Page 3 of A Scoring Chance

“Are you expecting them to answer you?” a voice says, startling me.

“That would be terrifying,” I respond quickly, before turning toward the voice.

A woman sits atop a chocolate brown roan, the reins held loosely in her right hand as they stroll closer to my window. She looks at home in the saddle with a pair of aviator sunglasses resting on her cheeks, barely covering the tinge of pink under her golden-brown skin. Her hair hangs around her shoulder, twisted into long locks that look more like braids. There are afew golden clasps affixed to a few of them, placed strategically throughout her hair to draw in someone’s attention. And draw me in they did. Everything about her is calling to me, pulling me toward her in a way I’ve never felt with another human being. Okay, this isn’t good at all. The last thing I need right now is a distraction, even in the form of a beautiful woman.

I squint my eyes slightly as I lean forward, trying to place her face. I’m not the best with names, but I always remember a face. Surprisingly, I’m unable to place hers. It’s not uncommon for someone to move to Redwood Falls for a chance to get away from the city, but it doesn’t happen very often, especially without the whole town talking about it.

“Didn’t your momma teach you it's impolite to stare?” she quips as her horse pushes its nose through the space, rubbing against my hand.

“Hello, sweet girl,” I whisper, my eyes locked on her as I run my hand down the horse’s nose. “I don’t have anything good in here for you to eat, but if you ask your rider, maybe I can bring you some apples tomorrow.”

“She loves apples.” The corner of her mouth quirks up into a small smile before she continues. “The last of them should cross soon. Sorry for the holdup. All the locals know to stay off this road around lunchtime. The herd always crosses around this time.”

“Thanks for the information,” I respond with a smile.

It’s rare that I can go anywhere, let alone back home, and no one recognizes me. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before this beauty hears from someone that Cooper Hendrix has come home, but for now, I’m going to enjoy the anonymity.

“No problem. I’d stay away from here around dinnertime, as well. We will be on our way back before the sun goes down.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind for the future…” My voice trails off. I’m hoping she’ll give me her name, but she saysnothing, just a glimpse of her smile before she turns away from me toward the fold. “I better get a move on, or they’ll leave me behind.”

“And then what would we do?” I mumble, my eyes remaining locked on her as she ushers the last cow in the fold across the road before giving me a polite wave and continuing her journey.

The sound of my cell phone rings loudly through the cab, bringing me back to the present. I don't need to check the caller ID to know who's on the other end of the line.

“What the hell are you doing?”Beau shouts as I put my truck into drive and continue toward home. “I understand you have one foot in the nursing home, but skipping the season to coach hockey back home? Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

Those motherfuckers didn’t even give me a chance to tell the team myself at the exhibition game this weekend. I have no idea what I would have said to them, but they should’ve heard it from me. The least I expected was a chance to tell my family before any announcement was made.

“And why did I have to find out from Coach? You could’ve picked up the phone and called me, given me a heads-up, something. I’m more than just a teammate, Coop.”

And there’s the actual problem here. My brother got the information secondhand, and from our coach, of all people. I love my brother, but after being in the NHL for the last four years, he should understand how things work. The team only cares about the bottom line. If this information were to get out before they could put a spin on it, it would mess with their bottom line.

“Aren’t you glad you’ll no longer be the second-best Hendrix on the team?” I chuckle, trying to make light of the situation. “Besides, I only found out a couple of hours ago. I assumed they’d give me a chance to call you myself, but I guess I was expecting too much.”

“What the fuck did they do now?” Beau sighs loudly, his anger no longer directed at me.

“Basically, I’m being given the choice to retire at the end of the season or ride the bench for another franchise until my contract is over.”

“That’s complete and utter bullshit, Coop. They can’t really do this, can they?”

“My contract ends after next season. So, either I play with them, or I end up as a free agent at the end of the year. There’s no way that is going to end well for me or the team. Trading me is their best option if they no longer have faith in my ability to lead.”

“How are you so chill about this? Is Remy working on finding some loophole or something?”

The last thing I am is chill about any of this. However, there really isn’t much I can do unless Remy finds a loophole in my contract. However, if he hasn’t found anything yet, I doubt there’s anything for him to find. I’m going to have to find another way to remain a part of the Timberwolves.

I pull my truck onto a familiar street. “Or something. I don’t have a choice right now.”

“Look on the bright side: You get to have Mom’s cooking every night. Lucky bastard.”

“How about I see if I can get Mom to whip something up for me to bring to the exhibition game this weekend?”

Not like this will be a hard thing to make happen. My mom does nothing but feed us whenever we are home. We both end up going back to Portland with enough food to fill a fridge. Our mother seems to believe that we live off protein bars and unseasoned chicken, so she always sends us home with our favorite meals.

“As if that’s going to be hard. But I guess that means I won’t have to share mine when you run out this time.” I hear someone shout Beau’s name, and he sighs.

“Better get back to practice before Coach has you and the team doing suicide drills for the next hour.”

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