A Great Catch (8 page)

No, that wasn’t what made her feel like an outsider. Her discomfort came from not wanting to wrestle for the same things as the Olivias of the world. She didn’t want material things or prestige, and she didn’t understand those who did.

Give her a soapbox any day with a worthy fight, and then she’d feel at home.

She sighed and smoothed her skirt. At least tonight she’d better be as good an actress as those on stage.

“You look beautiful, Emily.” Carter pulled the carriage to a stop, climbed down, and came around to her side.

Though it was hard to take his compliment at face value, his dark eyes brimmed with honesty. As he lifted her down from the carriage, Emily caught sight of the playbill posted on the front of the theater. “We’re seeing Ibsen’s
A Doll’s House
? But that’s about—”

“I know.” His tone held a hint of mischief, and his lips turned up at the corners in an easy grin. He turned to assist her aunts. “Ladies.”

“Well, I don’t know what it’s about.” Aunt Ethel humphed. “And it had better not be one of those tasteless vaudeville acts.”

“It’s not, Auntie. It’s a dramatic play.”

Aunt Millie nearly threw herself into Carter’s arms. He caught her and easily set her on the ground.

“How perfect.” Aunt Millie continued to cling to his bicep. “You know, I once performed the part of Juliet in Shakespeare’s
Romeo and Juliet
.”

“Performed?” Aunt Ethel’s tone was terse. “You read the part aloud at school.”

Hurt marred Aunt Millie’s round face, and Emily’s heart pinched for her dear aunt.

“And I bet you were wonderful.” Carter winked at Aunt Millie after he handed the reins to one of the stable boys.

Emily fought to contain a giggle.

Aunt Ethel scowled. “Well, let’s not stand around lollygagging.”

“You heard your aunt.” Carter offered Emily his arm. “Besides, I can’t wait to show you off to everyone.”

Finding his last statement both hard to believe and hard to ignore, Emily’s cheeks warmed. Moments later, with her two aunts in tow, Emily entered the theater on the arm of a handsome athlete . . . only to come face-to-face with Mrs. Olivia DeSoto.

“My, isn’t it a surprise to find you here, Emily?” Dressed in a showy pink gown, Olivia raked her gaze over Emily’s attire, then studied Carter from head to toe. “And who is your escort? A cousin from out of town?”

Without thinking, Emily dug her fingers into Carter’s arm. He covered her hand.

“Darling, don’t you recognize Angus Stockton’s son?” Mr. DeSoto, a stout man with a thick beard, stuck out his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. I’m William DeSoto. I work in your brother’s bank.”

The muscles of Carter’s arm tensed beneath Emily’s hand.

“I’ve seen you there during my visits home from college, but I must correct you. It’s my father’s bank—not my brother’s.”

“Technically, I guess that’s true. For now. And what do you do, Mr. Stockton?”

“I’m a baseball player with the Manawa Owls. The pitcher.”

“Honestly? And you’re out with . . . Emily?” Olivia made no attempt to hide the disbelief in her voice.

Emily opened her mouth to speak, but Carter interrupted. “Yes, I’ve been lucky enough to snag the beautiful and mysterious lady of the lake. Now, if you’ll excuse us. We should be going. I’d hate to miss the opening curtain.”

“Yes, of course.” Mr. DeSoto looked over Carter’s shoulder. “Darling, can you wait here a minute? I believe I see someone I need to speak to.”

Olivia stuck out her lip. Tears filled her sapphire-blue eyes. “But what about—”

He patted her arm dismissively and strode toward another group.

“I’m sorry.” Emily reached for her hand. “I’m sure he’ll return momentarily, before the opening curtain.”

Jerking away, Olivia tipped her chin in the air. “My husband is an important member of the community. He has other obligations.” She glanced at Carter. “As a Stockton, I’m sure you understand the importance of such connections. Oh, I forgot, you don’t work in your father’s bank, do you?”

If Carter hadn’t tugged her away, Emily would have delivered a dissertation that would make Olivia DeSoto think twice about insulting anyone she cared about. Sure, her words were sugary sweet, but the implication that Carter was somehow a failure because he didn’t work at the bank came through all the same. Someone needed to teach Olivia some manners.

Wait a minute. Did she just defend Carter? Hadn’t she herself referred to him as a boy playing games? When had those feelings changed?

The truth struck her and spread like a creeping vine inside. Her feelings for Carter had not only taken seed, they’d taken root. The warmth spread through her, and she realized his presence seemed to be the only sunlight the feelings needed to grow.

Carter stopped at the door dividing the foyer and theater and handed the usher their tickets. The man bowed slightly. “This way, sir.”

