Hunter's Prize (8 page)

“How long has it been?” Mother asked.

Theo pinched his bottom lip. “Let me see … we came to Galveston in April of ‘91, on Pearson’s tenth birthday. I remember because his mother crossed the street to invite me to his party.” He winked at Pearson. “I was his favorite birthday present.”

Pearson folded his arms on the table, a relaxed smile on his face. “My only present that year, as I recall. I’ve tried to return him ever since.”

“Your birthday’s in April, then? What day?”

Addie shot a warning scowl across the bread basket. “Mother, please.”

“The twentieth,” Pearson said, ignoring her.

Delight lit her mother’s pretty face. “For goodness’ sake! You share birthdays with Addie. Isn’t that a wonderful coincidence?”

Leaning back in his chair, he flashed Addie a warm smile. “I think it is.”

“Of course she’s a bit younger,” Mother continued. “You’re twenty-four by my calculations. She just turned twenty-two.”

Compelled to stop her before she revealed the color of their bloomers, Addie swiveled toward Theo. “When will you be returning to Galveston?”

A hush fell over the table, magnifying the murmur of voices and the clink of eating utensils in the room. Before she could recover from her inappropriate question, the waiter delivered four lovely salads to the table, bowed at the waist, and backed away.

Addie licked her lips and tried again. “I meant to say, are the two of you here on business?”

Theo picked up his napkin. “Well, miss, the length of our stay is up to the boss here.” He jabbed a forkful of lettuce and got it halfway to his mouth before Mother cleared her throat. With a startled glance, he lowered the food to his plate.

Mother tilted her head and shot Pearson a winsome smile. “Do you mind if we say grace?”

Drawing a deep breath, he folded his hands in his lap. “Not at all, ma’am.” The words were right, but the slight buckling between his brows said otherwise.

His reaction surprised Addie so completely she scarcely heard the prayer. She found his discomfort so unexpected, her unruly eyes wouldn’t stay off him throughout the rest of the meal—a meal that passed in a blinding flash of lively conversation and pleasant laughter.

Pearson explained that they were in the wrecker business—adding “sort of” in a most mysterious tone—and in Marshall on an expedition to raise a shipwrecked steamboat from nearby Caddo Lake.

Mother asked a few polite questions, but their answers were vague, so she tactfully steered the conversation to safer ground.

Once Addie relaxed, she began to enjoy herself. The Ginocchio salad was a first for her, but she vowed it wouldn’t be her last. Both men seemed content to focus on conversing with her mother, so Addie was free to sit back and savor every bite.

“I’m mostly a meat and potatoes man,” Pearson said, talking around a generous bite. “But this is really good.”

Theo shoved in the last bit he could scrape from his plate. “I’m a pasta and sauce man myself, but I have to agree.”

They laughed together while Pearson signaled the waiter and handed him several wrinkled bills.

Mother held up her hand. “No, dear. It’s my treat. It’s the least I can do after you two came to our rescue.”

“Sorry, ma’am, it’s taken care of.” He ducked his head at the waiter. “Go ahead, sir, and keep the change.”

“Well then—” Mother pushed back her chair and stood while the others followed suit. She held out her hand to Pearson with a big smile. “I don’t know what to say, except thank you. You’re very kind.”

A faraway look crossed his face, and a tinge of sadness darkened his eyes. “You’re very welcome, Mrs. McRae. I’d like to think someone would offer the same courtesy to my mother and sister.” His throat rose and fell. “If they were still with us, that is.”

Mother’s chin jerked up. “Oh Pearson. Do you mean—?”

“Yes, ma’am. I lost them, along with the rest of my family. Almost five years ago now, in the great storm on Galveston Isle.”

Addie’s heart stirred to pity. She knew which storm he meant. News of the terrible hurricane that swept over the island, washing hundreds of people into the sea, had spread quickly. Shocked by the dreadful report, the citizens of Canton mourned the tragic loss for days.

Her mother reached for Pearson’s hand, gripping so hard her knuckles turned white. “I’m so sorry, dear boy. It must’ve been a devastating loss. But how fortunate that you were spared.”

Blushing, he blinked rapidly and turned his face aside. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Catching Theo’s sleeve, he shook him gently. “Are you ready, old boy? We have work to do, and we’d best get at it.”

