Page 25 of Breaking the Ice

Troy and Kelly’s house is everything I could dream of in a home. It’s a huge two-story log house that blends into the landscape so seamlessly it looks like it grew straight out of the ground like a complicated tree. I let myself through the front door without calling out a greeting and head in the direction of the formal dining room where Kelly and I have been collecting basket items.

The baskets are dark-straw weave with a large handle over the top. I start pulling them apart and lining them across the table. Then I put in a royal blue hand towel before placing four bottles of water in the back. I roll the t-shirts next before inserting the food and additional items. Finally, I tuck in all the brochures for fun things our visitors can do in their downtime.

This really is the best time of year to visit Maple Falls. The town’s population triples because of the fall festival alone. I mean, who doesn’t love music, corn mazes, apple bobbing, and every caramelly treat you can imagine? My favorite is the caramel corn with macadamia nuts and pecans that Shirley May makes. Add to that our killer farmers’ market that Kiki runs, and the insanely gorgeous foliage that comes with this time of year, and you can’t lose.

I imagine this year’s festival is going to be the biggest success ever due to all the well-known hockey players who will be temporarily calling Maple Falls their home. I start to wonder if some hottie might catch my eye, when an image of Zachary Hart pops into my head. I sternly tell myself, not him! I want to meet someone eligible—not someone who toys with women like he does.

I finish stuffing the baskets with more force than necessary. So much so, I need to reshape several cereal treats. When I’m done, I tie the blue and red ribbons Kelly and I had previously assembled onto the front of the containers.

Kelly still hasn’t come down by the time I’m done, so I take out my camera and shoot an array of pictures to text to her so she knows how nicely our efforts turned out. Then I start taking trips out to my car and fill every inch of open space with hockey swag.

By the time I get to the arena, I’m full of excitement. It’s going to be fun being surrounded by famous hockey players and all that entails. I imagine there will be assorted family members, although, according to Troy, only four of the guys on the team are married. The Ice Breakers primarily consist of bachelors, which has the single gals of Maple Falls chit-chatting in overdrive.

There aren’t many cars here today because Troy closed the rink to prepare for tomorrow’s press conference. Even though he only expects a small number to start, that’s sure to grow once the games begin.

When I walk inside, I discover a crew of folks hanging Ice Breaker signs and banners. The team logo is a hockey puck with a broken ice mountain above it. It’s really cool.

As I turn to go into the business office, I see Yolanda Simms. I’m about to have a serious fangirl moment and run up to her and tell her how much I love watching her on television, but decide to hold back. There’s something about her that doesn’t seem all that approachable.

Walking into the office, I flip on the light and proceed to scream like I’m being attacked by a pack of wolves. Zach is sitting in one of the chairs.

He leaps out of the chair before demanding, “What did you do that for?”

“What, scream?”

“Yes.” He looks positively wild-eyed like I scared him as much as he scared me.

“Oh, I don’t know …” I drop my purse on the desk across from him. “It might have had something to do with you sitting in a dark office like a predator ready to pounce on your prey.”

He runs his fingers through his thick brown hair before sitting back down. “I was thinking.”

“In the dark?”

“Why not in the dark?” he demands. “It’s more peaceful.”

“What could you possibly be thinking about in the dark?” My tone indicates I’m borderline calling him a dullard, as though the man is incapable of intelligent thought.

“If you must know, I’m contemplating an investment I’m about to make.”

While the answer sounds plausible, given his business acumen, something in his eyes makes me think he’s lying. That’s when it hits me. “You’re not thinking, you’re hiding from Yolanda Simms!”

The faint flush that pops up on his face confirms my suspicion. Yet even so, I’m surprised when he confesses. “So what if I am?”

Laughter booms out of me like a discharging cannon. “Zachary Hart is afraid of the woman he treated like secondhand goods.”

His face contorts into an almost hostile glare. “You don’t know the facts.”

Shrugging, I tell him, “Since you haven’t bothered to defend yourself, I just assumed Yolanda was telling the truth.”

“I shouldn’t have to defend myself when I didn’t do anything wrong,” he practically hisses.

“Staying quiet makes you look guilty.”

“Pleading for my innocence would make me look guilty, too. I’m kind of in a no-win situation, Ellie.”

Sitting down on the chair across from him, I ask, “Don’t you have people in charge of your press? If you really were innocent, you’d think they’d be helping to make you look better.”

“They’re the ones who set me up with Yolanda to begin with,” I tell her.

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