Aunt Millie huffed behind them as they hurried down the aisle. “Is Mrs. DeSoto one of your suffragists?”

“I’m afraid so.” Emily released a slow breath. The last thing she wanted to do was let anger ruin the evening.

The usher directed them toward the rows in front of the gilded stage. “You have two seats in row four and two in row eight.”

“Thank you.” Carter waited until the usher departed. “I believe Mrs. DeSoto suffers from the green-eyed monster.”

Aunt Millie applauded. “Shakespeare’s
Othello
, Act 3. ‘Beware, my lord, of jealousy; it is the green-eyed monster which doth mock.’”

“Her eyes were blue.” Aunt Ethel scowled. “And her manners were insufferable.”

Emily let her hand drop from Carter’s elbow. “You think she’s jealous? Of what?”

“You really don’t know, do you?” He chuckled and held up the four tickets, two in each hand. “So, would you ladies like the seats in row four or eight? I’m sorry I couldn’t secure four side by side at such a late date.”

“I think we should take the ones behind.” Aunt Ethel studied the two areas. “That way we can properly chaperone.”

Aunt Millie slipped two tickets from Carter’s hand. “We’ll take the front so you two can have some privacy. Come along, Ethel.”

Emily waited until her grumbling aunt departed before she giggled. “You have truly been a good sport about all this. First them, and now Olivia.”

His gold-flecked eyes bore into hers, melting her concerns. “Emily, it’s all worth it.”

She swallowed. “Maybe we should sit down.”

With a sweep of his arm toward their seats, he smiled. “After you.”

Slipping into the plush velvet seat beside Emily, Carter removed the playbill from the inside pocket of his tailcoat and opened it. He glanced at Emily, who appeared to be nervously fiddling with her program, and his heart warmed.

How refreshing she was. So many of the young women he’d met used their wiles to promote their personal agendas. They had their futures all neatly wrapped up with a wedding ring–sized bow.

But not Emily. And while she looked lovely in her purple sleeveless gown and long white gloves drawn up to her elbows, it was her unassuming nature that captivated him. She seemed to have no idea why Olivia DeSoto was jealous of her, but he certainly did. Emily faced everything with an infectious passion.

His lips curved upward. If he hadn’t dragged her away from Olivia, he might have seen that passion released full force.

“Carter, why did you pick this play? There are two other theaters in Council Bluffs and more in Omaha. Not to mention the shows at the lake.”

“You don’t like Ibsen?”

“No, I do. The point is, I don’t think you will.”

He closed his playbill. “Do you remember what tonight is about?”

“Being mortified by my aunts in public?” Her eyes sparkled in the chandelier’s light.

“No, it’s about us discovering our similarities.”

“And you think a play addressing how unfairly a woman is treated in the home will do that?”

The lights dimmed and the crowd quieted. As the heavy velvet curtains spilled open, he pressed his lips to her ear. “I guess we’ll see.”

“That was the most ridiculous piece of drivel I’ve ever witnessed. Nothing is more holy than the covenant of marriage, and that play made a mockery of it.” Aunt Ethel’s nonstop diatribe continued.

Emily suppressed a moan. Since it was growing dark, Carter had opted to leave the carriage in town and take the ladies back to the lake by streetcar. Now they were making the final leg of the journey across the lake in one of the electric launch boats.

She shivered as the lake breeze licked her heated skin.

“Are you cold?” Carter asked, slipping his arm around her shoulder.

Aunt Ethel cleared her throat and frowned. “We’ll have none of that, Mr. Stockton.”

He withdrew his arm—after pulling Emily a bit closer to his side and taking her hand. Her aunt didn’t seem to notice.

“I know you paid a handsome price for those tickets, Mr. Stockton, but I think you should go demand your money back,” Aunt Ethel droned on. “I find it simply incredulous Nora abandoned her husband and children.”

Emily pressed a palm to her churning stomach, her emotions as mixed up as those of the main character her aunt mentioned. While she found the play thought provoking, something about it unnerved her. She actually found herself agreeing with her aunt on some level.

“Leaving her children has folks everywhere up in arms,” Carter said. The boat dipped, and he squeezed Emily’s hand. “What did you think?”

Her voice came out shaky. “I’m not yet certain.”

“It sure makes you look at things differently.”

His words faded as the captain piloted the launch next to the dock, called out orders, and tossed a line to a waiting dock assistant.

Once the boat was secured, Carter stood and extended his hand to Aunt Millie. “Here we are. Safe and sound.”

The elderly lady wobbled, and Carter caught her thick waist.

