A week of baseball practices, visits to the hospital, and household matters didn’t leave much time for a dress fitting for the Centennial charity ball. Tonight, however, standing before the looking glass in her bedchamber, Winnie was glad she’d kept the appointment.
The bright blue faille suited her coloring, as did the gown’s cut, with its square neck and narrow skirt. Trimmed with chenille scarlet poppies, the gown’s colors reflected the spirit of 1776. Would Beck like it?
Her cold fingers pressed against her warm cheeks. It didn’t matter if Beck liked it or even noticed what she wore. She might be drawn to him, but he’d disappear from her life in just over a week after the game. He’d probably be relieved to no longer be coaching the Liberty Belles, so he could return his full attention to his business. Clearly he was busy, since his blond friend, Gilby Gresham, jaunted over to the practice field with files in hand for Beck’s perusal almost every day this week.
He’d been so busy, she hadn’t tried to be alone with him, much less sidle up to him. They’d had fun together in the park, but she shouldn’t read anything more into it.
“Ready, Winifred? Victor’s here.” Papa paused in the threshold.
She nodded, and in less than an hour, they arrived at the Exhibition grounds and the site of the charity ball: a specially constructed, wood-framed pavilion with walls fashioned of glass. Music and light spilled out the windows and open door, and in the twilight, the glass building seemed like something from a fairy tale.
“How delightful.” Winnie squeezed Papa’s arm.
“Almost as pretty as my daughter.”
“Flatterer.” But she was pleased by Papa’s kindness. Once inside, he excused himself to speak to friends, leaving her and Victor to saunter into the main room, where gold upholstered seats surrounded a dance floor. A gilt screen hid musicians—a string quartet, by Winnie’s guess. Many of Philadelphia’s elite wandered past, and Winnie nodded hello to several acquaintances. Then she grinned.
Lulu paused in the threshold in a vision of pink, dazzling at her first ball, but it was the gentleman beside her who stole Winnie’s breath. Beck, dashing in white tie and a black coat, stared at her, a tiny smile pulling at his lips.
“He’s smitten, you know.”
“What?” Winnie startled, her gaze tearing from Beck’s.
“Emerson.” Victor gestured to where Beck and Lulu now engaged in a conversation with the local congressman. “He has eyes for you.”
“He’s simply my coach.”
“If you say so, but I don’t think you’re immune to him, either.”
She almost denied it, but the lie stopped at the fence of her teeth. She was still sorting her feelings when Lulu found her later. “Beck is talking safety regulations with politicians—he thinks there should be laws protecting workplace safety—and I add nothing to the conversation, so I hope you do not mind my company. Actually, that’s not true. I must speak to you.”
About Beck? Winnie’s muscles seized. Were her emotions that obvious? “Of course.”
“’Tis about Alonzo.”
Winnie almost smiled in relief, but Lulu’s frown stifled it in a heartbeat. “Did he hurt you?”
“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 the 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.”