by Merry Farmer
“Pretty,” Dorothy said, her smile so big and innocent that Bonnie couldn’t help but smile in return. Maybe holding a baby was what she needed.
“I saw you talking to Rupert Cole just now,” Lucy said. She wore a sly grin, though her eyes were fixed on the baseball players getting in a final practice on the field. Gideon played for the Eastside Eagles, but for this final game he would serve as umpire, along with George.
Bonnie sent Lucy a sideways look, pretending to put all of her energy into playing with Dorothy. She had been talking to Rupert, so there was nothing she could say—or was willing to say—that would add to the conversation.
“He’s a nice man, Rupert Cole,” Lucy went on. A twitch at the corner of her mouth joined the mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Yes,” Bonnie answered, shifting Dorothy to face her so they could play patty-cake.
“You should see some of the house designs he’s put together. He handed a bunch of them in yesterday, two days before we asked for them.”
Even though she was busy making faces at Dorothy, Bonnie’s cheeks flushed hot. “Oh?”
“Yes,” Lucy went on. “Papa is convinced his company is the right one to build the houses he wants out in The Village. And he has half a mind to cut a new street through the meadow north of Elizabeth Street to start a whole new neighborhood.”
“Haskell is growing.” Bonnie still didn’t look directly at her. The crack of a bat drew Dorothy’s attention to the baseball diamond just as the men were heading back to their benches to start the game.
“It most certainly is. I think—and Papa agrees—that King Cole Construction could stand to make quite a bit of money if Mr. Cole’s partner agrees to the deal Papa wants to offer them.”
Finally, Bonnie shifted to look at her friend. Lucy’s smile had turned downright smug. In a way, Bonnie couldn’t blame her. Looked at in simplest terms, Rupert would be quite a catch for any woman. The money he stood to earn from the construction deal—if Skipper King agreed to it—could very well be all she needed to keep her work with the girls going.
If the contract came through.
If Rupert agreed to share his hard-earned money with her.
If Rex didn’t own the deed to her Place.
She hid the agony that had her near tears by lifting Dorothy and repositioning her yet again so that she could watch the baseball game. Her whole life was like trying to hold a toddler still now. She could try a hundred different means to get it to settle down and behave, but something always threw a wrench in the works.
“Here, let me take her back.” Lucy reached over and plucked Dorothy off of Bonnie’s lap. “I expect you’ll be wanting to pay attention to the game.”
Bonnie sent Lucy what she hoped looked like a grateful smile and not a grimace. Lucy was right. She did want to pay attention to the game. Everything she had was riding on it.
The Wolves had a slightly better record than the Bears in the regular season, so were considered the home team for the final game. That meant that the Bears came up to bat first. True to form, Rex’s team began the game the way everyone knew they intended to continue with it. The lead-off batter pointed a sharp finger at Solomon, who took the mound to pitch, then immediately fired a hit straight at his head with a resounding crack. The crowd gasped, Solomon only barely managed to duck, the batter sprinted to first, and the contest was underway.
“Ooh, I hate watching when Bonneville’s team is playing,” Lucy said five minutes later when the same batsman barreled shoulder-first into Sean Ridgeway at third. Sean was slow to get up, but insisted that he wasn’t hurt when George called out to check from home plate. Bonnie was grateful that Trey, captain of the Wolves, had put Rupert out in right field.
That didn’t keep him out of harm’s way when the Wolves came up to bat, the Bears having scored one run. Rupert must have convinced Trey he was a good batter, since he was second in the line-up. That didn’t stop Bonnie’s stomach from clenching as he approached the plate, though. Sure enough, the first pitch thrown at him was literally thrown at him.
“Ball!” George shouted as Rupert dodged. George straightened and warned the pitcher, “I don’t want to see that again, Alfelt!”
“See what?” the pitcher shouted back.
Rex’s low, menacing laugh at Bonnie’s side made her jump out of her skin. “Your friend had better watch out,” he said with a gloating grin.
“If you hurt him…” Bonnie began, but her voice was shaking so hard she couldn’t finish.
