by Merry Farmer
“Really,” Lucy huffed. “If they’re going to start beating down the umpires, the Bears should be disqualified altogether.” More than anger lined her face, though. She kept her gaze firmly fixed on her husband, standing warily in the first-base umpire’s position.
“Don’t worry.” Bonnie reached to the side and patted Lucy’s arm without really seeing her. “It’ll all be over soon.”
And how! Two more innings to go before her fate was decided. Rex or Rupert, Rupert or Rex. Lord help her, but if the Wolves won, she would stand up to Rex, tell him the wedding was off and he could be the villain she knew him to be and close down her Place. And if the Bears won, well, she would look Rupert in the eye and tell him it was never meant to be between the two of them, whether it killed her or not. And if he protested, she would tell him that George had gone and filed the divorce decree with a forged signature, and if he protested it she would swear he signed it.
The eighth inning dragged on with no runs and the score set at four-four. The ninth opened with the Bears putting in their meanest, hardest-throwing pitcher. He led off by beaning Trey in the shin, sending him limping back to the fence that separated home plate from the stands where Bonnie sat.
“There is no way I’m letting that son of a bitch win this game,” Trey growled, then limped back into place.
But Rex’s slugger struck him out. He struck out the next batter, Solomon, too. He managed to walk Sean, but only because he pulled the same dirty trick that he had with Trey and hit Sean in the hip. He was losing steam in his pitches, though, and only provoked a wince in Sean, who shook off the pain. It was all for naught, though. Sam struck out next. The only hope for the Wolves was to take the game to extra innings.
Rex knew it too.
“What a fine wedding present for my boys to give me,” he chuckled, strutting over to stand by Bonnie’s side. “We can display the league trophy at our wedding reception.”
“The game’s not over yet, Mr. Bonneville,” Lucy snapped from Bonnie’s other side.
“No, you’re right.” Rex dropped his voice, staring at Bonnie with narrowed eyes. “The game is only just beginning.”
A chill passed down Bonnie’s spine. She gripped the edge of the bench with both hands and focused on the game, focused on Rupert. They had moved him to center field after Al’s injury. He should have been watching the game, but instead he stood straight, staring right back at her. Or rather, at Rex cozying up to her side.
The first Bears’ batter was struck out. The crowd swelled with cheers. The second hit a ground double, making it all the way to second safely. The crowd groaned. The third got out, but the man on second managed to make it to third.
When the fourth batter stepped up to the plate, the tension in the crowd was palpable. Bonnie folded her hands in prayer, pressing them to her mouth, but she had no idea what she was praying for. Did she want her own personal happiness to be assured at the expense of her girls? Could she live with herself that way? Could she live with herself if she married Rex and went through with his increasingly bone-chilling demands? And what might he do with her after he had his heir and didn’t need her any longer?
The thoughts jumbled and swirled through her head. Rex or Rupert, Rupert or Rex. Forget the rest of the game, it was Rupert she watched, heart racing, barely breathing. Once again, he was watching her instead of the action of the game. The distance between them made it hard to gauge his expression, but she could have sworn that it was something other than the dogged determination she would have expected from a man intent on winning back the love of his life. It was almost sad, almost…sacrificial.
The ball whizzed out of the pitcher’s hand. It hit the bat with a loud crack. It sailed high into the air, heading straight for Rupert. The runner on third hesitated, then bolted for home plate. Rupert reached out his arms. The ball sailed right to him, closer, closer. He positioned himself directly under it, ready for the easy catch.
His face pinched.
He froze.
The ball dropped to the ground.
The runner made it home.
The Bears won.
Bonnie belonged to Rex.
Chapter 12
“Don’t worry about it. The sun gets in my eyes sometimes too.” Trey did his best to comfort Rupert as the Wolves’ team slumped their way off of the field. The small section of Bonneville’s supporters cheered and whooped as Gunn handed over the league trophy. The rest of Haskell’s citizens moped and mumbled, a few of them sending Rupert dirty looks as they gathered their things to go home.
