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Authors: Marcia Gruver

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance

Hunter's Prize (23 page)

BOOK: Hunter's Prize
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Feeling up her arm, Ceddy’s eager fingers closed over the rock. Fumbling it away from her, he sat back on his heels. “Muh.”

“Yes, yours, and that be jus’ fine with me. I got no use for that shapeless old paperweight.”

Ceddy’s middle rolled and growled. Clutching his stomach, he tapped his mouth with his knuckles.

She laughed. “I reckon you is hungry.” She stroked the back of his head. “Trouble is I don’t think what you want is what you bound to get.”

He pushed her again.

Struggling to her feet, she groaned. “Wait jus’ a minute. Old Lilah don’t move so quick no mo’.” Patting his hand, she picked up the blanket, folded it, and tossed it on his bed. “Let’s get you dressed so we can go down to the kitchen.” Her growly voice lowered to where he barely heard the rest. “See if we can’t stir up some old, dried-out fruit. Maybe dip you out some honey or some fool thing. Never in all my days have I heard of giving a poor child—”

She twisted around. “Well, looky. Here’s Miss Addie now with your snack. You shouldn’t’ve troubled yourself, miss. I was on my way downstairs.”

“It was no trouble,” Miss Addie said. She swished past Ceddy with a tray and set it on the table. “I needed something to busy my hands.”

Something besides strangling the life out of one Pearson Foster
, Addie thought.

“I have a new treat to try today. One of my mother’s old recipes, and I think Ceddy will like it.” She lifted the dishcloth off the saucer of hasty pudding.

Delilah eyed the sticky-topped dish. “I thought you said no more sweets.”

“There’s no sugar in the batter and only a touch of honey on top. We’ll see how he does.”

“I can tell you how he gon’ do,” Delilah mumbled, “before he ever lay eyes on it.”

Ignoring her nay-saying tone, Addie crossed to the wardrobe. Nodding at the pitcher and bowl atop the washstand, she pulled out his clothes. “Wipe him down so I can dress him, please.”

With Ceddy scrubbed and combed, Addie sat beside him on the floor, his favorite place. Pretending far more confidence than she felt, she placed the dish in front of him. As an afterthought, she turned the saucer so he could reach the spoon, an addition to his mealtime routine he had finally accepted.

Ceddy wrinkled his nose and nudged it away with his knuckles.

Delilah’s low hum said, “I told you so.”

“Ceddy, please try some,” Addie pleaded. “I truly feel it’s for your own good.”

“He missing his treats, Miss Addie. Powerful bad. He cry and moan and hang on my skirts till he wearies me fit to be tied.”

“He’ll get used to the change.” She eased the pudding toward him again. “We have to give him time.”

Delilah sucked a breath through her nose, the cords in her neck protruding. “I don’t mean no disrespect, miss. I swear I don’t. Only I never heard such an outlandish notion. How could a little cane sugar hurt a body? Children grow up on they mama’s cakes and pies. I cain’t see how—”

Addie lifted one hand to shush her. Smiling, she tilted her head at Ceddy.

One small finger hooked the edge of the dish, teasing it closer. Gouging a hole in the pudding, he carefully tasted it. Swaying side to side, intent on spinning the white stone, he picked up another gooey scoop and crammed it in his mouth.

“Oh my, his spoon,” Addie said. Grinning at Delilah, she shook her head. “I don’t even care. We’ll work on etiquette the next time.”

Priscilla appeared at the door suppressing a yawn. “Here you all are. Where is Mr. Foster? The reverend is ready to leave, and I’ve summoned the carriage.”

Pushing to her feet, Addie crossed to the basin and dipped the corner of a towel. “I don’t know where Mr. Foster might’ve gone. I saw him briefly in the parlor, but he left before I did.” She dropped to her knees and wiped Ceddy’s hands. “Maybe he returned to looking at the servants’ quarters.”

