A Great Catch (12 page)

“Don’t I get a day off?” Waving her lacy fan in front of her face, Emily couldn’t believe her ears. Carter wanted to give her another baseball lesson today? Besides being Sunday, the noonday’s stifling humidity made her cotton dress cling to her skin, and dark clouds gathering in the sky promised a shower later in the day.

Carter had joined them for lunch after church. As soon as he’d polished off the last bite of Britta’s apple cobbler, he announced they’d better get going if they were going to beat the rain.

“Honestly, Carter, I have an article I need to write.” She glanced at her grandmother for support. Having already challenged her sisters to a game of whist, Grandma Kate gave Emily an I-told-you-so grin.

Maybe Carter was the problem.

Carter downed the rest of his lemonade. “There’re only a few weeks until the game, and you’ve yet to hold a bat.”

“But you’re not dressed to practice.”

“I can fix that.” He removed his jacket, draped it over the back of a chair, tugged his tie loose, and rolled up his sleeves. “All set. Besides, I’m not the one who’ll be doing the work.”

“If you’re teaching me to hit a ball, I promise it will be work.” Emily glanced at the sky. “What if it rains?”

“You’ll get wet.” He chuckled, then tapped her nose. “But I’m already quite certain you aren’t made of sugar, so you won’t melt.”

“Oh, all right.” Emily rolled her eyes, folded the fan, and set it beside her plate. “For a little while, but I have to get back here and work on that article.”

“I won’t keep her out all afternoon, Mrs. Graham. I promise.”

“Please, call me Kate.” Grandma Kate grinned, her eyes twinkling. “And take your time, Carter. Who knows how long it will take for our Emily to perfect her swing.”

Less than half an hour later, Emily stood on the field with the tapered bat in her hands. Carter encouraged her to take a few swings in the air to get a feel for it. The first time, she nearly toppled from the weight.

He laughed—a full-bellied, enjoying-the-moment laugh. “Well, I can see I have my work cut out for me.”

“Might this be a good time for me to say ‘I told you so’?” She sighed. “Carter, it’s hopeless. I’m hopeless.”

He stepped behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Let me be the judge of that.” He worked the muscles in her neck, kneading them gently. “Relax. Tension is your worst enemy when it comes to swinging a bat.”

With his touch firing through her, relaxing seemed impossible. Still, she leaned into his warm hands and found some of the tension easing.

“Good.” He slipped in front of her and held out the bat. “Let’s start with your grip.”

After wiping her sweaty palms on her divided skirt, she grasped the heavy ash bat.

“Choke up, Emily.”

“Why would I do that?”

Laughter rumbled from his chest. “I didn’t mean you had to choke. I meant”—Carter pointed to the bat—“move your hands up higher. It’s called ‘choking up.’ There you go. Good. Now line up your middle knuckles on each hand. See, you did it.”

“If that’s all there was to this, I’d be a happy lady.”

“’Fraid not.” His gaze dropped to her feet. “Next is stance. Remember how you stood when you were at the shooting range? Try that.”

She shifted her feet farther apart. “Like this?”

“Yes, only now you need to bend your knees a little.”

She complied. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look like a beautiful baseball player.” He paused and grinned. “And that blush looks lovely with your outfit.”

She rolled her eyes. “Have you forgotten I have a bat in my hands?”

“Ah, but can you use it?” He backed away toward the pitcher’s mound. “We’re going to start with a nice, easy lob. All you have to do is watch the ball and swing at it.”

Emily kept her gaze on the baseball from the moment it left Carter’s hand. As the ball barreled toward her, she raised her bat in the air and brought it down like an axe chopping wood. The ball landed with a thud behind her.

“That was—uh—interesting.” Carter managed to contain the laughter obviously wanting to erupt.

“You said you were going to make it an easy one.”

“It was.” Carter grabbed the ball and then moved behind her. He stepped close to her, his hot breath warming her neck.

“What are you doing?” she squeaked.

He slipped his hands over hers. “I’m going to show you how to swing. Relax, Emily. Remember? No tension.”

“I’m trying.” She swallowed hard. Who was she kidding? She’d never relax with Carter so close.

“Now, when you hit the ball, concentrate on driving through it.” As he spoke, he moved her hands and the bat in a horizontal line. “Keep it nice and even. Got it?”

His breath tickled her ear, sending chills coursing through her despite the June heat. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Nice and even.”

When he removed his support from the bat, it started to fall. She caught it and quickly resumed her batting position. If Carter noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Determined to master this, she took a couple of practice swings. Nice and even. Sweat beaded on her upper lip. Why didn’t the heat seem to bother Carter?

“Ready?” Carter lifted his hands to his chest before tossing the ball underhanded in her direction.

She swung, catching only air, and spun in a circle.

“Toss the ball back, and we’ll try again. That looked a lot better.” He caught the poorly thrown ball with ease. “You need a break?”

“No. I’m going to do this.”

“Good girl.”

Twenty pitches later, she’d yet to make contact. Still, Carter didn’t seem daunted. With every pitch, he reminded her of how to stand, hold the bat, or swing. He never failed to add a word of encouragement.

Emily dropped the nose of the bat to the ground and leaned on the handle with one hand. “Maybe I could use that break now.”

“Not until you hit one.”

“Carter—” She lifted the bat back into place and took a deep breath. “You’re right. So, what do I do when I hit one?”

“Run to first base.”

“Here? Now?”

