A Great Catch (15 page)

Carter stood up, stance wide, his right eye twitching. “That’s no way to address a lady.”

Placing a hand on his arm, Emily glanced at the folded paper and spotted last week’s column. “Sir, if you’re asking if I wrote the article containing the reasons women should serve on juries, then the answer is yes.”

“This is a bunch of rubbish. You can’t expect women to be able to make those kinds of hard decisions. Women don’t have the common sense.”

“Sir, as you must have read in the article, since women commit crimes, they should be judged by their peers. The only way that can happen is if women serve in the capacity of juror. Furthermore, even the Bible speaks of a woman judge—Deborah.”

He slammed his fist on the counter. “Stop filling my wife’s mind with this nonsense.”

“Your wife has a mind, sir. Obviously, however, you are lacking one.”

The man turned to Carter. “You just gonna stand there?”

“Actually, no.” Carter grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. “I’m going to see that you take your rude self out of here.” He pushed the man toward the door. Another gentleman held it for him, and Carter heaved the man onto the sidewalk.

Carter returned, drawing his hand through his thick curls. “You okay?”

“You didn’t need to trouble yourself.”

“How often does that happen?”

“Once in a while. I’m used to it.” She shrugged, but when she lifted her soda, her trembling hand betrayed her.

Carter dropped thirty cents onto the counter. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Outside, he paused to make sure the man was gone before leading Emily off to the side of the lunch counter. He drew her into his arms. His chest heaved beneath her cheek.

“I’m okay, honest,” she said, only a slight tremor in her voice.

“I’m not.” After a few moments, he took hold of her shoulders, and his gaze met hers. “You were great in there.”

“So were you.” Her smile faded as fast as it appeared. She dipped her head. “I’m sorry about this.”

He kissed the top of her head. “It wasn’t your fault. Do you want to go back to the cottage?”

“And miss out on whatever you planned? I don’t think so, mister.”

The tension eased, and he grinned. “In that case, may I escort you?”

She took the arm he offered. A short while later she found herself standing in front of the Midway’s bowling alley.

Her gaze darted from the sign to Carter’s face. “You are kidding, right?”

“It’ll be fun.”

“Did you forget what I did with a horseshoe?”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before me.” He chuckled and held open the door.

Emily hesitated at the doorway to let her eyes adjust to the indoor lighting. Five alleys lay across the length of the room. A rack holding a row of bowling balls divided each alley from the next. Despite the wide ventilation opening between the top of the wall and the ceiling, the room reeked of cigar smoke. She spotted the reason hanging like a limp sausage out of the proprietor’s mouth. Carter dropped two dimes in the man’s hand. Emily squinted at the men calling to Carter.

“Is that Ducky? Is your team here?”

“Looks like most of the boys came.” He placed his hand on the small of her back. “They want to meet you.”

“I suppose it’s too late to take you up on that offer of taking me back to the cabin.”

He laughed. “You have to meet them sometime.”

“All right, lead me to the lions’ den.” She took a deep breath and slipped her sweaty hand into the crook of his arm.

“They don’t bite, and if any of them try, they’ll answer to me.”

She stiffened. “I can take care of myself.”

Shaking his head as if he wanted to say something, he finally chuckled. “Of course you can.”

“Anything I should know?”

He covered her hand with his own. “They are going to love you.”

Despite the raucous laughter of the Owls, Emily’s footsteps seemed to echo on the waxed floorboards. The group silenced as she approached.

She searched their faces. Some, like Carter, she’d known in high school. Others must have moved to the area since then, or like Ducky, they’d come to play ball on Carter’s team. As Carter introduced each player, she tried to commit their names to memory.

“There are a few more of us.” Ducky’s warm smile set her at ease. “Joe Powel wasn’t feeling too well after practice, and Elwood Taylor was taking his girl to the vaudeville show.”

“I’m afraid it will take me awhile to remember all the names.”

“With Carter yelling at us every few minutes during practice, you’ll catch on faster than you think.”

The one she’d learned was Digger Hall slapped a hand on Carter’s shoulder. “You going to stand around all day, Stockton, or are you two going to bowl?”

Emily tugged Carter’s arm. “Carter, I’ve never done this before. Why don’t I just watch?”

“Never?”

She shook her head.

He grinned. “One more thing I get to teach you. You’ll do fine.”

“But—”

Carter didn’t let her protest further. Instead, he took her by the hand and pulled her to an open alley. “Wait here.”

Seconds later, he returned with a hard wooden bowling ball. “This one should be light enough. Put your fingers in here.” He pointed to the two holes. “And thumb in this one.”

