MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance Page 3

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The clubhouse swelled with applause as Rachel and Santiago cantered their fancy polo ponies back onto the field. A mounted umpire prepared to throw the ball out and start the second half.

  “Let’s go home,” Cassie repeated.

  She wasn’t interested in watching the rest of the game and couldn’t understand why Gramps still lingered by the terrace. Already club members gave them a wide berth, as if aware of the Sutherland black list and loath to fraternize with the enemy.

  “No,” Gramps said, his stubborn gaze locked on the row of tethered horses. “I need to check Ginger before we leave. I couldn’t get close to her before. But she looked lathered so I want to make sure they’re cooling her out okay. After the throw-out, I can slip back and see her.”

  “Okay. But we better not stay long.” She still had to drive her grandfather home, hook up his old trailer then hurry back and pick up Ginger before everyone left. She had the horrible suspicion Rachel was capable of deserting the mare at the polo field. And Ginger would hate being left alone. Any horse would.

  She scanned the riders on the field. At least she hadn’t bumped into Alex. Odd he wasn’t playing today. A relief really. Still, she couldn’t control a flash of anger. While her grandfather had never moved in the same social circles as the Sutherlands, he knew them well.

  Gramps had always welcomed Alex at his barn, and in his home. At one time he’d been Alex’s mentor, more like an uncle than a trainer. Yet when Gramps needed Alex’s support most, the man turned invisible.

  “Where’s Alex?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice light. “Does he play on a different team?”

  “I don’t know.” Gramps shrugged, his gaze still locked on the picketed ponies. “Haven’t seen him in years. I imagine he’s in the clubhouse.”

  Cassie’s mouth lifted in a rueful smile. Her grandfather rarely worried about people. And he no longer seemed upset about how Rachel had trashed his mare and the repercussions that would create. He was only thinking about Ginger’s welfare and whether Rachel’s grooms were cooling her out properly.

  He always worried about the horses first, emphasizing that if a rider was hot and thirsty, the horse probably was too. Alex hadn’t been spared the lectures. But unlike some people, he seemed to relish them, nodding and absorbing every word. Probably because his own parents had left him alone with a string of disinterested housekeepers, and he appreciated any sort of attention.

  She jammed her hands in her back pockets, watching as the umpire threw the ball in to start the second half. Santiago quickly gained possession and lobbed Rachel a perfect pass. Rachel swung her mallet and the ball trickled between the goalposts. The clubhouse crowd cheered as if it had been a world-caliber shot.

  “Look how she scores when riding a well-trained horse,” someone said.

  “Yes,” a man in a dark blazer replied. “Her last mount stunk. The kind of horse that’s good for nothing but dog food.”

  Gramps flinched and the horror on his kind face tugged at Cassie’s heart. “Let’s check Ginger now,” she said, sending the idiot in the blazer a withering glare.

  They slipped past the ‘Players And Grooms Only’ sign and behind the row of horses. The visiting team had brought extra animals so there were over twenty polo ponies tethered in a line beneath a shaded roof. A few were blanketed with cotton coolers designed to keep their muscles from stiffening. Grooms scurried everywhere, lugging brushes, buckets and bandages. Most of the animals tugged contentedly at their hay nets, aware their time on the polo field was over and that soon they’d be loaded on the trailers and returned to their respective stables.

  Then the color of the bandages and blankets changed to an imposing purple and gold. The Sutherland team colors. The horses in this section had a much more elaborate setup with open-air stalls and matching purple hay nets stuffed with alfalfa. Their long tails had been released from their polo knots and brushed out to a silky shine, and it was obvious they received the best of care.

  But Gramps’ brow furrowed. “I don’t see Ginger,” he said. “I recognize these three horses from that last chukka. She should be tied with them. But where is she?”

  His words trailed off in a disbelieving hiss as both he and Cassie spotted his horse at the same time.