Aunt Millie giggled. “You’re a wonderful companion. Thank you for letting us tag along.”

“It was my pleasure.” He helped her out of the boat and then assisted Aunt Ethel before returning for Emily.

Emily slipped her hand in his and relished the feeling of it. She’d not slip or fall with Carter by her side. He’d see to it.

The four of them gathered on the dock. Aunt Ethel snapped a fan against her arm. “Come along, dear. We’ll see you home, and Carter won’t have to make the long walk.”

“Ethel! Leave her be.” Aunt Millie looped her arm in her sister’s. “You two take your time walking back. Ethel and I will go on ahead.”

With cheeks flaming, Emily bit her lip, grateful for the darkness swallowing her.

Carter chuckled. “They’re quite a pair.”

“Yes. A pair of jokers.”

“Best watch your step.” He offered her his arm.

She took it when she stepped off the dock, linking her arm in his as they began to walk home. “Thank you for the evening. I truly enjoyed it.”

“I couldn’t tell for sure. You’ve been awfully quiet. Did the play disappoint you?”

“Hardly. No, I guess I’d have to say it was disturbing in some ways.”

“I thought you’d find it empowering. After all, Nora goes from a scatterbrained, childish wife to a woman who discovers herself.”

“And leaves her children and her husband.”

“And that bothers you.” His words, more of a statement than a question, drifted into the sound of the lake lapping the shore behind them.

“You won’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“I’m not sure I can explain it. I agreed with so much of what Nora talked about—men who refuse to sacrifice their integrity but expect hundreds of thousands of women to do so every day. She was his doll, his plaything, not his wife, and when she used her brain, she was wrong. Can’t you see that’s exactly why women must have the right to vote? If they’re never elevated to the same place as men, they will always be treated as possessions rather than equals.”

Carter covered her hand with his. “What else bothered you about the play?”

“I know it was only a play, and I understood why she had to go, but I hated it too.” She sighed. “Nora’s decision felt selfish.” She was filled with thoughts of Marguerite’s little boy and Lilly’s baby. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Aunt Ethel is right. A marriage, a family, is too sacred to abandon.”

Carter didn’t respond. With each passing moment, Emily’s chest clenched more tightly, and her corset pressed hard against her rib cage. Why had he grown so quiet?

Finally, he stopped on the path and turned to her. “I told you we’d discover some of our similarities tonight.” Emily started to speak, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “I’ve not been honest with you, and it’s time I told you the truth.”

Without any moonlight, it was impossible for Emily to see Carter’s face. The whir of locusts and the chirping of crickets mixed with the pounding of her heart against her rib cage. She held her breath, waiting. What was he about to tell her? Surely he didn’t have a wife and child he’d abandoned. No, not Carter.

“Breathe, Emily. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not confessing to a heinous crime or anything.”

The air whooshed from her lungs, but she worried her lip between her teeth. “What is it?”

“When I said I hadn’t been truthful, I was talking about the cause near and dear to your heart.”

“I see.” In a split second, the gap between them became a chasm.

He took hold of her hands. “No, you don’t. Emily, I do believe women should have the right to vote. I believe they should have all those things you do. That’s why I chose that play. To show you I wasn’t against what you’re doing.”

Excited shivers shot through her. He wanted what she did? Could it be possible?

“But when we met, you frowned when my grandmother brought it up.”

“I know, and you jumped to conclusions.” His voice softened. “My mother was a suffragist. She was a lot like you—driven, determined, wouldn’t let anything stand in her way.”

“Was?”

“She took ill at an Iowa convention but didn’t come home. She kept going and grew sicker. She ended up dying of pneumonia a few weeks later.”

Tears burned in Emily’s eyes. “Carter, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. How old were you?”

“Fourteen.” He turned to continue their journey but kept her gloved hand in his. “After that, my father threw himself into his work with my brother remaining faithfully by his side.”

“So you really lost them both.”

He laughed a humorless laugh. “In a manner of speaking. So you see, Emily, we are more alike than you thought. I wouldn’t abandon my family either.” His voice hardened. “No matter what.”

After volunteering to accompany Britta into the city, Emily rose early and donned a pleated white shirtwaist, brown skirt, and plaid vest. She drew her fingers along the quills of the duck feather on her hat. So soft when rubbed the right direction, but rubbed the wrong direction, it bristled.

Was she like the feather? She had bristled at Carter when she sensed he was against her. But last night, his words and his tender touches had definitely smoothed her ruffled feathers. As he said good night, his voice had gone gravelly in a knee-weakening sort of way, and all too soon Aunt Ethel was calling to her from the cabin porch.

