Chapter 20
“Henry, we’re flying back immediately after the game, and I won’t be alone. Besides, nothing has happened since the skeleton.”
“No headaches or concussion-related problems?”
“Not a one. I’ve attended three training sessions. My coaches seem pleased with my progress.”
Her words didn’t appease the big man.
Maia reached over and placed her hand on his knee. “Give me a goodbye kiss for luck. I’ll see you later tonight.”
“Please watch over my rugby girl.” He jumped out of the driver’s seat and rounded the hood to stand by her door. When he opened it, he said, “I want a proper kiss.”
Maia climbed out straight into his arms. Their lips met, and he kissed her—an incredibly sweet kiss that had her wanting to beg him to come with her. Except he couldn’t, and they knew it.
“Play smart. Look after your head,” he ordered. “I’ll be waiting in the terminal when the plane lands.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a swift kiss before grabbing her gear bag. “I’m nervous even though I won’t play for long.”
“You’ll do fine,” Henry said in a gruff voice.
With a wave, she shouldered her bag and hoofed it to the terminal entrance. As she’d expected, she found her team members and coaching staff gathered in the terminal.
“Ah, there you are, Maia,” Seth, the team manager, said. “We’re boarding in thirty minutes.”
Maia accepted the boarding pass. She smiled at the girls standing around her.
Some met her gaze, but few returned her friendly smile.
Her stomach plummeted, and disappointment spread.
Being the new girl wasn’t easy, but she hadn’t expected overt hostility.
No, that wasn’t the right term. The girls were more standoffish.
“Maia!”
Maia turned to spot Jan and smiled.
“Are you nervous?” Jan asked.
“Yes,” Maia said.
“I’m petrified. I’ve been to the restroom twice since I arrived,” Jan confessed. “It’s always like this before a game. If I’m not panicky, that’s a bad sign.”
“It’s my first chance of game time for a new team. I’m ultra anxious.” Maia scanned the other girls, who were all chatting while waiting for the last two players to arrive. “Is it me, or are the girls acting aloof?”
“A bit of that and game nerves. We played badly last week, and the coaching team has shown they will reward form players. That brings pressure and competition for team spots.”
What Jan said made sense. She would’ve asked more questions, but the two tardy players arrived, and they moved to the boarding gate as a group. The flight was uneventful, and Maia spent her time proofreading one of her manuscripts on her e-reader before she sent it to her editor.
A bus waited for them at the airport, and as Maia expected, the place they were playing was off the beaten path.
Spectators stood around the edge of the field instead of sitting in a stand.
The changing rooms were drafty, making Maia glad she’d donned her playing gear beneath her tracksuit before leaving home and didn’t have to strip and get cold.
She’d bet the showers had limited warm water, and there’d be a battle royale to get to them post-game. She’d shower at home.
Game time arrived, and the two teams jogged onto the pitch. Maia sat on one of the deck chairs provided for the coaches and trainers and wrapped a coat and a blanket around her knees. The charcoal gray sky told her she might end up playing in the rain.
The referee’s whistle blasted, signaling the start. The opposition kicked the ball, and everything turned to custard. Their player—Maia couldn’t remember her name—dropped the ball, knocking it on and giving the opposition team an advantage.
Rose, sitting beside her, cursed softly, not taking her focus off the run of play. Maia groaned because the girls were fumbling the ball like rank beginners. Nerves? Or pressure? Maia didn’t know, and that was up to the coaches to fix.
The opposition team capitalized on their mistakes and scored a try in the corner, to the delight of their supporters. They cheered and banged a drum in celebration. The kick to convert the try hit the upright and bounced off. The spectators groaned and shouted encouragement.
In the next set of play, Jan caught the ball, dodged a tackle, and fended off another player before going down. Her run steadied their team, and they played better, stringing together runs that took them close to their goal line.
“That’s more like it.” Rose jotted in her notebook.
Maia saw their players relax after several better passages, but her team got sloppy instead of focusing and working out how to get through the opposition.
Amanda threw a pass that telegraphed her intentions.
One of the opposite players intercepted the ball and charged toward the goal line, dotting down beneath the posts.
“And it’s a try to the Wellington Ravens,” the commentator cried.
