Читать книгу The Calamity Janes - Sherryl Woods - Страница 10

Emma had expected to be on her way back to Denver first thing Sunday morning, but somehow Cassie and the others had persuaded her to stay over for a class picnic.

“We’re playing baseball. We need you,” Cassie had insisted.

It had been sometime after midnight, and Emma’s resistance had been low. After her conversation with Ford Hamilton about the lack of fulfillment in her life and Lauren’s suggestion that she was trying to prove something to her ex-husband, she hadn’t been looking forward to going back to Denver, anyway. It hadn’t taken a lot of persuasion to convince her to spend one more night in Winding River. The promise that she could manage her team had been the clincher.

The women were doing surprisingly well against the men, largely thanks to Lauren. She distracted the men so badly that they’d had only two hits in six innings. They were even less successful at fielding the hits made by the women. As a result, the women were winning two to nothing. Emma didn’t trust such a slim lead. She wanted more runs.

She glanced around in search of her star player. Emma finally spotted Lauren sitting in the shade, Ford Hamilton stretched out beside her, obviously hanging on her every word. Something that felt suspiciously like jealousy streaked through Emma at the sight of Lauren staring raptly at the charismatic journalist in his faded, formfitting jeans, sneakers and T-shirt.

Irritated by her reaction, Emma turned away, wiped the beads of sweat from her brow, glanced down at her lineup and realized that Lauren was next up to bat. How was Emma supposed to manage her team to a victory when her star player was more interested in a good-looking guy than she was in winning?

“Lauren, if it’s not too much trouble, could you take a couple of warm-up swings?” she called out testily. “It’s almost your turn to bat.”

Lauren merely waved an acknowledgment, then turned back to Ford. He said something that made her laugh just as she stood up and strolled back toward the bench, hips already swaying in the suggestive way that had the men on the field all but panting. Cassie’s little bloop of a hit, which should have been an easy out, landed untouched in short center field, and she reached first base before a single male reacted. Emma grinned, her mood improving.

“Everything okay?” Lauren asked, regarding her curiously.

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Something in your voice a minute ago. You sounded almost jealous that I was chatting with Ford, but that couldn’t be, could it?” She seemed to find the possibility highly amusing.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I hardly know the man. If you’re interested in him, he’s all yours—though I’m surprised that you of all people would give the time of day to a journalist,” she said, figuring Lauren knew better than most people how annoyingly intrusive the press could be.

“So? I hear reporters can be decent human beings. The Winding River News isn’t some sleazy tabloid. Besides, Ford seems like a nice guy.”

Emma lost patience. “Do we have to have a discussion of Ford Hamilton right this minute? You’re up to bat. And the pitcher’s beginning to look irritated.”

Actually the pitcher’s tongue was all but hanging out as he ogled Lauren’s short shorts and snug tank top.

“Don’t mind John. He’ll wait,” Lauren said. “This is important.”

“No,” Emma said firmly. “It’s not. Winning this game is the only thing that’s important.”

Lauren shook her head. “Sweetie, you are in serious need of an adjustment in your priorities, but I suppose I can’t fix everything in a single weekend.”

When Emma started to speak, Lauren patted her hand. “Never mind. I’m going.” She picked up a bat, slung it over her shoulder and headed for the batter’s box, where she promptly wiggled her hips outrageously. Four pitches later she had drawn a walk. John grinned as he watched her sashay to first base.

“Amazing,” Ford said, sitting down on the bench next to Emma. “I think your team definitely has an unfair advantage.”

“We wouldn’t if men weren’t so predictable,” Emma retorted. “What are you doing here, anyway? Still stalking your prey?”

“I prefer to think of it as interviewing my sources,” he countered. “It’s going to be a great story. Too bad you won’t be part of it.”

“Be careful about libel, Mr. Hamilton. It can be a nasty business.”

“I hardly think there can be anything libelous in reporting how several Winding High grads achieved success.”

