reverend nodded. “It’s far more than we deserve.”

Watching Addie, Pearson felt a deep ache in his heart. Obviously suffering, she wouldn’t forgive herself long enough to seek his forgiveness. He bore her silence for as long as he could. Proper or not, he was going to take her out of the others’ hearing and settle things between them.

Gripping the log, he poised to stand. “Addie …”

She jumped like she’d been jabbed then raised her head. Before he could invite her on a walk, her attention shifted to something over his shoulder, alarm written all over her face.

Pearson turned.

The missing rowboat skimmed across the water, breezing toward shore. John, a stringer of fish in his hand, leaped to the bank and idly wrapped the towrope around a bush.

“It’s all right,” Pearson said, his hand going up. “It’s only Catfish John.”

Reverend Stroud whipped around. “Catfish John? You don’t say!”

John glanced toward the newcomers and slowed his pace. Scanning the gathering, a big smile broke out on his face. “The feisty women you dreaded, I take it?”

Pearson grinned. “None other.”

“I see they let you live. Have you been granted a pardon?”

“Yes, thankfully.” He motioned toward the women. “Allow me to present Miss Priscilla Whitfield, Miss Addie McRae, and Reverend Abner Stroud.”

John nodded. “Forgive me for not offering my hand.” He glanced at the fish. “You wouldn’t thank me.”

Theo swung around the log and took the stringer from him. “I’ll clean these for you.”

John handed them over. “Thank you, young man. I hoped somebody would offer. I like catching fish. I just don’t like cleaning them.”

Pearson motioned for him to take a seat. “Let me pour you a cup of coffee. I know you must be hungry, too. We saved you bacon, eggs, and biscuits.”

He accepted Pearson’s offering with a hearty nod then squatted in front of the fire to eat.

Lifting her chin, Priscilla stared longingly at the skillet of leftovers. “I wouldn’t mind having a plate, if there’s enough.”

“Of course, ma’am. Forgive my bad manners.” He filled three plates and passed them to Priscilla, the reverend, and Addie.

She took one but didn’t seem to find the food very appetizing.

“How did you find him, son?” the awestruck reverend asked, pointing at John.

Pearson blushed. “With my matchless tracking skills and bloodhound nose.”

John grunted, and the reverend angled his head.

“All right then. He found us about a mile up the road, floundering like fish out of water. We had a lame horse and not a lick of common sense between us to decide what to do. John showed up and rescued us.”

“Happens a lot out here,” John said around a big bite. “More than you’d think.”