Free Hunter's Prize by Marcia Gruver Page A

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.

FIVE
    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