CHAPTER EIGHT #2
Beck grinned, clearly delighted. "You're welcome, kiddo. Did you know you're the bravest six-year-old in Amber Falls?"
"Almost seven," Casey corrected automatically, then seemed to remember where she was and who she was talking to. Her cheeks flushed pink.
Aaron Waters stepped forward next, presenting a Shadow Wolves ball cap covered in signatures. "From the entire team," he announced with a wink. "Welcome to the family."
The other players followed with their own gifts: a team pennant, a puck from their last home game, a tiny replica of the championship trophy. Casey received each one with increasing disbelief, the trauma from yesterday momentarily forgotten.
I stood back, watching the scene unfold. These professional athletes had shown up because I'd asked them to. Because Casey mattered.
"Did you really fall through the ice?" one of the younger players asked.
Casey nodded solemnly. "It was super cold and dark. But Uncle Easton jumped in and got me out."
She'd almost slipped and said "Easton" but had caught herself at the last second, glancing at Palisade with uncertainty.
"That's what teammates do," Beck said, ruffling Casey's hair with gentle affection. "We look out for each other. And now that you're part of the team, we’ll look out for you too."
Casey's face lit up. "Really?"
"Really," Beck confirmed. "Which is why we're having a special scrimmage this afternoon. Just for you."
From across the room, I caught Palisade's eye. She was watching the scene with tears shining, and when our gazes met, she mouthed ‘thank you’ again.
I nodded, but the truth was, I wasn't doing this for thanks. I was doing it because making Casey smile felt more important than anything else.
After about twenty minutes of hockey talk and laughter, a nurse appeared in the doorway with discharge papers. The players said their goodbyes, promising to see Casey at the arena that afternoon.
When they filed out, Casey clutched her stuffed wolf and looked up at me with absolute adoration.
"Best day ever," she declared. "Even with the hospital part."
Palisade laughed. It was a full, unguarded sound I'd rarely heard since we reconnected. That laugh made her tilt her head back slightly and crinkle the corners of her eyes.
My chest felt tight, but not in the angry way I was used to. This was different.
Unfamiliar.
My chest clenched, and I still didn't understand the reason behind it when I saw both Casey and Palisade happy.
Palisade
That afternoon, as we walked through the empty corridors of the Shadow Wolves arena, Casey's hand tightened in mine.
"Mom, are you sure this is okay?" she asked quietly, her voice small in the vast hallway. "What if… what if I get scared?"
I stopped and crouched down to her level, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Then we leave. No pressure, baby. But I think you're braver than you know."
"Uncle Easton said he'd be right there with me," Casey said, as if reminding herself. As if his presence were a talisman against fear.
"He will be. He promised, didn't he?"
Casey nodded, squaring her small shoulders with a determination that made my heart squeeze.
We emerged from the tunnel into the vast arena, and the familiar chill of the ice rink washed over us. Casey's muscles tensed immediately, her grip on my hand turning almost painful. The temperature drop, the smell of ice and Zamboni exhaust, the echo of the space hit her at once.
Maybe this was too soon.
Was the memory of cold water closing over her head, of darkness and panic still too fresh?
But then Easton skated into view, already in full gear minus his helmet, and his face broke into a grin that could light up the entire arena.
"There they are!" His voice echoed across the empty stands, warm and welcoming.
Behind him, about a dozen Shadow Wolves players glided across the ice, casually passing pucks.
They weren't in game uniforms, just practice jerseys and casual gear, but the sight still made Casey gasp beside me.
The rhythmic sound of skates cutting ice, sticks tapping pucks, players calling out to each other.
These were the sounds of a sport she loved.
"What is all this?" I asked as Easton stopped at the boards in front of us, slightly breathless from skating.
"Like I said earlier, private team scrimmage," he explained, eyes twinkling as he looked at Casey. "And we need someone very important to drop the ceremonial first puck."
"Me?" Casey's voice came out barely above a whisper.
"Who else?" Easton leaned against the boards, eye level with her now. "The team's honorary member has to do it. It's tradition."
Casey's face flickered with apprehension when she looked past Easton to the gleaming ice surface beyond. Her breathing quickened slightly, as if fighting the urge to step back.
