Hunter's Prize (7 page)

Charlie leaned into the squall, gripping his hat with one hand and clutching his worn coat with the other. “It’s cold out, boss,” he yelled. “Come inside, will ya? It’s important.”

Denny waved him on, and they staggered along the pitching deck to the stairwell. Shielded from the bitter wind, they descended into the belly of the ship and made their way down a long corridor to the tiny, one-room cabin they shared.

Charlie led the way inside. “This is better, yeah? A man can’t hear himself think out there.”

“I could hear meself fine till you turned up.” Wrinkling his nose, Denny glared at the dusty corners, dingy blankets, and water-stained curtain over the porthole. “Blimey, the ocean smelled less of fish.”

Chuckling, Charlie plopped on the bottom bunk. “You get used to it over time.”

Denny pulled out a rickety chair and perched on the seat. “There’s where you’re wrong, old boy. I won’t ever get used to living in dustbins and fish stalls. That’s why I’m bound to change my luck.” He propped his ankle on his knee and leaned forward. “Now, then … what’s all this about?”

Charlie blinked up at him. “Well, I …”

“Go on, Charlie. You dragged me away from fresh air to choke in this stinking hole, so where’s the house on fire?”

“Ain’t no house on fire.” Twisting his fingers in knots, Charlie stole a guilty glance. “But our bellies may be burning once we reach land.”

Denny cocked his head, staring dumbly at the squirming man. “What are you on about, mate?” His stomach coiling with dread, he stalked to the bed, shoved Charlie aside, and raised the mattress. Snatching the drawstring purse, he knew it was empty before he ever peered inside. The pleasing bulge in the bag was gone; the cloth draped his hand like a dead cat. He glared ferociously. “Where’s the money?”

Charlie grimaced, drew in his shoulders, and sank deeper into the moldy mattress. “Gone.”

The word thundered in Denny’s head. “What happened to it?”

“Now don’t go spare on me, Den. I’m awful sorry. I happened onto a game of five-card loo down in the hold. Just a couple of damp-eared deckhands, so raw I had to teach them the rules of the game.” He spread his hands. “I figured to double our stakes, see? But they skinned me.” He shrugged. “A streak of beginner’s luck, I suppose.”

Denny glared through a heated tunnel while the shabby little room whirled in a haze. They were riding the lurching barrel in the first place to save a few quid to get them to Texas. “They took you for a mug, Charlie!” he roared. “They saw you coming, you witless nit.”

Confusion twisted Charlie’s pasty face. “You’re wrong, mate. They didn’t even know—”

“Do you really think you found two sailors who couldn’t play a round of loo?” Struggling to breathe, Denny jabbed at the air with his finger. “The first trick they played was on you.”

Charlie frantically shook his head. “Nah, Den. I don’t think so.”

Denny lunged and gripped his collar, jerking him to his feet. “There’s your trouble, bloke. You never think. You’ve got ‘idiot’ scrawled across your forehead. Those boys cut their teeth on dolts like you.” He shoved him toward the door. “Now, go on with you. Haul your worthless bum topside and replace every shilling.”

Charlie widened his eyes. “H–how am I supposed to do that?”

“Rob a few cabins. Pick some fat pockets. I don’t care how you do it—just get it done.”

Eyes downcast, Charlie slumped across the threshold.

Catching his arm, Denny spun him around. “You get nicked, and I’ll deny ever knowing you. They can toss your rotted corpse off the starboard bow for all I’ll care.” He wrinkled his brows and scowled. “Mind you, it’s a long swim to shore.”

Marshall, Texas, April 1905

A
ddie stepped down from the T&P railway car and took her first shaky steps on Texas soil. Nervous fingers clutching the moss-green fringe on Mother’s shawl, she felt like a toddling child traipsing behind her mother on the first day of school. She couldn’t pretend that if Mother weren’t there, leading her wherever she went, she wouldn’t be frightened out of her wits.

The porter handed down their luggage with a broad-toothed smile, tipped his cap, and moved on.

Lifting her chin, Addie stole a peek over her mother’s shoulder.

The platform teemed with people of every description, all in a terrible hurry. Most ignored them, brushing blindly past in their haste. Others, all of them men, stared rudely. One young fellow, sporting pointy-toed boots and a bold smile, raised his broad-brimmed hat and winked.

