The Highest of Hopes

by Susan Anne Mason

  “It’s been a long time, but it comes back pretty quickly.” He twisted to look over his shoulder. “Where’s Will?”

  She frowned. “Skating with some girl from work.” Corinne’s fair hair streamed out from under the red tam she was wearing. She pulled Jonathan forward. “Come on, let’s show them how fast we can go.”

  Before he could argue, she propelled him forward, closer to the center where the faster skaters flew by, and he was forced to concentrate on keeping up with her or risk being trampled. Clearly an expert, Corinne kept a firm grip on his arm while weaving them in and out of the crowd in time with the music. Gradually Jonathan found himself enjoying the rush of the air as they glided, and as his confidence grew, his muscles relaxed, allowing him to skate with more fluidity.

  “See, isn’t this fun?” Corinne laughed up at him as they turned a bend.

  Jonathan caught a glimpse of a woman in bright blue gripping the side walls and guilt tugged at him. “It is, but I promised to help Emma.”

  “Let Will take care of her. After all, I asked you out this evening, and if it hadn’t been for my father, we’d be here alone.” She moved her face closer to his, and for an instant, Jonathan thought she was going to kiss him.

  He pulled back and attempted to disengage his arm from hers. What had gotten into the girl? “There’s Will now.” Relief flooded him as he waved the chap over. “Will, take over here for me. I have to help Emma.”

  Ignoring Corinne’s scowl, Jonathan made a quick escape and headed in the direction he’d last seen Emma.

  The loud music finally changed to something slower in tempo, cueing the skaters to reduce their pace around the rink. Couples seemed to pair off, moving in time to the romantic song as though waltzing across a dance floor. At least for the moment, Emma didn’t fear being mowed down by the speedsters. She released a breath and attempted to move away from the wall. There was no way she would stand on the sidelines while Corinne monopolized Jonathan. Not if Emma had anything to say about the matter.

  Jonathan had promised to be right back, yet it seemed he’d forgotten all about her, becoming totally enthralled by skating with Corinne. At one point their heads had been so close, Emma was sure they were kissing—and in public no less. Had Jonathan lost his mind?

  The fact that she was so annoyed by his behavior only irritated Emma more. She did not need Jonathan in order to have a good time. She would make her way on her own.

  The heat of her anger shored her courage. Emma lurched around the oval rink, taking as much care as possible to avoid the infatuated couples. Where was Will? Perhaps he’d come to her aid and steady her.

  “Emma! Wait up.”

  Startled, she turned to see who had called her, but in doing so lost her carefully held balance. Her arms flailed out in a wild attempt to right herself. Just as she braced for a hard landing on the cement floor, a pair of arms pulled her upright.

  “I told you I’d catch you.” Jonathan’s voice sounded near her ear, his breath stirring the tendrils of hair that had escaped her hat.

  “Jonathan.” One foot slid out at a precarious angle.

  “Steady now. Hold on to me.”

  His right arm clasped her around the waist and the other gripped her hand. The heat from his body enveloped her, along with the scent of his aftershave. When he looked down into her eyes, her legs suddenly felt like jelly. If not for his arms supporting her, she’d be a heap on the floor.

  “That’s it. One foot at a time. Just like you’re floating.”

  Shivers rippled down her spine. What was the matter with her? Skating shouldn’t make her this jittery.

  “There you go. It’s just like riding a bike. You never really forget how.”

  “Riding a bike is a lot easier than this.” Her foot slipped and again she almost went down.

  Jonathan tightened his grip and lifted her against his chest. To confound matters, her hat slipped down over one eye, along with several unruly curls. Jonathan slowed them to a gradual stop, then reached out to tip the brim of her hat back up. With one finger, he brushed the hair from her cheek. The intensity in his eyes stole her breath.

  “Emma.” He whispered her name with a longing that spoke to something deep inside her.

  She stared at him as though seeing him for the first time. Her lips parted, and her gaze fell to his mouth. Everyone around them faded to the background. The only thing that registered was Jonathan’s quick breathing and the heat from his body.