  Ginger was tied to the back of a portable toilet a hundred yards from the other animals. She had no shade or hay or water, and a short rope forced her head unnaturally high. Her braided tail was still tied up in a game knot allowing the flies to feast undisturbed.

  “Dammit.” Her grandfather charged forward. At the sound of his voice, Ginger nickered, a heartrending sound of welcome and relief.

  “I’m sorry, girl.” He fumbled to untie her rope. But his fingers were shaking so much he couldn’t manage the knot.

  “Let me do that, Gramps.” Cassie gently pushed his hands away and released the knot. She couldn’t bear to look at her grandfather’s face. Didn’t want to see his torment. If Rachel had wanted to hurt him, this had been effective, even more than slandering his training abilities. But tying a hot horse out in the sun after the mare had valiantly galloped around a field trying to please her inept rider was not only cruel, it was criminal.

  It was a good thing Gramps had insisted on checking. At least they’d arrived in time. It had only been fifteen minutes since Ginger walked off the field. They could lead her around, give her slow sips of water and brush out her tail so she could swish away the hordes of flies.

  Cassie’s eyes narrowed on the mare’s ribs. There were so many clustering flies they resembled a moving cloud of black. She waved her hand and they rose in a mass—revealing blood-red gashes.

  She gasped then forced her words out between gritted teeth. “I’m going to cool out Ginger. And then I’m staying to talk to Rachel. This is despicable. Hey!” she called, gesturing at a passing groom. “What the hell are you guys doing? Did you forget about this mare?”

  The groom shuffled over, not meeting her eyes. “Rachel wanted that mare to be left alone,” he said. “And she tied her like that. Wanted to teach her a lesson.”

  “Fortunately she’s not her horse to teach,” Cassie said, pulling out the camera on her phone. “We need a bucket of water and some hay and ointment. And I want someone on the committee to come over right away and witness this abuse.”

  “But her sides were bloody when she came,” the groom said, his voice earnest now. “Some backwoods trainer named Jake Edwards had the mare, and Rachel was just trying to rescue the horse. Even the vet saw the marks. It’s all been documented. No one will ever let that guy’s animals on a polo field again. And Rachel is going to post it on the website so everyone knows.”

  Cassie’s fingers turned so numb she almost dropped her phone. This was being blamed on Gramps. She’d always known Rachel was crafty, but this was brilliantly evil.

  “Just bring me the water and ointment, please,” she said, trying to gather her composure before daring to look at Gramps. She could already feel his confusion, sense him shriveling beside her. She could even imagine his heart pounding in horror. And that couldn’t be healthy.

  Unfortunately there was little she could do to make him feel better—except wait for the end of the game and hope for a chance to confront Rachel.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Rachel just wants to win,” Santiago said, cradling his helmet and swiping the sweat from his forehead. “Good players are competitive like that. She had a tough game in the first half and took it out on the mare. That’s normal.”

  “It’s not normal,” Cassie snapped. The end of a grueling polo match wasn’t the best time to confront Santiago but Rachel had tossed her reins to a groom and disappeared into the clubhouse and Cassie was too incensed to leave without saying something.

  “She overrode Ginger,” Cassie went on. “Cut up her sides with spurs, then left her standing in the sun. Tied to a stinky portable. It was cruel.” She pulled in a shaky breath, hating the telltale quiver in her voic
e. “She told the grooms to leave her. Then blamed her condition on my grandfather. And Ginger was your responsibility. You’re the one who was working with her all month. You were the one supposed to ride her today.”

  “And I’d planned to,” Santiago said smoothly. “But Rachel insisted on switching. And we wouldn’t have left the mare tied here any longer. In fact, she’ll be trailered safely back to the Sutherland Estate along with the rest of the horses. Her legs will be wrapped and she can have a nice bran mash…and you can pick her up there and take her home.”

  “That’s just great.” Cassie’s throat closed so tightly it hurt to talk. “So Ginger doesn’t get a second chance? And now no club will ever look at Gramps’ horses. He devoted his life to training, to horses—”

  “It’s unfortunate it worked out like this.” Santiago tugged off his gloves, flexing his lean fingers. “Sorry but there’s nothing I can do.”

