“On the contrary, he is wonderful. But even though I joined the Liberty Belles, Beck still won’t grant his permission for me to marry Alonzo.”
“Why do you suppose that is?” Winnie tipped her head, indicating that they should take a turn about the ballroom. Arm in arm, they strolled past chattering groups.
“He says it is because Alonzo might want our money, but Alonzo didn’t know who my brother is when we met at a church function.”
“Are you certain? He might have gleaned your identity prior to that day, much as I hate to say it, or judged your wealth by your clothing.”
Lulu’s head shook violently. “Alonzo had just arrived from New York to care for his uncle. When we met, we were packing missionary barrels, and I wore something two years out of fashion.”
Two whole years. Winnie bit back a smile. Still, it did seem the couple’s first meeting began innocently enough. “Alonzo sounds like a decent fellow, but I understand you’ve not known him long. Perhaps if Beck had more time to get to know him, it would help?”
“I’ve told him Alonzo and I are willing to wait a year, but he still resists. I don’t know how to convince him Alonzo doesn’t care about my inheritance. Or money at all.”
“That makes him a rare gentleman, indeed.”
“He’s the real reason I joined the Liberty Belles. When I told him Beck blathered on about how I should better understand cooperation and teamwork, Alonzo agreed with him!”
“Did he? I thought the opposite, since he kept you late from practice.”
“That was me. I dragged my feet that day. But something has changed. I am enjoying being among new friends, and last week at the hospital, I saw the world is much bigger than the home I wish to start with Alonzo. I shouldn’t neglect helping others.”
Winnie squeezed Lulu’s arm. “I am so glad to hear this. I’m certain Beck is, too.”
“Poor Beck.” Lulu sighed. “The biggest reason Beck refuses his blessing, I fear, has nothing to do with my maturity or even Alonzo. Years ago, his heart was smashed like a saucer. No matter how many pieces one recovers and attempts to glue back together, there are always tiny shards missing, and the poor plate never looks quite right again.”
Winnie’s heart ached for Beck. At the same time, she could understand what love did to a person. After knowing Beck, she would never be the same again. When the exhibition ended and they parted as friends, the china saucer of her heart would bear a chip.
Winnie’s steps faltered. Love? She was drawn to Beck … but love?
Lulu pulled her around a potted palm. “See, he is speaking with her now. I do not know how he manages to be so cordial.”
Beck and Jocelyn Jones exchanged polite smiles before he bowed and scanned the room for someone—Lulu, because the instant he saw her and Winnie, he grinned and strode toward them. At the same moment, Dru and her beau, Xavier, drew alongside.
Blond-haired Xavier stood a full half-foot taller than Dru, and Winnie had to crane her neck to smile up at him. Xavier and Beck shook hands—apparently they had met at some sort of club meeting, but in his profession as a banker, Xavier seemed to know everyone, anyway. “Seems several of your teammates have arrived.”
“Irene and Nora,” Dru welcomed. Colleen and her fiancé, a mustachioed art dealer Winnie had met several times, followed behind. Other Liberty Belles attended, too. Gladys chatted with Victor near the door, and over in the corner, Fannie and Rowena greeted an older couple.
Winnie’s heart still thumped in her ears over Beck once caring for Jocelyn Jones, but he was looking at her quizzically, so she fumbled for something to say. “Isn’t this pavilion enchanting?”
“I was just saying the same thing to Xavier.” Dru shook her head at Winnie. “I’m amazed we missed this when we were looking about the grounds a few weeks ago.”
“We must come back to see everything, Ives.” Colleen smiled at her fiancé.
“You’ve not viewed the exhibitions?” Beck asked. When their heads shook, he turned to the Huntoon sisters. “How about you?”
Nora smiled. “The Main Exhibition Building only.”
Dru tutted. “You must visit the ancillary buildings before the Exhibition closes in November.”
Irene’s mouth twisted. “I’m not much interested in agriculture.”
“There’s so much more than that. What of the foreign pavilions?” Winnie had enjoyed their exhibits. “The Japanese dwelling was fascinating.”
Dru nodded. “We also tried root beer from Mr. Hines.”
