By the top of the ninth inning, the crowd was so loud and exuberant that everyone’s nerves ran high, but in a good way like nothing Winnie had ever experienced before. The cheers resounding through the ball field seemed to feed her ability to pitch, to hit, to run. And oh, did the Liberty Belles hit and run.
Nora’s jacket was caked in dirt from sliding headfirst into bases. Rowena’s hem tore from all the lunges she executed to tag out the Patriots, and Dru’s brown curls frizzed out the back of her cap from her similar efforts at home plate. Sweat ran like tears down Colleen’s cheeks, and sweet, quiet Fannie argued with the judge that she was safe after sliding into home. Gladys hit two home runs and her mad dashes around the bases left her face red as a boiled lobster. Lulu took a tumble in center field that left her limping—but she’d caught the ball.
Winnie’s shoulder ached, but she didn’t care. They were not playing it safe, and they’d managed to score seven runs to the Patriots’ six.
Winnie scratched the soil in the pitcher’s box with her boot, a habit that enabled her to peek at the loaded bases out of the corners of her eyes. If the Patriots scored a run—or four—now, the Liberty Belles would have the rest of the inning to attempt to change the score.
But if Winnie struck out Paulette right now, with two outs against the Patriots, the Liberty Belles would win.
Winnie glanced at Beck. His hand rested on Ralph’s shoulder as they watched, too tense to sit on the bench. Beck’s jaw was set, but the corner of his mouth lifted in a twitch. It was as if his body told her to win and have fun at the same time, two opposing messages.
Paulette’s smug smile sent Winnie an altogether different message, one that made Winnie’s blood pound in her ears. She threw the ball. Hard.
Paulette swung and missed, just as Winnie had hoped, but the victory felt hollow when the judge yelled “Strrrrike!” Because she was angry at Paulette, unforgiving and oh, whatever this feeling was in her chest that made her want to protect Beck like a mother lion defending her cub, Winnie’s throw hadn’t been controlled, and Paulette might have hit it out of the field, enabling her teammates to score.
Some risks were worth taking. This one might not be.
Lord, help me want to forgive her. I know I’ve asked countless times, but now that she’s in front of me, I—
Paulette’s boots shuffled, a nervous gesture. Suddenly Winnie’s emotions shifted. Paulette was a person with weaknesses and hopes. Winnie wasn’t certain she’d forgiven her, just like that, but she wasn’t angry anymore.
Her second pitch reflected it. It was well aimed but too fast for Paulette to hit.
“Strrrike two!” The judge bounced on his toes.
Paulette pinked.
The crowd cheered, feet stomped, and her teammates hollered, but she heard one deep voice above all others. “That’s right, Winnie!”
She glanced at Beck, whose wide grin made her chest expand with love.
One last pitch—in the game, and in her career as a baseball player. Thank You, Lord, for the opportunity to play today.
Winnie threw the ball.
Paulette swung.
And missed.
“Strrrike three! Yer out, missy!”
The crowd was silent for half a second, and then cheers erupted throughout the field. With a score of 7 to 6, there was no need to play the second half of the inning. The Liberty Belles had won.
The team embraced in a large huddle near third base, Ralph at their center, and then broke to hug Beck with words of thanks.
Winnie held back, shy, but before she could take her turn hugging Beck, the Patriots arrived to shake hands. Winnie took Paulette’s hand. “Good game. You’re a terrific pitcher.”
Paulette grunted.
Stifling a laugh, Winnie turned back to her team. The field manager stood in their midst, calling for silence. “I’ve informed both charities represented today that Beckett Emerson of Emerson Works will match the game proceeds, so the Children’s Hospital and the Women’s Club Auxiliary will both receive donations.”
All eyes went wide, except for Lulu’s. “I have an announcement, too. Before the game, Beck gave his blessing. In a year, Alonzo and I will be married.”
Winnie cheered. Congratulations and kisses followed, and soon the families ambled onto the field, including Papa. Gathering her courage, Winnie met him halfway.
“Exciting game, Winifred.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Papa.” She prayed for words. “I have something important to tell you, something I should have told you from the start. I know you want me to marry Victor, but I don’t care for him.”
