Chapter 19 Nick
NINETEEN
NICK
It was still dark outside when a knock on the door woke us up.
“Driveway’s clear,” a gruff voice shouted from the front door. I couldn’t tell whether it was Jack Jr. or Sr.
“Evie.” I extricated my arm from beneath her body and shook out the pins and needles. I checked my phone, it was five thirty in the morning. “The driveway is clear.”
Evie murmured into my T-shirt. We’d gone to sleep fully clothed. “What time is it?” She shot up. “Oh no. Did I miss breakfast?”
“Shh. Don’t worry, it’s only five thirty.”
Her body relaxed. “Thank God.”
“What’s the special of the day today?” I asked. The fire needed to be stoked, but I was so cozy under the covers with Evie, I didn’t want to make the move down the ladder.
She grinned. “You’re going to like this one. It’s called the Fallen Eagle. It’s an omelet made with duck eggs though, not eagles’ eggs.”
I shook my head. “Oh, GJ. Let me guess. The name has something to do with the game tonight.”
“Of course it does.” Evie sat up and bolted out of bed to peer over the railing. “Oh good, the dog is still here.”
“Can you train him to put another log on the fire?” I reluctantly pulled back the duvet.
Evie climbed down the ladder, waking up the dog. He stretched and then stood with his paws on the bottom rung, wagging his scruffy tail as she descended. “Good morning, handsome.”
“Hey,” I called over the railing. “I didn’t get called handsome this morning.”
“That’s because you don’t have cute ear hair like this guy.” Evie rubbed the dog’s ears. “What are you going to do with him?” she asked.
“Me?” I ambled down the ladder, grabbed a log, and added it to the fire. “You’re the one who found him.”
“I can’t keep him at the inn. GJ has a strict no-pets rule.”
“We all know how strict GJ’s rules are. I broke at least three of them on my first day—and she’s letting you and Eugene hijack her breakfast menu.”
Evie stepped into her winter boots. “She’s serious about that rule.
A lot of guests are allergic to dogs. We don’t even know if he’s housebroken.
” She opened the door and stepped out into the cold with the dog.
He proceeded to walk ten steps into the snow, do his business, and then run back to Evie.
She rubbed her hands together as the two of them came back inside.
“It looks like he is housebroken,” I said. The bark on the log crackled as it caught on fire. I adjusted the damper on the woodstove and rubbed at the goose bumps on my arms.
“We should name him.” Evie scooped more of Mrs. L’s casserole into a bowl and filled up the other with water.
“Evie. He probably has a name and a home. We should go to the vet and see if he is microchipped. We can also go to the animal shelter—”
“No!” she interrupted. “We aren’t taking Rocky to the shelter.”
“Rocky?” I poured two glasses of water and passed her one.
“He’s a fighter. What do you think, do you like Rocky?” She put on a goofball voice and of course the damn dog responded. He jumped on her and wagged his tail. “See, he likes it.”
“Evie.” I hated to be the buzzkill, but someone had to be realistic. She lived at an inn with a strict no-dogs policy; I was leaving town and heading back to my crappy high-rise apartment. “Neither of us is in a position to keep him. We need to find out if he has a family.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I know. It’s just…what if he doesn’t have a family.” That’s when it hit me, the dog represented more than just…a dog.
I handed her the dry coveralls. “I’ll keep him here for now.
But I’m going to see if he’s chipped. I’ll post on some of the local community social media pages.
Rocky, I mean, the dog, looked up at me with his cute brown eyes.
His tail banged out a happy rhythm against one of the dining room chairs. I put on my jacket and boots.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m walking you to your car.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Evie. You’re a beautiful, independent woman, I get that. But what would you say if you knew that it made people happy to help you?”
Her head jerked back. She was surprised by my comment. “I don’t need help.”
“I know.” I reached for her hand and rubbed the back of it with my thumb. “You don’t need help, but it makes me happy to help you.”
