Every Second Counts (10 page)

Lou nodded. “Good plan.”

She started toward the plate, but Bridgette called her back.

“You’re second to bat when we get up next. If I strike this girl out, you have to promise to nail it to the fence so we can go home.”

Lou grinned. “Honey, I’ll hit it over the fence just so I don’t have to run the bases on these tired old knees.”

“Deal.”

Obviously irritated that their consultation had stalled the game, the batter took her time knocking clay from her cleats for the tenth time, practicing her swing, and rearranging the dust in the batter’s box. Bridgette waited calmly for her to settle in the back corner of the box, bat held high.

She slapped her glove loudly against her leg as she released the ball to sucker the batter into believing she’d thrown it hard. It almost worked. The bat dipped slightly, but the batter hesitated as she recognized the slower speed and drew back to adjust. What she failed to read was the drop as it broke the plate, and she swung at empty air.

The crowd, which had swelled as the other fields emptied, both cheered and groaned loudly. Bridgette accepted the high-fives of her teammates, then sank gratefully onto the bench in the back corner of the dugout. Lou plopped down, too, to pull off her shin guards and chest protector.

“Good job, ace.”

“Thanks. Your turn now. Over the fence, you said.”

Lou winked at her. “A promise is a promise.”

“Hey, Lou. Who’s Desiree’s new escort?” Kristin, the youngest and newest member of the team, pointed toward the bleachers where a knot of players milled around Desiree and Ryder. Lou stood up, blocking Bridgette’s line of vision.

“Well, I’ll be mule-kicked. Wonder when that stray dog strolled into town.”

“You know her?” Kristin twisted her fingers in her blond ponytail. “She’s hot.”

“Sure, that’s—”

“Batter up!” The first batter had popped out on an infield fly, and the umpire was calling for Lou.

“On my way,” Lou said, grabbing her bat and helmet.

Bridgette stood and elbowed through her tired teammates to the chain-link fencing that protected the dugout. “Come on, you guys. Pay attention.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. “Outta the park, Lou. Better duck, pitcher.”

The other players joined in the heckling as Lou rested the bat on her shoulder and watched a pitch go high and outside.

“Ball! Count is one and oh,” the umpire said.

The pitcher nervously rubbed the ball against the leg of her shorts while Lou backed away and took a few practice swings. She grinned and pointed her bat toward Desiree and Ryder, then stepped up to the plate.

Bridgette heard the loud crack of the ball hitting the aluminum bat and the enthusiastic cheering around her, but her eyes were fixed on Ryder. The heat started in her belly and burned its way up to her cheeks. The dark cloud that had been following her all day instantly lifted.

She didn’t move as the others poured out of the dugout to congratulate Lou. She was watching Ryder scan the team. Was she looking for her? Their gazes met and Ryder smiled.

“I can’t believe that bitch has the nerve to show up here.” Fran, the red-haired first baseman, hadn’t left the dugout either.

“You know her?”

The team was sauntering back after shaking hands with the losers.

Trish, the second baseman, chimed in. “That’s Marc Ryder. She’s famous.”

“More like infamous. Bitch has slept with everybody in town.”

The venom in Fran’s voice surprised Bridgette.

“I heard she was paralyzed from the neck down and stuck in some Texas nursing home,” Vic, the centerfielder, said.

“Obviously, that isn’t true. But if she wasn’t standing right there, I’d have believed it after seeing that clip on ESPN,” Trish said.

“ESPN?” Bridgette searched her memory for anything Ryder had said that might give her a clue
. I’m a professional rider.

“She does rodeo. Rides bulls with the guys. She was ranked in the top ten but got messed up pretty bad a couple of months ago. They showed the clip about a million times. That bull threw her up in the air like a toy and stomped on her.”

Bridgette grabbed the fencing and the rough chain-links cut into her fingers. Everything was spinning.
Rides bulls.
She couldn’t breathe. She held on tight and took deep breaths to loosen the band of anxiety squeezing her chest.
She rides bulls.
She had to go. She had to leave before Ryder found her. She grabbed her equipment bag and headed for her car.

“Hey, Bridgette, wait up. Bridgette!”