“Oh, it was delicious. We had some, too.” Lulu nudged her brother. “Beck enjoyed the Machinery Hall most, of course.”
Everyone chuckled except for Winnie. “That makes perfect sense. You don’t just own Emerson Works. You’re invested in every aspect of it.”
Lulu rolled her eyes. “Indeed. We barely made it on time tonight. He and Gilby were poring over plans and papers.”
Beck shrugged, unapologetic. “A few employees are staying tonight to finish a project. They are my responsibility. I had to ensure it was well for me to leave tonight.”
Winnie liked his meticulousness.
She liked so many things about him that it took her a few moments to realize the conversation had gone on without her, and Dru was extolling the delights of the Women’s Pavilion. “… engineering, art, and a sculpture made of butter, Dreaming Iolanthe. Winnie and I joked about returning to it with yeast rolls in our bags.”
“You wouldn’t!” Lulu laughed.
“Of course not,” Winnie said, smiling. “But it was funny.”
Beck’s rich laugh drew her gaze, and oh if she didn’t almost blurt out how handsome he looked. She could stare at him forever. Maybe it was a good thing the music changed and everyone shifted.
Xavier inclined his head. “I hear a waltz, Dru. Will you do me the honor?”
She pretended to consider, making them all laugh, before nodding. “I should be delighted.”
They moved to the dance floor, followed by Colleen and Ives, and gentlemen appeared asking for the other ladies’ hands, leaving Winnie and Beck alone on the perimeter of the dance floor. He didn’t ask. She didn’t look at him.
But she couldn’t deny her feelings for him. She wished to spend as much time with him as she could before the exhibition game, so she prayed for boldness and faced Beck, her heart ramming at her ribcage.
Beck didn’t usually feel sorry for himself, but the nagging bites of self-pity and jealousy nipped at his gut as he watched the couples twirl about the floor. Tonight, he’d pay all he had for five minutes to hold Winnie in both his arms and lead her in a dance.
To feel whole, not just outside but inside, too. To feel new.
The way she faced him, smiling, he almost did feel it.
Winnie tipped her head toward the dance floor. “You should dance.”
He wished he could. “I cannot.”
“Yes, you can.” She swallowed. Hard. “It is poor form for me to ask you, but should you like to, I will say yes.”
“I truly cannot.”
“Because you don’t know how, or because of your arm?”
“My mother ensured I took lessons. But my arm—”
“You do not need it. Ask me to dance, and I will show you.”
“Winnie—”
“Ask me.”
He felt a corner of his lip twitch. “You already said yes.”
“Incorrigible,” she muttered—her favorite word for him.
A more accurate term for him would be coward. He just didn’t like to look a fool, which is precisely what Jocelyn had said would happen if he attempted a dance with her at her debut ball, weeks before she ended things between them.
But Jocelyn had never looked at him the way Winnie did now, with warm, trusting eyes and a smile of genuine delight.
He’d played it safe for so long. Maybe, just this once, he shouldn’t. And Winnie looked so very beautiful tonight. How could he resist her?
“Will you do me th
e honor, Winifred?”
“The honor is mine, Beckett.”
She nodded at his right hand and glanced at her left side. With no small amount of hesitation, he placed his hand above her waist, at the small of her back. Instead of placing her left hand on his right shoulder, as was expected, she rested her right hand on his left shoulder and held her left hand to the side in a graceful pose. “See? We do not need your left hand. We are balanced like this.”
It didn’t look a thing like proper waltz posture, nor was it conducive to dancing. “How shall I lead you, hmm?”
“I think we will manage.”
Beck wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t much care anymore if he looked foolish or their dancing was lopsided.
They stood two feet apart, but it was closer than he’d been to anyone in a long time, except when Lulu took his arm. Or, come to think of it, when Gladys needed help with batting practice.
This was different, though. He couldn’t look away from her. Winnie’s dark eyes crinkled into happy crescents, the way they always did when she smiled, and it made him smile, too.
He couldn’t help but tease. “Is this the most awkward dance of your life?”