Britta knocked on her door, startling her. “You ready, pumpkin?”

“Coming.” Emily jammed the hat on her head and stuffed two pins in place. While Britta checked on the upkeep of the Graham home, Emily would attend to some errands.

Once outside at the breakfast table, she downed a muffin and a cup of coffee much more quickly than her aunts deemed appropriate, then left with Britta. They crossed the lake on the launch and then boarded the open-air streetcar into Council Bluffs.

Britta sat beside her, penciling grocery needs on a pad of paper, while Emily watched the open fields give way to civilization. The streetcar slowed inside the city, and Emily scanned the streets for changes since she’d last been there a few weeks ago.

The lilacs and tulips in Bayliss Park had faded, and columbines, irises, and purple coneflowers now brightened the center. Kresge’s Five and Dime had a new sign, and the People’s Department Store was advertising a sale on beds.

Passing by the Stockton Exchange, Emily went over Carter’s words last night. She’d slept little after his revelation concerning his mother’s death, and her heart squeezed as she thought about Carter alone in his grief. And why did she hear such a bitter edge in his voice when he spoke of his brother?

She sighed. A minute later, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. That hadn’t been Carter’s only disclosure last night. He believed in a woman’s right to vote, and if the telegram she hoped to receive arrived soon, she’d find out for sure how far he was willing to go to support her and the cause.

Britta stepped off the streetcar at the corner of Broadway and Main, saying she’d meet Emily back at the Graham home before noon. Emily continued on for another couple of blocks and exited at the telegraph office.

“Morning, Miss Graham.” Roy Chambers leaned against the counter. “I bet you’re wanting your reply.”

“It came?” Emily couldn’t believe it had arrived so quickly. She’d only sent her request four days prior.

“About an hour ago.” Mr. Chambers reached into a box and withdrew a slip of vanilla-colored paper. “Here you are, Miss Graham.”

Emily scanned the reply quickly.

“I take it from the pretty smile on your face it’s good news.”

“The best, Mr. Chambers. Thank you.” She stepped to the door and turned. “You won’t say anything about this, will you?”

“Not a word.”

Emily thanked him again and strode into the morning sunlight. Turning toward the Council Bluffs Savings Bank, she began to compile a mental list of things she needed to do now that she had her answer from Chicago. Contacts had to be made, advertisements designed, and articles written.

She reached the corner and stepped into the street.

Suddenly the pounding of horses’ hooves jerked her away from her thoughts. Someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her to safety on the sidewalk.

“What were you thinking?” Carter’s chest heaved beneath his summer suit.

“My . . . my thoughts were elsewhere.”

“Apparently.” He motioned toward a bench, and they sat down together. “I’m sorry I was so abrupt. Are you okay?”

Still rattled, she nodded. “I . . . I guess I didn’t look.”

He locked his gaze on her, studying her face. “You were obviously deep in thought. So what’s so important it almost got you killed?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about it later.” Lowering her gaze to her lap, she hastily smoothed her skirt. “Where did you come from?”

“I was speaking to the bank about the discrepancy with your grandmother’s account.” He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. “You know, you scared the wits out of me. I think my heart has finally stopped racing.” He drew in a long breath. “So, where were you headed?”

“Home.”

“Home on the lake?”

“No, Britta’s purchasing a few items and checking on the house here in town. I’m planning to meet her there to pick up a few things before we head back to Lake Manawa.”

“How about I walk you over?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I’d like to.” He grinned. “Besides, someone has to save you from wild horses.”

She slapped his arm. “You’re not going to let me forget this?”

“Nope.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “It’s fun having something to tease Miss Perfect about.”

Her face flushed, and she stuffed the telegram into her pocket. “Me? Perfect? Hardly.”

“You’re smart, beautiful, kind, and can get up in front of a crowd and speak your mind with the elocution of a statesman. I’d say few women can rival that.”

“Carter—”

“Don’t argue with me on this. It’s one fight you won’t win. Just say thank you.”

She giggled. “Thank you.”

Several blocks later, they climbed the steep bluff to the Victorian-style Graham home. At the sight of the shades of pale blue and yellow decorating the home, sadness touched her. The house shouted her mother’s influence, and Emily instantly missed her terribly. What would she think of Carter Stockton?

“Are you going inside?” Carter asked.

“No, I thought I’d stay out here for a while.”

He pointed to a swing hanging from a spreading oak on the side of the front yard. “Why don’t you sit over there?”

She rolled her eyes. “Carter, I haven’t been on that swing since I was a little girl.”

