by Jennie Marts
Jesse shook his head. “I don’t feel brave. I’ve never felt brave a day in my life. All I feel is scared. All the time. I’m scared he’ll come back. And I’m scared he won’t. I’m scared of him coming home, and I’m scared he’ll never come home again. I’m scared he’ll find me and beat the shit out of me, and I’m scared he won’t find me because he doesn’t care enough about me to look.”
“That’s rough. But everything you’re saying still makes sense. It’s hard when you have a father like Rank. It’s hard to love a man like that.”
“I didn’t say I love him. How could I love a guy who nearly killed my mom? He knocks my head against a wall as easy as he passes the salt. He’s punched me more times than he’s hugged me. What kind of stupid asshole would that make me if I still loved a guy like that?”
“It wouldn’t make you a stupid asshole. It would make you a son. A son who keeps giving his dad a chance. That right there is what being brave is all about.”
The boy shook his head and picked at a seam on his jeans. His head was bent so low, his chin practically touched his chest.
“I mean it, kid. I think you have more courage than you realize. And it takes courage to love someone. You gotta be strong to put yourself out there. Especially when you know there is a good chance they might not love you back.”
“Love is stupid. I don’t get why everyone is always getting so worked up over this love deal. If you ask me, love sucks. It doesn’t make you feel good. It only makes you feel like shit. Like someone reached inside your chest and ripped your dang heart right out. Why would anyone wish for that?”
“Because it’s not always like that. Sometimes it’s pretty great.”
“I wouldn’t know about that.”
“Sure you would. I’ve seen your family and the way you kids take care of each other and your mom. And I’ve seen the way your mom is with you kids. It’s obvious you love each other, and she loves you. It’s a tough deal she’s got—hard to be both parents—but I know she’s doing the best she can.”
Jesse shrugged again. If shrugging were an Olympic sport, this kid would take home the gold. “Whatever.”
“Well, I can tell you being lonely and cutting yourself off from everyone is a lot more painful than taking a chance and letting yourself love someone.”
And letting someone love you.
Another shrug.
“Nothing good ever comes easy, kid. Just like in hockey, you can’t win games if you don’t train and play hard and give it all you got. And sometimes it feels like you’re stuck in the penalty box or you’re afraid or you never even get a chance to get off the bench. But I can tell you—you’re never going to win if you don’t get out on the ice and actually play the game.”
“What if I don’t care about the game? If I never sign up for hockey at all, I’ll never lose a game.”
“If you never sign up, you’ll for sure never get a chance to experience what it feels like to play.”
“This is all stupid. Life isn’t some dumb hockey game. And from what I’ve seen, sometimes it’s easier to bail first than be the one who always gets left behind.”
Colt pulled up in front of the Johnson’s house.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate the ride,” Jesse said, opening the passenger door before the truck had even come to a full stop. He’d apparently had enough of this mushy heart-to-heart talk.
“See ya, kid. And you want my advice, stay away from Rank. It won’t matter what you tell him. He’s not the kind of guy who listens to anyone else anyway.”
Jesse gave him one last shrug, then slammed the truck door and trudged up to his house.
Colt watched him go in and shut the door, then his eyes cut to Chloe’s yard. Nothing seemed amiss, and except for the front porch light and a small glow of the aqua nightlight he knew she kept on in the kitchen, the house looked dark and buttoned down.
His chest ached as he wished he could walk across the yard and through the new front door he’d just installed. He also wished he could drop his clothes and climb naked into bed with her and curl her body against his. But he couldn’t. And he didn’t know if he ever would again.
Was this morose, shrugging teenager right? Was it better to leave before he got left? And had he already been doing that? Already been pushing her away?
Chloe came from the same kind of home life Jesse did. So, had she been doing that to him? Was that what this afternoon had really been about—Chloe pushing him away? Had the combination of her coworkers mocking her and him tossing her dad’s things sent her over the edge? Was she using the garage and her insecurity issues as an excuse to leave him before she got hurt?
All this conjecture and speculation hurt his head. Jesse was right about one thing though. Love could suck. Colt felt like he’d gone two rounds with a bull and come out on the losing side. His heart hurt, his body ached. He just needed to go to bed and think about this in the morning. Somehow things always seemed better when you examined them in the light of day.
He gave Chloe’s house a last once-over, then put the truck in gear and headed for the ranch.
* * *
The next morning started cloudy and gray and accurately reflected how Colt felt as he set about to do his morning chores. He’d been neglecting a few things at the ranch in order to help Chloe and had more than enough to keep him busy. It was good to use his muscles, to haul bales and swing a hammer to repair a wall in the barn, to sweat out some of his frustration and aggravation. But the work only required his brawn and left his brain unattended to think and stew and fester over what he was going to do about Chloe.