Rex put on a mock innocent face and blinked at her in affront. “Me? I’m not going to do anything.”
“Your men, then.”
The exchange ended there as a second ball was pitched to Rupert. This time he managed to hit it, even though it was high and inside. It wasn’t a pretty hit, though, and Rupert was thrown out before he could make it to first.
“I’ll tell my men to be careful where they hit him,” Rex carried on as Rupert walked off the field—cursing, by the looks of things—and Sam Standish came on. Rex leaned closer to Bonnie. “If he’s going to help you and I, he needs at least one part to be in working order. Pity it’s not his face.”
Fury swept up over Bonnie so fast that she had to grip the edge of the bench to keep from flying off the handle. She pinned her eyes on the game, not giving him the satisfaction of snapping back at him. Thank God that even if she did lose her bet with Rupert, she wouldn’t have to go to bed with Rex.
“Although,” Rex murmured, almost as if sensing her thoughts, “it seems like much too much trouble to ask a stranger to contribute to the family, shall we say, when we’ve got family right here who would jump at the chance to cozy up with the new Mrs. Rex Bonneville.”
Rex glanced across the gap between the benches behind home plate and the ones where his team and supporters sat. His son-in-law—and third cousin—Rance Bonneville sat watching the brutal game with a look of bloodlust in his eyes. His wife, Vivian, who Bonnie knew was already carrying the next generation of Bonnevilles, even though they hadn’t made the information public yet, sat stiffly at his side. Rance kept nudging her with his elbow and staring at her chest.
Bonnie tasted bile at the back of her throat. She wondered how long it would be before Rex suggested Rance act as the stud in his grand scheme. At least that way, he could be certain his heir was a true Bonneville. As far as Bonnie was concerned, Rance was already one of her Place’s most frequent visitors, though the girls usually drew straws to see who was unlucky enough to be his sweetheart for the night. The only reason she hadn’t banned him from her Place was because, as several of her girls had confirmed, he was fast money.
Rance must have sensed her watching him, because he turned and caught both her and Rex staring. The grin that crossed his face was enough to make Bonnie wonder if Rex had already laid out his plans to his son-in-law-cousin. She swallowed and forced her attention back on the game, blocking out anything Bonneville that wasn’t on the field.
Ignoring Rex worked. By the time another inning had passed, he was called away to consult with his team captain. Bonnie breathed a sigh of relief and released the tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in her back and shoulders. Until Lucy leaned closer to her.
“Please tell me you aren’t really going to marry that man,” she whispered.
At just that moment, one of the Bears hit a long fly ball into right field, where Rupert caught it.
“We’ll see,” Bonnie replied.
The game continued to stay close. By the third inning, the Wolves were up by a run. By the fifth, the Bears had pulled ahead by two. The crowd rose to their feet every time a solid hit was made. They cheered and booed for good plays and for underhanded tactics. Al was tagged out at second, and when he returned to the Wolves’ bench limping, a disapproving murmur rose from the crowd, all of whom suspected foul play.
By the seventh inning the sun was sinking lower on the horizon, and the Bears’ tactics with it. One of Rex’s men slid into home
so hard that he crashed into George, sending him toppling. The Wolves’ players jeered and shouted that the runner was out, that he’d targeted George specifically so that no one could prove he wasn’t safe, but since George really hadn’t seen one way or another, the run was allowed. George dragged himself to his feet with a wince, and the score was tied.
“Really,” Lucy huffed. “If they’re going to start beating down the umpires, the Bears should be disqualified altogether.” More than anger lined her face, though. She kept her gaze firmly fixed on her husband, standing warily in the first-base umpire’s position.
“Don’t worry.” Bonnie reached to the side and patted Lucy’s arm without really seeing her. “It’ll all be over soon.”
