A Great Catch (21 page)

Outside, rain tinkled against the roof. Soft, but not comforting. Nothing was.

She sighed.

“Whatever it is, admit your fault and he’ll forgive you.” Aunt Millie patted Emily’s hand. “A girl like you can’t be too picky.”

“Millie.” Grandma Kate scowled. “Emily is a perfectly wonderful young lady, and any man would be blessed to have such a caring soul by his side.”

Aunt Ethel snapped her napkin in the air, then smoothed it on her lap. “Yes, but she does lack certain graces.”

“And her womanly figure is a bit wanting,” Aunt Millie added.

“I’m sitting right here.” Emily downed the rest of her tea. “Why don’t you talk about me being daft while you’re at it? Besides, the two of you didn’t like Carter, and now you’re on his side?”

“I’m sure we could do better.” Aunt Ethel sliced into her waffle. “But for the time being, in the interest of family harmony, I’ve acquiesced to this flight of fancy with the baseball player. When you tire of it, we’ll step in and assist you in finding a truly suitable match.”

Emily gaped. Flight of fancy? Truly suitable match? Hadn’t Aunt Ethel said Carter loved her?

Aunt Ethel met her gaze. “When one has sincere affection for another, he or she does not let trivial things stand in the way of reconciliation.”

“It isn’t triv—”

Grandma Kate cleared her throat. “My dear sisters, Emily is perfectly capable of handling her own affairs. Now, dear, how are you going to pass the time with another day of dismal weather? Bible study?”

Emily laid her hand on the baseball rule book beside her. “No, the only book I have time to study is this one.”

The book told her how to survive the game. Now, if only there was one that could tell her how to handle the players.

Biting her lip, Emily glanced out the window for the third time that morning. She didn’t want to face Carter at Sunday’s tent service, and while Saturday’s rain had saved her from practicing with the team, today’s bright sky offered no escape. He’d be there. Of that she was certain, and she still didn’t know what to say to him.

Drawing on her gloves, she glanced at her reflection in the parlor’s beveled mirror. At least the netted veil on her hat hid her puffy eyes.

A knock on the door startled her. She jumped, whacking her knee on a chair.

Her aunts and grandmother already waited outside, so who would knock?

The door opened and her brother stepped inside.

“Martin!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. “Why did you come all the way to the lake to go to church with us?”

“I’ve been seeing your picture all over town on those Bloomer Girls’ posters,” he teased, “and it made me miss you.”

Emily slapped his arm. “And to think for a moment I was actually glad you’d come.”

“Nice hat.” He lifted the flimsy veil, peered into her eyes, and frowned. “What did Carter do?”

“How do you know it was Carter?”

“Because I know you. Lost causes, injustices, and inequalities make you angry. Only people upset you.”

Aunt Ethel called to them from outside.

She smiled. Saved. For now.

Martin held the door. “You can tell me all about it on the way to morning services.”

True to his word, her brother pried the whole unsettling story from her as they walked. Like Aunt Ethel, he sided with Carter, saying Elwood obviously needed to be taught a lesson.

By the time she reached the tent meeting, irritation rubbed against her conscience like a pebble in her shoe. Why didn’t they understand? She didn’t need someone to stand up
for
her. What she needed was someone who’d stand up
with
her.

She stopped on the path as soon as she spotted Carter. Her heart hammered against her corset. Already seated beside Ducky, he wore a striped linen summer suit. Since he’d set his straw hat on the chair beside him, his tumble of curls had been freed to fall on his forehead.

Martin nudged her. “Where do you want to sit?”

Unsure, she glanced around. A row of empty chairs sat in the front, but she didn’t want to parade in front of everyone. With Carter seated in the middle, it would be clear to all something was amiss.

“Let’s sit in the back.”

Aunt Ethel frowned but said nothing. Silently, the whole entourage filed into place, and she took her seat sandwiched between broad-shouldered Martin and plump Aunt Millie.

Ducky turned around and gave her an encouraging smile, like he often did before she batted. But Carter kept his eyes trained toward the front. Then, before Brother Greene stood to lead the first song, Carter swiveled in his chair and glanced at her. Her pulse quickened, but no winning smile followed his look. Not even a tilt of his head in acknowledgment.