She positioned her hand.

“Not those fingers. Your middle and ring fingers.”

“Did I hear you say something about a ring finger, Stockton?” Digger guffawed at his own humor.

Emily’s cheeks flamed as she put the correct fingers in the holes.

“Hey, just ignore him, okay?”

“Carter, I can feel them all watching me,” she whispered.

“You can’t blame fellows who can’t take their eyes off a beautiful girl.” He winked and turned her to face the pins. “Okay, now you’re going to take about four steps, bend down, and roll the ball at the pins as hard as you can. I’ll go first, and you can watch.”

Standing on the edge of the alley, she held the heavy ball in her hands and watched Carter. After he selected a ball, he held it near his chest. He took four steps while drawing his arm back, and then thrust the ball forward. The ball smashed into the stubby pins, and they flew into the air with a massive clattering of wood against wood. Not a pin remained standing.

The Owls hooted behind her.

“A strike on your first throw?” Digger called. “No one should be that lucky.”

“Got my lucky charm right here.” Carter placed his hands on her shoulders. “As soon as the pin boy gets it set back up, it’s your turn.”

“What if I get it in the trough thing?”

“It’s a gutter, and you get no score for that.” He squeezed her shoulders and then stepped back. “Ready?”

The loss of his touch set her nerves jittering. How many steps did Carter say she should take? What if she dropped the ball or sent it into the gutter thing? The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass Carter in front of his friends.

She pulled her fingers from the holes and wiped her damp hand on her skirt. Then, taking a deep breath, she stood before the pins and repositioned her fingers.
Please, Lord, don’t let me fall.

Hiking up her skirt with her free hand, Emily wobbled a bit on her steps. She managed to reach the line, dip low to the boards, and release the ball with a solid push. The ball spun first toward the gutter. Then, in an arc, it wove back and crept toward the pins. She bit her lip as it seemed to be on course for the other gutter. It tapped the first pin and slowly forged a path through the others.

Unable to watch any longer, she closed her eyes.

“Strike!” Carter grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her in the air. He spun her in a circle before setting her down. She glanced at the fallen pins and a thrill surged through her. Maybe her luck was changing after all.

An hour later, she and Carter said their goodbyes. She still found it hard to believe she’d actually thrown the ball backward once toward the fellows. Thankfully, Carter’s teammates were good sports and moved lightning quick. Taking out the shortstop would not have been a good start to her participation on their team. Carter dismissed the event by saying it happened all the time.

Now brushstrokes of purple and pink over the lake told her the lateness of the hour. If they didn’t hurry, she’d get home after dark and her aunts would berate her for hours.

With the sun sinking behind the bluffs, the air grew cooler. She welcomed the relief from the heat and the smell. A roomful of sweaty baseball players and a cigar-smoking proprietor did not make a rose garden.

Reaching the dock, she and Carter climbed on board the electric launch, seated themselves among a spattering of passengers, and waited for the captain to disembark.

Carter slipped his arm around Emily. “You were incredible tonight.”

“Even when I almost bowled over your teammates?”

“It did put new meaning to the word
strike
.”

She elbowed his ribs.

The boat puttered out onto the lake, and he leaned closer. “You only had one gutter ball, and this was the first time you’ve ever played. Don’t you think you should be proud of yourself?”

“Pride goeth before a fall, and in my case, that is a dangerous thought.”

“Emily.” His tone lost its playful edge. “Enough.”

She swallowed hard. What had she said to annoy him? It was the truth. Wasn’t it?

An uncomfortable gap in conversation followed. Finally, Carter pressed his lips to her ear. “Sometimes I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

Her heart fluttered, and tears burned hot beneath her lids. Sometimes she wished she could too.

As quickly as it had flared, the serious moment evaporated. Holding her closer than he ought to in public, Carter seemed to relax. The tension in her own muscles seemed to slip away as well. The lull of the boat bobbing on the waves made her eyelids ache to close. She’d been up before the sun to write the article, had a heavy lunch with Martin, and had followed that with Carter’s grueling practice. The altercation with the man at the lunch counter had taken an emotional toll, and she’d finally ended the day with two hours of tenpins. Surely resting her eyes for one minute wouldn’t hurt anything.

Her head bobbed, and Carter gently pulled it toward his shoulder. She should sit up. Ladies didn’t allow young men such liberties, but she was so tired. Cracking one eyelid open, she spotted a disapproving glare from an elderly lady about the age of her great-aunts. She smiled. Aunt Ethel would be horrified if she saw her right now.