“I suppose that depends on how conscientious you are when you write your article.”

“Do you have a lot of experience with libel cases?” he asked, studying her curiously.

“No. It’s not my area of expertise, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand the law.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Of course, that is a subject I wrote my thesis on when I got my graduate degree, so I have a working knowledge of the law as well. Perhaps we can compare notes sometime.”

Refusing to admit that she was startled by his degree or his area of study, she frowned at him. “I wouldn’t count on it. Just be sure you keep your facts straight about my friends, and you and I won’t have a problem. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a game to play.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Why doesn’t it surprise me that they chose you to manage the team? Do you take everything you do so seriously?”

“Pretty much,” she said, then added defensively, “I don’t consider that a character flaw.”

“Not a flaw,” he agreed. “Just boring.” He glanced toward the ballfield where Lauren and Cassie were hamming it up in the outfield. “Now, take your friend Lauren. She obviously knows how to enjoy herself.”

The observation rankled, possibly because it implied that he approved of Lauren more than he approved of Emma. She found it extremely exasperating that it mattered to her whom he preferred.

“Don’t let her fool you,” she said tightly. “She’s a very smart woman.”

“Did I say she wasn’t? You don’t have to hide your brains to have fun.”

The remark hit a little too close to what Lauren had said to her. Emma was getting tired of everyone suggesting that she was leading a dull, predictable life.

“I enjoy myself, Mr. Hamilton. Maybe it’s just that you don’t amuse me.”

His grin spread. “Then I’ll have to work on that. Good luck with the game,” he added, then stood up and sauntered off.

Emma stared after him, once again feeling more off-kilter than she had in years. It was definitely a good thing she was going back to Denver first thing tomorrow. She wasn’t sure she wanted to discover how effective Ford Hamilton could be once he set his mind to charming her.

Emma Rogers was pretty much an aggravating pain in the butt, Ford concluded as he went off to find friendlier company. Even so, he couldn’t deny that she intrigued him—not as a woman, he quickly assured himself, but as a person. There was a distinction, though he was having difficulty pinning that down at the moment.

At any rate, even while he sat with the men as they took their turn at bat, his gaze kept straying to Emma, noting the intensity of her expression as she watched her players perform in the field. Suddenly an image of her in his bed, just as intent on their lovemaking, swept through his mind. Heat climbed up his neck at the improbable but thoroughly erotic fantasy.

“What’s going on, buddy? You look a little flushed,” Ryan Taylor said, amusement threading through his voice.

Ford forced his attention away from Emma and glanced at the sheriff. “It’s hot out here.”

“Maybe so, but I’ll bet it’s not half as hot as wherever your head was. Thinking about our Emma, were you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I hardly know the woman. And what I do know doesn’t recommend her. She’s an annoying, stuffy know-it-all.”

Ryan’s grin spread. “Some men would find that challenging.”

“Not me.”

“Too bad. She could use a man who’s not afraid of her intellect, maybe even one who’s perceptive enough to see through to her vulnerability.”

“Emma, vulnerable? I don’t think so.”

“Like I said, it takes a certain amount of perception to see past that tough facade. I guess I misjudged you. I thought you might be used to digging below the surface to see what a person is really like.”

The comment hit its mark. “Well, it hardly matters whether I am or I’m not. She’s definitely not inclined to let me get close enough to find out. Besides, she’s heading back to Denver any day now. In fact, based on what she said at the dance last night, I thought she’d be on the road first thing this morning.”

“Were you disappointed to find her still here today?”

Ford scowled. “It didn’t matter to me one way or the other.”

Ryan chuckled. “Yeah, I can see that.” His expression suddenly sobered. He paused, as if he were choosing his words with care. “By the way,” he began finally, “Teddy says he got a picture of that little scene with Sue Ellen and Donny last night. You don’t intend to use it, do you?”

“No,” Ford said without hesitation. “Domestic disputes don’t warrant coverage.”

