A Great Catch (17 page)

Raised voices outside her window called Emily from a most delightful, Carter-filled dream. Propping herself on one elbow, she strained to hear who was speaking.

Aunt Millie’s singsong voice came through first. “Helen Alamander was quite certain it was our Emily.”

“I’m telling you, Kate, it’s scandalous.” Aunt Ethel sounded mortified.

Fear gripped Emily’s chest. What on earth could they be referring to? The time she’d spent alone with Carter in the Kursaal? But who could possibly have known about that?

Emily stuffed her feet into her shoes, reset the pins in her hair, and hurried outside.

“She’s ruined!” Aunt Millie wailed. “Our sweet Emily is ruined.”

Emily gasped and stopped short. She pressed her hand to her chest. “Aunt Millie, how can you say such a thing?”

“Come sit down, dear.” Grandma Kate pointed to one of the empty rocking chairs.

Emily lowered herself into it and folded her hands in her lap. Unfortunately, all three members of her meddlesome trio remained standing. “What’s wrong?”

“Emily,” her grandmother began, “this morning, while your aunts were playing bridge, your name came up.”

“It did?”

Aunt Ethel stepped forward, and the sharp lines on her face declared her harsh judgment. “Helen Alamander said she saw you with the Stockton boy.”

Emily’s heart beat faster. The refuge from the rain. It had to be. What else would upset the three women so? Emily swallowed the lump lodged in her throat. “That’s quite possible.”

“Don’t you want to know where she saw you?” Aunt Ethel pointed in the direction of the lake. “Out there. In one of those electric launches.”

Emily breathed a sigh of relief. This whole thing had to be some kind of mistake. “And?”

Grandma Kate sat down in the wicker rocker beside her. “Sweetheart, she says she saw you sleeping with Carter.”

Emily’s jaw dropped and her face heated. “Sleeping with Carter? And you believe I’d do something so improper?” Then, in a flash, realization exploded and Emily began giggling.

“This is not funny!” Aunt Ethel snapped.

“I’m sorry, but are you sure she said ‘with’ and not ‘on’?”

“What difference does it make?” Aunt Millie dabbed tear-filled eyes with the edge of her apron.

“Because I did fall asleep on Carter’s shoulder in the boat on the way back from the bowling alley. I was so tired. He woke me up when we docked and then walked me home.”

“Oh.” Aunt Millie covered her mouth with her hand.

“Is that all?” Her grandmother sat up straighter. “Not that I doubted your virtue. I knew you wouldn’t let any man take liberties with you and it had to be something like that.”

Lips pursed, Aunt Ethel scowled. “Well, it’s still unseemly.”

“Perhaps, but innocent as well.” Her grandmother stood and turned to her aunts. “As for you two, perhaps a little less gossip and a little more card playing are in order.”

“I’m sorry for doubting you, dear.” Aunt Millie patted her shoulder.

Grandma Kate quirked an eyebrow toward her other sister.

Aunt Ethel’s lips thinned. “I suppose apologies are in order, but you’d better be more mindful of appearances, young lady. Your choices reflect on those around you.”

As her heartbeat returned to a normal rhythm, Emily took a deep breath. Aunt Ethel was right. While this wasn’t a serious situation, another instance might be. She needed to be more careful when it came to Carter. Every decision she made affected the suffrage cause, and she couldn’t let her feelings, however intense, harm that work in any way.

After reining in his horse, Carter climbed down from his phaeton. Life at the lake hadn’t required the use of the sporty rig often, and he’d missed the feel of control while commanding it. He patted Curveball’s chocolaty neck and secured the fidgety horse to the hitching post.

He sauntered toward the Yacht Club to meet Emily and plucked a single daisy from beside the path. Once again she’d sequestered herself with her suffrage club, intent on making this game with the Bloomer Girls her crowning glory. She’d worked so many hours in the last week, he’d almost forgotten what she looked like.

Her moss-green eyes and perfect smile filled his mind. Warmth fanned in his belly. He chuckled. Perhaps he remembered her after all. With any luck, he’d pry her away for a few hours.

Taking a seat on the rail of the fence, Carter waited until clusters of ladies exited the flag-topped building. He waved at the few he knew—Olivia DeSoto, Sally Nesmit, Marguerite, and Lilly. No surprise—Emily came out last.

She skipped down the steps, seemingly without a second thought to falling, and pride puffed his chest. In the last couple weeks, she’d changed. She appeared more confident, and he hoped he deserved a bit of the credit. The Lord knew she’d certainly changed him.

He hopped down from his perch and met her on the walk.

“For you.” He held out the daisy. “Your favorite, right?”

“You remembered.”

“Of course I did. The other day you said you loved its simple beauty.” A rosy blush bloomed on her cheeks, and he grinned. “And I brought you something else too.”

