In Every Heartbeat Part 8

Roy jumped up and down and screamed, "The ball! Get the ball!"

But the man stood there, mouth open, and watched Pete chug along, now midway between second and third. Roy took off running for the outfield. He pushed the fielder out of his way and retrieved the ball, but by the time he gave it a heave toward home, Pete was only a few feet from home plate. Pete's peg leg thudded on the plate a few seconds ahead of the ball. The catcher didn't even try to snag it-just stood grinning at Pete and shaking his head.

"Two to two!" Bennett grabbed Pete around the middle and lifted him in the air. "Two to two, Pete! We're tied! We're tied! And we've still got one more out to go!" Their teammates raced forward, surrounding them. Everyone patted Pete's back, congratulating him.

The umpire shooed them away from home plate. "Get your next batter up here. Game's not over yet."

Roy stomped around, smacking his players on the arm and bringing everyone under control. Then he stormed to the pitcher's mound. A furious gleam lit his eyes.

Bennett, gesturing toward Roy, whistled through his teeth. "I don't envy the poor sap who bats next. Roy's out for blood. Who's up, Ted?"

Ted pointed at a skinny, pimple-faced youth named Parker Potts. "Him."

Bennett stifled a groan. The young man didn't look strong enough to heft a bat, let alone swing it. But Bennett grinned and threw his arm around Potts's shoulders. "Get on up there. Doesn't even matter if you strike out. Game's gonna end at three innings no matter the score, just like we agreed, and we're already tied. So they can't say they skunked us. That's all that matters. So swing away, Parker-swing away!"

Parker took Bennett at his word and swung away, missing the ball three times in a row and bringing the game to an end. Bennett turned, expecting his teammates to congratulate him for bringing Pete into the game, but to his surprise, everyone crowded around Pete instead. The Delta Tau Delta men, half of the Beta Theta Pi team, and at least a dozen spectators surrounded him, asking how he learned to pitch like that. Didn't it hurt to run on his peg leg? If they got a game together next Sat.u.r.day, would he be able to pitch for them?

Bennett stood back, his jaw slack, while Pete received the attention and Bennett was ignored. He spun around in disgust and came nose to nose with Roy, who scowled into his face.

"Think you're pretty smart, turnin' that cripple into a hero?" Roy hissed the words, his voice raised only enough to reach Bennett's ears. "Well, I saw the pledge list. Saw your name-and his." Roy sent a disparaging look past Bennett in Pete's direction. "As president of Beta Theta Pi, I I decide who pledges and who doesn't. And if you think you're gonna sneak into my fraternity, you better think again." decide who pledges and who doesn't. And if you think you're gonna sneak into my fraternity, you better think again."

Roy stalked off, waving his hand as a silent command for his teammates to follow. Most of them scuttled after him, but three stayed behind, worming their way in front of the Delta Tau Delta men. They leaned in close to Pete, gesturing and talking excitedly.

Bennett propped one fist on his hip, shaking his head in disgust. He'd carefully plotted to bring Pete into the group, but he hadn't antic.i.p.ated being b.u.mped by him! Exactly how had the tables been turned? He yanked the hat from his head and smacked his leg.

"Bennett?"

The puzzled female voice came from behind Bennett. He turned and found Alice-Marie watching him, her head tipped to the side. She held a small pink parasol over her head, the ruffled brim shading her face from the sun. Even so, her nose glistened with perspiration, and curls stuck to her forehead and cheeks. He grunted, "Yeah?"

Her rosy lips formed a pout. "My, you're so grumpy. And after such an incredible display of athletic prowess. Why, do you realize you were competing with some of the school's very finest athletes? And you met them run for run." She shook her finger at him. "I would never have taken you for a sore winner."

Bennett heaved a sigh. "I'm not sure I won anything today, Alice-Marie."

She glided forward two steps, bringing her skirts into contact with his pant leg. She smiled, twirling the little parasol. "The day isn't over yet . . ."

