Hunter's Prize (16 page)

Denny shoved him against the back of the chair. “Like me?” He snorted. “Did you see his frilly white shirt with the ruffled collar and cuffs? Those leather shoes with the perky bows? Just one of those shoes cost a month’s wage for the likes of us, Charlie Pickering.” He pointed a trembling finger, his voice shaking. “That boy’s life is nothing like mine.”

Reclining against the seat, he crossed his legs and stared out the front window. “We’ll take that job all right.” He absently stroked his chin. “We’ll bide our time, get close to those two blokes. Maybe they’ll lead us right inside the house.” A slow smile crept over his face. “Who knows? We could be sipping tea and nibblin’ biscuits at Ceddy Whitfield’s table.”

Charlie leaned closer. “You reckon?” He beamed stupidly. “I’d like that.”

“Meanwhile, we’ll follow them wherever they go. The first chance I get to lay me hands on that boy, I’m takin’ it.”

Pearson strolled onto the porch ahead of Theo, searching the street for signs of Addie McRae. Spotting the back of her carriage turning toward the hill, he let go a deep sigh. Why did that little girl persist in running away from him? Even more distressing, why did he care?

“Why’d you go and hire those men?” Theo demanded behind him. “They know less about the
Mittie
than we do.”

“You’re the one who marched us to their table.”

“It’s a little hard to tell a man’s foreign from across the room.”

“We need help,” Pearson said over his shoulder. “They looked able to haul a dragline. Right now, I’d hire old women.”

“Old women might be more helpful. We don’t know what we’re doing, Pearson. Or where to start. We need locals.”

Pearson turned and swept his hand up the street. “Find me a local, and I’ll hire him.”

Theo stood in front of a bulletin board nailed against the wall, his fists on his hips. “I hope you mean that.” Motioning to Pearson, he moved aside to make room. Planting his finger against a handwritten notice tacked to the board, he nodded. “Here’s where we’ll find all the laborers we need.”

Pearson read the first few lines then scowled. “A church social?”

Theo nodded. “Of course. It’s perfect.”

Feeling smothered, Pearson stalked away. “I don’t think it’s perfect.”

“Sure it is, Pearce. The whole town turns out for these things.”

Waving his hand behind him, he drew a deep breath. “If you want to, go ahead. But count me out.”

“It’s just a church service, buddy. I remember a time when you wouldn’t miss one.”

“That was a long time ago.”

Theo stood quietly for too long. It didn’t bode well. “Come on, paisan. What happened to you?”

First Addie’s stinging rebuke, and now this? Could the day get any worse? “I know you mean well, Theo, but change the subject.”

Theo shook his head. “Not this time. Look, friend … you’ve kept this feud with the Almighty going for five years. Don’t you think it’s time you made peace?”

Anguish washed over Pearson, as fresh as the day his family died. Gripping the arm of a nearby bench, he lowered his body before his trembling legs gave out. “Mind your own business.”

Theo spun closer, surprising Pearson with tear-filled eyes. “It is my business. I spent more time in your house than my own, more time at your mama’s table than mine.” A wobbly grin slipped through his grief. “We both know it wasn’t because of her cooking.” “So?”

“So I know the thing that made them proudest of you was yourfaith. I also know that if Mama Foster was here, she’d be sad to see you’ve shut God out.”

Pearson’s throat threatened to close on his pain. When he could speak, his protest came out a croak. “But she’s not here, is she? Neither is Pa, my brother, or my sister.” He swiped at his eyes. “That little girl was three years old. She never had a chance at life.”

“Thousands perished that night, Pearson. God didn’t single out your family to die.”

“I never said He did.”

Theo splayed his hands. “Then what? What do you blame Him for?”

Leaning over, Pearson gripped his head in his hands. “For singling me out to live.”

Scalding tears dripped onto his boot and slid over the side, washing the dust away in little rivulets.

Theo crossed the porch and gripped his shoulder. “I’m going to that service tomorrow. I really hope you’ll join me. It’s time you forgave yourself for being alive.”

A
ddie hurried downstairs and lit out for the dining room, late for breakfast again. She hadn’t quite settled into life at Whitfield Manor, and her duties to Ceddy kept her jumping. There seemed never enough time in the harried mornings to wash up, air out her uniform, arrange her curls, and find her place at the table before Delilah appeared with the food.