As if it were a dried scab, he spent the morning picking and scratching at it, until he felt like the whole thing with her had turned into an open bloody wound. And that was not the way he figured a good relationship should be described.
But the more he festered, the more heated he got until he was slamming things around and ready to throw in the whole towel. He didn’t need this kind of grief. He had shit to do, a ranch to help run. All this thing with Chloe was doing was messing with his head and keeping him from getting his work done.
She had her car fixed now so he didn’t need to be running into town to ferry her around, which worked in his favor. The more he could stay away from her right now, the better. Breaking this thing off, if there was even anything left to break, was going to be tough enough. He knew it had to be done, that he had to get out before he got in any deeper and really got stuck. Just like driving his pickup through the mud, the faster he went, the less likely he was to get mired down in it.
He’d made the decision to call it quits, and now he needed to stick with it. The real tough part was going to be getting through the next several weeks of hockey practice. But he’d make sure Logan came with him and could partner the two of them up to work with the kids and keep him and Chloe focused on different lines and out of each other’s way. Yeah, this would work out fine.
Sure, keep telling yourself that, buddy.
He needed to take a break for lunch and from all this thinking. It made his head hurt. He whistled for the dog and made his way back to the cabin. They were predicting snow, and a few light flurries spun in the air. Colt rubbed a hand over his chilled neck and realized Chloe still had his good blue scarf. That would be awkward trying to get that back. Oh well, she could keep it. It looked better on her anyway.
Watson ran into the cabin ahead of him, and Colt pushed the door shut with his foot as he shrugged out of his coat and hung it on an empty peg. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and for the briefest of seconds, his hopes lifted that it was her. Shit. He needed to get over that business right now.
He pulled his phone free and frowned at the screen. Denver area code, but he didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello. This is Colt.”
“Hey, Colt. This is Joe Forsberg. I’m the head defensive coach with
the Colorado Summit. We met the other night when I was at the game with your brother and his boy.”
“Oh sure. I remember. But if you’re looking for Rock, I’m pretty sure he’s down in Denver today. Did you try his cell phone?”
“No. I’m not looking for Rock. I’m actually hoping to talk to you.”
“To me? Why’s that?”
“I was thinking about what you said the other night at practice. Remember when you were talking about how you were spending a little extra time with a few of the kids, building up their confidence, making them feel more like part of the team, that sort of thing?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I got to thinking about that, and we got a couple of rookies in the draft this year who I think have some really great potential, and I think they could benefit from a little of that specialized attention. And I was thinking you might be the guy to help with that.”
“Me? I’m not sure why you would want me, but I guess I could help. I’m a big fan of the team and usually have a little wager on the Summit making a run for the Cup. And I already do a lot of volunteer stuff. I could probably give them some time, if you think I could help.”
Joe chuckled. “Well, I appreciate your offer to volunteer your time, but I was thinking more along the lines of a paid position. We’d like to schedule an interview and have you meet the team, of course. But we’re looking to add you to the coaching staff, if everything works out and that’s something you think you might be interested in.”
Colt opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn’t know what to say. His knees threatened to give way, and he sank onto the edge of the couch. After his accident, he’d thought his career in hockey was over. He’d never dreamed he’d have a chance to be a part of the sport again in a coaching capacity.
“Hello? You still there?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m still here. And I think that sounds great. I’d love to meet with you and the guys. Rock talks a lot about the team, and he says they’re a great bunch of people to work with.”
“Good. That’s real good. Listen, I know it’s short notice, but we’re having a special practice tonight followed by a team dinner. A couple of the head honchos will be there, and I think it will be a great opportunity for you to get to meet everyone and spend some time with them both on and off the ice. What do you think?”
“I think that sounds great.”
“About six o’clock then? At the stadium. I can text you the address. Do you need directions?”
“No, sir. I’ve been there with Rock. I know where it is.”
“Great. We’ll see you tonight then. And we’re excited about making you part of the team.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Colt disconnected the call and sank back against the cushions. Part of the team. Part of the motherfreakin’ Colorado Summit team. The NHL. This was it. The big time. What he’d always dreamed of. Maybe not the way he’d dreamed it, but after all he’d been through, this was the best chance he had to still be a part of the team.
A smile cracked across his face, and he let out a whoop. Watson barked, getting in on the excitement as he ran over to grab a tennis ball from his box of toys.
Colt’s smile fell as he realized he’d said yes without hesitation and without even considering if he had other plans for the night. And he did have other plans. He had plans with his real team, the one he’d committed to first. The eight-and-unders had their first game tonight.
But this was his chance. He had to take it. And the kids still had Logan and Chloe. He wasn’t leaving them all alone.
This morning he’d thought the curse was in full swing, that losing Chloe was what he was due and that his chance at happiness was once again slipping through his fingers. But maybe the curse was coming to an end. Maybe there was no stupid curse. Or maybe the curse only applied to his love life.