Maia gave a silent groan, but the two other bench players weren’t as tactful.
“Wow, she’s always telling us how talented she is, and she makes a rookie error,” one whispered to the other.
“These things happen,” Maia said crisply.
“We make mistakes. The challenge is to pick yourself up instead of spiraling into pity, losing your temper, or blaming someone else.” At least Jan was playing well.
One player, however, couldn’t win by herself.
Jan did everything right, passing when necessary and taking the ball to ground when required.
Unfortunately, the other girls held grudges, and tempers ramped up. When the first half drew to a close, Rose and Cameron held grim expressions, and Rose had written screeds in her notebook. She gestured for Maia and the other two players to follow her.
Maia steeled herself to listen to a blasting from the coaches, and as soon as they reached their dressing room, the concise bullet points dissecting their first-half game came in quick succession.
They were playing as individuals rather than a team.
Their ball handling was sloppy. They were letting the opposition rattle them.
Set-piece play had gone by the wayside. They were kicking too much and needed to hold the ball.
“Megan and Harriet, you’re on for the second half.”
The two players who’d sat with Maia stripped off their gear and ran outside to warm their muscles before they jogged onto the field.
“Kathy and Wilhelmina, you’ll come off. Everyone else—watch your ball handling.
Use kicking as a last resort, and start playing together.
Pass the ball if you can, but use our set plays if you need to take it to ground.
Jan and Zara, good game. Keep up the excellent work.
Maia, I’m going to sub you on with about twenty minutes to go. ”
“Okay,” Maia said, excited to have confirmation she would play. Getting the first hit-out behind her would be reassuring. Then, she could focus on improving and slotting into the team.
“I’ll give you instructions once the second half begins,” the coach said.
“Yes, Coach,” Maia said.
The break went fast, and soon, the two teams trotted onto the field. The referee’s whistle blew, and the game commenced.
“Oh, heck,” Rose muttered. Beside her, Cameron bit out a pithy curse.
Maia gaped at Amanda, their captain, who’d thrown a punch.
The referee sounded his whistle and plucked a red card from his pocket. Amanda scowled and stood her ground until Jan nudged her. Amanda stomped to the sideline where the coaches, Maia, and the two substituted players sat.
“Go to the dressing room and get changed,” Rose said, her mouth set in disapproval. “Once you’re done, come and join us.” She turned her focus to the game in a firm dismissal.
Despite being short one player, the team started playing better with Jan issuing orders. They attacked and beat the opposition team back to their goal line.
“She’s leadership material,” Cameron murmured to Rose.
“Yes,” Rose said. “Maia, start your warmup. We’ll sub you in ten minutes.”
Maia did some light jogging on the practice field next door. She stretched her limbs, and when the coach signaled her, she ran over and stripped off her tracksuit pants and jacket.
“Go in at number eight,” the coach said. “Tell Liz to come off.”
Maia nodded, pleased to play in her favorite position, and waited while Cameron signaled the referee that he was sending on a substitute player.
“Which number is coming off?” the ref asked as Maia trotted past.
“Number eleven.” Maia ran over to Liz and told her the coach wanted her off.
Liz cursed and stomped to the sideline. Maia didn’t comment but secretly thought the coach had made an excellent call.
Liz’s shirt appeared pristine, and she’d done little to help today.
A few players were having worse games than the previous week, and Maia had no idea why when the coach had considered them skilled enough for the team.
She disregarded the thought and immersed herself in the game. Her initial contact with the ball passed without incident, and her nerves settled. It was a blast, and now that Jan was directing the game, the girls played with alertness.
The referee blew his whistle. A penalty for their team.
Maia glanced at Jan and received a quick nod.
She tapped the ball and started running, with Jan shadowing her.
They surprised the opposition when they’d dithered through the rest of the game.
Maia fended off an opposition forward and flew past with Jan still backing her and in the clear for a pass if Maia got tackled or blocked.
Her heart pumped, and her muscles strained as she sped toward the goal line. Then she was there and dived, dotting the ball down as a forward tackled. Too late! They’d scored.
Maia rolled away and sprang to her feet. In the next second, Jan and Zara had her in a fierce hug. The official raised his hand to signal a try.