He pulled a folded paper sack from his pocket, opened it, and held out a lemon drop. Holding it to her lips, he waited until she opened her mouth before plopping it in.

“Mmmm. Tart and sweet. Thank you. I didn’t expect to see you this afternoon. I thought you had a game in Glenwood.”

“We did.” They fell in step as they walked. “But they had to postpone it. Their pitcher broke his arm. So I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

Her eyes flickered merrily. “And that’s supposed to be a good thing?”

Carter placed his hand over his heart. “You wound me.”

“I don’t think I could deflate your ego so easily.” She giggled and fingered the flower. “I’m not sure I can spare—”

“Emily, you haven’t had a moment to yourself all week.” The acidic taste of frustration made his jaw tick. She hadn’t made a moment for him either.

Lilly strode up beside the couple and plucked the tablet from Emily’s hands. “Shoo.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Lilly waved the tablet in the air. “Shoo. Get out of here. Go have fun. There’s nothing on this list that can’t wait until morning.” Lilly nudged her with the papers. “And as long as we’re talking about how you spend your time, you might consider setting aside a little for the Lord too.”

“Lilly.”

The hard-edged warning in Emily’s voice surprised Carter. Perhaps he should ask Emily about it later. But for now he had other plans.

“You heard the lady.” Carter swept his arm in a grand gesture. “Your carriage awaits.”

Emily popped a second lemon drop in her mouth. She sucked on the candy and waited for the sweet, sugar-coated outside to give way to the sour center.

Seated beside Carter in the phaeton, Emily grabbed the edge of the carriage as the horse picked up speed. Rolling Iowa hills passed by in a dizzying blur of green and brown, and a cloud of dust trailed behind them. She lifted her face to the wind.

Carter glanced in her direction. “Do you want me to slow down?”

“No!” Her cheeks warmed and she turned to him. “I mean, I like to go fast.”

“I thought you would.” He skirted a hole and directed the horse around a bend in the dirt-packed road. A straight stretch loomed before them.

Emily touched his arm. “May I drive?”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know, Emily. There are lots of ruts from the rain, and Curveball here is still young and hard to handle. She’s even scared of grasshoppers.”

“Just tell the truth, Carter. You don’t trust me.” She swallowed the hurt.

“It’s not that.”

“Trust comes from proving oneself. That’s why it’s been so hard for women to earn the trust of men. If we are never given the opportunities, then how can we prove what we can handle?”

He shook his head and reined Curveball in. “I should never argue with you.”

“Smart man.”

After passing the reins to Emily, Carter leaned back in his seat. “Prove away, Miss Graham.”

She snapped the reins, and Curveball galloped down the road.

“Can’t you at least ease into it?”

“Tackle everything head-on, I always say.” Emily didn’t let the horse have her head, but she gave her more freedom than most would on the less than pristine road conditions. They bounced and jostled and even skidded a bit as they rounded another turn.

She glanced at Carter. He didn’t flinch. Impressive.

Finally, she eased up and let Curveball continue at a gentler pace. “Do you want the reins back?”

“No, I don’t have to drive. You’re doing fine.” He held another lemon drop to her lips.

She parted them and accepted the sweet treat. “You’re not like most men. Did you know that?”

“Because I let you drive my rig? I knew you could.”

“Actually, because you don’t always have to be in control.” She held out the reins to him. “I don’t always have to drive either.”

He slipped his arms around her and covered her hands with his own. “How about we drive together?”

His heated breath sent prickles down her neck, and she leaned into the strength of his arms. The clean, fresh scent of his soap tickled her nose. Although she kept hold of the reins, he controlled the horse now, and his calloused hands easily covered her own. She leaned against the wide expanse of his chest and closed her eyes. Was there a better way to ride?

They reached the crest of a hill, the steady drumming of Carter’s heart against her back echoing the
clop
,
clop
,
clop
of Curveball’s hooves. She caught a whiff of swine and glanced around for the pigpen. At the bottom of the hill, a sow lay in the mud, nursing her piglets. How could something so small make such a rancid stench? Phew! Her eyes began to water, and she turned her head into the sleeve of her dress.

The phaeton’s wheel dropped into a hole with a
thunk
. Emily jerked and swallowed. The lemon drop wedged in her throat.

She yanked her hands from beneath Carter’s and grabbed her throat. Heart pounding, she tried to suck in air. None came.

“Emily?”

She tried to answer.

Carter yanked the reins, and Curveball snorted in protest at the abrupt stop.

Eyes wide, Emily prayed Carter understood what was happening. Why couldn’t she breathe? The corners of her vision grew fuzzy, and she frantically pointed to her throat.