Her heart capsized. Had she finally struck out with Carter Stockton?

When Emily passed in front of Carter, he caught a whiff of her rose-scented perfume. If she hadn’t been surrounded by her family, he would have pulled her away to settle this whole ridiculous Elwood dilemma once and for all. Instead, he stood staring at the back of her pink dress. A wide satin belt accentuated her impossibly slender waist.

He flexed his fingers. In the carriage, he’d held her waist, and his two hands practically touched when he spanned it. Forcing his gaze upward, he watched a few wisps of hair dance across her neck, blown by the breeze.

He tugged at his collar, twisted his neck, and muttered to himself about the unbearably hot breeze.

“Thank you for the wonderful sermon, Brother Fossen. It was truly inspiring.” Aunt Ethel shook the preacher’s hand. “Having a forgiving spirit is imperative for all of us.”

Did she cast a look at him? He must be seeing things. Surely Aunt Ethel wouldn’t know about their fight. If it were Aunt Millie or Grandma Kate, he could believe it, but Emily wouldn’t confide in Aunt Ethel.

Anger still burned in his chest whenever he thought about Emily’s ultimatum concerning him or the dress he planned to put Elwood in. Why couldn’t she understand that his teammate needed to learn a lesson? No one was going to mess with her when he was around.

Sidetracked by his thoughts, he missed the approach of Olivia DeSoto. She wedged into line, blocking his view of Emily. When she reached the preacher, she gushed over-the-top praise in an annoying singsong voice. As soon as Emily stepped beyond the tent, Olivia caught her. Emily waved the rest of the Graham family on.

Olivia gave Emily a syrupy smile. “I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t sitting by Carter Stockton. Has he grown tired of you so quickly? One too many accidents?”

Carter jolted. Although he and Emily weren’t exactly speaking, he realized she would now have to answer for his stupid bet. He excused himself from his place in line and skipped speaking to Brother Fossen. Hurrying to Emily’s side, he slipped a possessive arm around her shoulders. “Good morning, Mrs. DeSoto. Did I see that successful husband of yours come in with you this morning?”

“H-h-he wasn’t able to make it. He wasn’t feeling well.”

“No, I imagine not. I saw him last night, and he seemed to have celebrated quite hard after our win.” Emily elbowed his side, and he bit back a grin.

Emily smiled. “I do hope he’ll be up and around soon.”

Olivia flipped open her fan and waved it before her flushed cheeks. “He’d better be, hadn’t he? After all, I do have my special tea with Mrs. Coggeshall tomorrow.”

She emphasized the name, and Emily’s shoulders stiffened beneath his hand.

“Olivia, if you’ll excuse us, Emily and I would like to join her family.”

He didn’t wait for an answer but lowered his hand to the small of Emily’s back and nudged her toward where her family had spread a blanket.

“That woman!” Emily fumed.

“She likes to goad you.”

Emily stopped. “Wait a minute. Why did you come to my rescue?”

“It’s what we knights do.” He chuckled.

“You’re not getting off so easily, Carter Stockton. You haven’t spoken to me in days, and we have a lot to talk about.”

“I imagine we do.” He glanced around at the churchgoers still thick on the lawn. “Let’s talk somewhere a little less crowded.”

They walked down the lawn, which sloped toward the water’s edge. Around them, trees whispered and birds trilled their summer songs.

“What’s going on tomorrow at Olivia’s? I could tell it bugged you.”

“A special tea. She invited every one of the members of the Council Bluffs Equal Suffrage Club except for me.”

Carter raised his eyebrows. “And I take it you care?”

“Yes, I care. Her guest is Mary Jane Coggeshall, the former president of the Iowa Women’s Suffrage Association and a close friend of Carrie Chapman Catt.”

Carter stared blankly at Emily.
Catt. Catt. Catt.
Why was that name so important?

Emily rolled her eyes. “President of the National Woman Suffrage Association.”

“Then go to the party.”

“Weren’t you listening? I’m not invited.”

“Go anyway.” He stopped on the lawn. “It’s not like she’ll kick you out in front of Mrs. Coggeshall.”

The corners of her mouth curled. “I could, couldn’t I? Wouldn’t Olivia love it if I showed up at her door?”

“That’s my girl.”