Dreading her employer’s disapproving glance, Addie slid to a stop outside the door to check her hair and smooth her apron.

“Addie, is that you? You’re not dawdling behind the doorpost again.”

Addie’s shoulders drooped in defeat. “Yes, ma’am.” She sighed. “I mean, yes, it’s me.”

“Stop lurking, dear, and come inside.”

Drawing a quick breath, she charged into the fray. “Morning, Priscilla. So sorry I’m late.”

The woman’s forehead drew to a troubled knot. “What are you wearing, Adelina?”

Addie paused with one hand on the back of her chair and gazed down at her skirt. “I’m sorry. I tried to press out the wrinkles, but my time grew short.”

“I don’t mean the state of your clothing, child. I’m referring to what you have on. Are you going to church in your uniform?”

Addie gave her a vacant stare. “Oh my. Today’s the Sabbath? I completely lost track of the days.”

Priscilla picked up her knife and spread a thin layer of butter over a slice of toast. “Get back on track, if you please. I’d like you to accompany me this morning.” Her head tipped toward a vacant place at the table. “Sit down before the grease on your eggs congeals any further, and then you can go upstairs and change. I promised your mother I’d see to your spiritual welfare, and I always keep a promise.”

“What about Ceddy?”

“He’s going with us. Delilah won’t be here to watch him. She worships with her family on Sunday mornings.”

Addie fingered the folds of her uniform. “As Ceddy’s governess, shouldn’t I leave this on if we’re going to town?”

Priscilla wiped her mouth. “In one of those pompous homes up north, perhaps. We’re far less formal around here. I won’t require you to wear that dour old thing to God’s house.”

“Well … if you’re sure.”

“Yes.” Priscilla nodded firmly. “I am. I should think you’d relish the chance to show off those pretty spring dresses in your wardrobe. I must say your parents provided well for you.” She flashed a sweet smile. “Besides, Addie … you’re not just Ceddy’s governess. I consider you a friend.”

Heat rose to Addie’s cheeks. She slid into her seat, unfolding her napkin in the same motion and laying it across her lap. “I’m honored. I want you to know I feel the same.”

“Then it’s settled. I’m going to show off my new friend to my church fellowship.”

Addie beamed. “That sounds lovely.”

Delilah bustled in, snatching up serving trays and wiping away scattered crumbs. She startled, one hand on the coffee decanter, when Priscilla abruptly cleared her throat. “What are you doing, Delilah? Leave those, please. We’re not done eating.”

Delilah licked her bottom lip and glanced over her shoulder at the grandfather clock. “You ain’t?”

“As you can clearly see, we’ve hardly touched our plates. I know you’re in a rush to be on your way, but allow us to finish our breakfast, please, before you clear the table. In the meanwhile, lay out warm clothing for Ceddy. It actually resembles a winter morn outside, though I doubt the chill will linger past noon.”

Addie swallowed a bite of toast and nodded. “The weather has been quite mild and pleasant. I hate to see it end.”

Delilah still hovered, thoughtfully gnawing her bottom lip.

“Didn’t you hear me, Delilah?” Priscilla swirled her index finger, motioning her out of the room. “Go on with you now and allow us to eat.”

“Yes’m.” Settling the platter of bacon with a wobble and replacing the silver urn, Delilah backed toward the kitchen door, a troubled frown on her face.

Priscilla sat back in her chair with a sigh. “Oh, for pity’s sake. Fry a fresh egg for Addie then go on and leave. This mess can wait until you return. I won’t be held accountable to God if the St. Paul Baptist choir lacks a contralto.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Delilah said, stressing both words with equal fervor and a bright smile. “I’ll bring that egg right away.” She left in a rush, leaving Addie and Priscilla chuckling after her.

They ate quietly, accompanied by the clink of silverware on china and the steady tick of the tall clock. Growing increasingly aware of Priscilla’s watchful eyes, Addie glanced up. “Do you need something, ma’am?”
Priscilla
,
Priscilla
,
Priscilla
, she chided herself. Why was it so hard to remember the woman’s preference?

Studying the delicate face, etched with concern, Addie realized the reason why. Miss Whitfield reminded her very much of Miss Vee, her childhood governess and family friend. She held such respect and reverence for the old dear, she couldn’t call her Viola if she tried. Not only that, but Addie’s parents had distilled in her a proper respect for the elderly. Priscilla Whitfield’s request was in opposition to years of parental training.