Ducking her head, Addie swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped closer to Mother.

Texans are ill mannered and full of themselves
, she thought—and felt like saying so.

Miss Whitfield had forwarded several points of interest about her town, neglecting to mention the improper conduct of its male residents. Marshall, known as the Gateway of Texas, was a regional educationcenter, a major railroad hub, the cotton-marketing center for East Texas, and the first city in the state to have electricity and telegraph service—not to mention boasting a population of more than ten thousand souls.

Evidently, all ten thousand had picked that day to cluster at the depot.

Shifting the cumbersome bags to her other hand, she squirmed with irritation. “I don’t know why you refused Miss Whitfield’s offer to send her driver, Mother. Now we’re totally at the mercy of strangers.”

“We are no such thing. The Lord will be our guide.”

“Can you at least tell me why you didn’t wire ahead?”

Mother raised her strong chin and stared down the street. “Your father thought to catch her off guard. If the lady knew exactly when we were coming, she’d be on her best behavior.”

Addie fumed inside. She had the notion there was little chance of catching a woman like Miss Whitfield at anything but her best behavior. When would her parents allow her to trust her own instincts?

Mother leaned to squint past Addie’s head. “Over there, dear. The G–Ginocchio.” She smiled. “An odd-sounding name for a hotel, if I’ve pronounced it correctly, but it looks very nice.” A determined set to her mouth, she gripped the handles of her cases and straightened her spine. “Come along. Well find a bite to eat before we hire a ride to our destination. It’s bad manners to arrive hungry if we’re going to show up unannounced.”

Worse manners to show up unannounced, Addie decided, but chose to bite her tongue.

On the walk to the hotel, weighed down by heavy bags and wearing dusty, rumpled clothes, Addie feared they resembled a pair of common laborers. Blushing, she tucked her chin close to her chest and followed the swish of her mother’s skirt.

As they reached the path leading to the impressive, well-appointed building, two men rushed them from behind.

Startled, Addie spun, tightening her grip on her luggage.

A stranger towered over her, staring confidently into her eyes. “May I?” he asked, slipping her belongings from her fingers with ease.

Stifling a cry, she gaped helplessly, too captivated by the arresting figure to do otherwise.

The man was as tall as a Mississippi magnolia. His eyes were warm and smiling, the outer lashes so long they curved close to his expressive,dark brows. The skin of his face glowed smooth and dark, sunbaked to a golden brown. A narrow line of fine-whiskered hair grew from a dimpled recess beneath his full bottom lip, extending down his strong chin. But his most striking feature by far was the matted hair tumbling past his shoulders, the tips bleached by the sun.

“I—I—” Addie stammered, unsure whether to swoon or shriek for help.

“Why, thank you,” Mother said, her voice sounding far away.

Addie whirled to see her blithely pass her bags to a small, swarthy man. “Mother, for heaven’s sake,” she hissed, “what are you doing?”

“Allowing these nice young men to render aid.” Turning the force of her considerable charm on the lanky man at her side, she smiled her brightest. “And not a moment too soon. I couldn’t have carried those things another step.”

The fellow beside her tipped his odd little hat, freeing a dark tumble of curls. “Happy to serve,
signorina
.”

Mother’s laughter floated back to Addie. “That’s
signora
, if you don’t mind.”

Swinging her gaze upward, Addie fell once more into haunting brown eyes. The color of burnt-sugar candy and as clear as a handblown demijohn, they latched onto her, and she couldn’t pull away.

“We frightened you,” he said. “I apologize.” Some men’s voices didn’t suit them, despite a pleasing appearance or manner of dress. This man’s deep rumble served him well, melting in Addie’s ears like a match on candle wax.

Her traitorous mother had moved on, chatting with her new companion like an old friend. Addie scowled after them, her brows drawn to a tight knot.

“After you,” the man behind her said, interrupting her pout.

She lifted her glare to him, and he waved his hand with a flourish, his once-friendly smile now more of an amused grin.

Before Addie reached the entrance of the hotel, her mother had disappeared.

The stranger stepped onto the boardwalk in front of Addie to hold the door.

Careful to avoid brushing against him, she slipped past and hurried inside. As she gazed around the high-ceilinged lobby, her heart sped up. Instead of weaving through the milling crowd or waiting her turn tospeak to the clerk, Mother was nowhere in sight. Frantic, Addie searched the big room, her head spinning and panic crowding her throat.