Only a fool would have missed the implication, and Bennett was no fool. But for once, he wasn't in the mood for flirtation. There were bigger battles to be won-namely, finding a way to get in to the most prestigious fraternity on campus. He stepped away from Alice-Marie. "I'm hot and tired. I'm gonna go to my room and cool off."

She gave the gra.s.s a stomp. "Bennett Martin, I never would have guessed you'd be as ill-tempered as my buffoon cousin. Why, Mother says we shouldn't even claim that part of the family-they all behave like such bohemians."

How did Libby tolerate this girl's senseless prattle? "What are you talking about?"

"He's always been insufferable. He simply can't bear to be bested in anything-not even a simple game of checkers! So I wasn't at all surprised to see him stomp away like a spoiled little brat. But I expected you to-"

Bennett caught Alice-Marie's hand. "Roy's your cousin?"

She huffed. "Isn't that what I just said? On my father's side, second cousin twice removed. Or something equally ridiculous. But it doesn't matter. I don't care for his boorish behavior, and right now I certainly don't care for yours! So-"

"I'm sorry."

She stopped and gave him a skeptical look.

He ducked his head and peeked at her, attempting to appear sheepish. "I'm hot and tired, and you're right-I got cranky. It won't happen again."

"Well . . ." Alice-Marie swayed slightly, making her skirts dance. "I suppose I understand, seeing as how you've been playing hard under the hot sun. But"-once again, she pointed her finger at him-"don't expect me to always be so forgiving. I don't care for being barked at."

Bennett held up his hand, as if making a pledge. "No more barking." He offered an impish grin, and Alice-Marie giggled. "Now . . . I do need to cool off, so how about you and me walking to town for a dish of ice cream or a soda?"

Alice-Marie's eyes flew wide. "On Sunday? The drugstore won't be open."

Bennett groaned. His parched throat begged for something cold. "Well then, the dining hall. They've always got the lemonade crock ready." She still seemed uncertain, so he added, "After that, maybe we could take a walk . . . get to know each other better?" He tipped his head, offering another grin.

Finally she laughed and waved her hand at him. "Lemonade does sound wonderful after sitting in the sun."

He offered his elbow, and she took it. He curled his hand over hers and turned her toward the dining hall. "Now, Miss Alice-Marie, I want to hear all about your family. Let's start with your father's side-second cousin, twice-removed. . . ."

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There were times, during the week following the baseball game, Bennett actually wanted to punch his best friend in the nose. But he didn't. Deep down, he knew it wasn't Pete's fault that everyone was suddenly enamored with him. But Bennett couldn't help but be jealous. His plan to establish himself as an important man on campus by besting Roy and his buddies had only succeeded in turning Pete into the campus hero. "Peg leg Pete" they called him-and without an ounce of hostility or sarcasm.

Everywhere Bennett went-in the dining hall, in the cla.s.srooms, out in the courtyards-Pete's name came up. He supposed, seeing as how he was Pete's buddy, the others a.s.sumed he wanted to hear them sing Pete's praise. But they were wrong. By the end of cla.s.ses on Thursday, Bennett was ready to escape. So when he charged out of the engineering building and spotted Alice-Marie on the lawn with a couple of other girls, he trotted over and slipped his arm around her waist.

"Hey, sugar. You done with cla.s.ses for today?"

The other two girls giggled and ducked their heads, sending moon-eyed glances at Bennett through their lashes. At least the ladies still seemed to fancy him. That was flattering, but it could end up bringing resentment from some of the fellas. He needed to watch himself. Except with Alice-Marie. She had the potential for getting him in with the Beta Theta Pi crowd.

Alice-Marie flashed a haughty grin at her friends. "Why yes, I am finished for the day." She fluttered her lashes.

"Good." He patted his pocket, where coins won in a c.r.a.pshoot behind the dormitory a couple of nights ago jingled. "We never got that soda on Sunday-let's get one now."

