Chapter 21 Nick
TWENTY-ONE
NICK
I’d played on outdoor rinks before, but none as impressive as the setup for the Chance Rapids Christmas Classic.
Stands soared high all around the perfectly polished ice surface.
After the practice with the Triple-A guys, a Zamboni scrubbed away all evidence of our amazing skating.
A portable dressing room that was almost as nice as the one at the rink stood at each end of the rink, one for each team.
The sound system was impressive, and TV crews were already setting up for tomorrow’s game.
“I am impressed.” I sat on the bench next to Logan after leaving my hockey gear in the dressing room. I was going to be back in less than twenty-four hours to play with the Bobcats.
“The mayor here is excellent at submitting grants.” Logan leaned on his elbows and stared at the ice.
“I meant the Triple-A players. There are a few kids on that team that have some serious potential.”
Logan grinned. “I’ve been working with most of those kids for their entire career.”
“It shows. If half of those guys stick around to play for the Bobcats, they will be unstoppable.”
“You’re good with the younger players.” Logan sat up and rubbed his chin. “Have you ever considered coaching?”
The practice session had been amazing. I was able to connect with a few of the players.
Watching them take my notes and put them into action was unlike any other feeling.
I was impacting their lives and potentially their careers too.
“I think I still have a few years in my own career before I go the coaching route.”
Logan took off his reading glasses. “You could do both. You could play for the Bobcats and help out with these guys. The mayor also got another grant for the assistant coach position—it pays pretty damn well.
“Let’s see what happens after tomorrow.” I didn’t want to tell Logan that I knew about the scouts.
“Tomorrow?” He screwed up his forehead.
“I mean, the townspeople could run me out of here if we lose.”
Logan chuckled. “They might.”
“At least I’d get out of the parade,” I said.
“Come on.” Logan slapped my leg and stood.
Had I gone too far with the parade comment? I was secretly hoping that he’d tell me that the Rapidians wouldn’t care if their team lost tomorrow. That wasn’t the case. I was still going to be a pariah. “Where are we going?”
“You need to see some of the town’s spirit.”
Oh, hell no. “I’m not really into any of this stuff.” Please don’t let it be caroling.
“Listen, Tinsel. Playing for the Bobcats is more than showing up at the arena for practices and game nights. This is a community, and you are going to be a part of it.”
This was worse than caroling. “Logan, I really need to get home, the dog probably needs to—”
“You can go be a grouchy hermit with your dog after we win the log sawing competition.”
Not only was Logan dragging me to one of the damn Christmas events, he wanted me to participate. “Do I have a choice?”
“Nope.” The stands shook as Logan hopped down the tiers. I followed close behind him and we practically jogged downtown.
I could hear the lumberjack competition before I saw it.
Modified chainsaws screamed as burly men with beards more impressive than Jack’s carved intricate chairs out of a log—all with a chainsaw.
Sawdust hung in the air and the crowd cheered on the wood artists, although it was unlikely that they could hear anything through their ear protection.
Across from the action, a group of women stood, entranced with the carving. “There’s my wife.” Logan pointed and then waved when the pretty brunette noticed us. “Before Charlotte comes over, I need to tell you something.”
“What’s that?” I had to shout.
“It was wrong of me to tell you to stay away from the bunnies. You’re a part of our community now, and that means you should be able to date anyone you want.” He grabbed my arm and squeezed it. “With the exception of my wife.” He winked and let go of me.
“I didn’t mean what I said about the older woman…” My voice trailed off.
Logan laughed and slapped me on the back. “I know. Now, let’s go saw some logs.”
He led me to the center of the parking lot where massive logs were arranged in rows. A sign hung across the street that read crosscut competition. “Do you need gloves?” Logan asked.
Down the line of plaid shirt–wearing, barrel-chested, shit-kicking lumberjacks, there wasn’t one pair of gloves in sight.
“I’m good. I’m a ranch hand now, didn’t you hear?” I held up my calloused hands.
“It’s Chance Rapids, of course I heard.” He winked.
“Go Logan! Go Nick!” Charlotte cheered and clapped her hands. Next to her stood a girl I recognized from the Last Chance and…how had I not seen her earlier? Blue eyes stared out from beneath the brim of a cowboy hat.