Pushing her shoulders forward, Carter whacked her on the back with his open hand. On the third blow, the lemon drop flew through the air and landed on the dirt road.

He pulled her against him while she sucked in the rank, pig-scented air.

After several minutes, she inched away, but he continued to rub circles on her back. “You scared the living daylights out of me. Are you all right?”

She nodded and croaked, “Yes, thanks to you.”

“And God.” His chest heaved against her arm as he leaned close and kissed her temple.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put a damper on our day.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m just glad you’re okay.” They remained on the side of the road for several minutes. Finally, Carter squeezed her shoulders. “Ready to head back?”

She nodded.

“Nice and slow. No more life-and-death experiences.”

“Sounds good. I’m not ready to meet my Maker today.”

Carter turned the rig around in an intersection. “Speaking of Him, what did Lilly mean about you taking time for the Lord?”

Emily stiffened. “Lilly’s always got one hand on the Bible.”

“And you don’t?” His light tone grew serious.

“I have other things to do than read my Bible all day.”

“Why did Lilly bring that up?”

Emily sighed. A now familiar surge of guilt nudged her. Why hadn’t Lilly kept her mouth shut?

Carter gave her a halfhearted chuckle. “Is God getting about as much of your time as I am?”

She smiled weakly. “Sort of.”

“And that’s okay with you?”

“Carter, it’s not like it will be like this forever.”

“Really, Emily? Do you see yourself changing? Am I missing something?” He snapped the reins, and Curveball switched from a walk to a trot. “Things will slow down as soon as the game is over.”

“And what then? What’s the next cause you’ll take on? What’s going to get your undivided attention then?”

“Carter, why are you talking to me like this? This hasn’t been a problem before. One minute we’re having a delightful ride, except for the almost choking to death part, and the next we’re bickering like my aunts.” She paused, tilting her head toward him. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous of my suffrage work?”

Carter slowed Curveball and directed the phaeton onto a side road. He reined the horse to a stop and turned to Emily, his caramel eyes darker than she’d ever seen them. Curling his hand around the back of her neck, he locked his gaze on her. “Maybe I am jealous. Maybe I had a glimpse of how it would feel to lose you. Maybe I want you to tell me there’s nothing to worry about, because the more I’m with you, the more of you I want.”

His words sent a blend of fear and joy rippling through her. Somewhere in the last few seconds, the conversation had flipped, and the unfamiliar ground left her more trembly than the lack of air had.

With soft pressure, he pulled her toward him, tracing her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb before claiming the spot with his lips.

He tasted of lemon drops. Sweet and tart. Warm and wonderful. The kiss deepened, and the explosion of feelings left her heart fluttering. His hands slipped to her waist, and he drew her closer.

She pressed against him, wanting and needing his touch.

A hunger awakened, and she realized she wanted more of him too.

Carter leaned against the railing lining the boardwalk, and Ducky squeezed in beside him. They both peered up.

The Great Lorenzo, a renowned tightrope walker, mounted the ladder leaning against a pole that had been erected on the beach near the Grand Plaza. Another pole nearly ten yards away stood in the water, and a thin rope hung taut between the two.

Carter elbowed Ducky’s ribs. “I bet I wouldn’t catch you walking any little ropes forty or fifty feet in the air.”

Ducky laughed. “No sirree, but I bet it looks fun to you.”

“I’ve been known to take a few chances.” Carter shielded his eyes from the sinking sun. “But that’s not really your way of doing things.”

“I take chances.”

“Eating the new menu item at the lunch counter does not count.” Carter chuckled.

“At least I can tell a good risk when I see one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m saying you have a habit of only risking stuff on sure things.”

“Such as?”

“When you have to take a real chance, you sort of ignore it and hope it will go away before you have to make a decision. Like that baseball scout who visited college last year.”

Carter clenched his jaw. Ducky’s words hit home. The scout had professed an interest in Carter, but he hadn’t followed up on it. When the man never returned, it made Carter’s decision easy.

Why had he done that?

Not ready to face those demons, he turned his gaze toward the performer. The tightrope walker balanced a long pole in his hands. The crowd hushed. Slowly the barefoot man took his first steps on the wire. He teetered and the crowd gasped.

Carter clenched the railing. A funny feeling made his chest tighten. He’d never admit it, but he hated heights. Give him anything on the ground any day, but don’t make him climb higher than the water toboggan slides in the lake.

“Halfway there,” Ducky whispered.

Licking his lips, Carter inhaled slowly. He should have gone to see Emily instead of taking in this show. Then again, lately she’d been almost as scary as the high wire. That little buggy ride yesterday had put the fear of God in him—and he wasn’t talking about the lemon drop episode. Never before had a simple kiss turned into so much more and left him on the brink of losing control.