We’ve only been playing for seven minutes, but something doesn’t feel right. I came expecting a fight, and I was prepared to be marked hard. The reason I’m riding Clover in the first chukka is because she lives to bump. I’ve never ridden a braver pony.
But I’ve barely had the ball, and Torres hasn’t been anywhere near me. I’m still thinking about it when the whistle blows for the end of the first chukka.
We get three minutes to switch over to fresh ponies before we’re back, and I move from Clover to Brimstone.
The second chukka follows the same suit, except halfway through, my mallet snaps on a hit, and I gallop to the sides where Ruby passes me a new one.
“Torres is staying wide, and you’ve been clear most of this chukka. If they can get the ball to you, it’s an easy goal.”
Ruby’s right, because when I ride back in, Torres is nowhere near where he’s supposed to be, which is marking me.
By the end of the chukka,Los Tigresstill haven’t scored, and we’ve managed one blinder from the forty-yard line, but the best word I can use to describe this game is lackluster. The crowds feel the same, I can sense they’re getting restless from the amount of movement in the stands and the low hum of chatter instead of raucous cheering.
“Does anyone get the feeling they’re holding back?” muses Billy. “This is an easy ride.”
Unfortunately for us, the easy ride ends right before the whistle blows for the halftime break, when Fire throws her head back and catches Billy hard in the jaw. Play is happening at the opposite end of the field, and it takes a few seconds to realize it’s three against four.
Looking around for Billy, I spot him slumped in the saddle, with Fire slowing to a halt.
“Billy . . . Ref, stop the play?—”
Charging up the field, Jack catches Fire, steadying her so Billy doesn’t fall. “Medic. We need a medic.”
Juan and I are close behind, dismounting as we reach them, and between the three of us, we manage to get Billy off Fire as the medics sprint over. Blood pours from his mouth and nose as he’s jostled onto the stretcher.
“What the hell happened?” I snap, spinning around to seeLos Tigresstanding stock-still halfway down the pitch.
Jack shrugs. “I didn’t see.”
We might be winning three goals to zero, but the earlier excitement I felt for today vanishes into frustration as I ride off the field, leading Fire. It’s followed by a swirl of anxiety as I realize Ruby needs to take Billy’s place.
“This game sucks. It feels like they’re not even trying,” Jack grumbles as we gather in the changing room a couple of minutes later. Juan drops next to him.
I shake my head, though I agree. It’s not the same team we’ve been watching in the play-by-plays all week. “Where’s Ruby?”
“She’s outside.”
She’s leaning against the changing room when I walk out to find her, twirling the end of her long braid around her finger, and my heart swells. Fuck, I love this woman. And now I get to play with her in the most important match of the year.
“Hi, Trouble . . . nervous?”
Her teeth scrape along her bottom lip, and she peers up at me. “Maybe.”
“Come inside, we need to talk strategy.” I hold my hand out, only for it to be ignored.
“You’re not my husband right now. You’re my teammate.”
Wiping a hand across my mouth, I smother my smile. “If you want to be correct about it, I’m your captain. Now get inside.” And when she turns, I take great pleasure in smacking her arse.
With a giggle she doesn’t mean for me to hear, she strides ahead and sits down next to Juan.
“Okay, we have five minutes. I don’t know what the hell is going on out there, but it’s the most boring game I’ve ever played?—”
“Maybe it’s a ploy. They’re going to try to destroy us now that Billy’s out.” Juan turns to Ruby. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
I roll my eyes. “Seriously, guys, keep your guard up. A win is a win, but I’d rather say I earned it instead of them throwing it away.” I turn to Ruby. “They’ll underestimate you. Therefore, you won’t be marked like me, Jack, or Juan. You need to stay ready for a long pass. Jack and Juan will be marking the midway line, and I’ll be on Torres.”