“Go Nick!” Evie shouted and waved her hat in the air. She was wearing her barn coveralls and a huge grin.
Logan pointed to the far end of the saw.
“What do I do?” I eyed the wooden handle.
“It’s not rocket science, kid. Grab on, saw the log, don’t fight me, and try to keep up.
” He adopted a wide stance with one foot forward.
I did the same, wrapping both of my hands around the wooden handle of the saw.
An older lady wearing a red sash that read mayor held one arm in the air and counted down. The crowd joined in.
“Three…two…one…” she shouted into a megaphone, then blew a whistle.
I didn’t know what Logan meant by not fighting him, but it became clear on our first botched stroke. We both pulled on our end of the saw, then both pushed. The metal blade bowed in the middle and wouldn’t budge. Our eyes met across the saw. Logan shouted, “Pull!”
I pulled. Then pushed. And pulled. When we found our rhythm, sawdust started to fly, piling up on the icy ground below the log.
Before we were done, a cheer erupted from the crowd.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched two of the lumberjacks raise their arms above their heads. “Keep going,” Logan shouted.
We didn’t win the crosscut contest, but we didn’t come in last either. When our round of wood thudded to the ground, the mayor announced our fourth-place finish through her megaphone.
“That was pretty good.” Logan patted me on the back. “Sometimes you just have to listen to your coach.”
The coach.
I liked taking instruction from Logan. Unfortunately, the next day I was going to have to listen to Coalman.
“You were amazing!” Evie rushed into the cutting area and gave me a hug.
Charlotte did the same with Logan, only he planted a kiss on her lips.
Evie and I were in a weird place. I suppose it was the friend zone, even though that’s not what either of us wanted.
She stepped back, holding her hat in place with her hand.
“Who are those guys?” I turned to look at the winners. One was huge and looked like he’d walked right in from building a cabin in the woods. The other guy was smaller and wiry but with an equally impressive beard. “Did they fly in from the lumberjack Olympics?”
Logan laughed. “There are no ringers in the Chance Rapids Carnival. That’s Freddie. He’s my brother and the best electrician in town. The other guy is Josh. He owns a log home company in town.”
I wasn’t too far off.
But Logan was. There were indeed ringers brought in for the Carnival. I was one of them.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you to Freddie. I think you two will hit it off.” Before I could protest and get the hell out of there, Logan waved his brother over. We all moved to the side of the staging area to stand around a firepit while the volunteers set up the next contest—a race of some kind.
Logan introduced me to every person around the fire. “Would you like me to make you a s’more?” Tabitha, Lauren’s daughter, asked.
Lauren, who I just learned was Logan’s sister-in-law, tilted her head and rested her hand on the young girl’s shoulder.
“I would love a s’more. I think I worked off five hundred calories in that saw contest.”
The girl smiled. She put the marshmallow on the end of the stick with such concentration that her tongue stuck out. Lauren stepped beside me and whispered, “Thank you, you don’t have to eat it. Tabitha’s usually really shy. I’m surprised she approached you like that.”
“Who wouldn’t want to eat a s’more?”
“They’re delicious,” Evie confirmed. “I’ve already had three.”
While my snack was being cooked and assembled, I chatted with Josh, Lauren, and Charlotte.
Evie stood next to me and we got a play-by-play of the outhouse race crash.
Freddie acted it out, complete with sound effects and dramatic aerobatic maneuvers.
Logan was right, I did like Freddie, but who wouldn’t—he was the group’s class clown.
When the reenactment of the crash was over, I focused my attention on Evie. “I still haven’t found Rocky’s family.”
She stuck out her bottom lip. “Can we ask the Lumbers if you can keep him? He’ll probably be right at home on the farm.”
I could see it. Rocky loved running up and down the path between the house and the cabin.
He kept a watchful eye on all of the farm animals but didn’t bother them—except for the turkeys.
I would like lunging at them, too, if I were a dog.
They made hilarious gobble sounds and their feathers flew into the air like a pillow had just exploded.
“I’m still hoping his family shows up. Hey, I like your hat.
” I changed the subject. I couldn’t keep the dog.