She stood in silence for a moment, Rocky looking back and forth between us. “Well, if it makes you happy…I guess it makes me happy too.” The dog’s tail started wagging again. “And Rocky would probably like to go for a walk too.”
I put the headlamp on over my wool hat. “You’ve got to stop calling him Rocky. You can’t get attached to him.”
Evie looked at me as she rested her hand on the dog’s head. “Too late,” she whispered.
After walking Evie to her car, Rocky and I returned to the cabin. “Well, pal. Let’s see if we can find your family.” He yawned, turned in a circle, and fell asleep on the rug in front of the fire.
I laughed. “All right. I’ll do my chores here and then we’re going into town.”
All day I thought about Evie. I also thought about my own life.
Hockey had been everything. When I hadn’t had a family, I’d had the game.
Was I chasing the camaraderie and family that the team gave me and not the hockey itself?
When I was with Evie it felt just as good, if not better than the game.
Was it possible that I wanted to make it to the NHL to feel like I belonged to something?
After the alpacas’ stalls were cleaned, I pulled out some carrots and laughed at their ridiculous lips as they chewed.
Muriel made me another casserole and sent me back to the cabin with two tubs of Tupperware.
One for me and one for Rocky. The Lumbers had never seen Rocky before but guessed from his skinny condition that he was likely an abandoned hunting dog.
That hurt my heart.
Hours later, I was spent. Farm work was no joke. If I did this full time I’d be ripped, and probably too tired to play hockey.
Still, I followed through with the search for Rocky’s owner. The dog sat in the passenger seat of Berta, his ear hair flowing in the breeze from the truck’s vents. The heat was on full blast, but frost still crept across the windshield.
My phone buzzed as I headed back to the ranch. Rocky tilted his head as the duck quacking sound came from the phone’s speakers. I gulped when I saw the name on the display.
“Hi, Logan.”
“I heard that you’ve got a dog.” He laughed.
“What the hell? How do you know that?”
“You posted on the Chance Rapids community page this morning. Everybody in town knows.”
I sighed. “Yet, no one has claimed him.”
“Yeah. It happens every year. These hunting dogs show up and they rarely ever get claimed. I blame the fuckers that come here from the city. If the dogs run off, they don’t look for them, they just leave and go back to the city.”
Rocky curled up on the passenger seat. I gave him a pat on his side. “I still can’t believe people would do that. I’ll give someone a few days before I take him to the shelter. He isn’t microchipped.”
There was a pause on the line. Evie would be devastated, but I couldn’t keep the dog—neither could she. “It’s a good thing to have a dog in your life, Nick. Especially if you’re going to live here. They’re good company.”
I was glad that Logan wasn’t in the truck with me and Rocky. I knew that our days together were numbered, and I was doing my best not to get attached to him. “What can I do for you, Logan?” I cleared my throat, changing the subject.
“I need a hand tomorrow. I coach the Triple-A team and we need a goalie for practice. I thought that you might like the extra practice on the outdoor rink.”
Before I could reply, Logan added, “I’ll pay you.”
He didn’t have to pay me, but I’d take it. “Sure, boss. I’d be happy to help out.”
“Thanks, Nick. I’ll send you a text with the details. Oh, and leave a little extra time to get to the Windswan game tonight. That storm last night has left the roads a mess.”
I assured Logan that I would take my time on the drive to game two, then hung up the phone.
Rocky stretched and yawned as we slowed to turn down the Lumber’s driveway.
Last night’s storm did more than mess up the roads.
It had messed up my mind. I was throwing the Christmas Classic to better my life.
Without the ten grand and the scout connections, all I had was a dingy apartment and a league suspension.
But another thought went through my mind. It was something I’d never considered.
Could I stay in Chance Rapids?
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I muttered. I had to forget about Evie, the friendly Rapidians, and Rocky.
When we got back to the cabin, I emptied the small bag of groceries that would get me through to Sunday night. I didn’t need a big jug of milk, or a full loaf of bread. I was only going to be in town for two more days.