Mother gave his hand a final pat then turned him loose. “Yes, we need to get started ourselves. We’re running late for an appointment.”

Addie glanced at her. How could one be late to an appointment they’d never set?

She leaned to pick up her bags, but Pearson’s long fingers closed over the handles. With a combination smirk and challenging smile, he hoisted them and nodded at the door.

Theo collected Mother’s two cases, and they followed her out to the street.

Fishing in her handbag, she brought out the letter from Miss Whitfield and held up the envelope. “I realize you’re new in town as well, but do you have any idea where we might find this address?”

Theo shoved back his cap and whistled. “You don’t have to be around Marshall long to hear of Whitfield Manor. It’s the grandest place in town.”

Mother brightened. “Is it close by? Within walking distance?”

Pearson shook his head. “It’s not too far, but you’ll have to hire a ride.” He pointed. “The house is built on a rise a few miles outside of town. You could see it from here, if not for the trees.”

Theo flagged a passing carriage and announced their destination to the driver. While he loaded the luggage, Pearson offered his arm to help them board. Grinning and waving merrily, the men stood on the street and saw them on their way.

As soon as she could speak without being heard, Addie spun on the seat. “Heavens, Mother, what were you thinking? Those two weren’tthe sort of men we should take up with in a strange town. What would Father say?”

Mother drew back and frowned. “Theo and Pearson? What was wrong with them?”

“They were entirely too forward for one thing. And far too familiar for strangers.”

She laughed. “Nonsense, Addie. I’m a fair judge of character, if I say so myself. And I believe I proved it just now.” She nodded firmly. “My instincts about those two bore out. They were wonderful young men and perfect gentlemen.”

Addie widened her eyes. “But they looked so … so coarse, for lack of a better word.” The warning glance from under her mother’s lashes wilted Addie’s smug indignation.

“Character isn’t always reflected on the surface, young lady. One look at Theo’s bright smile and the sincerity in Pearson’s brown eyes, and I knew we were in safe hands.” She nudged Addie with her elbow. “Don’t act as if they didn’t intrigue you. Especially Pearson. I didn’t miss how closely you watched him.”

Addie’s gaze leaped to the back of the driver’s head. “Mother! Keep your voice down. I was only—”

“Pearson’s a very attractive man, which you can’t deny. If I’d judged your father on his rough-and-tumble appearance, I’d never have given him a second glance.” Smiling, she stared across Addie’s shoulder into the past. “I saw straight through his cocky boasts and swaggering posture to the wonderful man that he is.” Back in the present, she winked at Addie. “In the nick of time, too. He almost got away.”

Addie shrugged, feigning interest in a passing stand of trees. “Please don’t compare your courtship with Father to a brief encounter with a strange man.” She rolled her eyes. “And I emphasize
strange.”
She focused on her lap, twirling a loose string on the index finger of her glove. “Besides, they’ll finish their business in Marshall and go back to where they’re from. Chances are I’ll never see Mr. Foster again.”

A knowing look on her face, Mother tilted up Addie’s chin, her slender fingers adjusting the brim of her hat. “I wouldn’t count on it, honey. I saw the way he looked at you, too.”

Shifting away to hide the flush that warmed her face, Addie fiddled with the row of pearl buttons on her sleeves. “Don’t be silly. How could he look at me when he never took his eyes off you?”

Pearson’s handsome profile swam in Addie’s mind, with his straight nose and strong chin, his peculiar hair, and the haughty smile he gave her—infuriating yet titillating at the same time.

Flustered, she dismissed him with a shake of her head. “I’d prefer we change the subject. I have more important things to occupy my mind.” She settled against the seat with a sigh. “Besides, the whole conversation is ridiculous.”

“Premature, perhaps,” Mother said. “Hardly ridiculous.” Her almond eyes softened. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m not suggesting you cavort with strange men while you’re in Marshall. Your father would have our hides.” Reaching for Addie’s hand, she squeezed. “Just don’t limit God’s ability to bring two people together.” She held up one finger. “In a proper and respectable way, of course. After all, He managed things quite nicely for your father and me.” Nudging Addie again, she chuckled. “Lucky for you, as it turns out. Otherwise, where would you be?”

Addie laughed and leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t be, I suppose.”