  Ever so slowly, he lowered his head toward her. Emma’s heart took on a crazy rhythm of its own, thrumming louder than the beat of the music. Her eyes drifted closed, anticipating the touch of his lips to hers.

  Then an ear-splitting shriek pierced the air.

  Emma jerked back and almost fell again. “That sounded like Corinne,” she said. “We need to make sure she’s all right. Randall asked me to watch out for her. He’ll have a fit if she’s injured.”

  A flash of disappointment crossed Jonathan’s face, but he nodded and steered them across the rink. “Why is he so worried about her?”

  “I get the impression Corinne has a rebellious streak. One he’s determined to curb until she’s married to an appropriate man.” Emma snorted. “Clearly neither you nor Will fall into that category.”

  “Fine by me. I have no desire to be in the running for that position.”

  A bit of the tension left Emma’s shoulders. Perhaps Corinne’s feminine wiles were wasted on Jonathan, and he was merely being polite. She must have been mistaken when she thought they were kissing.

  He slowed to a stop at the edge of a crowd gathered around a fallen skater.

  Emma peeked through the group until she saw her sister on the ground. “Corinne? Are you all right?”

  Corinne grimaced, clutching her leg. “No, I’m not.”

  “It’s all my fault.” Will hovered over her. “I distracted her.” His cheeks blazed red, and he wouldn’t look at Emma.

  “Let’s get her off the rink and see if she needs a doctor.” Jonathan moved toward Corinne to help her up.

  Right away Will swooped in. “I’ll carry her.” He gave Jonathan a pointed look, then bent closer to Corinne.

  Emma watched the interplay with dawning awareness. Did Will have feelings for his boss’s daughter?

  “Get away from me.” Corinne shoved Will hard. “You’ve caused enough problems already.”

  Will blinked in surprise and fell backward with a grunt. His legs splayed out in front of him, the wheels of his skates spinning in helpless circles.

  Jonathan gave Will an apologetic shrug, then lifted the girl into his arms.

  A bolt of heat flared in Emma’s chest at the way Corinne draped her fair head against Jonathan’s shoulder and clung to his neck.

  Emma skated painstakingly over to Will, who had pulled himself to his feet and was brushing the dust from his pants.

  “What on earth happened, Will?” She didn’t think his complexion could get any ruddier, but she was wrong.

  “Nothing. Just an accident.” Will shook his head. “I have to make sure she’s all right.” He skated off, leaving Emma teetering.

  A boy who looked about seventeen reached out to steady her. “Careful, miss. You seem a little shaky.”

  Under normal circumstances, Emma would have been insulted by his cheeky grin. But she was too preoccupied with getting to Corinne and making sure she wasn’t badly hurt. “Thank you. Could you help me over to the benches, please?”

  “Sure thing. Wouldn’t want you to end up like that other girl.” He grinned again.

  “Did you see what happened, by any chance?” she asked as the boy steered her over to the exit.

  “Did I ever! The pretty blonde threw herself at that guy in the tweed cap and tried to kiss him.”

  Emma clutched the fellow’s arm. What would have possessed Corinne to do something so brazen? First, she seemed to be kissing Jonathan, now Will. “Are you certain?” Emma asked the boy.

  “Sure am.
She caught him by surprise, but he pushed her away. That’s when she lost her balance and fell.” He chuckled. “If it had been me, I wouldn’t have turned down a kiss, that’s for sure.”

  Emma couldn’t believe it. No wonder Will looked so uncomfortable. Not only had he rejected Corinne’s advances, but he’d been partly responsible for her fall.

  They reached the nearest bench, and Emma sank gratefully onto the seat. “Thank you for your help.”

  “My pleasure.” He gave a quick wave and skated away.

  Emma scanned the area but couldn’t see Jonathan, Corinne, or Will. She quickly bent to unlace her skates, knowing she’d get nowhere until her feet were on solid ground again. As soon as she found her shoes and shoved them on, she rushed to the counter to turn in her skates. Voices drifted out from an open door. Emma peered inside the tiny room, and her stomach dropped.

