"It sure looks like it," I replied. This was going to be good for the town.
The camera panned the crowd, slowing as it reached a section of men all wearing matching jerseys and hats. The Growlers. Most of them were already drinking beer and it wasn't even noon. Wick, Freddie, Charlie, Mr. Plow; they were all there, laughing. The camera paused on Logan, who was blocking the guy next to him.
"That's Logan Brush!" Zephyr clapped his hands.
Logan leaned forward and my knees buckled.
The little Lion pointed to the screen again. "And that's Beckett Shepherd. He played for Washington."
How did Beck have the nerve to show his face here? One of the last text messages I'd read was from Megan, saying Charlotte told her Logan had kicked Beckett off the team. Now that asshole was laughing like he hadn't just blown up the lives of everyone in this trailer, including mine.
I was still working on my second braid when I stormed out of the trailer and into the madness of the grandstand. I marched along the boards and stopped right in front of him. Logan saw me coming and put both hands up like I was a sheriff in an old-timey western.
"Logan." I couldn't look at Beckett. I gestured for Logan to come closer. "How could you let him back on the team?" I hissed.
"Clara, there's stuff you don't know."
"I know he's a liar who chose a paycheck over doing the right thing."
"Clara." This time it was Beckett who said my name. "I can explain."
I held up my hand. "I'm not talking to you."
"Ladies and gentlemen!" The announcer's voice blasted across the rink. "It's the last minute of play."
The bleachers creaked as everyone in the stands stood and cheered. "I have to go," I said. "There are people counting on me and I don't let people down, especially little kids."
The noise from the crowd was deafening, but all I could hear was the whoosh of my heartbeat. Logan's voice was on a loop in my mind:"There's stuff you don't know."
Terra had the Flying Monkeys lined up at the door. "We've got a couple of minutes while the ice is resurfaced." She checked her watch. "There's someone who wants to see you."
"Is it a man?" I groaned.
She blinked. "No. Actually, it's not. She's waiting in the volunteer trailer."
"This better be fast. I'll be right back, Terra. Keep these Flying Monkeys in line."
Everleigh King was alone in the volunteer trailer, looking like she'd stepped off the pages of a J.Crew catalog. Her baby was asleep on her chest in a carrier, her head resting on Everleigh's houndstooth sweater.
"Clara Dalton. I'm Everleigh King. We met the other day at the car..."
I interrupted. "I know who you are."
Everleigh's lips turned up and she tilted her head. She probably wasn't used to being interrupted, but I didn't care. "I'm about to skate."
"This will be quick."
I crossed my arms.
"There's too much to go into right now, but you need to know that the King family is going to ensure the subsidized programs continue. Hockey, figure skating, skiing; every sport in this town is going to be part of the foundation."
"What? Really?" I hadn't planned on sitting, but suddenly I felt like I needed to.
Everleigh rested her hand on her baby's head. When she smiled she was a lot less intimidating. "My father didn't know about your programs or the potential for a different building site."
"So what does that mean?" The world felt like it was tilting.
"It means the existing Chance Rapids arena is going to be dedicated to subsidized programs."