And how! Two more innings to go before her fate was decided. Rex or Rupert, Rupert or Rex. Heaven help her, but if the Wolves won, she would stand up to Rex, tell him the wedding was off and he could be the villain she knew him to be and close down her Place. And if the Bears won, well, she would look Rupert in the eye and tell him it was never meant to be between the two of them, whether it killed her or not. And if he protested, she would tell him that George had gone and filed the divorce decree with a forged signature, and if he protested it she would swear he signed it.
The eighth inning dragged on with no runs and the score set at four-four. The ninth opened with the Bears putting in their meanest, hardest-throwing pitcher. He led off by beaning Trey in the shin, sending him limping back to the fence that separated home plate from the stands where Bonnie sat.
“There is no way I’m letting that turd win this game,” Trey growled, then limped back into place.
But Rex’s slugger struck him out. He struck out the next batter, Solomon, too. He managed to walk Sean, but only because he pulled the same dirty trick that he had with Trey and hit Sean in the hip. He was losing steam in his pitches, though, and only provoked a wince in Sean, who shook off the pain. It was all for naught, though. Sam struck out next. The only hope for the Wolves was to take the game to extra innings.
Rex knew it too.
“What a fine wedding present for my boys to give me,” he chuckled, strutting over to stand by Bonnie’s side. “We can display the league trophy at our wedding reception.”
“The game’s not over yet, Mr. Bonneville,” Lucy snapped from Bonnie’s other side.
“No, you’re right.” Rex dropped his voice, staring at Bonnie with narrowed eyes. “The game is only just beginning.”
A chill passed down Bonnie’s spine. She gripped the edge of the bench with both hands and focused on the game, focused on Rupert. They had moved him to center field after Al’s injury. He should have been watching the game, but instead he stood straight, staring right back at her. Or rather, at Rex cozying up to her side.
The first Bears’ batter was struck out. The crowd swelled with cheers. The second hit a ground double, making it all the way to second safely. The crowd groaned. The third got out, but the man on second managed to make it to third.
When the fourth batter stepped up to the plate, the tension in the crowd was palpable. Bonnie folded her hands in prayer, pressing them to her mouth, but she had no idea what she was praying for. Did she want her own personal happiness to be assured at the expense of her girls? Could she live with herself that way? Could she live with herself if she married Rex and went through with his increasingly bone-chilling demands? And what might he do with her after he had his heir and didn’t need her any longer?
The thoughts jumbled and swirled through her head. Rex or Rupert, Rupert or Rex. Forget the rest of the game, it was Rupert she watched, heart racing, barely breathing. Once again, he was watching her instead of the action of the game. The distance between them made it hard to gauge his expression, but she could have sworn that it was something other than the dogged determination she would have expected from a man intent on winning back the love of his life. It was almost sad, almost…sacrificial.
The ball whizzed out of the pitcher’s hand. It hit the bat with a loud crack. It sailed high into the air, heading straight for Rupert. The runner on third hesitated, then bolted for home plate. Rupert reached out his arms. The ball sailed right to him, closer, closer. He positioned himself directly under it, ready for the easy catch.
His face pinched.
He froze.
The ball dropped to the ground.
The runner made it home.
The Bears won.
Bonnie belonged to Rex.
Chapter 12
“Don’t worry about it. The sun gets in my eyes sometimes too.” Trey did his best to comfort Rupert as the Wolves’ team slumped their way off of the field. The small section of Bonneville’s supporters cheered and whooped as Gunn handed over the league trophy. The rest of Haskell’s citizens moped and mumbled, a few of them sending Rupert dirty looks as they gathered their things to go home.
They had no idea that Rupert’s loss eclipsed any of theirs by miles. Or that he’d given in to that loss on purpose.
“We’ll win it next year,” Al growled, half determined, half dejected. He slapped Trey’s back, but did nothing but stare at Rupert.
“Sorry,” Rupert mumbled. What else could he do? He’d lost the game, which meant he’d lost his standing with his new friends, at least temporarily. Any other day, a consolation beer at the saloon would give them all a chance to lick their wounds and make friends again. This loss went much deeper.