  Corinne was seated with her leg up on a crate, her face contorted in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks, while Jonathan studied her swollen ankle.

  Will stood behind him, his brow furrowed.

  Jonathan looked up as Emma entered. “We’d better take her to the hospital. There’s a good chance her ankle is broken.”

  CHAPTER 14

  With the aid of a pair of wooden crutches, Corinne hobbled through the front door of her house, praying that Papa was out at one of his many meetings. She did not relish the fuss he would make over her injury. Nor the reprimand she would receive if he learned the real reason for her accident.

  Her cheeks burned with mortification at the memory. Will’s face, filled with horror, pushing her away as though she were a woman of ill repute.

  But in truth would a woman of ill repute act any less brazen?

  Corinne had obviously misread the signals she thought Will had been giving her while they skated in time to the romantic ballad along with all the other couples. He’d held her hand and looked at her like . . . like a man attracted to a woman. And knowing Will would be too noble to ever act on his feelings, she decided to take the first step.

  Never did she expect such a blatant and painful rejection.

  “Let me help you to the sofa.” Emmaline came up beside her.

  Corinne stiffened her back. Of all the people to witness her utter humiliation, why did it have to be Emmaline? She pulled her arm free of the woman’s hold. “I can do it myself.”

  The front door opened and closed again. Corinne imagined the men had paid the cab driver and come in behind them. She had to get away before Will tried to talk to her. She could not face him right now. Not with her ankle throbbing and her temples pulsing with the start of a headache. If she could just make it to the elevator—

  “Miss Corinne.” The housekeeper rushed into the hallway, wiping her hands on her apron. “What on earth happened?”

  “I’m fine, Mrs. Beck. I just want to go upstairs and lie down.” Before Papa finds out.

  “What is all the commotion out here?” Her father appeared from the entrance to his study. When he caught sight of Corinne, his mouth turned down. “Corinne! What happened?”

  “It’s only a sprain, Papa. Don’t make a fuss.” He was certain to overreact and embarrass her, which was exactly why Corinne hadn’t wanted him to find out, at least not while Will was here.

  Jonathan stepped forward. “It was an accident, sir. It could have happened to anyone.”

  Papa scowled. “I’ll call the doctor and have him come examine you at once.”

  Corinne held back a groan of frustration. “There’s no need. I’ve already seen a doctor. Jonathan and Will took me to the hospital.”

  “What? Why did no one call to inform me?” Anger blazed in her father’s eyes.

  Corinne bit her lip. She should have known better than to say the word hospital in association with her injury. Ever since Marianne contracted polio and had spent so much time in the children’s ward, her father panicked at the mere notion that something was wrong with either of them.

  “There was no point in worrying you for nothing, sir,” Will spoke at last. “If the ankle had been broken, I would have contacted you immediately.”

  A muscle in Papa’s jaw pulsed, a true indication of his agitated state. She needed to diffuse the situation. “I really should lie down and raise my foot. The doctor said putting ice on it would help with the swelling and the pain.”

  Her father’s attention swung back to her. “Of course. I’ll take you upstairs right now. Mrs. Beck, please prepare an ice pack and bring it up to Corinne’s room.”

  “Yes, sir. Right away.”

  Papa took the crutches and leaned them against the wall, then lifted her into his arms.

  Before he could take a step, Will came forward, finally looking at Corinne fully for the first time since the accident. “I’m very sorry you got hurt, Corinne. I hope you’ll be feeling much better in the morning.”

  Her heart hiccupped at the misery shining in his eyes. This wasn’t Will’s fault. She could admit it now. The blame lay solely on her shoulders. “Good night, Will. And I’m sorry too.” She hoped he understood her message—what she was really sorry for—and that her apology would right any wrong between them.

  Her father shifted her in his arms. “Thank you all,” he said gruffly, “for taking care of Corinne and bringing her home. Please see yourselves out.”