Zara took the kick, and the ball floated through the goal uprights.
Yay! They were on the scoreboard.
The next fifteen minutes passed rapidly. Her team took heart from scoring and lifted their game, making excellent runs toward the opposition’s goal.
The Wellington team scored a field goal, and Maia’s team went into a quick huddle.
“Let’s make the coach proud and try one of our set plays from the kickoff,” Jan said.
Maia suggested one, and the girls nodded, each knowing their part.
Zara kicked off, placing the ball in precisely the right place.
Their forwards rushed the receiving player, and the ball flew free.
Maia seized it and set off toward the goal line.
There was no one in front of her. She couldn’t be this lucky.
She didn’t hear the referee’s whistle and sprinted for the goal line.
Then she was over in the corner. Not an easy kick.
Since no one tackled her, she rounded and ran across until she could dot down under the goal.
The referee’s whistle was the sweetest music. Although they wouldn’t win today, they’d made the score more respectable.
Zara slotted the conversion, then the referee blew the final whistle.
Maia shook hands with the opposition players, congratulating them, while Jan and Zara did the same. Some of her team just walked off the pitch, making for the dressing room.
“Huh,” Jan said, glancing after them. “Looks as if they’re intending to have hot showers.”
Maia left the field with Zara and Jan.
“Great game, girls,” Rose said. “You did well, considering you played the last twenty minutes with one player down.”
Maia noticed Amanda hadn’t reappeared. Maia couldn’t say whether she was embarrassed, but that sort of behavior was stupid.
Amanda’s punch had allowed the opposition team a penalty from which they’d scored, and Maia’s team one player short.
It would be interesting to see how the coaches handled this and if they stood her down as punishment.
The dressing room wasn’t a happy place when Maia entered with Zara and Jan. They heard shouting and abrupt silence when they entered. Not one girl looked at them. Amanda picked up her gear bag and sauntered past.
Maia glanced at Jan and shrugged. Zara queued for the shower while Maia quickly washed with a flannel before dressing warmly.
Half an hour later, the team boarded their bus and headed for the airport.
No one said much, and Maia wondered if she’d erred in taking the Dunedin contract.
But no. Jan and Zara were great. So was Rebecca.
She’d go ahead with her plan to invite the team to a barbecue once they won their first game.
Amanda wasn’t working as captain. They needed someone else.
Jan, probably, since she’d had the girls playing more cohesively.
“We have an hour before we need to get to the gate,” Rose said after she’d checked them in. “Don’t be late because I’m not running around looking for you.”
Jan wandered over to Maia. “Zara and I are going to grab a coffee. Want to come?”
“Sounds good.”
“You played a fantastic game,” Maia said once they’d settled at an empty table with coffee and a cake each. “I didn’t like to say anything in the dressing room because the atmosphere was oppressive. Is it always like that?”
“Our team used to be superb. We played and socialized together, but the older players left, and the dynamics changed,” Zara said. “It will come right. It always does. The coach just needs to get the right balance of players.”
Maia blinked because, from where she sat, their team was a hot mess. She texted Henry before boarding the plane, letting him know they were on time and they’d lost the game.
A return text came. How did you go?
She understood what he meant. No problems, she texted back before pocketing her phone.
Maia sat with Zara and Jan on the flight home. They’d attended the same school as Rebecca and had come up the ranks together.
The plane landed, and Maia grabbed her bag. It didn’t take long to deplane, and she spotted Henry easily.
“See you at training,” she said to her new friends and with a wave, headed for Henry.
Henry didn’t strike her as a demonstrative man, but he surprised her, grabbing her in a hug. “I was worried. I’m glad you came through the game unscathed.”
She squeezed him tight in return. “What’s for dinner? I’m hungry, and I can’t wait to grab a shower.”
“Didn’t you have one after the game?” Henry asked.
“The showers were busy. I washed as best I could and dressed warmly. I am not used to the colder weather.”
“Megan invited us to dinner,” Henry said. “You can shower in my rooms and grab my clothes if needed.”
“Are you sure?”
“If you’re tired, we can stay the night at my place. I’ll make sure you don’t get cold.”
His wink had her grinning, and she was still smiling when they left the airport for Middlemarch.