  He didn’t sound at all sorry and Cassie glared at him until he looked away.

  “Why don’t we talk next year,” he added. “People have short memories. And the college might need another horse then. It’s not such a big deal.”

  “But my grandfather has four polo ponies that he needs to sell now. And you riding Ginger was the agreement. So it is a big deal.”

  “Look, I apologize. But Rachel doesn’t like that mare. So there’s nothing more to discuss.” He slapped his gloves against his palm, the crack loud in the still air. “Now I must shower and attend a reception. I’ll do what I can. But your grandfather and I had nothing in writing.”

  He inclined his head and walked away, pausing to give last-minute instructions to a slim groom loading saddles onto a trailer. Santiago’s teeth gleamed in a confident smile, and the female groom looked up at him like he was a god. He was undoubtedly good looking with a real talent for polo—something Cassie could usually appreciate—but at this moment he looked more wolfish than handsome, the perfect henchman for someone like Rachel.

  Cassie pulled in a ragged breath, forcing herself to relax before walking away and following the line of horses. It wouldn’t help Gramps to see her upset. And right now he’d be focused on Ginger, not Santiago’s scruples. Or lack of them.

  She found her grandfather bent over Ginger’s legs, gently checking the horse’s tendons. “There’s no heat,” he said, glancing up and giving Cassie a relieved nod. “She seems fine, other than the abrasions.”

  And the possible damage to her mind. It wasn’t always physical. Some horses struggled mentally after a bad experience. But Cassie didn’t voice her fears. There was no telling how Rachel’s riding might have impacted the mare. Some animals could shake off a bad experience easier than others. And they had been relatively lucky. Not only did Rachel have rough hands, she was also reckless with her mallet. So it was a relief Ginger’s legs seemed unharmed.

  “Santiago said they’d take her back to Sutherlands with the rest of the ponies,” Cassie said brightly, hoping her lip didn’t curl at the mention of the man’s name. “He won’t have another chance to ride Ginger this summer though. So I’ll hook up your trailer and pick her up tonight.” So she’s safely off the Sutherland Estate before Rachel arrives home.

  “Okay,” Gramps said. “But let’s stay with her. Until she’s loaded and away from here.”

  Cassie nodded. Obviously her grandfather didn’t trust Rachel either and he had excellent instincts. But it was unsettling to fear for the safety of an animal and it wasn’t only Rachel they had to worry about. Santiago was on the Sutherland payroll too, along with countless others. And in this area the Sutherland family ruled supreme.

  She peered over her shoulder. On the surface everything appeared normal. Music and laughter filtered beyond the elaborate glass walls of the clubhouse. The sun hadn’t set but already the patio glowed with welcoming white lights. However the skin on her neck prickled as though everyone behind the glass was watching, and conspiring.

  “Rachel and Santiago won’t get near Ginger again,” Cassie said, trying to reassure herself as well as Gramps. “I’ll pick her up long before they leave the reception.” She paused, struggling to talk around the guilt balling in her throat. “I’m so sorry. I’m afraid this is my fault. Rachel—”

  “Doesn’t like you much,” her grandfather said. “I know.”

  “I should have stayed away,” Cassie said. “If I hadn’t come home this never would have happened. And Santiago would have ridden Ginger today and she would have been a star, instead of topping Rachel’s shit list.”

  “But I’m glad you came back.” Gramps fiddled with his belt, taking a moment to hike up his pants, as if embarrassed but determined to speak. “You never spoke much about Alex or Rachel. Never once asked about them. Was she the reason you left?”

  “I found a job at the equine center in West Virginia,” Cassie said. “You know that.”

  “But you and Alex were such good friends. He might have made you chase his polo balls and was always teasing, but he looked out for you. And that last summer I thought maybe you were more than friends?”