  “I must say the professor’s reaction was a bit extreme, don’t you think? It was only a sprained ankle, after all.” Jonathan situated his cap on his head more firmly as they walked. He’d wanted to call another taxi, but Emma had insisted on walking.

  Will had headed off in the other direction, still obviously upset by the turn of events. Perhaps he was as nonplussed by Randall’s reaction as they were and feared further ramifications.

  “I suppose. But Randall admits he’s overly protective of his daughters, or so he told me. I think it’s due to Marianne’s fragile state. He couldn’t save Marianne from polio, so now he’s overcompensating with Corinne.”

  Jonathan threw her a wry look. “Since when did you become an expert in human behavior?”

  She laughed. “I’m no expert, but I have learned a lot from observing people.”

  “Really? Then what do you make of Will’s reaction to the whole thing?”

  “Actually, I have some inside information on that.”

  “What sort of information?”

  “The young man who helped me off the rink told me what happened.” She leaned her head closer as they walked. “He said Corinne threw herself at a man, presumably Will, and tried to kiss him.”

  Jonathan stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not.”

  “That cheeky girl. She tried the same thing with me a few minutes earlier.”

  Emma stared at him, her expression skeptical. “So you didn’t kiss her?”

  He stiffened and glared at her. “Emmaline Moore. Have I ever kissed a girl I barely know in public?”

  “No. At least none that I know of.” She smirked at him.

  “You dare insult my character like that? I should challenge you to a duel.”

  She giggled and squeezed his arm. “You’re too much of a gentleman for that. Or anything else really.” She sighed. “I’m sorry I thought otherwise.”

  “You’re forgiven.” He smiled at her. “But back to Will and Corinne. What happened after she tried to kiss him?”

  “According to my source, Will pushed her away and she lost her balance.”

  “No wonder Will looked so guilty. Poor chap. He’s likely worried for his job now.” He shook his head. “What a terrible position to be in. Kiss the girl and get sacked. Reject the girl, and he’ll still likely get the boot.”

  Emma frowned. “I don’t think my father is that heartless. From what I’ve seen, he thinks very highly of Will. It would take a lot for him to get rid of such a devoted employee.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. I still can’t quite figure out the dynamics of that relationshi
p.”

  “Simple, really. Will is like the son he never had. He probably wishes I’d been a boy. Maybe then he wouldn’t have left me behind so easily.” Sadness washed over her features.

  Before Jonathan could dispute her statement, she linked her arm through his. “Let’s get home. I’ll need a good sleep in order to deal with my father at work tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll hear a lot more about it then.”

  Jonathan swallowed his arguments and followed her around the corner to Jarvis Street, his heart aching at the hurt that lay beneath the surface of Emma’s brave façade.

  Would Randall ever give her the love she desperately sought and heal the wounds that ran so deep?

  Jonathan could only pray that one day he would.

  The next morning, in a vain attempt to have her work pile finished before Randall came in, Emma forced her fingers to move as fast as possible across the typewriter keys without making copious errors. By all rights, her father would not be in a good humor, and Emma wanted to ensure that he would have nothing to add to his troubles.

  “My, aren’t we the eager one this morning, Miss Emma.” Doris crossed the aisle between their desks to stare down at her. “Trying to set a record for most letters typed before ten o’clock? Or just trying to impress the boss?”

  Emma deliberately took her fingers off the keys and looked up. Doris wore an amused expression that softened her angular features.

  “I wanted to get a head start, is all. I think it could be a busy day today.”

  Doris lifted one brow as if to say she didn’t believe a word. But before she could challenge Emma further, the thunder of footsteps sounded in the outer hallway, and seconds later, Randall strode through the door. He didn’t lift his head or speak to anyone in the room. His surly expression matched the slam of his office door.

  “Good grief. What crawled under his skin this morning?” Doris smacked her chewing gum. “You’d better finish those letters and hope he doesn’t call you in to take dictation. In that mood, you’d be lucky to get out with your head still attached.”