“Glad to hear it,” Ryan said, looking relieved. “Sue Ellen doesn’t need to have her troubles plastered all over the newspaper. She has a tough enough life as it is.”

“If that’s the case, why haven’t you arrested Donny?”

“She won’t press charges,” Ryan said with evident frustration. “My hands are tied, unless I catch him in the act of hurting her. Believe me, I’m just itching to slap the man with assault charges. He needs help, and he sure as hell won’t get it as long as she keeps making excuses for him. It makes me sick to see how he humiliates her over and over again. Sue Ellen was one of the most outgoing kids in our class. She participated in every activity. She always had a smile on her face. Now she barely sets foot out of the house, and I can’t tell you the last time I saw her smile.”

“I noticed they didn’t come today,” Ford said.

Ryan’s expression turned grim. “Probably because she has bruises she’s trying to hide and he’s out on the sofa with a hangover.”

Ford shuddered at the sheriff’s matter-of-fact description. “Even around here, there must be places she could go for help.”

“She won’t leave. I’ve tried. Hell, half the town has tried at one time or another, but Sue Ellen believes with everything in her that Donny loves her and that he’ll change. Personally, I don’t see it happening. Their marriage is a tragedy waiting to happen. The one blessing in all of this is that they’ve never had kids, so there are no innocent victims suffering because she refuses to get out.”

A shadow fell over them. Ford looked up, surprised to see Emma standing there.

“Are you talking about Sue Ellen?” she asked Ryan, carefully avoiding Ford’s gaze.

Ryan nodded. “Any ideas on how to get her out of there?”

“None,” she said.

Ford was startled by her helpless, frustrated expression. For the first time, he saw a hint of that vulnerability Ryan had been talking about.

“Maybe you could talk to her,” Ryan suggested. “She always admired you, Emma, and you are an attorney. You could give her some hard truths about the odds of Donny ever changing.”

Emma shook her head. “I’m sure she’s been told the statistics a hundred times, and just doesn’t want to believe them. She wants to believe that he’s the exception, that if she’s loyal enough and patient enough, he’ll stop hurting her.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to get through to her,” Ryan coaxed. “Do it as a favor to me.”

“Okay, I will. I’ll do it for you. I’ll call her,” Emma promised. “I just hope the fact that she’s even talking to me doesn’t set Donny off. It could, you know.”

“I think it’s a chance worth taking,” Ryan told her. “Thankfully I don’t run across a lot of domestic violence around here, so I’m no expert, but I think the tensions are escalating dangerously.”

Emma sighed. “I hope you’re wrong about that.”

“You really care about Sue Ellen Carter, don’t you?” Ford said, letting his surprise show.

Emma finally looked at him. “Of course. She’s an old friend,” she said matter-of-factly. “In Winding River, friends stick together.”

“And in Denver?” he taunted. “What do friends do there?”

The question seemed to disconcert her. “The same thing, I suppose.”

Her reply was more telling than she realized. In that instant, Ford realized that despite all of the close friends in evidence at the reunion, Emma Rogers was quite possibly one of the loneliest people he’d ever met. And to his very sincere regret, in some gallant, knight-in-shining-armor fantasy, he wanted to change that.

The news that Cassie’s mother had breast cancer threw Emma’s already shattered timetable into chaos. There was no way she could abandon her childhood friend right now. Thanks to faxes and the availability of overnight couriers, she could stay on the job and remain right here in Winding River for a few more days until they knew how the surgery was going to go.

Making those arrangements and lending support to Cassie pushed all thoughts of Sue Ellen temporarily out of Emma’s mind. It was several days later when she remembered her promise to Ryan and set aside time to call Sue Ellen. Maybe it was for the best that she’d waited, Emma told herself as she dialed Sue Ellen’s number. Donny would surely be back at work, which would make it easier for them to talk without him influencing what Sue Ellen said or fueling her reluctance to talk at all.