Thankfully, whatever was on her mind seemed to take precedence over how she should be addressed. “I’ve been thinking all night about Ceddy’s … episode … in the hotel restaurant.” She crinkled her brow. “What do you suppose got into him?”

Addie cleared her throat. “His behavior was that much out of character?”

Priscilla nodded. “Indeed, even for Ceddy.”

Addie laid down her fork and rested her elbows on the table, her hands folded under her chin. “He seemed afraid of something.”

“Yes, I agree. Terrified, in fact.” Pain flashed over Priscilla’s face. Ittwists my heart in knots when that boy has a need he can’t communicate and I can’t cipher. I feel as though I’ve failed him.”

Addie leaned to touch her hand. “You mustn’t think that way.”

“It’s hard not to. I’m responsible for a boy who’s a riddle, and I lack intuitive skills.” She glanced up. “Unlike you, Addie. Just a few days with Ceddy, and already you sense when his cries are because of a stomachache or when his fits are due to frustration. It’s quite a gift, dear.”

Flattered, Addie lowered her lashes. “More experience than a gift, I think. I’ve worked with children from an early age, and my house is filled to the rafters with younger siblings.”

“Call it what you will. I consider it an answer to prayer.” She turned her hand over and squeezed Addie’s fingers. “Thank you for staying.”

Their eyes held until Delilah burst in, sliding a golden-topped egg onto Addie’s plate. With one quick motion, she scooped the ruined egg onto the same dish and scurried for the door, untying her apron. “Thank you kindly, Miss Priscilla,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

Priscilla sat up and stared. “Mercy! I’ve seen lightning move slower. Yet when I ask her to hurry, she creeps about moaning and clutching her back.”

Addie grinned. “Is she like this every Sunday morning?”

Priscilla reached for a triangle of toast and dipped her spoon in the jam. “Yes, she is. I’ve often wondered what they’ve got going in their house of worship that we’re missing in ours. Personally, I’ve never been in such a rush to get to church.” She winked. “Maybe we should abandon our plans and join Delilah?”

The grandfather clock let out a series of no-nonsense gongs, drawing Priscilla’s eyes to its ornate face. “I suppose you’d best get that egg down and go dress. Our service starts in one hour.”

Suddenly starved, Addie obediently tucked into her food, finishing with a last bite of buttered biscuit and the dregs of her glass of milk.

In her room, she laid out her favorite dress, the pale blue taffeta with lace collar and sleeves, so striking against her dark hair. It was her father’s favorite, too, and she smiled fondly remembering his proud grin when she wore it.

The thought of his dear, trusting face pained her stomach and made her furious with Mr. Foster all over again. The thought that anyone would seek to dishonor her parents’ marriage boiled the blood in herveins. How dare the pompous dandy? Did he presume to think his attention would flatter her mother? That she would for a single moment think to hide the note from Father?

Before, Pearson’s arresting good looks drew her wistful thoughts to him. Now he seemed dark and ugly despite his sun-washed hair and the golden glow of his skin. What mischief had he been about in the restaurant with his ridiculous invitation to a picnic? Wasn’t the clandestine note to a married woman bad enough? Did he think to use Addie to get to her mother?

Priscilla had been shocked that they’d shared a lunch with two strange men. If she ever realized what Addie knew about the letter she’d mailed, she’d be scandalized.

“Addie?” Her tinny voice echoed from the stairs, jerking Addie’s head toward the door.

One thing was certain … Addie wouldn’t tell her. The thought of such behavior burned her cheeks with shame. She couldn’t imagine voicing her suspicions aloud. Stopping briefly at the mirror to pin on her hat and straighten her sash, she grabbed her parasol and hurried down the hall.

Priscilla peered up from the bottom landing and smiled. “Are we ready?”

Addie gave a jaunty nod. “We’re ready. I’ve dressed Cedric in long pants. Just let me get him from his room.”

Downstairs, Priscilla led the procession onto the wide porch and down the steps where the carriage waited.

Despite the predicted chill in the air, warm sun rays on Addie’s shoulders promised it wouldn’t last. She drew her light shawl around herself and smiled. They were in for a beautiful day.

The ride seemed over before it started as the driver pulled up to a handsome brick building overlooked by a tall steeple. Leaping down, he helped first Priscilla then Addie and the boy to the ground.