“I have eyes, daughter. I can see where your affections lie, and fear not, I approve.”
He did? There was nothing to approve of, though. Beck didn’t want her. “I’m not disappointing you?”
“Oh, ’twas an old man’s folly, thinking I could keep the business in the family, seeing you safe and cared for.”
“God will manage that some other way.”
“I suppose you’re right.” His eyes narrowed at something over her shoulder. “It seems Victor has other plans, anyway.”
Winnie spun. Gladys clung to Victor’s arm, and they stared at her and Papa with guilty expressions.
Bustling toward them, Victor frowned. “Gladys and I are courting. I hope you aren’t upset.”
“No, I just … Not at all.” Winnie saw now that he would have made some sort of overture long ago, had he intended to court her. “When did this happen?” Gladys had been asking Beck for all those batting lessons.
Gladys beamed. “I met Victor at your house, and I didn’t want to look like an idiot when he saw me at the game, so I asked Beck for help. I’m glad I did, because I hit well today.”
“I’m truly happy for you both.”
She meant it.
They strolled away, as did Papa, leaving a clear path between Winnie and Beck. He didn’t smile, but his eyes were soft as he strode toward her, only to be intercepted by Dru and Xavier. “Coming to the fireworks at Independence Hall, you two?”
Winnie nodded. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Beck nodded. “We’ll find you there.”
We?
Beck smiled. “I asked your father if I could accompany you two to view the fireworks tonight. Well, me, Lulu, and Alonzo. If you don’t mind too much.”
“I don’t mind.” A grand understatement.
With a flash of his handsome smile, Beck bid them all farewell and met his friend Gilby by the entrance, all calm and normal. But Winnie’s heart was beating so fast, it was a wonder it didn’t puncture through her ribcage.
After a bath and an early supper with Papa, Winnie donned a patriotic blue ensemble. True to his word, Beck arrived at dusk, hat in hand. Alonzo and Lulu waited in the carriage, and after a lively ride spent discussing the baseball game, their little party arrived at Independence Hall to find a huge throng already gathered. Torches illuminated the dimming sky, and a brass band performed patriotic tunes.
It was indescribable, being in this place one hundred years after the Declaration of Independence was signed. Winnie gave thanks for her country as they found a viewing area, but before they could get comfortable, Beck turned to Papa. “May I borrow Winnie for a moment?”
“I think you’ll need more than one, lad.” Papa grinned.
Beck offered his arm. When Winnie took it, her hand fit just right in the crook of his elbow, even if her limbs trembled a little. What would Beck say, now that they were alone?
He led her through the crowd. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
“Thanks for inviting me. I didn’t like how we parted. Is everything well at Emerson Works?”
“How kind of you to ask. Yes, my employees and my equipment are safe.”
“Taking precautions paid off.”
“Not where you’re concerned.” He smiled at the confused expression that must be contorting her face, despite her trying to hide her response. “I was upset after the fire—with myself, not you. I’m sorry I took it out on you. I had a lot of thinking to do, because you challenged me. But you were right. I’ve missed a lot, holed up in my office and fretting over possible troubles. You reminded me that while the world may not be the safest of places all the time, it’s also beautiful.”
“Precautions are wise, though. You showed me I need to take more. Pretending trouble doesn’t exist is inconsiderate.”
“There will always be trouble. Didn’t Jesus say that? But you make my troubles lighter.”
“I do?”
“I want to do the same for you.” His deep voice softened. “I love you, Winifred Myles. So much that it terrifies me. But you’re worth the risk.”
“So are you.” She swallowed hard. “I love you too, Beckett Emerson.”
Overhead, a large firework boomed, followed by a blast of golden light and a shower of sparks, but the glory of it couldn’t compare to the look of adoration on Beck’s face as he bent his head and lowered his lips to hers. His kiss was gentle but full of promise.
Her arms clasped about his broad shoulders, holding tight to him and what he offered. His heart. His love.
There, under the shower of a thousand sparks of light and the songs of celebration, Winnie knew love.
She might be a good pitcher, but this was one thing she would never toss away.