“Oh no, that was with Dru’s brother Aloysius at her debut ball. He didn’t speak, shuddered from time to time, and bore a pinched expression. I thought I was doing a horrid job, which made me stiff and nervous, but it turned out that he had a burr in his stocking, and every time he stepped on it, he wanted to cry out in pain.”
“If only he’d said something. Poor Aloysius.”
“Poor Aloysius.” She laughed, tipping back her head and exposing her neck. The delicate fragrance of her perfume wafted about him, filling his senses with blossoms and spring. For a moment, he felt like a boy again, that same liveliness and hope and yearning for the future all tangling in his gut. Like he was falling in love again.
He stumbled, causing her to misstep and clutch his shoulder. Beck gripped her waist to support her, but she righted at once. “Do you have a burr in your stocking?”
“No, I’m just clumsy.” And addlepated, thinking he could fall in love again.
She swayed with the music, never losing time. “You aren’t clumsy. You have excellent aim on the baseball diamond.”
“I was not much of a dancer before the war.”
“You were a boy before the war. You had little opportunity to dance.”
“Precisely.”
She laughed, which was what he wanted. Winnie’s laughter was the best thing in the world. Better, even, than baseball.
“I’m glad you asked me to dance.”
Her eyes widened with mock dismay. “I did no such thing. It would have been indecorous of me to ask a gentleman to dance.”
“Terribly so. But I’m glad all the same.”
“Me, too.”
He would dance with her again. She was right. He hadn’t needed two hale arms. All he’d needed was the openness to try. Maybe he should follow suit when it came to his feelings, too. He was more than halfway to being in love with Winnie, anyway. Love wasn’t safe, though. It came with the frightening possibility of getting hurt, or being used, like Lulu probably was by Alonzo. Like he had been twelve years ago by Jocelyn.
But exchanging the briefest of pleasantries with Jocelyn tonight didn’t hurt a whit. How sad, because he’d taken so few risks in the past twelve years because of her, but as Winnie had pointed out, risk was necessary to gain something greater, sometimes.
Winnie was so many things he admired. She cared for the children at the hospital, her little neighbor Penny, and her father. Her intelligence charmed him as much as her smile did. She was a loving friend, a dutiful daughter, and an amazing pitcher.
He was wrong. He wasn’t halfway to being in love with her. He loved her. No dispute.
“Winnie?”
The music ended and she lowered her hand. “Yes?”
“Sir?” A lanky, uniformed manservant appeared at Beck’s elbow. “Are you Beckett Emerson?”
“I am.” A sense of dread unspooled in his stomach.
“This arrived for you. I was told it’s urgent.”
Beck took the folded sheet of paper from him and flicked it open with his thumb. Gil’s scrawl covered the page, its message brief and calm in tone, but the words dried Beck’s mouth. “I must go.”
Winnie’s fingers landed on his forearm. “What has happened? May I help?”
“Ensure Lulu gets home, please. I must leave without her. At once.” It was hard to look Winnie in the eye as he spoke. He’d started to lose control of his feelings, but this was the perfect reminder that he must take caution in every aspect of life in order to prevent disaster. “There’s trouble at Emerson Works.”
Chapter Six
Trouble could mean a thousand things, but Beck’s stricken look told Winnie that whatever happened at Emerson Works was a serious matter. She found Papa, and they gathered Lulu and culled Victor from a conversation with Gladys, piling everyone into the carriage and returning to Rittenhouse Square. Lulu waited with Winnie in the parlor while Papa made inquiries, and within the hour he told them there had been a fire at Emerson Works.
“A small one,” he clarified, “but it could have been worse, if Beckett hadn’t put so many precautions in place.”
“Was anyone—” The words stuck in Winnie’s throat.
“No. And the building stands. Louise, you’re welcome to stay, if you wish.”
Lulu’s head shook. “I should be home when Beck returns.”
Papa delivered her there personally, and when he returned, Winnie was standing where he’d left her. “What’s this? It’s well, poppet.” Papa patted her cheek with his cold hand. “But you may not see your coach at practice tomorrow.”
Winnie sank into a chair in an unladylike slump. “I don’t care about practice. It’s Beck and his workers I’m worried about.”
“Hmm.” Papa eyed her funny. “I’m off to bed.”
