Page 70 of Puck Me Up

“But last year…”

“Last year, I hadn’t seen the record profits the Prospectors were about to pull in with all this free publicity. Over half the arena was filled nearly every game with people wanting a glimpse of the woman who managed to snag…what was it, six? Eight? A whole damn community rec team worth of hockey players.”

I blinked at him, letting his words sink in. He wasn’t going to fire me. He didn’t care what—or who—Jamie and I were doing in our free time. The tightness in my chest began to ease, but the most important decision was still up in the air.

“I appreciate that, sir,” I said. He nodded.

“I’m old, Wilder. I can’t keep up with you kids and your sexual antics.” I blushed like a schoolgirl at his frankness. “So, what the hell do I know? You know? All any of us can do is try to be happy. And I’m happy as hell with this past season’s earnings. So, put your fear to bed.”

I nodded, twisting my hands in my lap. He sat back in his chair and heaved a weary sigh.

“As for Kane,” he said. He sucked his teeth regretfully. I was sure that he was going to say he was sorry, but there was no way he would cut one of his starting players half an hour before the game that would decide who was going on to the championship. I knew how badly he wanted that cup. “You’re right, we can’t send him out there. He’s got to go. What a slimy little piece of shit.” I blinked at him. Who had snatched Mr. Branson’s body and replaced him with somebody…cool? Was this just the effect of record profits? I’d always thought money made a man less forgiving, not more so.

“You’re saying you might be willing to cut him?”

“Consider him cut,” Branson said. He leaned forward, pinning me with a sharp, beady stare, and I struggled not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. I felt like I was being X-rayed. “And something else, just between me and you for now. Rata is out of here, too.”

“Rata?!” I asked, unable to hide the shock in my voice this time.

“You probably think that I don’t see who’sactuallydoing all the work around here. It’s very impressive, what you’ve managed to do with this ragtag bunch of minor leaguers and new recruits. You’re a good leader, Wilder.”

I was horrified to find my eyes were stinging. I cleared my throat and choked out a laugh.

“It means a lot to hear you say that, sir.”

“If he lets me cut Kane without causing a fuss, we’ll keep him through the end of the post-season. If only for decorum’s sake. But if he tries to throw his weight around, he’s out of here, too. You know he and Kane’s father are good friends, right? I’m not saying the boy isn’t talented with a hockey stick, of course he is. But Rata pushed me hard to recruit him, and I’ve been questioning that decision ever since. I knew there was something not quite right about him.”

I didn’t know what to say. My ears were ringing. Not only was I staying on, I was moving up and Branson was taking out the trash. I struggled to shift my brain into this new reality. The conversation had not gone at all as I expected.

“What can I do, sir?” I asked, trying and failing to hide my glee.

“Go get your team ready for the game, Coach,” he said with a wink. “And send Kane in to speak with me.”

90.

Rowan

“Great timing,” Patch Olson grumbled. Jamie’s brow was knit with concern but I could tell that, unlike the others, he was giving me the benefit of the doubt. He knew exactly why Kane had been cut. But explaining it to everyone else was a tall order.

“Hey,” I said. “This team is greater than the sum of its parts. All season, we’ve had obstacles thrown our way and we’ve overcome them. I know Kane was a powerhouse center and he scored a lot of goals for us, but he wasnota team player. We can only rise from here, and get stronger without him.”

I could see the thought of mutiny cross more than one player’s mind as they sat there and listened to my rousing speech. They didn’t look very roused. The jubilant air in the locker room had evaporated when I announced that we’d be playing the final games of the season without Kane. I understood their fear, and their uncertainty, but I didn’t feel it myself. I felt a thousand pounds lighter, knowing that that sleaze ball was out of the picture. Branson, Rata, and Kane went into the coaches’ office, and a few minutes later, I could hear Kane shouting. A second later, he burst through the door, back into the locker room, and he was glaring at me. He took a menacing step in my direction, and that was when Jamie and Patch stepped in front of me, crossing their arms over their chests and daring him to take a swing. When he saw he was dangerously outnumbered, he changed tack and stormed out of the arena, hollering at the top of his lungs about his father and a lawsuit. Rata had puffed out his chest and tried to bully Branson into changing his mind, and a couple of minutes later he was headed out right behind Kane, carrying a box of stuff from his desk. He, at least, had the good sense to stay quiet once he realized he had lost. Now, it was just me and the team left. Branson would be in the stands tonight, and ticket sales were up. The pressure was on, and it was squarely on me.

“It’s like Branson doesn’t want us to win a championship,” Sly Moran muttered, looking around the locker room darkly. The players had their heads hung low. They were clearly feeling defeated. And that just wasn’t going to do, going into the most important game of the season so far. We had to beat Idaho to advance to the championship game. And I was damned and determined that we were not only going to play the ship—we were going to host it right here at Casper Memorial Arena. Now if I could only get my players as pumped up as I was.

I jumped up onto the nearest bench, clearing my throat. I stood a head taller than most of them up there, and they were forced to crane their necks to see me. Good. They needed to keep their chins up at a time like this.

“Now, you boys have had a hell of a season,” I started, building steam as I went. “And you’re going to bring it home strong and true. Forget about Kane Devereaux. He’s gone. History. Old news. And he was never a Hawk. Not really. This game isn’t about him. It’s a chance to show what each one of you is capable of. You may not know it, but you’re capable of a whole hell of a lot. You’ve seen those Idaho boys. Their knees are knocking, Adam’s apples bobbing. They don’t know what to do with themselves down here in the big city.” A chuckle went around, a small ray of light that told me maybe, just maybe, I was starting to get through to them. “They’re a bunch of cow-tippers on figure skates. They don’t stand a chance.”

This wasn’t entirely true. There were a lot of beefy, mean veteran skaters on the Idaho team. And they’d been chewing up the roster this season. But so had we. I had faith in my guys. Something in my gut just told me that we were going to go all the way. Now that Branson had given me his vote of confidence, I was feeling invincible.

The energy was contagious. I could see the spark of encouragement spreading through the room. Jamie was nodding along, his jaw set. I locked eyes with him, grateful for the bond of friendship that we’d developed this season. I was an only child, and he had become the closest thing I had to a brother.

“So let’s hydrate and tape up, and show these cowpokes exactly what they’re dealing with. Are you with me?” I was answered by a noncommittal mumble. “Sorry, I didn’t hear that. I said,Are you with me?!”

“Yes, Coach!” the team roared back. I grinned down at them.

“Good,” I said. “Let’s go get ‘em, fellas.”

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