Emily sat down on a fallen log stripped naked of its bark. While this spot was still visible to all, the cover of the cottonwoods made it seem less public. “Am I still your girl?”

“You’ve never stopped.” He shucked off his jacket and sat down beside her. “But we’ve got something big to figure out here.”

Emily’s eyes lit, then the brief flicker dimmed. “I’m sorry you got upset when I pointed out the error of your logic.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re apologizing for my feelings and because I was wrong?”

She stood and smoothed out her dress. “Thank you for admitting that. Can we go now?”

“Not so fast.” He caught her wrist and pulled her back beside him. “You are the most stubborn creature God ever placed on this earth, Emily Graham.”

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment, and I’m not saying I was wrong.” He shoved up his shirtsleeves. “No one—and I mean no one—is going to talk disrespectfully about you when I’m around.”

She blinked and glanced in Olivia’s direction. “I . . . I . . . don’t know what to say.”

“How about, ‘Elwood can wear the dress’?”

“No. Not in a million years.” She turned toward him, and the sun caught the golden streaks in her fawn-colored hair. “Carter, do you understand why I became so angry?”

“You weren’t exactly forthcoming.” He crossed his arms over his chest. He could be stubborn too.

“I know, and I’m sorry for that.” She folded her hands in her lap. “The purpose of this Bloomer Girls’ game is to show people that women are as capable as men when it comes to playing a sport, running a business, or making decisions. All those things so many believe we cannot do.”

“And what does this have to do with Elwood?”

“Everything.” She sighed. “Please try to understand. I know the Bloomer Girls will be performing. They’ll play to the crowd and make folks laugh. But they’ll play good baseball too. They do want to win. Our team, the Owls, will be playing serious ball against them. If Elwood dressed up, it would trivialize this whole process. It would make it look like the Owls went along with this only for the laughs and would make a mockery of the serious message. Does that make sense?”

Carter crossed his ankles. “Yes. I only wish you would have told me on Monday.”

“Would you have listened?”

“Maybe.” He chuckled. “Probably not. And for the record, Emily, I’m still not happy about the things Elwood said.”

“And I appreciate that. Truly.”

He nodded toward her family. “You’d better go eat.”

“You’re not going to join us?”

“I wasn’t invited.”

A wide grin spread across her face. “And why should that stop you? Come anyway.”

Approaching the group, Carter could tell they all knew of his spat with Emily—even Martin. Peachy. Grandma Kate welcomed him and indicated the spot they had left open.

Aunt Millie squeezed his arm. “And we have cherry pie.”

Well, at least he’d have pie to go with his crow.

He’d barely finished the last of his pie when the Warrington boy raced over. “Mr. Stockton! Will you play ball with us?”

Glancing at Emily, he asked, “Do you mind? It’s kind of a tradition.”

“Not at all.”

“Martin, why don’t you join us? I like to teach the boys a thing or two on Sunday afternoons. Usually we get an impromptu game going. I could use the help corralling the ruffians.”

“Sure, why not?” Martin shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

Carter tapped Emily’s nose. “And before you get your nose out of joint, the girls could play too, but they’re all in their Sunday best and I don’t think their mamas would appreciate the offer.”

Now both in shirtsleeves, Carter and Martin headed in the direction of young Carl Warrington. Carter recognized a few of the boys from the previous weeks, but the cluster continued to grow. Since the Owls’ ball field was quite a jaunt from the place where the tent meeting was set up, they’d have to make do in the grassy area.

Martin glanced back over his shoulder. “Emily really wanted to come.”

Carter didn’t miss the incredulous sound in his voice. “She likes the game, and she’s gotten pretty good at it.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Carter. I’m well aware Emily is clumsy, and she is too. We’ve been telling her for years. Emily has a lot of endearing qualities, but we all know gracefulness isn’t one of them, and if you can’t run around the bases without tripping, then, well, there’s not much use in trying.”

Clamping his jaw shut, Carter fought to keep from blurting out a response. Emily’s family had been telling her she didn’t measure up all her life. How dare they? Of course she believed them.

Carter released the breath he was holding, long and slow. “She doesn’t trip, Martin. Not anymore.” He paused. “But if she did, I wouldn’t mind one bit.”