She crinkled her nose. "But it's nearly dinnertime. Won't a soda spoil your appet.i.te? Perhaps we should wait until after we've visited the dining hall."

Bennett had no desire to enter the dining hall and listen to another round of Pete-praise. Besides, he didn't care for Alice-Marie acting like she was his mother. He almost told her to forget it, he'd just go on his own, but he remembered in time that he might need his relationship with her to ensure a spot on the pledge list for the Betas. According to Chester, Roy hadn't scratched it off yet, but that could change.

He forced a grin. "Aw, c'mon, sugar. The drugstore sells other stuff, too. I'll even buy you a frankfurter-two, if you're really hungry. That'll be dinner."

The other girls giggled again, and Bennett was certain if he asked either of them to eat a frankfurter with him, they'd jump at the chance. Alice-Marie initially grimaced, but when she saw her friends' reaction, she tipped her head and offered a coy smile. "Very well, Bennett, tonight we shall feast on greasy frankfurters with mustard and onions."

He didn't miss the touch of sarcasm, but he chose to ignore it. "Good." He grabbed her hand and tugged. "Let's go."

"My books!" she cried, attempting to pull loose.

He groaned and turned to the other girls. "Would one of you take Alice-Marie's books to her room for her?"

Both girls immediately reached for the books. Alice-Marie plunked the stack into the closest pair of hands and then laughingly turned to Bennett. "My, you are eager!"

He didn't bother with a reply, just grabbed her hand again and took off at a trot. She caught her skirts with her free hand and trotted alongside him. When they reached the street, Alice-Marie gasped out, "Please, Bennett! Can't we walk walk?"

Bennett obliged, but he made no effort to shorten his wide strides, forcing Alice-Marie to take two steps to his every one. She panted beside him, one strand of hair trailing down her cheek. At least the pace prevented her from talking. Bennett had never met a more yakky girl.

When they reached the drugstore, he remembered his manners in time and opened the door for her. She nearly fell through the opening. Fanning herself with both hands, she sagged into the nearest booth and stared up him with her mouth slightly open.

"Gracious, Bennett, after that rigorous walk, I shall require a long rest."

"Suits me." Bennett pointed to the counter, where two businessmen and one young boy sat on stools. "So . . . one frankfurter or two?"

Wearily, she lifted one finger. "And a cherry phosphate, please."

As he stepped up to the counter to order, the cowbell above the drugstore door clanged, and two young men sauntered into the store. Bennett recognized them from the campus. He gave a nod of greeting, which both returned, and then they plopped into the booth directly behind Alice-Marie. Bennett idly counted his money, waiting for the soda jerk to take his order, and the voices of the pair in the booth carried to Bennett's ears.

"You think they'll get another game going this coming Sunday? I wouldn't mind playing this time."

"Me neither, as long as I don't have to hit against Roy or that other guy-you know, Peg leg Pete."

The first man laughed. "Yeah, never saw a straighter pitch- and fast! Why, you hardly saw the ball go, it went so fast! I think he's even better than Roy. . . ."

Not even here could Bennett escape having to listen to Pete's amazing abilities extolled. Slapping the counter, he spun toward Alice-Marie. He grabbed her arm and pulled her from the booth. "Let's go."

"Bennett!" She jerked her arm loose, a scowl marring her face. "Kindly do not be so rough!" She rubbed her arm. "I thought you wanted a frankfurter."

"Changed my mind is all. Why pay for dinner when we eat free at the dining hall?"

She huffed. "Isn't that what I said before we came?"

The two young men in the booth leaned around the tall wooden back to grin at Bennett and Alice-Marie. One of them muttered, "Must be a lovers' spat."

Bennett started to reach for Alice-Marie's arm again, but she flinched away. Remorse smacked him. He leaned close and whispered, "Did I really hurt you?"

Tears shimmered in her blue eyes. Her chin quivered.