Delilah picked up the empty saucer from the floor. “I’ll look in the kitchen, Miss Priscilla. If he in there, I’ll send him out front.”

“Thank you,” Priscilla said as she slipped past.

Taking a backward step, Priscilla gazed down the hall until Delilah’s footsteps echoed from the stairs. Then she entered and closed the door.

“Addie, I’ve made a decision about Mr. Foster. I don’t see him capable of evil in any form.” Her brows rose in a hesitant question. “Don’t you agree?”

Choosing her words carefully, Addie shook her head. “I don’t think he hurt Ceddy, if that’s what you mean.”

Priscilla clutched her hands. “I’m so happy you concur. He’s such an agreeable young man.” She smiled. “Actually, both he and Theo are a pleasure to be around. I do enjoy their company.” She chuckled, staring over Addie’s head. “They tell the most amusing stories about growing up together on the seashore. I laughed at their antics until I grew hoarse.” Sobering, she glanced at Ceddy. “Of course, I’ll continue to watch his interaction with my nephew … just in case.” She placed a hand on Addie’s shoulder. “But my heart tells me we should look elsewhere for our culprit.”

Addie nodded and tossed the soiled towel toward the hamper. “I think that’s a wise decision, Priscilla.”

TWENTY-ONE

R
everend Stroud went straight to work the next morning and convinced a few members of his congregation to lend their idle hands to something other than the devil’s workshop—evidenced by a six-man crew descending on Pearson and Theo as they were beginning to tear out the rotted interior walls of the chosen servants’ cottage.

Glancing up as the reverend appeared on the threshold, Pearson offered a warm smile. “The cavalry?”

“I’m a man of my word, son.” He flashed a crooked grin. “Come to think of it, I’m a man of God’s Word. Either way, I have to keep my promises.” Shaking Theo’s shoulder playfully, he picked up a jellied biscuit from the platter provided by Delilah. “Ever notice how similar the word
cavalry
is to
Calvary
? Both are instruments of rescue, and in your case”—he pointed at the members of his flock—”both terms are appropriate.”

“And I’m grateful to God for both,” Pearson said, ducking his head when Theo shot him a startled glance.

The reverend rolled his shoulders and flexed his hands. “Now then, gentlemen … what can I say to help?”

Grinning, Pearson braced his knuckles on his hips. “You can start with a prayer, sir. Nothing else will get this place livable.”

The unflappable man nudged him. “Oh ye of little faith. These fine men can raise a barn in an afternoon. They’ll have this done quick as a wink.”

Patting his back, Pearson laughed. “They have considerably more time than a wink. We’re paid up at the Ginocchio through the next two weeks.”

The reverend drew back and stared. “Two weeks? They can restore the whole wing in that amount of time. You’ll each have a place of your own when we’re done.”

Caught off guard, Pearson gazed around at the crowd of men. “You’d do that for us?”

“We would, though Priscilla will benefit as well. She’s been worried about the state of these old houses for too long.”

Pearson offered his hand. “I’m humbled by your kindness.” Nodding at the circle of beaming faces, his chest swelled. “And by your sacrifice.”

The men filed past, smiling and shaking his hand, then set to work.

Last in line, Reverend Stroud caught Pearson’s fingers in a firm grip. “It’s what we do. And speaking of one’s vocation, how will you two raise a lost steamboat while you’re swinging hammers and sawing boards?”

Pearson handed him another biscuit then took one for himself. “We planned to get a start here and then head on out to the lake. Our hired hands should be on their feet and ready to go by then.” He grimaced. “Those two have a hard time finding the floor in the mornings.”

“Late sleepers?”

Pearson nodded. “Something like that.”

The reverend nodded thoughtfully. “In this case, you have to take on whoever’s willing, I suppose.”

Through the hammering and ripping of old lumber, a knock sounded at the open door. A timid Delilah peeked around the jamb, searching the dim room. “Reverend? You be in there?”