It was a happy surprise when Beck and Lulu arrived at practice the following afternoon. Beck carried a bag over his shoulder, his head bowed so she couldn’t read his expression. Lulu, however, looked grim.
Oh dear. Things at Emerson Works must have been worse than Papa thought. Winnie hastened toward them just as Beck lifted his head. “Ralph, come pass these out.”
Colleen’s brother dashed past her, reaching for the bag. Winnie wished she could run, too, but running toward a gentleman was not as acceptable as running base to base on the diamond, so she walked as fast as she could.
Ralph dropped the pack to the ground and bent inside, pulling out white baseball caps embroidered with royal blue letters: LB.
“Liberty Belle caps!”
Lulu showed the players one of several professional, eye-catching flyers Beck had printed up announcing next week’s exhibition game between the Liberty Belles and the Patriots to be held on Jefferson Grounds, on the corner of Master and 25th Streets. The flyers included the ticket price of twenty-five cents, stating that all proceeds would benefit the winner’s charity of choice, the Children’s Hospital or the Women’s Club Auxiliary.
As the team ambled back to the field, Winnie stepped closer to Beck. “These are wonderful. Thank you.” She traded her worn cap for the team cap. “How does it look?”
“Fine.” He didn’t look at her.
He must be terribly busy, after the fire. He shouldn’t be here. Her hand landed lightly on his forearm. “Beck, if you need to get back to work, you must.”
“I will. Thanks for understanding. There’s a lot to be done today. And tomorrow.” His gaze met hers at last, his expression stony. “And after that, Winnie. I can no longer coach the Liberty Belles.”
“What?” Winnie’s jaw gaped, but Beck couldn’t be moved by the shock and hurt blanching her face. He had to stay firm.
“I can’t coach the team anymore.” His arm went cold when her hand fell from it. “I’m sorry, but the fire reminded me how much I have to attend to at Emerson Works.”
Her head dipped. “I never meant to take away from your business.”
This wasn’t just about Emerson Works, though. It was about his traitorous heart. “You didn’t. I just … need to focus on things I can control.”
“Papa said a spark flew where it shouldn’t have. You couldn’t have controlled that. We can be cautious and things still go wrong.”
“I’m a perfect example of that.” He pointed to his arm. “I was shot by a fellow in my own regiment when a skirmish broke out. I thought one of my friends fell into me, until I landed in the dust and couldn’t get up again.”
“Oh, Beck.”
“The corps medical director stemmed the hemorrhage and I was taken to a field hospital. They closed the wound and told me if I didn’t succumb to infection that my arm might come back to life. But it hasn’t.”
“You lived, though. That’s all that mattered to the people who love you.”
One would think so. “My sweetheart pitied me, but she couldn’t quite hide her revulsion. I was still her beau when she made her debut that spring, but a few days later she said she needed time. Not much, as it turned out. She married someone with two working arms before we were Lulu’s age.”
“Jocelyn Jones.”
“How’d you guess that?”
“You and Paulette both mentioned knowing each other in your youth, and then Lulu all but confirmed them last night.” Winnie looked at her toes. “I’m sorry you’re still hurt over her.”
“I’m not, but I learned that while some problems can’t be avoided, I was going to be as careful as I could be in every other aspect of my life, to avoid another … loss.”
His gaze fixed on Lulu, who modeled her cap for a giggling Gladys. Winnie sighed. “Like your expectation that Alonzo will break Lulu’s heart? I know she’s young, but she’s willing to wait to wed, she told me. So is Alonzo.”
That wasn’t the point. “She’s going to get hurt. That’s one problem I don’t want her to have.”
“Love isn’t a problem to avoid.”
But it was. He had almost succumbed to romance last night—the glass pavilion, the lights, the music, holding Winnie close. He let himself feel everything he’d held at bay, and he’d been about to ask Winnie outdoors to view the lights with him. It was the first time he’d have taken an emotional risk since Jocelyn abandoned him, and although the events weren’t correlated, he’d been about to pin his heart to his sleeve when he learned his business had almost burned down. It was a firm reminder that love came with pain, every single time.
Of Rags and Riches Romance Collection Page 12