They had no idea that Rupert’s loss eclipsed any of theirs by miles. Or that he’d given in to that loss on purpose.
“We’ll win it next year,” Al growled, half determined, half dejected. He slapped Trey’s back, but did nothing but stare at Rupert.
“Sorry,” Rupert mumbled. What else could he do? He’d lost the game, which meant he’d lost his standing with his new friends, at least temporarily. Any other day, a consolation beer at the saloon would give them all a chance to lick their wounds and make friends again. This loss went much deeper.
He changed directions, letting the rest of the team walk on to their bench together while he veered toward the fence separating home plate from the grandstand behind it. George was slowly peeling off his umpire’s pads, but that didn’t stop him from scowling as Rupert passed, as if he knew exactly what he’d done, how he’d dropped the catch on purpose.
He’d done what he had to do. Now that he finally understood things from Bonnie’s point of view, the only thing he could do was throw the game, let her proceed with her plan to marry Bonneville, and protect the one thing she loved more than anything, more than him.
“Not such a big man after all, are you,” Bonneville taunted him from the other side of the fence. Bonnie had slipped off the stand where she’d spent the entire game visibly on edge. Mrs. Faraday, who had been sitting next to her with a little girl on her lap, climbed down to stand nearby, her confused gaze fixed on Rupert. Bonnie stood by Bonneville’s side, hand resting in the crook of his arm. She refused to look at him.
“Another day, Bonneville.” Rupert’s intention was to speak to Bonnie, to try to find a way to explain his decision to give up. He changed his mind after one smug sneer from Bonneville. If the man kept that up, he’d have words with him. He’d get into a fight, change his mind and battle to have Bonnie by his side. He couldn’t afford to do that. Bonnie’s life wasn’t his to gamble with.
“Hey Rex, we need you for the trophy ceremony!” A man also wearing a somewhat disheveled suit who bore a vague resemblance to Bonneville called from the cluster of celebrating Bears.
“In a minute, Rance,” Bonneville shouted back. He tightened his grip on Bonnie’s arm and narrowed his eyes at Rupert. “I just want to make sure we’re done here.”
Rupert waited to reply. He waited, heart breaking, until Bonnie glanced up, meeting his eyes. She knew. One glance was all it took to see she knew he’d thrown the game on purpose, handed her over to Bonneville and her own, original plan. The depth of the grief in her blue eyes was more than Rupert could bear.
“We’re done,” he answered, turning away. He met Mrs. Faraday’s eyes for a moment, but couldn’t bear to glance back at Bonnie, as much as he wanted to. His heart was broken, there was no point in stomping on the pieces. Mrs. Faraday opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again, pressing her lips shut and looking to Bonnie instead. Rupert walked away.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Rupert flinched and pivoted at the hissed comment to find George marching after him, umpire’s pads under his arms. George wore a scowl that Rupert didn’t think a pastor was capable of.
“I’m heading to the bench to pick up my things, then I’m going back to the hotel,” Rupert answered, more sarcastic than he felt.
George ignored the bite. “You’re just going to let Bonnie walk off with Bonneville that way?”
“Yep.” Rupert walked on,
shoulders hunched, chest constricted.
George grabbed his arm to stop him. “You can’t.”
Rupert’s brow flew up. “What do you mean, telling me what I can and can’t do?”
With an impatient huff, George said, “You love Bonnie. Any fool can see that.”
“Yeah?” Rupert swallowed, scowling.
“And unless I’ve completely lost touch with my ability to read members of my own congregation, Bonnie loves you too.”
Rupert frowned and glanced out over the baseball field. A few people had hung back to clean up, but already it was nearly deserted as Haskell went back to normal.
George made a wordless sound of frustration. “You and I both know that Bonneville will be bad for Bonnie. Very bad.” Rupert crossed his arms, refusing to look back at George, but he listened. “She thinks he’ll give her the money she needs to run her Place, but he won’t. At least not for any length of time.”
A twitch pulled at Rupert’s cheek. Did George know about Rex holding the deed to the Place? He shifted his eyes only to stare at the man. Judging by the unwavering expression he wore, maybe not.