The phone rang and rang without even an answering machine picking up. Since everyone in town had told her that Sue Ellen rarely left the house anymore, Emma left Caitlyn with her grandfather for another riding lesson and drove into town.

Sue Ellen and Donny were living in a small apartment in a converted garage just a few blocks from where Cassie had grown up. It wasn’t the best part of town. There had been little effort at upkeep and even less at landscaping. No doubt whatever money Donny earned went for booze, Emma thought, more sadly than cynically.

Emma knocked on the Carters’ door, waited, then knocked again. She was almost certain that she heard a faint stirring inside, but no one answered the knock.

“Sue Ellen, are you there? It’s Emma Rogers. I’d love to visit with you, if you have a few minutes.”

The rustling sound came closer to the door, but it remained tightly shut.

“I’m…I’m not feeling well,” Sue Ellen whispered, her voice hoarse. “It’s not a good time.”

“I’m not worried about catching a few germs,” Emma said, deliberately pretending to go along with the excuse but at the same time refusing to leave.

“Please, Emma, not now.” Sue Ellen sounded near tears.

Concluding that dancing around the obvious was accomplishing nothing, Emma asked bluntly, “Has Donny hurt you again?”

The question was greeted by a sharp intake of breath, then a sob.

“It’s okay, Sue Ellen. I just want to help.”

“You can’t. Nobody can.”

“That’s not true. Won’t you at least let me try?”

“I can’t. It will only make it worse if Donny finds out. Please go away,” she begged. “That’s the best thing you can do for me, Emma.”

Emma took a card for an abuse hot line from her purse, scribbled her own cell phone number on the back, and slid it under the door. “If you change your mind, call me or call that hot line. There is help, Sue Ellen. All you have to do is ask for it.”

Only the sound of wrenching sobs answered her.

“Call,” Emma pleaded one last time, then reluctantly turned and walked away.

She drove to Main Street, then parked in front of Stella’s. She needed to eat something completely and thoroughly decadent, some confection to remind her that life wasn’t entirely bleak. Bumping into a few of her friends wouldn’t hurt either.

Unfortunately, the only familiar face besides Stella’s was Ford Hamilton’s. Right this second, she would take whatever company she could get, if only because it would keep her from having to think about Sue Ellen.

Ford eyed her warily when she slid into the booth opposite him. Wariness quickly shifted to concern. “Everything okay? You look a little pale.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said grimly, then glanced up at Stella. “I want the biggest hot-fudge sundae you can make, extra hot fudge and extra nuts.”

“Now I know something’s wrong,” Ford said.

“Oh, why?”

“Because you strike me as the type who normally splurges on carrot sticks.”

“Well, now you know I’m not,” she said testily. “And if you’re just going to take digs at me, I’ll sit someplace else.”

He held up a placating hand. “Stay. I’ll be good.”

She wasn’t buying the promise, but she stayed where she was because she was suddenly too exhausted to move.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No.”

“Want to talk about something else?”

“Not especially.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Then you’re with me just because you prefer anything to your own company?”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay. I can relate to that.” He picked up the New York paper he’d been reading. “Want some of this? Hard news? Features? Sports?”

“Business,” she said without enthusiasm.

“Checking on your investment portfolio?”

“Nope, checking to see if one of my clients made any headlines this morning.”

Ford’s eyes lit up. “Big case?”

“In some circles.” Despite herself, she began to grin at his obvious yearning to question her about it. “Go ahead. Ask.”

“What company?”

She mentioned the name of the software manufacturer.

Ford whistled. “That is big. I’ve been reading about it. Patent infringement, right?”

“That’s the charge. A former employee is suing them, claiming that they stole his idea then fired him.”

“And you’re claiming it was their property since he developed the idea while working for them,” he speculated.

“Exactly. And it’s not a claim. It’s the truth.”

“Still, it must be fascinating.”

