Promise Forged, page 9
“Maybe.” Ed launched forward on the edge of his seat. “Put together a plan, and see if the players will agree.”
“Done.”
“And get me some articles I can use. More like those features on Faye and Katherine Miller. Readers ate those up.”
Jack nodded. What else could he do? “I’ve got a few ideas from this last trip. Some day-in-the-life kind of things.”
“I don’t care what they are as long as they get people to the games. Get out of here.”
“Yes, sir.” Jack stood as Ed held his nose and picked up the bubbly drink. “Bottoms up.”
Jack glanced at his watch and hustled to his desk. If he hurried, he could still make it to the USO dance. First he had to write the articles filling his mind.
❧
“Can I come in?” Victoria, the Harrisons’ eight-year-old, waltzed into the room without waiting for an answer.
Kat turned from her vanity with a smile, amazed at how the child had grown on her since her arrival. “Whatcha up to, kiddo?”
Victoria rocked her foot back and forth, as if drawing a picture in a sand dune with her toes. “I wondered. Can I come with you tonight? To the dance?”
Kat bit her tongue to keep from laughing. “That would be fun, wouldn’t it? I’m not much of a dancer. I bet you’re better than me. But you’re not old enough.”
“I’ll never be old enough to do anything.” The child planted her hands on her hips, a perfect mirror for her mother’s frustrated stance.
“I’m sorry. How about a special outing on my next free day? Just you and me.”
“Really?” Victoria shrieked. “Get an ice cream. Maybe see a movie?”
“Victoria Rose Harrison. You do not invite yourself into Katherine’s life. She’s plenty busy without spending time with you.” Mrs. Harrison sighed, an apology in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t mind. Victoria is a delight.”
The little girl stood straighter at the words. “See, Mama. She likes me.” She skipped from the room, humming a tune.
“I appreciate the ways you help. Please don’t feel obligated.”
“I don’t mind.” Kat looked into the mirror, patted her cheeks, and frowned at the multiplying field of freckles. “Well, nothing I can do about these dots.”
“No one notices them. Trust me. If they do, it’s only because they enhance your looks.”
“Yeah, the perpetually cute one.”
Mrs. Harrison laughed, and the lines around her eyes eased. “You have plenty of time to find the man who captures your imagination. When you find him, you’ll never let him go. Just look at us. When I met Wayne ten years ago, I never imagined I’d leave my home state or have four children in such short order.” She turned to leave. “I’ll leave you to your preparations.”
“Do you ever regret it?”
“Regret what?” Mrs. Harrison leaned down to pick up Eric, their youngest.
Kat searched for the right words. “Regret getting married young? Following your husband to a new place?”
“No. It’s challenged me at times, but that’s okay.” Eric whimpered, and she jostled him on her hip. “You need to finish dressing. Wear your emerald dress. I’ll prepare a snack for you in the kitchen.”
Kat turned back to the mirror. Her slip felt silky against her skin, a forgotten feeling after weeks of softball uniforms. She painted her legs with the leg cream—a necessity since hose had become impossible to find with rationing—then examined them. Almost as good as hose, though she doubted even that could cover all the bruises. She powdered then slipped on the emerald dress. Its simple lines settled over her as if it had been tailored for her, and the color brought extra attention to her eyes. The length of the dress didn’t hurt anything either. She applied lipstick but avoided the other cosmetics. Even after the charm lessons she didn’t feel comfortable using many of them. The sailors wouldn’t care. She grabbed her purse and slipped from her room. After retrieving her snack from the kitchen, Kat went to the front porch. The shade kept the temperature bearable as she waited for her ride.
After a few minutes a car pulled up to the curb. Faye hopped out, beautiful in a navy dress with a gossamer scarf floating around her shoulders. “Ready, Kat?”
“Yes.” Her voice quavered on the word. Why did this feel so important? She’d grown up around Mark’s friends. But that had been in comfortable surroundings with no pressure. Tonight felt different.
Rosie and Lola waited in the car. Kat tried to stifle her reaction to Lola’s shocking, heavy makeup.
Lola smacked her gum and examined Kat. “I guess I was wrong. You actually are coming. You’ll have a good time with the boys.”
Kat hoped so but had doubts. She couldn’t be further out of her league if she tried. She almost said something then decided Lola wouldn’t understand that she wanted a man who understood how to promise her forever.
Eleven
A swing band played radio favorites from a dais at the front of the room. The packed bodies had heated the ballroom long before Jack waltzed into the room. He tugged down his sleeve cuffs and entered the fray. He didn’t care about the crush, the sailor and military uniforms mixing with a sea of colorful dresses. He wanted to find one person.
See if Miss Katherine Miller relaxed in an environment like this.
It had to be a far cry from the high school dances she might have attended in Dayton. He doubted she’d done that. She seemed the type to alternate between studying, playing ball, and drills.
But even Katherine needed an opportunity to relax, let down her hair, enjoy the moment.
As long as he shared the moment. The guys outnumbered the gals two to one, leaving a tight sensation in his gut—something he’d never experienced with Polly. Jack didn’t want to imagine any number of these men pawing Kat. Would she even know what to do? Playing with guys on the field was different from this scene. She needed someone to step in and protect her. Whether she knew it or not.