He changed directions, letting the rest of the team walk on to their bench together while he veered toward the fence separating home plate from the grandstand behind it. George was slowly peeling off his umpire’s pads, but that didn’t stop him from scowling as Rupert passed, as if he knew exactly what he’d done, how he’d dropped the catch on purpose.
He’d done what he had to do. Now that he finally understood things from Bonnie’s point of view, the only thing he could do was throw the game, let her proceed with her plan to marry Bonneville, and protect the one thing she loved more than anything, more than him.
“Not such a big man after all, are you,” Bonneville taunted him from the other side of the fence. Bonnie had slipped off the stand where she’d spent the entire game visibly on edge. Mrs. Faraday, who had been sitting next to her with a little girl on her lap, climbed down to stand nearby, her confused gaze fixed on Rupert. Bonnie stood by Bonneville’s side, hand resting in the crook of his arm. She refused to look at him.
“Another day, Bonneville.” Rupert’s intention was to speak to Bonnie, to try to find a way to explain his decision to give up. He changed his mind after one smug sneer from Bonneville. If the man kept that up, he’d have words with him. He’d get into a fight, change his mind and battle to have Bonnie by his side. He couldn’t afford to do that. Bonnie’s life wasn’t his to gamble with.
“Hey Rex, we need you for the trophy ceremony!” A man also wearing a somewhat disheveled suit who bore a vague resemblance to Bonneville called from the cluster of celebrating Bears.
“In a minute, Rance,” Bonneville shouted back. He tightened his grip on Bonnie’s arm and narrowed his eyes at Rupert. “I just want to make sure we’re done here.”
Rupert waited to reply. He waited, heart breaking, until Bonnie glanced up, meeting his eyes. She knew. One glance was all it took to see she knew he’d thrown the game on purpose, handed her over to Bonneville and her own, original plan. The depth of the grief in her blue eyes was more than Rupert could bear.
“We’re done,” he answered, turning away. He met Mrs. Faraday’s eyes for a moment, but couldn’t bear to glance back at Bonnie, as much as he wanted to. His heart was broken, there was no point in stomping on the pieces. Mrs. Faraday opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again, pressing her lips shut and looking to Bonnie instead. Rupert walked away.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Rupert flinched and pivoted at the hissed comment to find George marching after him, umpire’s pads under his arms. George wore a scowl that Rupert didn’t
think a pastor was capable of.
“I’m heading to the bench to pick up my things, then I’m going back to the hotel,” Rupert answered, more sarcastic than he felt.
George ignored the bite. “You’re just going to let Bonnie walk off with Bonneville that way?”
“Yep.” Rupert walked on, shoulders hunched, chest constricted.
George grabbed his arm to stop him. “You can’t.”
Rupert’s brow flew up. “What do you mean, telling me what I can and can’t do?”
With an impatient huff, George said, “You love Bonnie. Any fool can see that.”
“Yeah?” Rupert swallowed, scowling.
“And unless I’ve completely lost touch with my ability to read members of my own congregation, Bonnie loves you too.”
Rupert frowned and glanced out over the baseball field. A few people had hung back to clean up, but already it was nearly deserted as Haskell went back to normal.
George made a wordless sound of frustration. “You and I both know that Bonneville will be bad for Bonnie. Very bad.” Rupert crossed his arms, refusing to look back at George, but he listened. “She thinks he’ll give her the money she needs to run her Place, but he won’t. At least not for any length of time.”
A twitch pulled at Rupert’s cheek. Did George know about Rex holding the deed to the Place? He shifted his eyes only to stare at the man. Judging by the unwavering expression he wore, maybe not.
George’s tight expression broke down to exhaustion a moment later. He used his free hand to rub his face. “As far as I can see, you’re the only person who can talk her out of this plan, but you just walked away from the situation.”
“I didn’t walk away,” Rupert argued. He swallowed, clenched his jaw. “I lost.”
George’s eyes narrowed. “Lost? Is that what you’re calling it?” He shuffled his pads in his arms so that he could assume a more aggressive stance. “Don’t think I didn’t see you drop that catch on purpose.”