The Calamity Janes

by Sherryl Woods

  “I’ve never heard you talk about kids before.”

  “Maybe I just never heard my biological clock ticking quite so loudly before.” Lauren forced a smile. “Enough of this. I’m going out right this second to find myself the handsomest man in the room to dance with, even if he’s married to somebody else.”

  “Just don’t forget to give him back,” Emma teased. “I don’t want to have to rescue you from a vengeful wife.”

  Lauren waved off the suggestion as she began weaving through the couples on the dance floor. Only after Lauren had gone did Emma realize that her friend had taken Emma’s cell phone with her.

  “You look a little lost,” Ford Hamilton noted, pulling out the chair next to her. “Missing your phone?”

  She was startled by his intuition. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  “Do you conduct a lot of business on a Saturday night?”

  “When necessary.” She frowned at him. “I still don’t want to be interviewed, Mr. Hamilton.”

  “I got the message. You don’t object to dancing with a journalist, though, do you? I promise I won’t take notes if you miss a step or two.”

  Emma hadn’t been on a dance floor in…well, too long. Listening to the oldies being played by the band reminded her that once she had loved to dance. She’d been good at it, too. If she could forget for a minute who and what he was, it could be fun.

  “Let’s wait for a fast dance,” she said, eyeing him with amusement. “Then we’ll see if you can keep up.”

  “No contest,” he retorted. “Anything you can do—”

  Emma laughed. “Don’t finish that thought. I might view it as a challenge.”

  “It was meant to be.” His gaze clashed with hers.

  To Emma’s astonishment, she felt a little tingle of anticipation in the pit of her stomach. Her pulse did an unexpected dip and sway that left her feeling giddy. Fascinating. Lately the only time she felt any stirring of excitement was in a courtroom. Discovering that Ford Hamilton could have the same effect was more than mildly intriguing.

  One dance, she promised herself. No more. Just for the sheer exhilaration of it. And if she felt a bit off-kilter, a bit breathless at the conclusion, she could blame it on the unfamiliar exertion. It certainly wouldn’t have anything at all to do with the man who was regarding her with such an amused glint in his blue eyes.

  The beat of the music slowed, as the band slid from one tune to another, but then the pace quickened. Emma recognized an old Chubby Checker hit.

  “They’re playing our song, Mr. Hamilton,” she said, reaching for his hand and drawing him onto the floor.

  He was a tall, lanky man, and the twist was definitely not his dance. He was a good sport about it, though, laughing when they drew a cheering, clapping crowd of her friends.

  At the end of the song, Emma was ready to claim victory, but Ford wasn’t quite so quick to release her. As the band began a slow song, he drew her into his arms. She went with less reluctance than she’d intended.

  For a beat or two, Emma held herself stiffly, but then the music, the scent of Ford’s aftershave, the gentle pressure of his hand against her back, had her relaxing into the rhythm. Her cheek fit perfectly against his shoulder. It was rare that she’d been with a man who had several inches in height on her own five-ten. She caught herself right before she sighed with the pure pleasure of it.

  This time, when the song ended, he released her, then took a step back. He seemed suddenly wary, as if the dance had been more than he’d bargained for, as well.

  “Thanks for the dance,” he said. “Maybe I’ll see you around town.”

  His dismissal irritated her, but she managed to keep her voice and her expression cool. “I doubt that. I’ll be leaving on Sunday.”

  “On your next visit, then,” he said. “Or will that be a long time coming?”

  She didn’t like the implied criticism. “I get home when I can.”

  “Every couple of years is what I hear.”

  “Been asking a lot of probing questions tonight, Mr. Hamilton?” she inquired, disconcerted by the thought. A part of her had hoped she’d been wrong about him being like all the other reporters.

  “A few. You obviously lead a busy life.”

  “I do.”

  “Too bad it’s not fulfilling,” he said, then gave her a jaunty wave as he started away.

  This time she was the one calling him back. “Why would you say something like that?” she demanded indignantly. “Who have you been talking to?”

  “Deductive reasoning,” he said. “Besides, you admitted as much earlier.”

  “When?”

  “When I said I wanted to interview the town’s success stories,” he answered. “You gave me your interpretation of success, then all but said you couldn’t claim to have that kind of achievement.”

  Emma hadn’t realized her words had been so telling, or that Ford Hamilton was sensitive enough to pick up on what she’d left unspoken.

  “Well?” he prodded. “Are you denying it?”

  She forced a grim smile. “No comment.”

  He grinned. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “And if you quote me on it, I’ll call you a liar,” she retorted.

  “Oh, this isn’t for publication,” he assured her. “It’s just between us. I like to tuck away useful information about the people I meet.”

  Something about the way he said it—the way he looked at her when he said it—suggested she might have been better off giving him the interview he’d wanted hours ago. This conversation had red flags all over it.

  Chapter 3

  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 almos
t 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.