He scanned the room, looking for the spitfire. She stood against a wall, surrounded by sailors. Although the lines of her body suggested she was relaxed and enjoying the attention, Jack detected a small furrow between her eyes, the one that only appeared when she felt outmaneuvered. Faye danced by on the arm of a grunt, while Lola swayed entirely too close with an officer of some sort. It looked like GI Joes had grabbed all of Kat’s teammates, leaving her to fend for herself.
Would he be a hero or a dog if he stepped in and swept her onto the dance floor?
Her laugh, soft and hesitant, reached his ears. That settled it; he couldn’t leave her alone, not with those men.
Jack ambled toward the group, clearing his throat when he reached it. “Miss Miller, you look radiant tonight. You promised to save a spot for me on your dance card.”
A spark filled her eyes. “Why, Mr. Raymond, I wondered if you’d stood me up. I would like that dance very much.” She turned to the boys around her, a lilt in her voice as she played along. “If you’ll excuse me. I’ll look for you later.”
“If she has time.” Jack extended his hand and relaxed when her small hand slipped into his. How did she manage to snag so many balls with hands that delicate?
“You can’t keep her to yourself, bud.” A soldier thrust his chest out and took a step toward Jack.
“I hear you. We’ll leave it up to her.” He turned Kat toward the dance floor and away from the men.
“You are a welcome sight in this sea of strangers.” Kat edged closer to him as they squeezed through the crowd. “Could we go outside rather than dance?”
“Don’t you know how?” He’d meant it as a tease but, at her silence, realized she really might not have any moves. “Charleston? Jitterbug? Waltz?” She shook her head as he ticked through several additional styles of dancing. “Well, I’ll teach you at least the waltz. Everyone needs to dance a waltz or two at a wedding or anniversary celebration.”
As they talked, he eased her toward the door. He pushed through one side of the double-glass doors, breathing deeply of the fresh air that didn’t feel so stifling in comparison to the hall. Notes of a clarinet wailing a Tommy Dorsey tune filtered from an open window. Kat cocked her head as if wanting to absorb every note.
“Isn’t that beautiful?”
The saxophone shrieked a sour note, and Jack rubbed the back of his neck and winced. “If you like your beauty with a big side of melancholy and squeak.”
Kat laughed. “Thank you again for rescuing me.”
“My pleasure.” Jack studied her a moment, until he knew his only options were to turn away or kiss her. He turned.
Twilight shadowed the cityscape as he walked Kat toward his car. He leaned against it and studied the sky.
“What are you doing?” Her breath tickled his ear as she settled next to him.
He took a steadying breath, keeping his gaze locked on the sky. “Waiting for the first evening star.”
Silence followed, broken only by the rustle of leaves as the breeze brushed through the trees. Would she say anything? Most women fidgeted at the first moment of stillness. Yet Kat seemed to absorb the peace, unhurried.
Mercifully the song ended, and the band leader announced a break. The pop and hiss of a record took the place of the saxophone. As the easy three-four time of a waltz slipped through the open windows, Jack stood. “May I have this dance?”
Kat considered him, a slight tension squeezing her shoulders. After a moment she nodded her head and stood. He slipped his right hand around her waist, sensing the catch in Kat’s breathing as he did. He took her right hand in his left and eased into the three-step waltz. “One, two, three. One, two, three.” He crooned the words in time with the music. “Do you feel the rhythm?”
She nodded, and he looked down at her. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth, and her steps stuttered a half count behind each of his.
“One, two, three. One, two, three.” She’d settle down as she felt the music. Everyone did.
A tremor vibrated up Kat’s spine. Jack looked down at her again and slowed. “Are you okay, Kat?”
If she bit her lip any harder, blood would stain her glossed lips.
“Katherine Miller, are you out here?” Joanie’s high-pitched whine pierced the darkness. Kat jumped in his arms, putting space between them. “I see you, young lady. You’re here to dance with the boys, and certainly not alone with a man.”
She tugged her hand free and pushed away. “I–I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
Before he could say anything, probe for a reason beyond Joanie’s sudden appearance, Kat turned and fled into the building.
He took a deep breath, the warmth of her body lingering in the empty space.
Katherine Miller was nothing more than a child. Her flight proved that fact. Yet he had never felt the way he did about her. He wanted to prolong their interactions but had to admit it had nothing to do with the fact she served as the subject for his ongoing reports on the Blossoms.
No, it had everything to do with the fact Katherine Miller was a woman. She might not realize it yet, but everyone else did. And he couldn’t imagine watching her with anyone else.
❧
All week, softballs roiled in Kat’s stomach. She couldn’t seem to avoid Joanie’s censoring or Jack’s presence. When she’d headed outside with Jack, it had never occurred to her that Joanie would add it to her list of wrongs. Her request to step outside had seemed like a simple solution to avoiding Joanie. She couldn’t have been more wrong. And she was flummoxed about how to change Joanie’s view of her. Nothing wrong had happened with Jack.
Every time she caught Jack watching her, she flushed as hot as a Sunday afternoon at the hint of promise and desire in his eyes. That had never appeared in the eyes of any of the high school boys.