"You don't have to go far," Easton said softly, clearly having noticed her hesitation too. His voice softened. "Just a couple of steps from the gate. And I'll be right there with you the whole time. I won't let go of your hand unless you tell me to."
Casey looked up at me, uncertainty written all over her face.
"Your choice, baby," I said quietly. "No one will be disappointed if you're not ready."
She bit her lip and then looked back at Easton. "Okay," she said, her voice stronger now. "I can do it."
"That's my girl," I said, unable to keep the pride from my voice.
A young man in a suit appeared with a gleaming black puck. The silver team logo caught the arena lights, making it look almost magical. He crouched down to Casey's level with an encouraging smile.
"This is a special puck," he told her. "It's got your name engraved on the bottom. See?" He turned it over to show her.
Casey Honors - Honorary Shadow Wolf
Casey's eyes went wide, and she took the puck with the reverence usually reserved for religious artifacts.
"Ready for your big moment?" he asked.
She nodded, clutching the puck to her chest.
We helped Casey onto the ice, and I held my breath as she took those first tentative steps. Her skates touched the frozen surface, and her whole body went rigid. Her free hand clutched at my jacket, and for a second, I thought she might bolt.
Then Easton was there, offering his gloved hand.
"I've got you, kiddo," he said, his voice calm and sure. "Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise.”
Casey looked at his outstretched hand for a long moment. The war between her fear and trust was written on her face.
Finally, slowly, she placed her small hand in his much larger one.
"That's it," Easton encouraged. "Just like that. Now, we're going to skate together, nice and easy. You set the pace."
They started moving, and I stayed at the gate, watching my daughter conquer her fear one glide at a time. Easton matched her pace perfectly, never rushing her, his protective presence radiating calm.
As they made their way to center ice, the other players formed a loose circle around them. Then, as if on some unspoken cue, they began tapping their sticks against the ice in a slow, steady rhythm.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound echoed through the arena, building in intensity. It was a salute, a welcome, an acknowledgment of Casey's bravery—the traditional hockey greeting for someone who'd earned respect.
Casey's head snapped up, her eyes wide with wonder. The fear that had tightened her features melted away, replaced by something that looked like awe.
At center ice, Beck Hamilton and another player positioned themselves, sticks ready. Casey stood between them, looking impossibly small beside these professional athletes. Easton released her hand but stayed close, ready to catch her if she faltered.
"Whenever you're ready," Beck told her gently.
Casey looked at the puck in her hands with her name engraved on the bottom, making her part of something bigger than herself. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders one more time, and held the puck high.
Then she dropped it between the two sticks.
The arena erupted. Players cheered and banged their sticks against the ice. A few of them whistled. The sound was deafening and glorious, and Casey's face transformed into pure, radiant joy.
Easton scooped her up in his arms, spinning her once before setting her back on her skates. "You did it!" he exclaimed. "That was perfect!"
Together, they skated back toward the gate, Easton's hand never leaving her shoulder. When they reached me, Casey was glowing.
"I did it!" she exclaimed, launching herself at me despite still being on skates. I caught her, stumbling slightly but holding tight. "Mom, did you see? I was on the ice, and it was okay! It didn't hurt me this time!"
"I saw, baby. You were so brave." I looked over her head at Easton, trying to convey something deeper I wasn't ready to name. "Thank you," I mouthed.
He smiled and winked before skating back to join his teammates.
A plus-sized blonde woman with a sleek ponytail and Shadow Wolves staff jacket approached, introducing herself as Brenna.
"Let me show you to your suite," she said warmly. "We've got hot chocolate and snacks ready with the best view in the house."
She led us up through the arena corridors to a private box suite.
The moment we walked in, Casey gasped. The room was arranged for a small celebration, complete with a table overflowing with treats, a hot chocolate bar including all the trimmings, and gigantic windows offering a view of the icy expanse below.
"This is for us?" Casey asked, her eyes wide. She looked from me to Brenna, and the buffet of treats and hot chocolate scattered around us.
"All for you," Brenna confirmed with a wide smile. "Easton's orders."
As Casey settled into one of the plush seats with her hot chocolate and extra marshmallows, the scrimmage began below.
The players were clearly keeping it casual, but their skill was still mesmerizing.
Every few minutes, one of them would look up at our box and wave at Casey, or execute some flashy move clearly meant to impress her.