She pretended she didn’t hear Ryder calling to her or see her breaking away from her friends to limp after her. She stared straight ahead and walked faster, right into a young boy who was running to join his mother. Bridgette grabbed his arm before he fell to the ground. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you. Are you hurt?”

The boy’s mother walked up. “He’s fine. You know kids, they just take off without looking.” She frowned down at her son. “What if that’d been a car instead of a person? You need to be more careful.”

The boy brushed off his mother’s scolding. “Sorry. Can I get some peanuts before we go?”

“Only if you walk and don’t mow down anybody else.” She rolled her eyes and turned to Bridgette as the boy took off in a sprint. “I’m sorry, and he will be, too, when I get him home.”

“Really, don’t be too hard on him. I wasn’t looking either.” She bent to pick up the equipment bag she had dropped. When she straightened, the woman was gone and she was face-to-face with Ryder.

“Hey.” Ryder’s cheeks dimpled and her teeth flashed white in the semi-darkness.

“Hello.” Bridgette shifted her feet, searching for something to say. Damn. Ryder looked good. Better than good. She was dressed in tight stonewashed, boot-cut jeans and a crisp, white shirt with the sleeves rolled midway up her forearms. “About that art class—”

Ryder’s smile dimmed. “Uh-oh. Trouble.”

But she wasn’t referring to what Bridgette was about to say. Bridgette barely had time to step out of the way as Fran stormed up.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this.”

Bridgette jerked in surprise when Fran delivered a slap that left the outline of her hand on Ryder’s cheek.

Ryder didn’t move. She hadn’t even flinched when Fran drew back to hit her.

“Now you have,” she said. “And I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. But it was twelve years ago and we were just kids. Let it go.”

Fran’s eyes filled with tears. “I wish that bull had broken your worthless neck.”

Bridgette was speechless as Fran stomped away.

“Sorry about that. Old history. We’d been out a few times when I got a job offer riding on the dressage circuit. I was eighteen and anxious to see the world and kind of left without telling her.”

“It’s none of my business.”

“I just didn’t want you to think…well, it doesn’t matter. Have you eaten? Could I take you out for dinner or coffee and dessert?”

“Thank you, but no. I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”

“Lunch tomorrow?”

“I’m busy.” Bridgette started toward her car.

Ryder looked confused and hobbled after her. “You got my note, right? I had an appointment I couldn’t miss. I would have called, but you didn’t give me your phone number. I called the art school, but they wouldn’t tell me either. I don’t know when or where to show up for your class.”

Bridgette stopped. “About that. We’ve hired a different model. You’re off the hook.” She started walking.

“Wait.” Ryder grabbed her arm. “I thought we had fun.”

She stopped again and faced Ryder. She would have never guessed this woman was stupid enough to play with bulls for a living. “It was fun.
Was
is the key word here.”

“So we’re a one-nighter?” Surprise, a flash of hurt, then challenge flashed across Ryder’s handsome face. “Fine. I can do that. I just hadn’t pegged you as that type.”

“Then we’re even. I’d never have guessed you were such an idiot either.”

Ryder blinked away the sweat that dripped into her eyes, then put her head down and pedaled hard and fast on the stationary bicycle. The muscles in her injured leg screamed, but she tightened the bike’s tension another notch and rose to put her full weight onto her legs for one last climb.

Her quads bulged and her calves cramped from her hour-long workout, but she welcomed the punishing pain and exertion. The more she hurt, the less she thought about the sting of Bridgette’s kiss-off.

I’d never have guessed you were such an idiot either.

What the hell did that mean? Had someone at the softball field said something that pissed Bridgette off?

It wasn’t like she couldn’t find plenty of other women to sleep with. Still, she replayed the night again and again in her mind, searching for something that she’d said or done wrong.

Forget it. There were no answers when somebody dumped you. Like her world-traveling parents, who abandoned her to be raised by her grandmother. Like her grandmother, who dumped her in a program for juveniles so she could paint without the needs of a child disturbing her.

She had learned early to hit the door first so you weren’t the one left with a damaged ego. She was irritated that she hadn’t seen it coming with Bridgette.

“Working that leg too hard, too soon is only going to set you back.”