George’s tight expression broke down to exhaustion a moment later. He used his free hand to rub his face. “As far as I can see, you’re the only person who can talk her out of this plan, but you just walked away from the situation.”
“I didn’t walk away,” Rupert argued. He swallowed, clenched his jaw. “I lost.”
George’s eyes narrowed. “Lost? Is that what you’re calling it?” He shuffled his pads in his arms so that he could assume a more aggressive stance. “Don’t think I didn’t see you drop that catch on purpose.”
All of the fight that remained in Rupert left him. He shrugged, throat tightening, hopelessness pressing down on him. “I had to lose.”
“Why?” George’s frown darkened.
“Because Bonnie and I made a bet.”
“A bet?”
“That if the Wolves won, she’d ditch Bonneville and return to me.”
George’s face pinched in confusion. “And if the Bears won you’d let her go marry Bonneville?”
Rupert nodded.
George hissed something under his breath. “You could have won the bet. What is your problem, man?”
“I could have won,” Rupert admitted in a grave voice. “But what would I have won?”
“Bonnie.” George nodded.
“And she would have lost everything.” He shook his head. “I could never do that to her.”
“Even though she loves you and you love her?” George growled, his anger clearly rising to the surface again.
Rupert shifted to face him fully. “You’ve never been in love, have you.”
“What? What does this have to do with me?”
“If you had, you’d realize that sometimes loving someone means letting them go. It means thinking of them more than yourself, even if what they want kills you inside.” Heaven help him, but his eyes stung with grief at the statement and his voice grew rough. “If I had won that bet, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. I wasn’t thinking when I made it.” He shook his head, rubbing his forehead. “All I want is what’s best for Bonnie.”
“Bonneville is not best for Bonnie,” George argued.
Rupert started forward again. He couldn’t stand to continue the conversation. “Maybe not,” he said over his shoulder to George, “but those girls of hers, the ones she saves, are. If I truly love her, I have to trust that she knows what she’s doing.”
“But that’s—”
Rupert didn’t hear what George thought that was. He held up a hand to silence him as he walked away to lick his wounds.
Bonnie swallowed several times to keep her tears and sorrow at bay as she stood by Rex’s side. He made a speech to his players and the few citizens of Haskell who spent their days toadying to him. Bonnie didn’t hear it. She’d heard it all before anyhow. Rex loved the sound of his own voice and loved the adoration of people applauding him. He grinned like a fox about to devour hens as he finished and basked in the praise of his team.
“And finally,” Rex wrapped things up, “I’d like to just remind you that you’re all invited to celebrate my long-awaited marriage to this gem of femininity, Bonnie.”
Rex grabbed Bonnie’s hand, crushing it to the point of pain, and yanked her closer to his side. The crowd must have mistaken her wince for a smile. They applauded, and several of Rex’s players cat-called. Vivian and Melinda Bonneville pretended to applaud, but their sneers were truer expressions of their feelings.
“It’s about time Bonnie and I make things right between us and God,” Rex went on with a leer that made several of the men around him laugh. “Although I hope that once we’re married, Bonnie will be willing to show me all her little tricks.”
The men guffawed harder. Vivian made a choking sound and turned away. Bonnie usually would have managed a sarcastic smile, but she could barely bring the corners of her lips up now.
“I’ve no doubt that in nine months’ time,” Rex continued, “we’ll be welcoming a new Bonneville heir into the fold.” He paused, then said, “Maybe eight months,” adding a wink.
The men laughed. Even a few of their wives tittered sycophantically. Bonnie walked away from it. She was too heartsick to stand there pretending to be proud, too disgusted to downplay Rex’s claim she might already be pregnant. Let the town biddies gossip, she didn’t care anymore.
Besides, she had work to do. Her wedding would be in two days. A wedding Rupert had as good as walked her down the aisle and given her away for. He’d dropped that catch on purpose. She’d seen it with her own eyes. He’d deliberately lost the game and their bet. She should be relieved, happy. Instead she couldn’t feel any emotion at all. Why would he do that? Why would he just let her go?