“Thanks!” She took it off, then snatched my Bobcats hat off my head, replacing it with the cowboy hat. She took a step back and her eyes sparkled as she nodded. “It looks good on you.”
“Don’t put that on…” I held out my hand to stop her, but she’d already put my baseball hat on her head, “your head. It’s sweaty.”
She shrugged. “I’m sweaty, I was practicing for the skijoring race before I came here.
That’s why I’m wearing this.” She smoothed out her canvas jacket by running her hands down her chest. My heart thumped and I got an instant semi.
Evie looked good in anything she wore, but there was something extra hot about her in coveralls and my baseball hat.
“You found a skier?” She was so excited about the race but needed a skier to enter.
“Yep.” She nodded. “Guess who?”
“Clementine?” She was the only skier I knew.
“Yes, and she’s amazing at it.”
“Of course she is.” That woman was a skilled skier, but part of me was nervous at the idea of an eighty-something-year-old woman being towed by a horse.
“Will you come and watch?”
I didn’t want to lie. I was already doing it to everyone in town, and now it was going to be Evie. Laughter erupted as Freddie did a handstand and Tabitha fed him a marshmallow while he was upside down. The little girl ran over to me and presented me with a s’more. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, it looks perfect.” It was hot and gooey and I finished it in two bites. “Ten out of ten.” I licked the melted chocolate off my fingers and held all of them up.
Lauren handed me a mug of hot chocolate. “I figured you might need some chocolate to wash down all that sugar.”
“Thank you.” I took a sip.
The fire crackled. The group of friends laughed and joked among each other.
Evie stood next to me, and it almost felt like we belonged.
Like we were a couple and had been living with this fun group of people since high school.
I wanted to rest my arm on her shoulder and spend the rest of the day joking around with Freddie, Logan, Josh, Lauren, and Tabitha.
They didn’t know me, yet they’d welcome me into their circle.
Someone or something tugged on the sleeve of my coat. “Shit.” Hot chocolate spilled out of my mug and dripped down my fingers onto the snow.
“Sorry, Nick.” I turned to see George, the kid I met at practice the other day. He had four other kids with him, all clutching the Chance Rapids Christmas Carnival magazine. “Hi, George, it’s okay.” I wiped my hand on my jeans, hoping that chocolate would come out in the wash.
“Hi, Nick. These are my friends. We were wondering if…”
The kid next to George held out the magazine. “Can you sign our books?”
“Only if you’ve got a pen.” I still couldn’t believe that this small-town celebrity thing was real. George took a Sharpie out of his pocket.
“I brought it in case some of the players were here today. We’re so excited for the game tomorrow. My dad said that you’re the best Bobcat goalie he’s ever seen. And that means something because he’s old.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “George’s dad is thirty-five.”
“Ancient.” I scribbled my name and jersey number in all of the programs.
“Thanks, Nick!” They took the magazines and disappeared into the crowd, probably on the hunt for more Bobcats.
“You made their day,” Evie said. “One of them was complaining that the jerseys with your name on them aren’t going to be ready in time for the game tomorrow. I bet they’ll be a big seller when they come in. I might even buy one.”
Evie wearing my jersey. I could see it. Number nine on her back, Tinsel across her shoulders, nothing underneath.
“Evie.” I slung my arm over her shoulder. “I’d love to come and watch you, Clementine, and Nutmeg win the contest on Monday. I’ll be there with cowbells to cheer you on.”
“How did you know there will be cowbells?”
“I may have looked up a few skijoring videos online. You’re going to be incredible at it.”
The kiss just happened. I didn’t think about it, and I don’t think that she did either. The crowd disappeared as I crooked my elbow, bringing Evie’s lips to mine. It was as natural as walking and felt as good as catching a slap shot to win a game.
When the kiss was over, there was no cheering or smart-ass comments from the group.
Charlotte smiled at us, but to everyone else, it wasn’t a big deal.
It was as natural to them as it was to us.
That’s the moment I knew that I wasn’t going to throw the game.
I was kind of falling for Chance Rapids, and I was definitely falling for Evie.
“I need to get home.” My arm was still slung over her shoulders, and she’d wrapped hers around my back. “Rocky might have eaten all the furniture in the cabin by now.”
“Oh.” Beneath my arm, her body slumped.
“Would you like to come with me?”