Hunter's Prize Read Online Free PDF Page B

his chair. “Let’s get you home so you can wash up. Lumpy or not, you can’t sleep on my sofa without a soak in the tub. You stink.”
    Pearson sniffed his shirtsleeve. “It’s not so bad. I smell better than your quilt.”
    Theo tugged him toward the door. “Not unless it reeks of sunbaked codfish.” He grimaced. “Or the stench of a rotted octopus.”
    Rosie’s high-pitched cackle followed them out the door.
    The storm had passed, leaving a light drizzle behind and trailing dark, wispy clouds across the moon. The dim glow of the streetlamp lit their path to the wagon and the poor, wilted horse standing in a puddle of rainwater.
    Stopping short of the rig, Theo slapped his forehead and groaned. “Stupido! I forgot about him.”
    “So did I,” Pearson said. “Maybe he’ll forgive us if we get him to the barn and rub him down. If not, a few oats might do the trick. A little love and care goes a long way.”
    Tittering like a child again, Theo nudged him. “I think Pearl would like to give you a bit of loving care. With very little encouragement, she’d have you broken and stabled before you could whinny.”
    Pearson balled his fist and delivered a sound blow to Theo’s arm. “That’s why I won’t be encouraging her. I’m not ready to be gentled.” He shuffled sideways to dodge the return punch. “Besides, when I’m ready to be strapped to the feed bag, I’m not looking for Pearl’s brand of oats.”
    “Particular, aren’t you? Exactly what are you looking for?”
    Grabbing the wagon post, Pearson tensed to pull up on the seat. “I suppose I’ll know when I see her.”
    Theo caught his arm before he could board. “How long will it take you to pack for East Texas?”
    Pearson stifled a grin. “I never unpack my bags in Galveston. You know that.”
    “So when are you leaving?”
    “When are
we
leaving is the question.” He gripped Theo’s shoulder. “I want you to go with me.”
    Theo’s beaming face glowed in the streetlight. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask. Let’s go!”
    Pearson chuckled. “Not so fast, boy. The
Mittie’s
been at the bottom of Caddo Lake for thirty-six years. She’ll be there in a few more months.”
    “Why waste time?”
    “It’s the dead of winter, Theo. Too cold to dive. Besides, we need supplies. Special gear. Let me get back to Houston and pull a plan together. I’ll wire you when I’m ready to leave.”
    “How long?”
    Scratching his sandy scalp, Pearson ticked off the facts in his head. “Well … it’s mid-December, isn’t it?”
    Theo chuckled. “You don’t know?”
    “It’s hard to keep track of the date when you’re riding the Gulf in a dinghy.”
    Theo patted his shoulder. “Point made. It’s December 15th, to be exact. Nearly Christmastime.”
    Pearson nodded. “Then I say we slow down and enjoy the holidays. Let the weather warm up a tad. Come spring, plan to celebrate my birthday in East Texas.”
    “End of April?” Theo’s voice cracked with excitement. “Sounds right to me.”
    Pearson searched his eager face. “So it’s settled? You’re on board?”
    Hitching up his pants, Theo frowned. “Try and stop me. What town did the old man mention before? The place where we’ll find Catfish John?”
    “He said Marshall.” Staring toward the mainland, Pearson’s blood surged hot and fast in his veins. A familiar pull in his chest urged him toward the lure of treasure. “We’ll find what we need in Marshall, Texas.”

TWO
    Canton, Mississippi, March 1905
    A ddie McRae clutched the letter to her heart with both hands. The scent of lavender wafted up from the page and teased her nose, but the smell of freedom flared her nostrils. Determination surged, and excitement gripped her chest. Placing the delicate stationery onto her desk, she smoothed the creases from the dainty bluebonnet border and stared hard at the graceful scrawl.
    Therefore, with the tragic demise of my young nephew and his wife, I will soon find myself in dire