Prize of My Heart

Louder stole a sidelong glance at Lorena, his look one of frustrated love. In that unguarded moment he appeared to Brogan to be immobilized by her elegance and beauty. Then he straightened and nodded courteously to his employer, saying, “Thank you, sir, but I promised Edward Hicks and his wife I would join them.”


“Very well then, George. Enjoy the services and a good day to you.”

“Good day, sir.”

Looking thoughtful, Huntley watched as Louder departed, then turned to kiss his daughter’s smooth cheek. “Is something troubling George, dear?” He lowered his voice and added, “He cares deeply for you, you know.”

To Brogan’s dismay, Miss Huntley responded with a becoming blush. “Papa . . . please.”

Ah, he thought. A rival for the lady’s affections. But where Louder’s romantic attentions had been spurned this morning, Brogan was determined his would not be. The smile he bestowed on Lorena left no doubt to anyone watching ’twas meant for her and her alone.

She regarded him warily from beneath a bonnet of bright yellow satin, its brim so wide it created a funnel around her face. A puffy bow dangled from one side of her chin.

Louder had obviously said something to upset her, but what? And why had Brogan gotten the impression there was a more personal slight behind Louder’s haughty stare than any annoyance he might have felt over Lorena’s rejection?

Questions for another time perhaps.

“A pleasant morning to you, Miss Huntley,” he greeted.

Her cautious expression faded, replaced by a welcoming smile. “And to you, Captain.”

“George drove us here in the chaise!” Drew popped his head out from under the pew, eliciting a laugh from both of them, and in that spontaneous and unguarded moment, their eyes met once again. They smiled at each other, faces aglow as their innocent gaze deepened to a lingering stare, a stare so arresting Brogan found himself noticing each fleck of gold in Lorena’s warm brown eyes.

Excitement shivered through his person, and then he caught himself and thought, What am I doing mooning over this girl’s eyes when my son is claiming my attention? Self-consciousness overcame him, and it must have showed, for Lorena dipped her poke bonnet to shade her eyes with its oversized brim.

Brogan feigned indifference and turned to Drew, thinking the lad was either jealous to see Lorena’s attention elsewhere engaged or simply wanted to be included in their conversation.

“The chaise, you say, Drew? That’s fine. I hope it was an enjoyable ride for you.”

The boy nodded enthusiastically. “Uh-huh.”

This made Brogan wonder whether Louder had won the boy’s affections. Then a thought jogged his memory. George. Could this be the same George who had called him a pirate to the boy?

Lorena removed the sling from Drew’s back pocket and smoothed down his pumpkin jacket. She drew him into the pew behind her, and Brogan followed, anxious that he should sit beside his son.

Huntley joined the group, flanking Brogan’s other side. “Drew, why aren’t you in Sunday school?”

Lorena leaned forward and whispered across the pew, “I’ve excused him today, Papa.” Lavender fragrance wafted up from her hair as Brogan contemplated the delicateness of the hand resting on the boy’s knee. “I felt it would be beneficial for him to sit through a sermon. As I’ve explained to Drew—if he wishes to be like David, he must learn David’s wisdom.”

Huntley’s grin delivered an instant twinkle to his eye. “If he can sit patiently through a sermon, he’ll be well on his way. Patience is the first step towards wisdom.”

“Last week we learned again of David and Goliath,” Drew said. “Do you know the story?”

“I am familiar with the story, aye,” Brogan replied, perplexed by the boy’s challenging glare. The strings of the bass viol began to play as the musician prepared to accompany the choir. The choirmaster walked onto the platform, and silence fell over the congregation in anticipation of the services about to begin.

“My apologies, Captain,” Miss Huntley whispered, embarrassed. “Seems he’s in a mood to talk this morning. Quiet,” she warned the boy.

Drew crossed his arms, turning his back on Brogan. “But he’s sitting in my seat!”

Nathaniel Huntley chuckled as he faced the pulpit, making himself comfortable on the cushioned seat.

Brogan felt uneasy seated between the man and his daughter in a house of worship. Neither of them suspected his relationship to Drew or the real reason he had come to Duxboro. They had no way of knowing the child they escorted to meetinghouse every Sunday morning would soon vanish from their lives.

Lisa Norato's books