Because he’d just been offered a coaching position with the NHL.
The decision to go to the interview would change everything. He’d spent the morning making the call to break things off with Chloe, but taking this job, deserting the team for their very first game, leaving her to clean up the aftermath of his decision, that all would clinch the deal. There was no turning back from that.
He would gain the job, gain his dream to work in the NHL, but he would lose the girl, lose any chance he had at building a future with her.
He’d never really had a chance with her anyway, he tried to convince himself.
So that was a risk he’d have to take.
Chapter 22
Chloe paced the length of the bleachers and back. She checked her watch. Again. Where the h-e-double-hockey-sticks was Colt?
He should have been here by now, should have been here thirty minutes ago. She’d called his phone three times and left him two messages. Surely he wouldn’t desert her, or the kids, for their first game—which could only mean that something had happened to him, and he was lying in a ditch somewhere bleeding out. Which was better than imagining he was lying in a bed somewhere curled up naked with Ashley.
Stop it. He wouldn’t do that.
Well, who the heck really knew? She hadn’t known him all that long. Maybe that is something he’d do. But she didn’t think so. He might let her down, but there was no way he’d let these kids down. Which sent her back into a tailspin of imagining him still in the ditch, bleeding and hurt.
Logan came out of the locker room, a grim expression on his face. He took her elbow and pulled her to the side.
Oh no. Here it came—the bad news. She steeled herself to hear what hospital Colt was being sent to.
“He’s not coming,” Logan said.
“Why? What happened? Where is he?”
“He’s on his way to Denver. He’s got an appointment.”
“An appointment? What the fork are you talking about? What kind of appointment is more important than this game with these kids?”
Logan shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him. But don’t worry. We’ve got this.”
That wasn’t the point. The point was Colt should be here.
The kids filed out of the locker room and onto the ice to warm up. They had ten minutes before the game started. Chloe looked around, her stomach sinking like she’d swallowed a rock.
Maddie wasn’t here either. And she hadn’t seen her all afternoon. Tina’s car hadn’t been in the driveway when she’d pulled out of her shiny clean garage.
Now that it was done and she’d parked her car in there, the new organized garage was pretty amazing. She’d hoped to tell Colt again tonight how sorry she was and how much she truly appreciated being able to park in the garage, especially with the snow, which had been falling all afternoon. Plus, her engine was running better than ever. She had a feeling Justin had worked on more than just the door. She’d called him earlier to thank him for doing such a great job on her car and invited him to bring Spencer and Milo to tonight’s game. She’d have to find him later and thank him again. The conversation with the mechanic would be much easier than the one with Colt.
Especially since Colt wasn’t here. And neither was Maddie. What was going on?
Her anxiety was shooting through the roof, but it wasn’t just worry anymore. Now she was getting good and mad. She stepped behind the bleachers and tried Colt’s phone one more time.
“Hello?”
Finally. Relief tinged with irritation swirled in her chest, and she tried not to grit her teeth as she spoke his name. “Colt? Where are you? The game is starting in five minutes.”
“Didn’t Logan tell you? I’m not coming to the game.”
Her fingers cramped as she clutched the phone tightly to her ear. “What could you possibly be doing that is more important than this game?”
“I’m going to a job interview. In Denver.”
She sucked in her breath, and the side of her face went tingly.
“A job interview? What kind of job?”
“It’s a coaching position. With the Colorado Summit.”
“A coaching position?”
“Yeah, with the NHL. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime offer. I had to try for it.”
“And leave everything else behind?”
“What everything else? I’m missing one game, and you and Logan can easily field it without me.”
She swallowed. He sounded different—his voice more callous, and he hadn’t mentioned her or anything about them. Maybe that was because he hadn’t given any thought to them. Or maybe there wasn’t a “them” to even think about it. This didn’t really seem the time to be hashing out their relationship, not with the game starting and her working up a good steam of mad. But she had to know—had been dying to know. Had been waiting all day for the game to get a clue to where they stood. And now the only way she would know was to ask. “What about us?”
“What ‘us’? You made it pretty clear yesterday in the garage and again when you left the restaurant last night that you didn’t want anything to do with me, so I’m respecting your wishes and giving you what you wanted.”
What she wanted? Or what he wanted? “But…”
But what? What could she say? She wasn’t convinced there was an “us” either. Or if she even wanted there to be. Her heart ached, but what else was there to say? He obviously wasn’t interested in fighting for them, and she’d already decided she didn’t need the distraction and agitation of the chaos he brought to her life. But if this is what she’d wanted, why did her chest feel like a hole had just been ripped from it? Like a spiked hand has just reached in and torn out her heart, tearing her skin and muscles and leaving a gaping, bloody hole, the edges raw and burning.
She swallowed, trying to make her voice sound somewhere in the range of normal. “Well, good luck on your interview then.”