Page 39 of Older Cowboy

She relaxed by a few degrees. “Never.”

“It’s quite the spectacle. Fast and wild. And occasionally violent. There’s been blood on the ice on more than one occasion when I’ve gone to a live game. Good that that sort of thing doesn’t bug you.”

Doctors and nurses—and nurse practitioners—didn’t work in the field if they couldn’t handle the sight of blood. But she wasn’t a fan of violence. Erika sincerely hoped this wouldn’t be like the time Blake had taken her to her first and only slasher flick at the theater.

It’d been a horror fest with jump scares and gratuitous gore. She’d hated it and made him swear he’d never ask her to go to such schlock again. He hooted with laughter at what he’d called her “oversensitive reaction,” and while this hadn’t led to a fight, she’d been annoyed at him.

Erika went still at the memory. She hadn’t thought about that for years and years. They’d both been so young back then, mere kids. The woman she’d become now would’ve made her displeasure known far more stridently given the same situation.

It shook her to think of her late husband like that. Usually, she didn’t allow anything negative about him to surface in her thoughts. It’d felt… disrespectful somehow. But Blake Cantrell had been flawed and human like everybody else. It was odd that she’d so thoroughly forgotten that. She continued to reflect on it as they deplaned and headed to the stadium where the game would be starting in less than an hour.

“Cutting it a little close, sorry,” Cody told her, but Erika was too dazzled by the size of the arena.

From the outside, it’d appeared as little more than this flattened dome with a white top, but once inside, it was a massive structure. She was glad the seating was dark navy blue. At least that broke up the glare from the ice and overhead lighting. Music reverberated through the place, and there was a chill in the air that she assumed must be coming from the rink itself.

Despite the game not having begun yet, the dull roar of having so many people in one space ricocheted through her brain. It was almost like experiencing sensory overload.

“This way.” He reached behind him for her hand, which she all too willingly let him have. She didn’t want to wind up lost. “Our seats are the best, right down by the plexiglass.”

Erika didn’t know exactly what that meant until Cody guided her to a spot with a close-up view of the action. No nosebleed seats for them. If it hadn’t been for the barrier, they could almost reach out and touch the players.

It was as they approached the already full row that a young man in his late teens twisted around, a huge smile extending from ear to ear. His hair was dark, but as Erika took in his features, she would’ve known who it was even if she hadn’t seen him in pictures. He was the spitting image of his dad and even his movements as he strode toward them were just like Cody’s.

“There you are,” Gabe hollered out, waving at them impatiently.

“My boy,” Cody shouted back at him, good-naturedly. She didn’t know if she’d ever witnessed this much glee on his face. “Gabe, Erika. Erika, Gabe,” he introduced them, but rather than being able to shake his hand, Cody collected them all up into a group hug. “I’m so glad you two are meeting at last.”

Gabriel cast her a long-suffering eyeroll, but it was just as good-natured as his father’s shout had been. She liked him instantly.

Although Cody kept trying to include her in their conversation, she felt absolutely content to sit back and watch the interaction between father and son. They had such a laidback banter with one another, a simple flow and shorthand to their language, that when the announcer’s voice came over the PA system, she actually wished she could’ve had a few more minutes just to listen to Cody and Gabriel catching up.

As the two teams—the Edmonton Oilers and the Colorado Avalanche—had their roster of players announced, Cody and Gabe both whooped and cheered, especially when Cody’s brother Boone’s name boomed out over the speakers.

Erika joined them. She hadn’t attended a game in forever and had never been to a professional league game. It was fun to have someone in particular to root for.

Cody had mentioned the rules of hockey on the trip south, but it took observing it all happen in lightning-fast action for her to really understand the gist. Even then, she felt as if she had to scramble to keep up with the puck drop, all the speeding across the ice, and at the referee’s whistle, a penalty call. As one of the Avalanche players skated grumpily off the field of play, many people in the stadium booed.

Erika watched as the first and second periods zoomed by like a jet. Once Cody pointed out Boone and his number fifty-five jersey, she attempted to keep up with him. Boone was large, larger than most of the already beefy guys out there, and looked intimidating to go up against. Yet in between periods when he’d glanced in their direction, he’d thrown them a thumbs up with the same grin on his face as Cody often wore.

There seemed to be plenty of handsomeness and testosterone among the Stiers men.

Everything was all scraping skates and uniformed men racing back and forth toward each other’s goals. The game remained scoreless until halfway through the third period when one of Boone’s Edmonton teammates shot past the goalie and earned the first and only point. Boone had helped—he’d gained what Cody told her was an assist—but as the teams were going their separate ways by the net, something happened.

Boone and two other guys became tangled up, one of the Avalanche players losing his footing. It all occurred in the blink of an eye, but before Erika could even tell what was going on, blood splattered on the ice. And the player who’d been injured was Cody’s brother.

“Boone,” he yelled at the top of his lungs, complexion pale and eyes wide, and her training made Erika stand as if to go help. But there were people in regular shoes and not in jerseys who’d already crossed the ice to where Cody’s brother had fallen.

“Players get hurt all the time, but they’re tough. Uncle Boone is super tough,” Gabe assured her even as his eyes never strayed from his uncle. But Erika wasn’t so sure. Especially when Boone sat up from his prone position on the ice, holding a hand to the side of his neck.

He’d been cut… and with the injury being so close to his jugular, this could be severe.

Chaos ensued with Boone being whisked off the ice by a couple of personnel on either side of him, and the whole time Boone himself held his palm to the gash, applying pressure. Erika, Cody, and Gabe all left the seating area, hoping to find out what the medical team’s plans were. It took some cajoling, but Cody apparently discovered the name of the hospital they were taking his brother to. Flagging down a taxi, they followed in hot pursuit.

While Erika had never worked as an ER nurse, she knew enough of the terminology that when one of the emergency staff gave them a rundown of how things were going, she could decipher everything.

“It nicked his artery, but they’ve halted the bleeding,” she explained. “That should regulate all his pressures, so once they have him sutured up, they should send him to recovery.”

“He’s been injured before lots,” Cody murmured, his stare unfocused on any one thing. “But even when he’s broken bones, I’ve never been afraid that I might lose him.”

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