Hunter's Prize (31 page)

Priscilla shook her head. “I’ve given it careful thought, and I don’t think so. Ceddy was always upstairs or in the den with Lilah.”

“Are you sure?”

“I believe I am.”

Addie racked her mind. “Is that possible? I don’t … I honestly can’t remember.”

Falling against the padded seat, Priscilla heaved a ragged sigh. “Have we done the unthinkable, Addie? Have we offered Pearson our approval without allowing Ceddy a voice?”

Addie’s hand came up. “Stop it now. Pearson’s not capable of hurting Ceddy, and you know it.”

“I thought I did.” She gestured at Ceddy. “But look at him. You saw how he reacted to the man.”

Desperately shaking her head, Addie cringed at the terrible thought. “No.” She held up both hands. “I’ll never believe what you’re suggesting. Please don’t leap to judgment without proof. I’ve made that mistake, and it’s not fair.”

Priscilla caught Addie’s fingers and held them to her cheeks. “I’m sorry, but we must think of Ceddy. I know how fond you are of Pearson, but it’s time we faced the bitter truth.”

Pulling free of Priscilla’s grasp, Addie shifted in the seat. She needed time to think things through, time to find a way to exonerate Pearson. Because no matter what the “bitter truth” turned out to be, Addie wasn’t fond of him—she was completely, hopelessly in love with him.

Ceddy shuddered against her, and she drew him close, her feverish mind replaying the terrible scene at church.

One troubling memory niggled away at her mind. In the midst of the fracas, while Ceddy had been so distraught, one of the men with Pearson watched with an odd smirk on his face. It seemed a cruel reaction to a child’s pain. Whatever else happened, she didn’t relish seeing the horrible man ever again.

Pearson sat on the back row of pews, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. He’d never witnessed a child so frightened, and it shook him to the core. The awful sight also stirred the recurring nightmare of what his precious siblings had endured before the rush of water closed over their heads. Running his hands through his hair, he struggled with the jarring comparison.

Theo slid in beside him, his normally olive complexion bleached white with shock. “What happened to him?”

Pearson shook his head. “I’m still trying to figure it out.”

Reverend Stroud paused on his way up the aisle. “Fellows, there’s no sense going ahead with the service. No one’s able to pay attention. Let me close with a prayer for young Ceddy; then we’ll retire to the parsonage for lunch.”

Nudging Theo, he smiled. “Yes, I can cook. I’m a bachelor. I had to learn or starve.”

With the service officially closed, no one seemed in a hurry to leave. Groups of people stood around in clusters, whispering and shaking their heads.

His lips drawn in a firm line, the reverend took to the podium again. “I’m comforted by knowing none gathered here today will yield to gossip and malicious speculation, neither here nor outside this building. Let’s show our sister a bit of Christian charity.”

Passing sheepish glances, the congregation broke from their cliques and ambled quietly to the door.

A grim smile on his face, the reverend crossed the room to join Pearson and Theo. Gripping Pearson’s shoulder, he gave him a little shake. “Are you all right, son?”

Pearson sighed. “I’m worried about Ceddy.” He bit his lower lip. “Addie and Priscilla, too. Did you see their faces? I feared Priscilla might faint.”

“No one likes to see a child in distress, and it’s even harder in Ceddy’s case. Since he can’t express himself, you’re left trying to guess what ails him.” He patted Pearson’s back and glanced around the building. “What happened to your guests?”

Pearson shrugged. “They saw no reason to stay. I think they felt out of place and a little rattled, besides.”

The reverend nodded. “I’m sure they did.” He stared over his shoulder at the podium. “It’s a shame really. I prepared a nice message on forgiveness of sins. They looked the sort who might need to hear it.” He exhaled. “Maybe another time, huh?”

“I hope so.”

Theo, his mind forever stuck on food or pretty women, tugged the reverend’s sleeve. “Let’s hear more about this hidden talent of yours.”

Reverend Stroud chuckled. “My cooking?” Motioning at Pearson, he wound his arm around Theo’s neck and walked them to the door. “Why waste time talking when I’m prepared to prove my claim?”

Inside the parsonage, the man wasted no time showing off his skill. He whistled while he built a roaring fire. Then, excusing himself, he left the cabin with an ax and returned with a freshly plucked chicken. Singeing off the pinfeathers on the open flames, he took a cleaver and split the bird like the parting of the red sea. He wasted no time cutting it into pieces, handling the knife like an expert. Afterward, he floured, spiced, and fried them to a golden-crusted delight.

Delegating tasks to Pearson and Theo, they spread a well-rounded meal over the table and settled down to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

“You didn’t lie, sir,” Theo bragged. “You can cook.”

Reverend Stroud forked another leg onto Theo’s plate. “Flattery has its rewards, young man.” He peaked his brows. “And I’m not allowed to lie, remember?”

Groaning, Pearson pushed back his plate. “That was as good as anything I’ve eaten at Priscilla’s. In fact, I tasted Delilah’s fried chicken on Friday. It didn’t hold a candle to yours.”

The reverend touched his finger to his lips.
“Shhh
. Don’t let her hear you utter such sacrilege. Delilah’s known as the best cook in the county and takes pride in her reputation. If she knew she was only second place, it would crush her fragile spirit.”

Light dawning on his face, Theo pointed. “It’s you! You’re the best cook in Harrison County.”

The reverend’s laughter rumbled. “Keep that fact close to your chest, please. If the truth gets out, my congregation will stop inviting me to meals.”

Pearson took a big mouthful of creamed potatoes. “Given your talent with an iron skillet, I don’t know why you’d care.”