Emma shrugged. Normally this case—all of her cases—brought on an adrenaline rush, but after her failed meeting with Sue Ellen, none of them seemed all that important.

Ford regarded her intently. “You’ve been to see your friend this morning, haven’t you? Sue Ellen?”

Once again, Emma was surprised by his perceptiveness. “How did you guess?”

“It wasn’t that difficult. Even after a couple of encounters, I can tell you’re the kind of woman who gets excited by work, yet I ask about the biggest case you’re handling and you shrug it off. That had to mean that something else is weighing on your mind.”

“Sue Ellen, Cassie’s mom—she was just diagnosed with breast cancer,” she explained when he regarded her blankly. “Then there’s my daughter’s unhappiness at the prospect of going back to Denver.”

“So you’re not having a good day.”

“Not especially.” She met his disconcertingly blue gaze. “Why did you end up in Winding River?”

“Do you really care about that?”

If it meant avoiding a conversation about Sue Ellen, she would listen to him talk endlessly about life before Winding River. “Let’s just say I’m curious. I heard you were a hotshot reporter in a big city before you came here. Did you get fired?”

“Naturally you would think that, wouldn’t you?” he said with a weary expression. “I’m sure there has to be a story behind your distrust of the media. One of these days I’ll get it out of you. As for me, the truth is that I did some investigative reporting in Atlanta and then in Chicago, and I was damned good at it.”

“That must have been exciting compared to covering a class reunion.”

“True, but it wasn’t as satisfying as I’d expected it to be. Oh, I liked exposing the bad guys well enough, but there’s a lot of bureaucracy on a large newspaper, a lot of economic pressure. I got tired of fighting it. I quit.”

“And here you’re in control,” she guessed, understanding the need to be in charge. For the first time since they’d met, she could relate to him.

“In charge and in a position to make a difference. If I do this right, I might be able to influence the future of this town.”

“In what direction?”

He grinned. “Hard to say. I’m still getting to know it. I’m not going to start out recommending that we bulldoze the trees and encourage development.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Which is not to say that I might not recommend that very thing at some point in the future.”

Emma tried to imagine Winding River as something other than the small, peaceful town it had always been. The image bothered her more than she’d expected. “I hope you don’t. Winding River is…I don’t know…special. It shouldn’t be tampered with too much.”

“So it’s too small for you to be happy here, but you want to know it’s unchanged for those rare occasions when you feel like coming home?” he challenged.

“Exactly,” she said without remorse. “Some things should never change.”

“Then maybe you need to stick around so you can have a say in what happens.”

She shook her head. “No, my life is in Denver now.”

“What life?” he asked.

She scowled at the deliberate challenge. “My career, my daughter.”

“Interesting that you put your work first,” he noted. “But let’s stick to your daughter for the moment. Don’t you think she’ll be happy wherever you are? Besides, didn’t you just tell me she didn’t want to go back?”

The reminder grated. “She has friends there. School. She loves it.”

“She just likes it here better. Why is that?” he prodded.

“Her grandfather just bribed her with a horse.”

Ford laughed. “That would do it for most kids, but are you sure that’s all of it?”

“What else could it be?”

“I’m hazarding a guess, but could it have something to do with the fact that she sees more of her mom here than she does at home?”

“You haven’t interviewed my daughter, have you?” she asked, only half in jest.

“So that is it?”

“Probably part of it,” she conceded.

Ford gathered up his newspaper and slid out of the booth. “I’m the last person on earth qualified to give parenting advice, but it seems to me there’s a message there that’s worth taking to heart. I’ll leave you to think about it.”

Emma sighed as he left her alone with her still-troubled thoughts. Now, though, she was focused on her own problems instead of Sue Ellen’s. Funny thing about that. A few days ago she wouldn’t have said she had any problems. Now, thanks to a pushy reporter who was more intuitive than she’d imagined, she realized that she’d just spent the past few years sweeping them under her very expensive rug.