“The ways of God are wonderful,” Mother said, caressing her cheek. “His generous heart unsearchable. It’s important to keep watch at all times, allow Him to orchestrate your destiny. You never know what amazing gifts He has in store, and you don’t want to miss a thing.”

A large house loomed as they crested the hill, its tall white columns stark against the bright blue Texas sky.

Addie’s breath caught and her stomach tensed. “Oh Mother, that must be Whitfield Manor. I can hardly believe we’re finally here.”

The driver took the sharp curve at the top of the rise then turned into the circular driveway and pulled up in front. The two-story, redbrick building sat off the back side of the gently sloping lot, the crawl space concealed by white lattice. Matching windows fronted the house, four on the bottom and four on top, each as tall and wide as the door and framed in bright white borders. Another lofty casement sat atop the door, with more windows and columns lined up around the corner.

Her mother sighed with pleasure. “It is quite impressive, isn’t it?”

Addie inhaled sharply. “More grand than I could’ve imagined.”

The driver helped them down to the stone walkway then scurried to the rear to unload their baggage.

Mother turned with a stern look on her face. “Now remember, Adelina, let me do the talking.”

Would there be any way to stop her? Addie wondered. Of course, she didn’t say so.

T
he air in Miss Whitfield’s spacious study smelled of starched curtains and leather chairs. Each time the kind-faced lady shifted in her seat, a hint of lavender-scented soap drifted across in pleasing waves. She smiled sweetly at Addie then tilted her head at Mother. “Thomas’s letter overflowed with praise for your daughter, Mrs. McRae, but never once mentioned how lovely she is.”

Mother sat up straighter and preened. “Why, thank you. Addie’s our firstborn, the eldest of four girls. Their father and I are proud of each and every one.”

Miss Whitfield clasped her hands at her chest. “Four wonderful daughters. My, who wouldn’t be proud?”

The women beamed at each other across the heavy oak desk, and Addie felt the first surge of hope. If things continued to progress so pleasantly, Mother would soon be on her way back to Canton, and Addie could begin her life in Texas as Cedric Whitfield’s governess. Consumed by curiosity, she had craned her neck from the moment a maid in a ruffled cap admitted them into the cavernous front hall. So far, there’d been no sign of a little boy.

“How long have you known our Dr. Moony?”

The translucent glow of Miss Whitfield’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Thomas and I attended school together up north. He went on to pursue a higher education, and I wound up in Marshall. We haven’t seeneach other since, but we never lost touch.” She smiled wistfully. “You might say we’re kindred spirits.”

“Oh, what a shame,” Mother said. “You know he’s a widower now.”

Miss Whitfield’s head came up. “Yes, Thomas wrote me.”

Addie inhaled sharply and sat forward. She’d caught the meddling spark in her mother’s eye.

The rascal reached across the desk and patted Miss Whitfield’s hand. “If you enjoyed each other’s company so much, why did you allow a separation?”

Groaning inside, Addie clenched her fists in her lap. Her coveted position—and the shade of Miss Whitfield’s bloomers—was in jeopardy.

“What brought you to Marshall, ma’am?” she asked quickly, hoping to steer the conversation to safer ground. “Do you have family here?”

Pulling her startled gaze from Mother, a bit of color returned to the poor woman’s face. “I did at the time. My father was a shrewd businessman, you see. Forty years ago, Marshall was the fifth-largest city in Texas.” She lifted her chin. “A prosperous Confederate city. Somehow, despite the eventual occupation by Union forces, Daddy maintained control of his vast holdings. He built this old house, and we’ve been here ever since.”

“He did well for himself,” Mother said. “He’s made a lovely home for you here.”

Miss Whitfield smiled. “I haven’t confessed the whole story, I’m afraid. My father didn’t amass all of his fortune from that unfortunate war. We’re old money, as pompous and posturing as it sounds. Daddy brought his fortune with him when he came to this country. He was quite the philanthropist, however, and I’m quite proud of the good things he accomplished with our wealth.” A faraway look crossed her face. “We had hoped Cedric would one day fill his shoes. He stands to inherit all of this one day, only—”

She sniffed demurely and folded her hands on top of the desk. “Speaking of Ceddy, I suppose we should begin the interview.”

Thankfully, Mother stood, gathering her parasol and gloves. “The two of you have quite a lot to discuss, and I’m sure you don’t need me. If you’ll direct me to the parlor, I’ll wait there for my daughter.”