Read MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance Online
Authors: Bev Pettersen
MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance (30 page)
She’d never imagined there’d be a demand for investigators like Santiago but she was learning a lot about the lifestyle of the truly rich. With Santiago’s impressive polo credentials, he had entry into the highest social circles, where he could discreetly report on philandering husbands or murderous ex-wives.
But while Santiago had consulted for Alex in the past, his credentials weren’t earning him any passes today. The two men might be friends, but right now they were in a dogfight, battling grimly for possession. The umpire whistled down the play, ruling that Santiago had unfairly impeded Alex and crossed the line of the ball.
Cassie wheeled Digger, checking the scoreboard as she put him in position for a pass. The garish sponsorship sign had been removed and now the bottom of the board simply stated: ‘Ponhook Polo Club Welcomes All.’ The club executive had decided it wasn’t seemly to have a scoreboard sponsored by a woman imprisoned for attempted murder. Both Alex and Grace had agreed.
The scoreboard showed there wasn’t much time left in the game, just under a minute. Hopefully it wouldn’t need overtime. She, Alex and Grace were well conditioned but Gramps was the fourth member of their team and despite his doctor’s assurances, she couldn’t help but worry about his stamina.
And his position on the field.
She smiled over her shoulder at her grandfather. Gramps tended to rove a little too much, not sticking to his defensive position but more focused on using the game as a training opportunity. He was always analyzing their horses’ play, devising new drills to keep them sharp and happy. Right now, he seemed to think that spooky Tex needed a closer look at the group of kids cheering on the sidelines, sporting a colorful pony club banner.
Gramps grinned at her as he cantered past. “Those two are sure well matched,” he called, jabbing his mallet in the direction of Alex and Santiago who were positioning for a free hit. “But I think Alex has the better horse.” He smiled approvingly at Ginger, as usual more interested in the horses than the players.
Cassie nodded agreement. In fact, her grandfather had trained all the Sutherland horses competing in this last chukka, and if Ginger didn’t win Best Playing Pony it would be a surprise. Gramps conducted all his training at the estate now but refused to move into the mansion, insisting on returning to his farmhouse every evening. Often Grace rode back with him.
“It’s really nice at your grandfather’s,” Grace had said. “And he lets all the cats come inside. One night I had three sleeping on my bed.”
Cassie glanced up the field, checking on Grace. While Gramps floated around the pitch, the girl could be trusted to play her position. And she was still as kind as ever, sharing Gramps’ love of animals and developing a new confidence. She even helped Cassie teach riding lessons and had also participated in a polo demo for her pony club friends. Of course, it was hard not to be confident when one rode a dependable horse like Freckles.
Like Grace, Freckles’ attention was pinned on the play. Grace had been assigned the offensive position and a big number ‘1’ was emblazed on the back of her Sutherland uniform. However, from the start of the game Jocelyn Stiles had shadowed Grace, pushing her around as though it were a huge coup to outplay an eleven-year-old.
Even though Grace hadn’t touched the ball much, she was still grinning, happy to be playing in the championship game and thrilled that the proceeds were going to animal rescue. However, Cassie felt a mother’s indignation at the way Jocelyn was bullying Grace, taking advantage of the girl’s inexperience.
Even Freckles flattened his ears, tired of being crowded and intent on protecting his rider’s space. It was obvious he’d do his job and put Grace in the proper position, if only Jocelyn would give them a little room. Freckles was so brave, so bold.
The ball was back in play, with Alex and Santiago a blur of movement. Cassie abruptly turned Digger and galloped toward the left, shaking off her opposing rider. If Alex could reach the ball first, he might manage one last pass before time ran out. And because Gramps had moved to the side of the field, he’d drawn another Stiles player with him, opening up even more ground.
She pictured the play in her mind, telegraphing her thoughts to Alex as clearly as they’d done since childhood. And when speedy Ginger outran Santiago’s horse, Alex reached down and backhanded the ball without a second glance.
It was a perfect no-look pass that dropped in front of Digger as though positioned by radar. She tapped it off the planked sideboard, pushing it ahead with her mallet. She could hear Santiago wheeling and pounding up the field, intent on stopping her team’s last charge. She tapped the ball forward, using Digger’s agility to play with the ball, drawing in both Jonathon Stiles and his brother.
Then. “Go, Grace!” she called.
She swung, pulling back her mallet and lobbing the ball high in the air. It dropped twenty feet in front of the goalposts, a sphere of white rolling benignly over the grass.
Freckles was already moving in pursuit with Grace leaning over his neck and urging him on. But Jocelyn’s polo pony was much faster. Jocelyn overtook Grace in five strides, guiding her horse into Freckles’ shoulder and bullying them off the ball. The crowd groaned. All day, they’d been cheering on the kids, and Grace was the youngest rider of all. They would have loved to see her score the winning goal.
Boos and jeers came from the vocal tailgate section. “Give the kid a chance,” someone called. “It’s fun day,” a deep-voiced man hollered. And the Pony Club children were chanting some sort of ritualistic tune that Grace often hummed.
Freckles seemed to understand he was in the spotlight and he was a proven performer. He lowered his head, collected his weight, and
whack!
He body-slammed Jocelyn’s horse so hard in the shoulder that the animal flinched, then shrank back, wanting no more competition over a plastic ball.
Freckles shifted, smoothly positioning Grace so she could hit the ball with her right hand. He even slowed to a trot as if realizing there were only a few seconds left on the clock and this was a critical shot. Grace took aim, swung and the ball bounced between the white posts. The goal judge waved a flag over his head, signifying a goal. The crowd erupted.
Alex and Santiago galloped up beside Cassie, both of them grinning.
“Nice pass, sweetheart,” Alex said, leaning over and tapping Cassie’s helmet. “Did you two practice that?”
“Yes, they did,” Santiago said. He ruefully pumped their hands. “I spotted them practicing that last week. That’s why I had Jocelyn shadowing her. But the kid has come a long way. That was quite a ride-off. Good on you all.”
Cassie made a mental note not to practice plays when Santiago was in residence. But she couldn’t stop smiling. Because they
had
come a long way. And just seeing the happiness on Alex’s face left her light with a shared joy.
The crowd’s claps intensified. Whistles and laughter were followed by a groundswell of applause. She glanced around, rather confused. Even accounting for Grace’s enthusiastic friends, the cheering was much more vigorous than normal. The tournament trophy wasn’t even in sight. That was scheduled to be presented later, at the community barbecue.
“I believe Ginger just lost Best Playing Pony,” Alex said, reaching out and squeezing Cassie’s knee. “At least in popular opinion.”
She followed his smiling eyes to where Grace and Freckles remained in front of the goalposts.
Clearly the horse was a natural born showboat who hadn’t forgotten his movie cues. And while the young girl who’d never wanted to ride in public laughed and waved at her friends, Freckles was totally hamming it up by dropping bows to the adoring crowd.
***
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Bev Pettersen is a three-time nominee in the National Readers Choice Award as well as a two-time finalist in the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart® Contest. She competed for five years on the Alberta Thoroughbred race circuit and is an Equine Canada certified coach. She lives in Nova Scotia with her family and when not writing novels, she’s riding. Visit her at
http://www.bevpettersen.com