“Then it’s about time you do it again.” He took her hand and pulled her toward it. After he tugged on the ropes, he patted the seat. “Still safe. Go on. Sit down and tell me what you wanted to talk to me about.”

He held the ropes in place while she carefully positioned the narrow board beneath her. “Did you mean what you said last night? About supporting a woman’s right to vote?”

“Yes.”

She dug the paper from her pocket, smoothed the creases, and passed it to him. “Read this.”

He read the words aloud. “‘Bloomer Girls available in one month for game. Go ahead with arrangements. J. B. Olson. Manager.’” He looked up. “Okay. What does this have to do with me?”

“I’m not sure yet.” She let her shoes brush the ground as the swing swayed.

“Hold on.” Carter stepped behind her and pushed the swing in the air.

She clutched the ropes and giggled as the swing took flight.

“What aren’t you sure of?”

“Are you familiar with the Bloomer Girls’ baseball teams?”

“Sure, they’re teams of girls that travel around the country challenging men’s teams.” He pushed the swing high in the air. “I read in the paper once that five college boys from Tennessee University got expelled for playing them.”

“But it wasn’t the ladies’ fault.” Her stomach leaped as he pushed her again. “It was the narrow-minded college dean who forbade the underclassmen from participating. Can you imagine a grown man being so threatened by a group of girls?”

He chuckled and gave her another solid push toward the branches.

“Carter, I need something for the ladies of the Council Bluffs Equal Suffrage Club to be able to get behind. Something exciting. And I need something that will show the people of this area that women are capable of doing anything a man can.”

“So you invited these Bloomer Girls here?”

She nodded.

“It’s a great idea. Those ladies should draw quite a crowd.”

“I certainly hope so, and I’m glad you see how important this game is because I need your help.” She paused, hoping he’d figure it out for himself. When he didn’t appear to, she said, “The Bloomer Girls need a team to play.”

The swing flew backward, and Emily waited for another push. It didn’t come as she arced forward again. The swing slowed, and she wished she could see Carter’s face. Was he angry? Considering it? Perhaps even as excited as her?

In a few moments, he captured her waist with his arm and brought the swing to an abrupt halt. Marching around to face her, he crossed his arms over his chest, a twitch under his right eye the only thing that moved on his stone-set face. “Absolutely not. Not my team.”

“But Carter—”

“No, Emily. I won’t put them through it. My team will be the laughingstock of the state.”

She stood up, expecting him to take a step back. “I told you we were too different.”

“You’re asking too much.” He held his ground.

“One little game.” Tipping her chin up defiantly, she didn’t flinch. “That’s all.”

“My team will never go for it.”

His team or him? The words her grandmother had told her so often echoed in her mind.
It is one thing to say you support something. It’s something else altogether to fight for it.
Well, if he wouldn’t do it, she’d get a team that would. She shoved her shoulder into his chest, moving past him.

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

“To find another team.”

“Fine.”

She yanked away. “I’m glad I have your permission.”

“No, I mean fine, we’ll do it.”

“Really?” Her voice came out squeaky.

He chuckled. “On one condition.”

“I’m listening.” She swallowed, the I-dare-you glint in his eye unraveling her.

“There are always one or two men on those Bloomer Girls’ teams, right?”

“Usually.”

“Then, to be fair, we need a woman on ours.”

Relief flooded over her. “That wouldn’t be a problem. I’m sure one of the suffrage league women would do it. Several, like Lilly, are quite athletic. I can ask this afternoon for volunteers.”

He cocked an eyebrow, and a grin spread across his face. “No, Emily. My condition is
you
have to play for the Manawa Owls.”

“Me?” The breeze picked up, and Emily had to press her hand to her hat to keep it from blowing off. “But Carter, I’m not an athlete.”

The amber flecks in Carter’s eyes flickered with a strange amusement. “Take it or leave it.”

The cockiness in his tone irked her. “I’ve never even held a bat.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious.”

“That’s not funny. You realize I may accidentally kill you.”

He chuckled. “I survived the shooting gallery, and you had a gun in your hands there. I think I’ll be safe on a ball field.”

“I doubt it,” she mumbled. Why didn’t he see it? Her on a ball team? Her brother was going to have a heyday with this. “Carter, this is insane.”

“Maybe, but I like a challenge. So you agree?” Jaw set firmly, he met her gaze. He didn’t show the slightest indication of backing down.

What if she said no? Could she find another team to play the Bloomer Girls? Probably not. And the cause in Iowa needed this. Her local girls needed it, and so did she.

Her stomach knotted. “I can’t very well say no. It means too much.”

“In that case, I’ll see you at the ball field the day after tomorrow at noon.”