She raised her glass to cheer with her friends. “Wish me luck,” she said wryly.
She was going to need it.
Chapter Six
Sweat dripped into Jonny's eyes as he sprinted down the pitch, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. This was it – the first match in Manchester Central's bid for the FA Cup, and he'd be damned if he let his team down. Not again. Not after missing the season opener.
His boots pounded the grass, the roar of the crowd filling his ears. He could feel the eyes of his teammates on his back, and he knew he wasn’t just imagining their skepticism. But he would show them. He'd play his heart out today and prove he belonged on this pitch as much as any of them.
The ball came flying at him, and he trapped it deftly with his chest before whipping around a Sheffield midfielder. One touch, two touches, a quick pass to Tommy. The game flowed through him, muscle memory taking over. This was where he was meant to be, and he would not let Sharpe or Will or anyone who worked for them take this away from him.
As he ran to the backfield, returning to his position, he caught a flash of red hair in the stands and his gaze flicked up for the briefest moment.
Ada.
Watching him intently, her brow furrowed slightly. Minnie and the rest of the wives sat beside her, along with a woman he didn't recognize – must be Minnie's sister, visiting from Sheffield.
While the rest of them chatted amongst themselves, Ada — and Emmaline of course — had their eyes trained on the field.
Jonny wrenched his attention back to the match just as a meaty Sheffield opposing half-back came clattering into him at full speed, taking advantage of his wandering attention.
The breath rushed out of his lungs as he went sprawling, his face mashing into the turf. Dazed, he heard the ref's whistle and the outraged shouts of his teammates.
"That's a bloody foul!" Colin yelled as Jonny staggered to his feet, spitting mud. The half-back smirked at him.
"What's wrong, Tate? Heard you were a tough bloke from the docks. Can't handle a little knock?"
Jonny wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his temper flaring hot. But before he could snap back a retort, Rhys grabbed his arm.
"Let it go, Jonny. He's trying to rile you up, throw you off your game. Don't give him the satisfaction."
Jonny nodded tightly, his jaw clenched. Rhys was right. He had to keep his head for the team. The last thing they needed after his missed first game was for him to be thrown from this one.
Shaking off the hit, he ran back into position.
The match wore on, a gritty, physical battle in the midfield, where Jonny played, the bridge between the full-backs who stayed near the goal, and the forwards, who played ahead of him. Jonny's lungs burned and his legs felt like lead, but he never let up, harrying the Sheffield players relentlessly.
As time began to wind down, he spotted an opening. Rhys sent a long ball arcing across the pitch. Jonny anticipated thebounce, leapt, and smashed a header, landing the ball at Colin’s feet before he sent it flying toward the goal. The ball bulleted past the diving keeper and into the net.
"Yes!" he roared as his teammates mobbed him and Colin, all distrust forgotten in the elation of a goal that should, hopefully, secure their first victory. Sheffield was a tough opponent this early in the season, but Manchester Central had been playing together long enough that they didn’t need a great deal of time to get their rhythm back.
The final whistle blew, and Jonny bent over, hands on his knees, catching his breath. They'd done it – a hard-fought 2-1 victory. Not pretty, but a win was a win. He felt a clap on his back and looked up to see Tommy grinning at him.
"Well played, mate. Knew you had it in you."
Jonny returned the grin wearily. "Thanks. Felt good to be out there again."
As they made their way off the pitch, Jonny couldn't help but glance up into the stands again. Ada was on her feet, applauding with the others, but her eyes seemed to bore into him, filled with unspoken questions. He quickly looked away before she read into anything she might see there and guess at his intentions.
In the changing room, the mood was boisterous as the team celebrated the win. But Rhys called for quiet, his expression serious.
"Good result today, but we can't get complacent. Sheffield exposed some weaknesses we need to address before the next round. And Jonny..."
Jonny met the captain's gaze, bracing himself.
"Glad to have you back. But miss another match without explanation and you're done. Clear?"
Jonny nodded curtly. "Clear."