Maybe nothing had happened at the dance, but part of her wondered what might have if Joanie hadn’t appeared. All Jack had wanted to do was teach her to dance. So why had she felt so vulnerable through each word murmured in her ear and every second his hand touched her waist? She tried to tell herself Jack was simply another of Mark’s friends, but her heart refused to accept the words.
In the end, Addebary sent her to the all-star game over Joanie’s objections. Said it would be good for the team. But the uptight looks and cold shoulders her teammates sent her way left Kat wondering if the team wouldn’t be better served by Faye going to the game instead of her.
The calendar read July 1. Another hotel. Another day. Another city. This time Chicago.
Tonight she would play in Wrigley Field.
Kat rolled over then grimaced as she shifted across her latest strawberry. Just once, she wished she could slide into base without destroying her thigh. At this rate she’d have permanent black, purple, and yellow blotches long after the season ended.
An all-star. The idea seemed preposterous. So many Blossoms played as hard or better than she. But she’d been selected thanks to Jack’s articles that a wire service had picked up. She didn’t want to think popularity rather than skill had led to her selection, but. . . .
Come on, Kat. Just accept it as an honor and enjoy the experience. She could hear her mother’s advice as if the woman sat on the bed next to her. Sound advice, as always. Yet so hard to implement.
Whatever the reason she’d been chosen, she’d play shortstop for one of the teams. Maybe the stands would be full. Even if they weren’t, she’d still play in Wrigley Field, something girls simply didn’t do.
This was an honor. One she should enjoy to the maximum.
Soon enough the game would end, and tomorrow she’d rejoin her teammates in South Bend. Back to the grind of games, doubleheaders, travel, and more games. It might be July 1, but it felt like the season had already lasted much longer than one month.
Surely Jack hadn’t made the trip.
Her heart skipped at the thought.
It shouldn’t matter whether he had. She longed for one friendly face. One person to reassure her she belonged here. That it wasn’t a fluke her name made the list. A pain shot through her. She couldn’t look to Jack for those assurances.
Father, I’m sorry. I want You to be my source of security. I’ve done such a lousy job lately of keeping You in my thoughts. Tears pricked her eyes then slid down her cheeks. She swiped at them with the coarse comforter she had wrapped around herself. Be my security. Help me find my identity in You and not in those around me.
She wanted to be a light for Him but felt like such a failure. It seemed no matter how hard she tried, her efforts only made things worse.
Today she was Joanie-less, since a different chaperone had made the trip to Chicago. For today she didn’t have to worry about how her every action and intention might be misinterpreted. She should focus on that, enjoy the momentary freedom. And revel in why she was here.
Wrigley Field.
Kat glanced at the bedside alarm clock and jumped out of bed. If she didn’t hurry, she’d miss the press lunch. Then practice and the game. In no time the day would be behind her.
She pulled on her Blossoms uniform and hurried to the lobby. The concierge gave her directions to the luncheon. She thanked him and turned to leave. A familiar face peered at her over the top of a newspaper. Jack stood with a lazy smile and ambled over to her.
“Ready for the big day?”
Kat pressed a hand on her stomach. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be great.”
“The press will have me for lunch.”
“You’ll have them following you around like love-struck kids by the end of the hour.”
A shudder shook through her at the thought. “You mean they’ll all be like you?” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry.”
Jack grimaced then put an arm around her shoulders. “You might want to watch the comments like that. I understand that arrow, which pierced my poor, vulnerable heart.” She rolled her eyes, and he laughed. “But the press here in the Windy City is more. . .cut-throat. They’ll gladly take any information you give them and twist it.” He gestured like a knife had plunged into her heart.
“You certainly know how to encourage a person.” She slipped from his arm and put space between them. Jack kept pushing under her guard, something she couldn’t allow. At the end of the summer she had to go home and finish school, and he couldn’t be truly interested in a high school senior. Not when he could have any woman he wanted. Certainly any number of her teammates would take him on as a charity case.
And she still wasn’t sure about his faith. If he had ever had any, something had turned him highly cynical.
She couldn’t imagine sharing forever with someone who didn’t value his relationship with God as much as she valued hers.
Her breath caught in her chest.
Forever?
❧
Jack straightened his fedora and edged into the stands. Fans sat around Wrigley Field, but the stands weren’t full. He could stretch out and take a nap without fear of someone brushing by him. Still, there were more spectators than at any game he’d covered so far. The smell of hot, buttered popcorn made his stomach growl. He massaged his forehead, the remnants of last night’s outing with college buddies pulsing in his temples. His stomach might think it needed food, but he knew the first bite would have him running for the facilities.
A cheer erupted from the stands as the women streamed out of the dugouts. They wore standard skirts—white for one team and yellow for the other—but the blouses came from their regular team uniforms. They formed a sherbet-colored rainbow.
Real ballplayers didn’t wear pastels.
He must be hungover.
It had been awhile since he’d felt that way about the AAGPBL. He pulled a program out of his pocket. Kat’s friend Dolly had made the same all-star team. He imagined the two having a great time for the day they’d be together.