He strode toward her. “I’m here, Delilah.”

“Miss Priscilla saw all those rigs pull around back and knowed you had a hand in it somehow. She sent me out to fetch you up to the house for breakfast.” Her eyes cut over to Pearson. “She say to bring all of you.” A worried frown creased her brow. “You’d best throw down those trifling biscuits and don’t tell Miss Priscilla I brung ‘em out here. She say to come hungry.”

Addie stood before the gilded mirror and stared at her ashen face. Since the moment she’d spotted Pearson from her window, her heart hadfluttered near her throat. The sight of him likely marked the first of many mornings she’d need to battle her rage.

Calling on a lifetime of breeding, she took a deep breath and steeled her spine. At Priscilla’s request, she’d go to breakfast and treat him civilly at the table. Civil, in this case, had little to do with warmth, and Pearson would understand the difference very soon.

He said the more she withdrew, the more determined he’d become to befriend her. “Humph! Prepare to become most determined, sir,” she told her scowling reflection.

She turned at a knock on the door. “Yes, come in.”

Delilah poked her head inside. “Miss Priscilla say hurry down those stairs. You have guests to entertain.”

“Where’s Ceddy?”

“Fed, clean, and spinning wooden soldiers in his room. Never saw a child play in such a peculiar way with his toys.”

“Thank you, Delilah. Will you be able to sit with him while I’m at breakfast?”

“That’s where I be headed now.” She grinned. “Reckon I’ll sit and spin right along with him.”

Addie laughed and gave her hair a final pat before starting for the door. “Well, mind you don’t get dizzy.”

Mingled voices greeted her as she descended to the hall. Swallowing hard, she opened the door on the long dining table and Priscilla’s boisterous laughter.

“Here she is now. Take a seat, please, Addie, so these fellows can start.” She unfolded her napkin onto her lap. “They’ve waited so long for you they’re bound to be starved.”

Two men leaped up at once to pull out her chair. Though seated right next to her, Pearson wasn’t one of them.

Gritting her teeth, Addie pasted on a broad smile. “My apologies, gentlemen. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

“Quite all right, young lady,” the reverend said. “You’re a vision this morning and worth the wait.”

Nods and mumbles of agreement circled the table, Pearson conspicuous in his silence.

Addie flashed a smile. “Why, thank you. Now who can pass me the jelly?”

Reverend Stroud held up his hand. “May we ask God’s blessing first?”

Cheeks flaming, Addie folded her hands in her lap. The reverend would think her an infidel, and it was Pearson’s fault. He kept her in a constant state of distraction. Her humiliation wasn’t fair, considering the true heretic seated at breakfast was Pearson, given his aversion to prayer—a fact witnessed the day they met.

“Pearson?” Reverend Stroud glanced his way. “Would you mind offering our thanks?”

Addie’s stomach sank. Despite Pearson’s insufferable arrogance, she didn’t want him to be embarrassed. A man like him likely didn’t know how to pray.

His cheeks colored a bit, but he promptly bowed his head.

Addie followed suit, waiting breathlessly to see what he could possibly scramble to offer.

“Great and gracious heavenly Father—”

Startled, she jerked her head up. Feeling like the word
infidel
might be an appropriate description for her, she hurriedly lowered it and closed her eyes.

“—we thank You for Your bounty and ask Your blessing on this food and those who partake of it. We humbly ask for guidance and protection as we start another day.”

He said more, closing by invoking the Savior’s name, but Addie’s fevered mind had strayed. How was it possible? The person who squirmed uncomfortably through a prayer the day they met had offered an eloquent, heartfelt blessing.

She glanced at the reverend, his cheeks bulging with food. Had the man of God wrought a miracle in such a short time?

Priscilla passed the scrambled eggs to Reverend Stroud. “What’s the state of our repairs, then? Are the buildings worth saving?”

BOOK: Hunter's Prize
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ads

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