A Great Catch by Lorna Seilstad

“Sometimes that would be nice.”
    “But Grandma, you do an excellent job with your affairs.” An ant crawled onto her hand, and she shook it off. “Don’t you enjoy making your own decisions? Thinking for yourself? Not answering to anyone?”
    “We all answer to someone. I answer to God, and so do you.” Grandma Kate started walking down the path again. “In some ways, your aunts are right. I have filled your mind with ideas about women being equal to men.”
    “But you’re right.”
    Grandma patted her arm. “Yes, it’s true. But equal doesn’t mean identical. Men aren’t unnecessary, dear. I miss your grandpa terribly. He was a part of me. We faced the world together. That’s how God planned it.”
    The deep sadness mirrored in her grandmother’s pale eyes broke Emily’s heart. “What do you miss the most?”
    Grandma Kate didn’t answer for several minutes. When she did, her voice was soft and far off. “I miss being the most important person in the world to someone.”
    Tears pricked Emily’s eyes, and she let the poignant words soak in like a soft rain. She wanted to argue that her grandmother was the most important person in the world to her, but she knew that wasn’t what Grandma Kate meant. A longing, so deep and painful it made her heart ache, forced her to press her hand to her chest. She wanted that kind of love.
    But it wasn’t going to happen. No man would ever make her the center of his world. Not too-plain, too-clumsy Emily Graham.
    She swallowed the longing and sighed. It was just as well. She had her own fight to concentrate on. If she had her way, she’d be doing it on a national level someday, right alongside Carrie Chapman Catt. Like her grandmother, she was a fighter, and no one was going to stop her.
    Emily glanced up and paused on the path. The fan-shaped baseball field, which she’d thought was still a good distance away, seemed to have sprouted from the earth. The Manawa Owls, sporting their red and white uniforms, had one man on second base and another at bat.
    Grandma Kate stopped beside the packed wooden bleachers beneath a canopy for spectators and squeezed Emily’s hand. “Only God knows the plans He has for you. He made you. Let Him direct your path.”
    Guilt swept over Emily. How long had it been since she’d asked God to direct her path or light the way? Of course she prayed. This morning she’d asked Him to bless her meeting with the suffrage league. He’d put the desire to do this work in her heart. Surely that was a good indication she was doing exactly what He’d have her do. Wasn’t it?
    Carter Stockton rose from the bench when he spotted them, waved, and jogged over. “Well, if it isn’t Slugger. Maybe we could use you on the team.”
    “And maybe you could use some manners, Carter Stockton.”
    “Emily.” Her grandmother scowled at her. “And Carter, why on earth are you calling my granddaughter ‘Slugger’?”
    “Never mind, ma’am. I apologize. You two need a place to sit?” In three long strides, he walked to the bleachers, then spoke to two men in the front row. Seconds later, they vacated their spots. He swept his arm toward the empty seats and bowed. “Ladies.”
    “You shouldn’t have made those men move.” Emily hung back, but Grandma Kate nudged her forward.
    A broad smile creased Carter’s face. “They volunteered. Enjoy the game.”
    “Wait. Who’s ahead?” Emily asked as he jogged off.
    “They are,” Carter called over his shoulder. “But not for long.”

7
    “Play ball!” Umpire Harvey Hill, a former classmate of Carter’s, pointed at the Owls.
    Emily and her grandmother had been there for nearly two hours now, and the sun was casting shadows on the field. The game was tied at 2–2. Carter had not allowed a single hit since he’d taken over on the pitcher’s mound. But that was seven innings ago. How long could he keep that up?
    Carter drew the ball to his chest as he squinted at the catcher. He looked away,