“Sure, why not? That’s what you’ll do in the game.” He held the ball up in front of himself. “You’re going to hit it out of the park this time. Right?”

She got into position and nodded. The ball came toward her. Her nerves tingled. She swung. The solid connection reverberated down the length of the bat and tingled up her arms. The ball came off the end and flew toward the infield.

“Run!” The ball dropped to the ground in front of Carter and bounced toward third.

Halfway to first base, she realized she still held the bat. She heaved it into the air, took two more steps, and came to a complete stop. End over end, the bat flew through the air—right toward Carter on the pitcher’s mound.

“Carter!”

The hurler heard Emily’s words of warning but didn’t need them. He took a step back from the pitcher’s mound, and the bat clunked to the ground with a puff of dust.

She ran across the field to him, tears making her eyes glisten like mossy pools. “Carter, are you all right? I’m so sorry. I threw it without thinking. I should have known better.”

“Hey.” He captured her hand. “It’s fine. I’ve coached enough kids to realize a bat can be thrown anywhere when you’re first learning. It’s nothing to get upset about.”

“But it is. What if I’d hit you? What if I did that in a game?”

“You didn’t and you won’t.” He retrieved the ball and jogged back to her. “Now let’s go celebrate.”

“Celebrate the fact you survived another day of practice with me?”

“No.” A few raindrops splattered the light blue fabric of her shirtwaist. “You deserve to be rewarded for your first successful hit, and it looks like it’s the perfect time to call it a day before we both end up getting soaked. I’ll get the bat and we can go.”

While Emily made her way to the edge of the field, he picked up the discarded bat and tossed it in the air. Catching it with ease, he grinned. He had the perfect reward in mind for Miss Emily Graham, and he couldn’t wait to give it to her.

“Ready?” He stuffed the bat in a burlap sack and swung it over his shoulder.

Emily shielded her face with her hand from the now-steady sprinkling and turned in the direction of her cabin.

He caught her arm. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the cottage.”

He glanced at the sky. Like overfilled wineskins, the gray clouds threatened to burst without notice. “We’ll never make it. Let’s head toward Manhattan Beach.”

“But Carter—”

“Trust me.”

She sighed but let him lead the way.

As the rain started to fall harder, the two of them jogged toward the buildings lining the shore’s edge.

He pointed to the upscale Kursaal, the newest pavilion on the lake, still being constructed. The walls of the two-story pavilion were sided and painted a pristine white, but Carter knew the building’s interior was not yet completed.

“We can’t go in there! It’s not open yet.”

“Emily, you’re getting drenched.”

Leaves whipped from the ground and spun in a dizzying dance. The weather vane on top of the building whirled and clacked in the gusts.

“But it’s trespassing.” Emily hugged her body.

He could pick Emily up and carry her inside if he had to, but that wouldn’t start the rest of the afternoon off like he hoped. “Technically, my dad’s bank handled the financing, so it’s not trespassing. Besides, aren’t you the least bit curious as to what it’s like inside?”

Even with rain-dampened tendrils framing her face, a spark lit her eyes at his unspoken dare. Home run.

Emily hiked up her shortened skirt. “Last one there is out!” she called, bolting ahead of him.

With a grin on her face, she took to the path at breakneck speed, but sliding into second would have been easier than running on the freshly soaked dirt.

“Emily, be careful!”

For once Emily held victory within her grasp. Sure, the race wasn’t completely fair, but she had to take whatever advantage she could get. At least she was running, and Carter could see she was changing. Hadn’t she hit that baseball? And hadn’t she learned to throw it?

In a fraction of a minute, the clouds opened, releasing the burden they’d been carrying all day in a torrential downpour. Blinded momentarily, Emily caught her foot on what felt like a protruding root. She fought to catch herself with outstretched arms, but when her hands hit the mud, they simply slid. She lost her battle, landing face-first in the fresh sludge.

Carter quickly pulled her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”

“Only my pride.” She wiped the mud from her mouth with the back of her hand and licked her lips. She grimaced at the grit on them.

A bolt of lightning lit the sky and thunder followed on its tail.

“Inside. Now.” Carter held her elbow, and Emily didn’t resist as he propelled her down the remainder of the path, up the steps, and inside what would soon be the grandest building on the lake.

Fitting she should enter it, covered in mud, on the arm of a handsome man.

She wiped a muddy tear from her face. Why had she let herself believe things could change? She was still the same clumsy girl she’d always been. Now all Carter had to do was look at her and have it confirmed.

He led her to a pile of lumber and motioned for her to sit down. After finding a rag, he tossed it to her.

She missed it, then retrieved it from the sawdust-covered floor. While she made a feeble attempt at cleaning her skirt, Carter found a crock filled with drinking water and brought her a tin cup.

In silence, he walked around the skeleton insides of the building for several minutes. “It’s going to be something, isn’t it? Some people think it’s hard to picture something all completed when they see the bare bones like this. But it’s not for me. Maybe it’s a gift, but I can already see you dancing upstairs in that new grand ballroom, wearing a fine emerald gown.”

“I don’t have an emerald gown.”

“Yet.” He shoved a fistful of wet curls from his forehead. As he raked his eyes over her disheveled appearance, another grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

“What?” she snapped.

“Well, based on what I saw, you should be a natural at sliding into a base.”

She wiped her hands on the rag. “Carter, this isn’t funny. Look at me. I make a mess of everything I do.”