Oh well, Aunt Ethel was never going to find out.

Soft, steady breath against Carter’s neck signaled Emily had dozed off. She stirred and settled again. Warmth spread across his chest as he realized how significant this moment was. Emily trusted him enough to let her guard down and relax in his presence.

The ancient woman seated across from them stared with a disapproving frown permanently fixed on her sagging face. Carter glowered at her. Why couldn’t people mind their own business? The lady didn’t know Emily from Adam. She hadn’t seen her step up to the plate today and hit that ball into the outfield. She hadn’t seen how Emily didn’t back down from the cad at dinner. And she certainly hadn’t seen Emily take on the tenpins, fight her own demons, and triumph.

Even more, she hadn’t witnessed Emily win his teammates over one by one, minus the two who hadn’t joined them. They’d taken to her almost as easily as he had. They laughed with her, teased her, and made her feel like one of the Owls. More than once, he’d caught a teammate trying to share some embarrassing story about him. She’d listened and given them the warm smile that never failed to set his insides on fire.

He pressed his cheek against the top of her head, still nestled on his shoulder. How could he describe what was different about her?

Genuine.

There wasn’t a false bone in Emily Graham’s body.

As the boat docked, he touched her cheek with his free hand. “Hey.”

She jerked her head up and blinked. “Please tell me I did not fall asleep.”

“Then how could I tell you that you look even more beautiful that way?”

She rolled her eyes and tucked an errant strand of tawny hair behind her ear. “You sure you don’t mean with my mouth shut?”

With a chuckle, he drew her to her feet. “As soon as I get you back to your cottage, you should probably get some sleep.”

Her eyes widened. “Tomorrow!” She attempted to scramble out of the boat before he could help her. Still drowsy, she teetered and he steadied her. As soon as he released her, she stormed down the path like a line drive to second base.

“Emily, what’s going on?”

“The meeting, remember? I need to organize it. All those things I told you I had to do, and I completely forgot.”

“Relax. It’ll be okay.”

“No, Carter. It won’t.” Her pace picked up. “Those women are counting on me, and there’s no way I can get it all done now.”

“Even if you don’t, it’ll be all right.”

“Carter, you don’t understand. I’ve worked as hard to earn their respect as you’ve worked to earn your team’s.”

“And you don’t want to lose that.”

Even in the dimming light, he caught her glare. “I should have told you no.”

“Whoa.” He caught her arm and stopped. “Are you blaming me?”

She yanked her arm away. “No, I’m blaming me.”

A sheet of silence hung between them for the rest of the walk. He could almost sense Emily ticking off her mental lists, planning how she’d get it all done through the wee hours of the morning, making herself sick—just like his mother.

The words on the paper blurred. Emily rubbed her eyes and blinked to clear her vision. In the midst of her furious composing, morning had overtaken the night. Now, facing the day without sleep, she squinted against the sunshine pouring into the cottage’s tiny parlor. Even the sweet twittering of the birds grated on her nerves.

“Good morning, dear.” Aunt Millie laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Burning the midnight oil?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Aunt Ethel entered the room, her shoes clipping against the hardwood floor. She cocked her head to the right and studied her reflection in the framed wall mirror before weaving a tortoise shell hat pin into her festooned bonnet. “That’s what happens when you’re out till all hours with that boy.”

“Carter,” Emily corrected.

“Yes, Ethel, the boy’s name is Carter. And by the looks of him, he’s hardly a boy.” Aunt Millie giggled and sat down beside Emily at the table. Suddenly her aunt’s demeanor changed. Her brows drew together in concern. “And you weren’t out all night, were you, dear?”

“No, Aunt Millie. I was home before dark.”

Her plump aunt’s lips bowed in a broad smile. “I trust you had a good time.”

“Mostly.” Emily refused to lie. Even though she might be avoiding daily contact with God, she still didn’t want to incur His wrath. “But I had a lot to do and probably should have told Carter I couldn’t go bowling with him.”

“Bowling!” Aunt Ethel spun from the mirror, her eyes flashing. “Ladies do not frequent bowling alleys. The very name sounds so . . . inappropriate.”

Nerves worn thin, Emily hit the table with her palm. “When are you going to open your eyes, Aunt Ethel? Women can do anything a man can do. They can bowl. They can shoot. They can play sports. They can become doctors and lawyers and own businesses.”

Aunt Ethel’s lips thinned. “And apparently they can be insolent with their elders.”

“Emily, who else was at the bowling alley?” Aunt Millie asked, apparently trying to ease the tension.