"I'm sorry, Alice-Marie. I didn't mean to-honest. I just . . ." But he couldn't complete the sentence. He had no excuse for taking his frustration out on her. With a sigh, he repeated himself. "I'm really sorry. Let me walk you back to the dining hall. I'll go slow this time."

After a few moments of hesitation, she gave a slight nod. He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her out of the drugstore. They walked in silence to the campus, and after he escorted her to the dining hall, he jogged to Franklin Hall and flopped onto his bed. He couldn't ever recall deliberately skipping a meal, but he had no appet.i.te tonight.

Who would've thought he'd be eager to return to Shay's Ford? At least n.o.body there had seen that stupid baseball game. Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Look, Petey, Bennett!" Libby pointed out the window as the train chugged slowly toward the small depot on the outskirts of Shay's Ford. "They've all come to meet us. There's Maelle and Jackson, Matt and Lorna, Mr. and Mrs. Rowley and their children . . . even Cookie Ramona!" She squealed and clapped her hands. "Oh, what a wonderful surprise to have them all waiting!"

Petey pressed his face to the window and waved, but Bennett remained slouched in his seat, a surly expression on his face. Libby poked him on the shoulder. "Sit up, Bennett. Don't you want to wave to our welcoming party?"

He grunted and turned his face away. "They aren't out there to welcome me." He mumbled something else, but Libby didn't catch it.

She clicked her tongue on her teeth. "Bennett, you've been grouchier than a sleep-starved bear. Can't you improve your att.i.tude? We're here for a wedding."

Bennett didn't even glance at her.

The train screeched to a stop, and Libby dashed for the platform, calling over her shoulder, "Would you be a dear and get my bag, Petey? Thank you!" Without waiting for a reply, she bounded off the platform and ran straight for Maelle. She threw herself into Maelle's open arms, laughter trickling from her throat. "Oh, it's so good to be home!"

After receiving a tight squeeze from Maelle, she hugged everyone by turn. By the time she returned to Maelle for a second hug, both Bennett and Petey were off the train with the luggage. Mr. and Mrs. Rowley flanked Petey, who held the Rowleys' one-year-old son, Reggie, while their daughters, five-year-old Constance and eight-year-old Rebecca, circled his waist with their arms. Cookie Ramona held Bennett in her embrace. Libby giggled at the sight of the gray-haired cook rocking Bennett from side-to-side as a mother might rock her infant. Bennett, with his enjoyment of eating, had always been Cookie's favorite.

"I can't believe all of you came." Libby's gaze bounced down the line of smiling faces. "Who's at home with the schoolchildren?"

Mr. Rowley chuckled, taking Reggie from Petey's arms. "Clancy." He referred to the grizzled ranch hand who oversaw the sheep on Jackson's family's ranch. "Who else could single-handedly corral twenty-two children?"

"He's more than reliable. But even so," Mrs. Rowley said, "we shouldn't impose upon him indefinitely. Now that our college students are home"-pride beamed from her emerald eyes-"we should head back. Come along." She took Rebecca by the hand and led the group toward the orphan school's old familiar wagon, which waited in a slash of shade beside the depot.

How many times had Libby ridden in the bed of that wagon on a mound of p.r.i.c.kly hay, heading to Sat.u.r.day shopping excursions or Sunday church services? A feeling of security wrapped itself around her when she spotted the worn high-sided wagon, and her feet sped on their own volition the final yards. Turning backward, she braced her palms on the edge of the bed and prepared to heave herself into the back. However, Maelle caught her arm and stopped her.

"Jackson and I wondered if you'd like to spend the weekend with us." Maelle flicked a smiling glance at her sister. "Isabelle has already given permission, but if you'd rather go out to the school, you won't hurt our feelings. Either way, we'll see you tomorrow for Mattie's wedding and again Sunday in church."

Libby crinkled her nose and considered what would be best. She had intended to help Mrs. Rowley set up for the wedding, but how could she refuse the opportunity to spend extra time with Maelle? She looked at Mrs. Rowley. "Are you sure you don't mind? You won't need my help this evening?"