  Cassie averted her head, unnecessarily tugging the water bucket a half inch closer to Ginger’s front feet. “That was a long time ago,” she said. “I barely remember.”

  She didn’t remember the night she and Alex had sat up with a colicy horse and ended up in each other’s arms. Couldn’t remember his passionate kiss or the tenderness of his touch or how he’d spread his expensive jacket on the hay so it wouldn’t prick her skin. How he whispered that she was the best thing in his life. And that he loved her.

  “He came by a few times,” Gramps said. “After you left. Tried to give me money. I suspected he felt guilty about something.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Alex had tried to give her money too. But it hadn’t been his money she wanted.

  “I sent him packing,” her grandfather added. “Said I didn’t want to see him around ever again. Didn’t really mean it. I was just upset you’d moved away. He was a good kid, and a big help. But he never rode in that south field again.”

  Cassie’s head jerked up. “But that’s the field the Sutherlands groomed for polo. We always rode there… He always rode there.”

  “And I still do,” Gramps said, his eyes twinkling now. “Apparently he gave me that field. At least that’s what his lawyers tell me. And he still keeps it groomed but he never lets Rachel or her grooms ride there either. What I’m saying is that she probably already hates me. No doubt she would have trashed Ginger’s sale even if you hadn’t come home.”

  “Really?” Cassie tilted her head. She wanted to believe that. Hated to think her presence had hurt her grandfather. But the Sutherlands were a powerful family, and she definitely had a history with them.

  Gramps gave a confident nod. “Rachel made Santiago switch horses before she even knew you were home.”

  A slab of guilt lifted from her shoulders. Gramps always had a way of making her feel better. After her parents’ deaths, he’d shown up at the hospital, scooped her into his arms and asked if she wanted to meet his ponies. She’d been sad and scared and bewildered, numbed by the fire that had taken away her parents and everything she’d ever known. She’d barely been able to speak, let alone answer any questions. And even though he was technically only a distant relative, he’d taken her home and carved out a place for her in his life—a life that up to then had been devoted to horses.

  At first she’d thought him gruff and rather imposing. He was always working with horses, of all shapes and sizes, and he could teach them to do just about anything. Sometimes he’d train a balky animal to jump, or a hunter to stop bucking, but what she remembered most was how he helped riders better enjoy their animals.

  Alex’s father often brought over his big hunt horses, dropping off Alex in the process. “Can my son stay here for an hour or two? Just while I run down the road? Maybe you can fit in a riding lesson or something.”

  She hadn’t known then where Mr. Sutherland went but Alex was always ar
ound a lot longer than an hour. At first she’d been intimidated by the haughty boy perched on the top rail of the round pen. He was four years older than her, handsome, and tall for his age. And he wore real riding clothes, not jeans like her and Gramps. His black leather boots had always been spotless.

  When she first came, he’d ignored her, speaking only to Gramps. Asking questions like how to get his horse to stop bucking and what to do when a runaway galloped past the fox hounds and wouldn’t stop. But one day she’d been struggling with a bucket of water, and he slid down from the rail and helped her carry it into the barn.

  “Where’s your groom?” he asked, frowning at the water sloshed on her jeans.

  She hadn’t even known what a groom was, other than that was the word Gramps used when he told her to brush a horse. “Never mind,” Alex had said quickly. But after that he always carried the water and even helped her clean the stalls.

  Gramps had chuckled and said Alex was a paying customer and really shouldn’t be doing all her chores. But then added that it was good for kids, even a Sutherland, to learn proper horsemanship.

  Gramps used the word ‘horsemanship’ a lot and by the time she was eight, she could bandage and braid as well as any Sutherland groom. She could also stick like a burr to most horses. Both she and Alex soaked up Gramps’ teachings.

  She only remembered Alex ever questioning Gramps’ decisions once. Someone had brought in a big chestnut gelding with a nasty habit of bolting. She and Alex were riding in the south field and that horse had taken off at a breakneck gallop, then dropped his shoulder and dumped her on the ground, leaving her bruised and gasping for breath.