A Great Catch by Lorna Seilstad Page B

wearing their bloomers in public?”
    “Yeah, ain’t you heard of them? They were in the newspaper the other day. They’re teams of girls as good as men, and they travel around the country doing exhibition games against men’s teams. They put on a real show.”
    “In bloomers?”
    “Well, they can’t very well run around bases in a dress.”
    A smile spread across Emily’s face. Thanks, Lord. That was fast.

    With her healed wrist finally freed from the sling, Emily padded down the path, a rubberized swim bag swinging from her wrist. Only four days ago she’d attended the Owls’ game. Now, armed with all the information she needed about one of the Bloomer Girls’ teams, excitement bubbled inside her. She could already picture Marguerite’s and Lilly’s faces when she shared her idea. If the Council Bluffs Equal Suffrage Club could sponsor this game, it would speak volumes for what women were capable of.
    Bright sunshine, clear skies, and friends—could the day get any better? She’d even managed to avoid Carter this morning. And since it was the weekend, the beach would be crowded enough that she wouldn’t see him there either. A row of honking geese waddled single file across the gravel path as she neared. She giggled and stopped to let them pass.
    Marguerite waved at her from the door to the ladies’ bathhouse on the lakeshore.
    “Where’s Lilly?” Emily glanced across the way at a clump of men, who appeared to be laughing uncontrollably in front of the men’s bathhouse. She thought she recognized the Manawa Owls team members, though it was hard to tell with them out of uniform. But she knew Carter was not among them.
    “Lilly’s inside getting ready.”
    “Good,” Emily said. “I have an idea for the club I want to talk to you both about.”
    Marguerite opened the door to the changing facilities and waited for Emily to pass through. “Can’t you just enjoy yourself for one day?”
    “I can enjoy myself and still get done what I have to. It’s called efficiency.”
    “It’s called boring.” Marguerite nudged her toward one of the curtained dressing areas. “Now hurry up. I haven’t been swimming all summer.”
    Drawing a striped serge skirt over her bloomers, Emily talked to her friends through the curtain, explaining her plans for the Bloomer Girls’ competition. She pulled the curtain aside and peeked around it. “Wouldn’t it be a great way to show women can do whatever a man can do?”
    Lilly tied a yellow ribbon below her knee around her black stockings. “If you can get the Owls to agree. I’m not sure most men would want to be shown up by a group of women.”
    “The women aren’t guaranteed to win.” Emily stepped from behind the curtain and held out a flower-bedecked bathing cap to Marguerite.
    Marguerite helped Emily slip the cap over her bun. “But you sure hope they will. Do you think Carter’s team will say yes?”
    “I was hoping you’d ask him.” Emily tucked the fringe of curls around her face inside the cap. “No one can say no to you.”
    “It seems to me if anyone has any pull with Carter Stockton, it’s you, Miss Emily Graham.” Lilly adjusted her sailor collar. “The way he was fawning over you after you fell.”
    Emily placed her hand on the bathhouse door but didn’t turn the knob. “Believe me. Carter thinks I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

    No watch was needed for Carter to know he was late again. The boys on the team planned to meet to swim at one this afternoon, and it had to be nearly half past. He hadn’t been to this section of the beach in a couple of summers, and chances were, they’d not waited for him. He’d have to change quickly and find them in the water—probably at one of the toboggan slides out in the middle of the lake.
    He hurried to the men’s bathhouse and swung open the door.
    Emily’s eyes, wide as saucers, stared back at him from beneath a hat with way too many flowers on it.
    Then, before he could react, she