Mrs. Rowley offered a smile. "There are plenty of hands at home, and now that Bennett and Pete are here, they can help, too. You go on with Maelle, if you'd like. I know you two enjoy your time together."

"Thank you!" Libby took her bag from Petey, and Jackson immediately plucked it from her hand. She grinned at him and then turned to the others. "Bye, everyone! I'll see you tomorrow for the wedding!" As a chorus of farewells came in reply, Libby linked arms with Maelle. "I'm all yours."

As they walked across town to Maelle and Jackson's pleasant home in the center of the town's residential district, Maelle plied Libby with questions about school. Libby told her about her cla.s.ses, about Alice-Marie and the other girls in the women's dormitory, about the articles she'd written for the school's newspapers, and even about Roy. But she didn't mention the romance stories she'd written-and the second one she'd sold just that week-even though she longed to. The news was too special to blurt out in the midst of other things. When she and Maelle had a private moment, then she would share about her upcoming publishing credits.

When they reached the white-painted picket fence that surrounded Maelle and Jackson's bungalow, Libby came to a halt at the gate. She rested her fingertips on the pointed tips of the pickets and let her gaze drift across the wraparound porch generously bedecked with white-and-green painted gingerbread. The front door with its oval leaded-gla.s.s window stood slightly ajar, as if inviting her to enter.

Although she'd never lived in the house, she'd spent many weekends there with Maelle prior to Jackson's return from serving time in the Missouri legislature, and then, less frequently, with both Maelle and Jackson after their wedding. In her daydreams, she'd imagined coming home to this very house, with Maelle waiting on the porch, smiling the way mothers did when their children returned. She closed her eyes and allowed the childish daydream to briefly surface.

Turning to Maelle, she clasped her hands beneath her chin. "May we have lemonade and cookies out on the porch swing like we did for my eleventh birthday? Do you remember?"

Maelle chuckled. "How could I forget? You ended up with crumbs smeared across your face and lemonade splotches on the new ap.r.o.n Isabelle had sewn for you . . . and I took your photograph anyway. It's still one of my favorites."

Jackson swung the gate open. "I'll put Libby's bag in the guest room. There aren't any cookies in the house, but we do have some lemons. I'll mix up a pitcher of lemonade and bring it out to you. You ladies enjoy a few minutes of being lazy."

"Thank you," Libby and Maelle chorused.

They ambled arm in arm up the rock-paved sidewalk and perched on the hanging swing in the back corner of the porch. Libby wriggled into the seat, smiling when the chains squeaked, just as they always had. She released a sigh of contentment. She loved this porch and its white wicker swing. Shielded by ma.s.sive spirea bushes, the corner was always shaded, so it was the perfect spot on a hot summer afternoon.

As a youngster, she'd pretended this part of the porch was a hideaway. In some ways, coming to this house had been her way of hiding from the reality of being orphaned. Countless times, she'd leaned over the porch railing as evening fell, watching the sky for the first glittering star. The moment one appeared, she'd throw out her dearest wish: Let Maelle be my mother. Let Maelle be my mother.

Maelle interrupted Libby's reflections with a light pat on her knee. "I gather from everything you said on the walk over that you're glad you decided to stay and be a college student."

Libby nodded. "Yes. You and Jackson were right. I like it very much-more than I even imagined." A light breeze whisked around the corner and tossed a few curls of hair over her shoulder. She ran her fingers through the tangled locks. "Sometimes I grow frustrated, though. I want to learn the craft of writing faster so I can do more and more. I'm already weary of being a.s.signed to write silly articles about cla.s.s schedule issues and whether or not the dining hall should provide three different meats at dinner instead of two." She wrinkled her nose, recalling some of her least favorite topics from cla.s.s. "It's all so unimportant!"

"Not at all, Libby," Maelle countered. "In everything of life, we have to start at the beginning. You wouldn't put a newborn on his feet and tell him to run, would you?"

Libby laughed at the idea.