MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance by Bev Pettersen

Author:Bev Pettersen [Pettersen, Bev]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Westerhall
Published: 2016-09-15T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“Keep the mallet in your right hand,” Cassie said, tossing another ball on the ground. “And this time try tapping it through the goal posts. Remember there’s no top to the goal. The ball can go as high in the air as you want.”

Grace walked up to the ball, her expression determined. She swung her mallet and whack! The ball soared through the center of the goal posts.

It was a beautiful shot. Stomping around the field, hitting and retrieving the ball, was tiring but the ground work definitely helped. Grace had good eye-hand coordination, and now her shot had some power. Her passes were improving too. At least on foot. Those skills had yet to translate to the back of a horse and that would be more difficult, especially since Grace didn’t have a quiet horse to ride.

Cassie noted the spot where the ball had dropped by the trees and gave Grace an encouraging thumbs-up. “See, you can learn to play with your right hand. I’ll give you some strengthening exercises that can help too.”

Grace flashed a triumphant smile. Today she wore shorts and seemed relaxed about showing her bare legs. “This is a great field,” Grace said, heading in the direction of the ball. “The grass is cut the perfect length. Maybe tomorrow we can try passing the ball back and forth on horses?”

“Maybe,” Cassie said, striding beside Grace. But she shuddered to think of a rookie rider on one of Gramps’ high-powered polo ponies, loose in this big field. Grace would have difficulty keeping control, even with two hands on the reins. And when she had one hand holding a mallet, any ride would likely end in a runaway.

“Horses are tempted by open spaces,” Cassie said, trying to be tactful. “And Thoroughbreds are bred to run. So we should wait until we find a more suitable horse. I had a lot of falls in this field. Some of them really hurt.”

She didn’t want that to happen to Grace. It might shatter the girl’s newfound confidence. And Rachel’s fury would be unimaginable.

“Did my dad fall off too?” Grace asked.

“Sure. But not as much as me. My horses didn’t always stop or turn.”

“But Dad’s did?”

“He was a better rider,” Cassie said. “And a lot of times my job was just to canter around the field hunting for his balls.”

But because of his constant practicing, she’d been able to raise enough money to buy a real polo saddle. Alex had always been generous. Smart too. He’d known exactly how to circumvent her grandfather’s pride. It seemed whenever she needed extra money, Alex had tack that needed cleaning or horses that required exercise.

She’d been forty-five dollars short of buying her prom dress when he suddenly announced he needed his Porsche washed and vacuumed. “Rachel likes a clean car,’ he’d said, loud enough so Gramps would overhear. “And I don’t trust anyone but you with the paint, Cass.”

“I wish we had more than three balls,” Grace muttered. “And these plastic ones are all dented.

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