“Carter’s team.”

A deafening silence filled the small room. Finally, Aunt Ethel spoke. “You mean to tell me that you, a single woman, spent an entire evening with not only one man but a whole team? And unchaperoned to boot?”

Emily sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She did not need this aggravation this morning. “We didn’t do anything wrong. Other bowlers were present too, including other men and their wives, and I was home before nightfall.”

“Did he kiss you good night?” The hope in Aunt Millie’s voice was hard to miss.

“No, he didn’t.” The frosty conclusion to their evening had only added to her drive to not attempt sleep. When Carter had left without so much as a “see you tomorrow,” Emily’s eyes stung. Only by forcing herself to stay on task had she avoided the tears still on the brink of falling.

“Well.” Aunt Ethel joined her hands in front of her, ready to pass judgment. “I will speak to your grandmother about all this when she returns from town. You’re spending far too much time with him, and it doesn’t look good.”

Emily doubted her aunt needed to trouble herself. She’d spoken rashly to Carter, and he’d not be back. Maybe it was just as well. She would never be a woman who could hold her tongue. And if it wasn’t that particular characteristic, she’d do something sooner or later that would send him running. She didn’t deserve Carter.

She pressed her hand to the ache in her chest. But oh, how she missed him already.

Leaning against an oak a few yards from the front door of the cottage, Carter waited for Emily and her entourage to emerge.

The screen door creaked, and a funny feeling rumbled in his chest. He’d heard the raised voices from inside. Maybe Emily hung on to her ire as tenaciously as she held on to the suffrage fight. If she wasn’t happy to see him, showing up here this early could be a big mistake.

“Carter.” Emily’s breath caught as she stepped out of the cottage.

Behind her, Aunt Ethel scowled, but Aunt Millie tugged the thin-framed woman inside before the screen door banged shut.

Keeping her distance, Emily clutched a stack of papers and periodicals to her chest, covering her lemon-yellow blouse. She’d carefully done her fawn-colored hair and topped the bun with one of her overly flowered hats. He frowned when he spotted the telltale dark circles rimming her eyes. Guilt washed over him.

He took a step forward and pointed to the papers. “Are you on your way to your meeting?”

“It’s at the Yacht Club at ten o’clock.”

“Then let me walk you there.” He slipped the stack from her hands. “We can talk on the way. Please.”

Emily nodded.

When they reached the last bend in the path, Carter cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. You were right to blame me.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Emily wrapped her arms around her middle. “I was angry with myself because I should have insisted on going home and working.”

“You told me what you needed to do, but I was selfish and wanted you with me.” He held up his hand when Emily started to protest. “I spent a lot of time praying about this, and I’m sure you did too.” He waited for her to agree, but she remained silent. “This is all new, and it will take us awhile to figure out the best use of our time. But I believe if we keep praying about it, God will show us the way.”

They reached the dock, and a cool morning breeze drifted over the surface of the water. He glanced at the electric launch still in the middle of the lake. Turning toward Emily, he crooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. “You don’t have to tell me. I can see it. You look exhausted.”

“Carter, it’s not your fault.” She stepped away and turned toward the water. “I’m not good at balancing things. I wanted to go with you last night, but there’s so much to do.”

“Do you have to do it all?”

“I’m the president. It’s my responsibility. Would you say the same thing about your team? What if they were counting on you?”

“Easy, Emily. I only meant there has to be something you can cut back on.”

The launch neared, making the waves lap against the shore. She turned around and shrugged. “I like to be busy.”

“This busy?”

For the first time, she smiled. “Maybe not quite this busy. But I’ll manage. I always do.”

The launch’s captain tossed a rope toward the weathered boards. The dock assistant caught it and secured the awning-covered boat.

Carter squeezed Emily’s gloved hand. “Want me to ride with you across the lake?”

“Don’t you have practice?”

“I’m already late. Being a little more late won’t hurt.”

“It won’t help either.” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you this afternoon at the ball diamond.”

“Skip it today. You need a nap.”

“But the game’s so close.”

“Hmmm. I remember a little word you promised me. It started with an
o
.”

“Carter—”

With a chuckle, he helped her into the boat and passed her the papers and periodicals. “I want you rested so you can go to our game on Saturday.”

“I’m not making any promises,” she called with a wave as the launch putt-putted out into the lake.

Remaining on the dock until the boat was a spot on the blue water, Carter wrestled with a thought he couldn’t shake. He hadn’t planned on making any promises to anyone this summer, but he found himself considering a few to Miss Emily Graham.