She was so absorbed in her thoughts, she hadn’t seen Jessica come into the equestrian center’s gym. She sat back onto the bike’s saddle and slowed her feet to a cool-down pace.

“No pain, no gain,” she said, accepting the towel Jessica offered to wipe the sweat from her face.

“A very wise physical therapist once told me that too much pain is a good indicator you’re pushing too hard, too soon.” Jessica’s stare was curious. “You definitely looked like you were hurting.”

She swiped at her face again, as if she could wipe away the expression that had betrayed her. “Nah. I just make weird faces when I’m concentrating.” She could see that Jessica wasn’t buying it, so she offered up her patented Ryder-style cocky grin she used to slam the door on her insecure little Marci Ridenhouer deep inside. “Did you come up for a swim?”

The gym complex included an indoor swimming pool and hot tub adjacent to the exercise room, and she could see a swimsuit under the terry-cloth robe Jessica wore loosely tied around her rather large belly.

“Seems like my back aches constantly these days, and the pool helps.” She grimaced. “But I got a little dizzy in the water a couple of weeks ago, so Skyler made me promise I wouldn’t swim alone until after the baby comes. I was hoping I could convince you to accompany me, so I don’t have to ask her. She’s got so much to do, trying to manage her work and most of mine, too.”

Ryder climbed down from the bike. “Sure, I don’t mind.” Being around someone eight months pregnant did make her a little nervous, but she also felt curiously protective. “The pool will probably be good for me.”

She’d never thought pregnant women were attractive, but Jessica was truly beautiful. Her thick black hair draped in a glossy cape across her shoulders and provided the perfect frame for her ice-blue eyes and radiant face. She was happy that Skyler had found this incredible woman, but she couldn’t help being a little jealous of their bond. It was something she’d never had, would never have.

“Jacuzzi first, to loosen up my back,” Jessica said.

Ryder frowned. She didn’t know anything about being pregnant, but she’d read the warnings always listed at hotel pools. “I thought pregnant women weren’t supposed to get in hot tubs.”

“Skyler lowered the temperature so I’m safe for about ten minutes at a time.”

Her skimpy spandex shorts and tank top were an adequate bathing suit, so Ryder carefully slid into the sunken Jacuzzi and reached up to help Jessica. When the terry robe dropped to the floor, she stared. A long white scar ran down Jessica’s thigh, and several others crisscrossed her knee. When she looked up, Jessica was watching her.

“I know a little about leg injuries myself,” she said, accepting Ryder’s help stepping down into the water. “I have an artificial joint in my knee that ended my riding career.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

She was suddenly embarrassed that she hadn’t kept in closer touch with her friends. She’d spent the past twelve years gallivanting around the world without a thought of the people she’d left behind. Had she grown up to be just like her parents?

“There was a time when I thought competing in the Olympics was the only thing that mattered in life.” Jessica looked down at her belly to rub it. “Now, it seems so unimportant.”

It hadn’t occurred to her that more than money and family ties qualified Jessica to run the top-level equestrian center. “What happened? I mean, if you don’t mind telling me.”

“I don’t mind.” Jessica sank up to her chin in the heated water and sighed. “God, this feels good.” She moved around until she found the seat with water jets that massaged her lower back. “It started with an accident on a cross-country jump. My horse broke his leg, and I broke mine. He was put down right there on the course, and I had two surgeries to pin my femur back together and later graft a new ACL in my knee.”

“That’s rough.” She closed her eyes against unwelcome visions of Aintree’s steeplechase course. She’d seen several incidents like that. The worst was a horse that broke his back. When she opened her eyes, Jessica was watching her. “I’ve seen a few of those accidents. They’re not pretty.”

They shared a moment of silence, both lost in their own ugly memories.

Ryder frowned. “I didn’t realize an ACL could end a riding career.”

“Actually, my ACL graft would have been fine if I’d taken time to properly rehab. But the trials for the US Equestrian Team were only months away.”

Ryder shook her head. She could see where this was going. “I got stomped on the side of my leg. It broke my shin and dislocated my knee, but it only tore the ligament on the inside. The ACL was just stretched a bit. The worst part is the plate in my shin.”

Jessica nodded and glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Help me switch to the pool?”