The stranger touched her shoulder, nodding toward an arched doorway. Inside the dining hall, the dark-skinned man held a chair for her mother as she settled gracefully against the padded cushion.

Weak with relief, Addie reached for her bags. “Thank you. I can manage from here.”

He held them out of her reach. “They’re pretty heavy. Go on, and I’ll carry them to the table for you.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“It’s really no trouble.”

Her jaw tightened. “I wouldn’t dream of detaining you. I’ll take them now, so you and your friend can be on your way.”

He tilted his head, the effect on his appeal mesmerizing. “This is on my way. We were headed to the Ginocchio to eat.” He glanced toward her mother, holding a menu and conversing with a waiter. “I’m guessing the two of you were, too.”

Defeated more by his searching gaze than his answer, she bit back her objections and made her way to the table.

Mother seemed to miss the quizzical look Addie fired as she crossed the room. Instead, she nodded and smiled at something her new friend had said.

Incredibly, he had pulled out the chair next to her, draped a napkin over his arm, and proceeded to pour her a glass of water from a cut glass pitcher. Setting the container aside, he lurched to his feet as Addie approached.

“Say hello to Theodoro Bernardi of Galveston, dear,” Mother said. “By way of Sicily, that is. Theo’s family owns a restaurant near the shore. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Explains his accent
, Addie thought.
And his finesse with a pitcher
. She returned his nod of greeting, fighting the urge to shake her head in disbelief. Given three minutes or less, her mother had unearthed the man’s family history.

Mother lifted a dazzling smile to the man at Addie’s side. “According to Theo, this gracious fellow is Pearson Foster from Houston. It was his idea to help us, Addie.” She held out her hand. “Allow me to offer our thanks.”

Cupping her slender fingers in his palm, Mr. Foster gave a slight bow. “Like I told your sister here, it’s no trouble at all.”

Raising her hankie, Mother sought to hide a pleased grin. “Gracious, you do flatter. I’m her mother.” She blushed prettily. “But of course, you knew that.”

Genuine surprise flashed in his eyes. “On the contrary. It’s obvious you’re related, since you favor, but I’d never have guessed.”

Mother had met her match.

She withdrew her hand. “I’m Mariah McRae from Canton, Mississippi. The pretty and much younger girl at your side is my daughter, Adelina Viola.”

Addie cringed at the use of her formal name but stifled the urge to correct it. It didn’t matter what name he called her.

“Sit down, dear,” Mother said, “so these poor gentlemen can rest their feet.”

A twinkle of amusement in his eyes, Pearson held Addie’s chair while she reluctantly sat. With wide grins and a boisterous scraping of chairs, the blatant interlopers followed suit.

“There. You see, Addie?” Mother nodded firmly. “I asked God to provide in our hour of need, and He sent us these nice young men. I’m so grateful. Aren’t you?”

Addie focused on shaking out her napkin but couldn’t prevent her brows from rising. “Um … yes, ma’am. I suppose so.”

“You know,” Mother said, “there’s a passage in the Bible that reads, ‘Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.’ “She winked. “You two aren’t angels by any chance?”

Theo chuckled, the sound so merry Addie smiled despite herself. “Mrs. McRae, I assure you, angelic behavior is a thing we’ll never be accused of.”

Pearson pouted his lips. “Speak for yourself, old man. You’re dangerously close to hurting my feelings.”

Theo burst into laughter, joined by Mother and Pearson.

Glancing around, Addie blushed.

Nearby patrons looked on, some with amused expressions, others laughing along with them. Anyone passing the table would think they were dear old friends enjoying each other’s company instead of strangers who hadn’t been properly introduced.

“By the way,” Mother said, “Theo and I took the liberty of ordering for you both. I hope you won’t mind.”

Addie’s cheeks warmed. Of course she minded. Only a child needed its mother to order lunch.

Pearson grinned. “I don’t care, as long as he doesn’t try to eat it for me, too.”

Curious, Addie stole a peek at his face.

Glancing her way, he lifted one expressive brow. “Theo’s well acquainted with my likes and dislikes. We’ve been friends since his parents first came to this country. He didn’t speak a word of English for the first six months.” He shrugged. “Somehow we managed to communicate.”