Unless it was because everything she’d railed at him for the last week had finally sunk in. Unless he finally understood. If he did, why did she feel as though she’d lost so much? She’d gotten exactly what she wanted all along. So why did her victory feel so hollow?
“What was that all about?” Pearl’s question, slightly more high-pitched than usual, pulled her out of her thoughts as she reached the edge of the field.
Bonnie was surprised to find Lucy standing with her, Dorothy asleep on her shoulder. Lucy was one of Haskell’s finer citizens, and as sweet as she was, she couldn’t generally associate with the likes of Pearl or the rest of Bonnie’s girls.
“Rex wants the church to be as packed as possible for our wedding,” Bonnie told them, glancing over her shoulder to where Rex was still surrounded by his cronies. “He wants it to be the biggest show Haskell has seen since those traveling actors came through in the spring.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Pearl planted her hands on her hips and frowned.
Bonnie blinked in surprise at Pearl’s show of emotion, but it was Lucy that said, “Rupert had that catch. He had it easily. He looked over at you at the last minute, then dropped it.”
The question, or rather the demand for an explanation, was inherent in Lucy’s tone. Bonnie opened her mouth to give her one, but no words came to her lips.
“I saw the two of you talking before the game,” Lucy reminded her. She adjusted Dorothy in her arms, then added, “I saw the two of you kissing before the game.”
Bonnie’s cheeks flared with heat. She’d thought—or at least hoped—that no one had seen them. “It was just a kiss.”
Lucy stared hard at her. “That was not just a kiss. Last time Gideon kissed me like that, we ended up with Dorothy.”
Any other day, Bonnie would have laughed at that comment. Instead, it filled her with crippling guilt. “It was just a kiss,” she repeated, lowering her eyes.
“Ooh, I can’t stand this!” Pearl squealed. “You love Rupert. I know it. All the girls know it. The two of you are so in love that it’s making the rest of us loopy.”
Bonnie raised her brow.
“It doesn’t make sense t
o me that two people so obviously in love are pushing each other away,” Lucy huffed in frustration. Dorothy stirred in her arms, so she lowered her voice as she added, “It seems absolutely ludicrous to me that you are still going to pursue this marriage to Rex Bonneville.”
“You don’t understand,” Bonnie said. She tried to push past her two friends and walk on, but they rushed to keep up.
“I understand that you think you have some big responsibility to all of us instead of to yourself,” Pearl said. “We’ve been talking about it, and we’ve decided that we refuse to let you go through with this wedding.”
“It’s not your or the girls’ decision to make,” Bonnie snapped.
“You deserve love too,” Pearl argued.
“Yes, you do,” Lucy added. “Whatever other troubles you may have, I’m sure they can be sorted out. Love triumphs over everything.”
“Love doesn’t trump survival,” Bonnie said. She stopped as they reached the edge of the road and rounded on them. “It doesn’t trump a full stomach, a roof over your head, and the ability to choose who, if anybody, to take to your bed. Trust me. I’ve been to that place where I didn’t have any of those things. I will not go back there again and I will not let anyone else in my care go back there, no matter how much in love I am.”
“So you admit that you love Rupert Cole?” Lucy asked.
Pearl bit her lip, cheeks growing pink. She wouldn’t betray Bonnie’s secret, but she also knew that once that divorce decree was filed, the marriage was no more.
“It doesn’t matter whether I love him or not,” Bonnie sighed, walking on with slower, heavier steps. “I need to marry Rex.”
“I don’t understand why—”
“Exactly,” Bonnie cut Lucy off. “You don’t understand. You just have to trust me when I say that sometimes you can’t be selfish, as much as you might want to. You have to think of others before you think of yourself. And you have to face up to mistakes you made a long time ago.” Mistakes like leaving Rupert the first time, getting involved with Rex to begin with, thinking she was stronger than she was, could help more people than she was really able. She’d made so many mistakes in her life that the weight of them suddenly seemed like it would crush her.
