Page 59 of High Sticks

Taylor leaned in closer, his expression a bit more serious. "Look, if something is happening with the team, we'd want to know, you know? This team is like family."

I looked at Hoss briefly, catching a nod so subtle that anyone else would have missed it. “Okay,” I began cautiously, "There's a potential change coming. Nothing's decided yet. But let's just say we're exploring options to keep this family together right here in Cold Pines."

Both players exchanged glances, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "We're with you, whatever happens," Jensen said.

"Yeah," Taylor added, "Cold Pines is our home for now, at least, and I’ve made some friends among the locals. It'd be a shame if we let some outsider break up this family."

"Appreciate it, guys," Hoss said, clinking his glass against theirs. "But for now, mum's the word. We're still figuring things out."

"We got it, Coach," assured Jensen. "Our lips are sealed."

As they wandered off, presumably to celebrate our recent win with copious amounts of beer and ill-advised darts games, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the reassurance that we weren't in the fight alone.

Either way, I looked over at Hoss, who was finishing the last of his Coke, and found myself thinking, "Yeah, we can do this."

* * *

The clock on my laptop read 11:47 PM, and there I was, sorting through at least a dozen browser tabs, spreadsheets, and notes, all about community ownership of sports teams. My eyes were dry from staring at numbers and fine print.

Had I lost my mind? Was I honestly thinking the residents of Cold Pines could buy a hockey team? Hell, would they even want to?

I heard the sound of bare feet padding up behind me. "You still up?" It was Hoss, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep. You?" I patted the sofa cushion next to me. “Sit.”

He walked over and plopped down. "Same, well, at least after I found you not there in bed. I’m too pumped about your loony idea to sleep soundly."

I leaned back, gesturing toward the laptop screen. "Be my guest to look over any of this. Maybe you'll find the missing puzzle piece that makes all of this less ridiculous.”

Hoss leaned on my shoulder and stared at the screen. "You know, it’s not a bad idea. It's ambitious as hell, but it's not impossible.”

I sighed. “That doesn’t make the chances sound good.”

He pulled back from looking at the screen and looked at me. "You really think we can pull this off?"

"I don't know," I admitted, running a hand through my hair. "It's a long shot, I guess, but every time I think about the team being sold and uprooted from Cold Pines, my stomach turns."

"Same here. So, what are we gonna do about it?"

I stared at him, the late-night fatigue suddenly lifted by the depth of our conversation. "We're gonna fight, Hoss. Fight like hell to keep this team where it belongs."

A slow smile spread across his face. "Damn straight, we are,” he insisted.

"And if we go down," I added, "we go down swinging."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he agreed.

It was like we’d flipped a switch. Doubt? Sure, it still lingered, but we had excitement and determination in the mix on our side.

I nodded toward the hall to the bedroom. "Come on, let's get some rest. Tomorrow, we've got a hell of a lot of work to do."

"But you know what, Pete? I can't wait to get started."

We both stood to head toward the bedroom when my cell phone buzzed. I looked down and saw a text message from my mentor, Coach Benson.

“You might not have heard yet, but my congratulations in advance.”

Chapter21

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