The reverend winked. “Because I can doesn’t mean I like to.” Leaning back in his chair, he patted his rounded belly. “I’m a little lazy, you see, a vice that’s gone a long way toward nurturing and cultivating this shameful paunch.”

They laughed together, Pearson enjoying the comfortable absence of decorum shared only with other men.

He and Theo insisted on helping to clear the table and wash dishes. Theo noticed the dwindling wood box and went outside to split logs.

Hanging the dried and oiled skillet on a hook by the stove, Pearson glanced at Reverend Stroud, busy drying and stacking plates. “Sir, what do you think happened to Ceddy?”

He raised his eyes. “Are you reading my mind now?” Sobering, he reached to place the clean dishes on a shelf. “I was just pondering the same. It came on so suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere.”

“Forgive me for asking, but was his outbreak so unusual? He’s a sweet boy, but he does have a nervous disposition.”

“Ceddy gets in a lather quite often, but never without cause. He’s set in his ways and doesn’t cotton much to change.” He shook his head. “But in all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him like he was today.”

Pearson shrugged. “So we’re back to my original question. What could’ve happened?”

Reverend Stroud folded the dish towel and leaned against the washstand. He seemed to be weighing his words before he spoke. “I’ve chewed on whether to mention this or not, but …”

Pushing the crock of melted grease to the back of the larder, Pearson turned to give the reverend his full attention. “Go on.”

“Perhaps by divine inspiration, I happened to be looking directly at Ceddy when he cried out. I watched him go from serenity to shock and then to terrible fear in the space of an upward glance.”

His grim expression shot prickles of dread up Pearson’s spine. “A glance at what?”

Compassion in his eyes, the reverend placed a hand on Pearson’s shoulder. “You, son. When you stood up with your guests, Ceddy was staring straight at you.”

Denny plopped on the thin mattress and pulled off his boots. “For the love of—” Scowling, he tossed one of them at the wall. It hit with a dull thud and slid to the floor. “Up before the sun to wash our merry faces and slick back our hair.” He cocked his arm and threw the other boot. “And all for naught.” He twisted to see Charlie better and frowned. “Didn’t even get an invite to the mansion.”

Charlie gaped at him. “What did you expect? The whole muddle was our fault.” His jaw slack with dread, he glanced at the ceiling. “We shut down a church service, Denny. What’s the penalty for that?”

“They’ll never pin it on us, you dolt.”

“I don’t mean them.” Charlie pointed toward the ceiling. “I’m talking about Him.”

Laughing, Denny grabbed a pillow from behind him and hurled it across the room. “You’re a right ignoramus, Charlie Pickering.”

Charlie dodged, a sheepish grin on his face. “I sure was scared. Suppose all those people find out why the lad was squealing?”

“Well, they won’t, will they?” He swung his legs over the bed, a thrill surging inside. “Do you know why they won’t find out?”

Charlie shook his head.

Leering, Denny drummed his fingertips on his forehead. “Because we’re too smart for ‘em.”

Standing, he walked to the window and leaned on the sill. “I’ll tell you another thing. We weren’t invited to tea at the mansion today, but we’re going anyway. I won’t be cheated out of it by that sniveling boy.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped. “Again?”

“That’s right, old boy.”

“But they almost caught us the last time.”

“We’ll have to be more careful, won’t we?” He pivoted on his heel. “It’s time to make our move, Charlie. I’m done wading through muck to see what those blokes mean to pull from that accursed lake. We’re going to Whitfield Manor, invited or not. Only this time we’re going inside.” He clenched his fists. “It’s high time we got a look at our bauble.”

A
ddie sat with Priscilla at Ceddy’s bedside. The poor child sobbed piteously and would not be consoled.

Delilah, wringing her hands in the corner, wiped her eyes on her apron and slipped toward the door. “I–I’ll be back, Miss Priscilla.”

Priscilla looked over her shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“To the den for jus’ a second. I got an idea.”

She returned quickly as promised, lugging the family Bible, and shoved it into Addie’s hands. “Try this, Miss Addie. His mama used to read aloud to him all the parts where it talk about stones. It soothe him somehow.”

Priscilla nodded. “That’s right, Lilah, she did. How clever of you to think of it.”

Ceddy wailed again, and Addie arched her brows. “I’ll try anything at this point.” Taking the book from Delilah, she spread it open on the bed. “Does anyone remember a passage right offhand?”

Priscilla leaned across and flipped the pages, coming to a stop in the book of Revelation. Sliding her finger along the margin, she came to rest on the twenty-first chapter and tapped the page. “Read this.”

Addie held the Bible up to the light. “‘And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high mountain, and shewed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God, Having the glory of God: and her light was like unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal.’”

Priscilla tapped again. “Now this.”

“‘And the building of the wall of it was of jasper: and the city was pure gold, like unto clear glass. And the foundations of the wall of the city were garnished with all manner of precious stones. The first foundation was jasper; the second, sapphire; the third, a chalcedony; the fourth, an emerald; The fifth, sardonyx; the sixth, sardius; the seventh, chrysolite; the eighth, beryl; the ninth, a topaz; the tenth, a chrysoprasus; the eleventh, a jacinth; the twelfth, an amethyst. And the twelve gates were twelve pearls; every several gate was of one pearl: and the street of the city was pure gold, as it were transparent glass.’”

Ceddy, his clenched fists buried in his eyes, grew still. His heartbreaking sobs quieted to shuddering hiccups.

“More,” Priscilla whispered.

“Where?” Addie said, her mind scrambling for pertinent scriptures.