The crack in her voice guts me. This matters to her. Not just the event, but proving she can do something meaningful. That she's more than the sunshine girl who runs a cute shop.
"When's the game?"
"December thirtieth. Ten days away." She drops her hands. "We can't sell two hundred fifty tickets in ten days. Not with just local players. Apparently, no one cares about watching amateurs play hockey, even for charity."
"You need a draw."
"We need a miracle." She laughs, but the sound holds no humor. "If this fails, Jessica will look bad for vouching for me. Thehospital loses funding they desperately need. And everyone in town will know I couldn't deliver. That I'm all talk."
The defeat in her voice triggers something in me. That old instinct to fix. To solve. To make the people I care about stop hurting.
"Let me make some calls."
"Ryder, you don't have to—"
"I know people. Give me an hour."
Her eyes widen. Hope flickers and dies. "You can't just call in favors for a small-town charity game."
"Watch me."
I pull out my phone and head for Jim's study. Close the door. Stare at my contact list and wonder if I've lost my mind. Using professional connections for Lucy's project. Calling in favors I've been saving. All for a woman I can't have and a town I don't live in.
But her face. The way she looked when she talked about disappointing people. About not mattering enough.
I dial the first number.
"Cade Sterling speaking."
"It's Ryder. I need a favor."
Cade and I came up through the juniors together. We've been teammates in Boston for three years. He's solid. Dependable. The kind of guy who shows up when it counts.
"Name it," he says.
"Pine Hollow, Vermont. December thirtieth. Charity game for Pine Hollow Children's Hospital. Cancer ward needs equipment." I lean against the desk. "I need you to play."
Silence. Then: "You want me to drive to Vermont between Christmas and New Year's to play in some random charity game?"
"Yes."
"What about your shoulder? You cleared for contact yet?"
"It's a charity game. No checking. Light skating only." I grip the phone tighter. "I'll manage."
"You sure about this?"
"I'm asking, aren't I?"
"Why?"
Good question. Because the woman I'm falling for needs this. Because I can fix it. Because making her smile has become more important than protecting my own interests.
"It matters," is what I say. "Kids matter. Hospital needs the money. And I'm asking."
"You never ask for anything." Cade sounds intrigued now. Curious. "This about that small town you disappeared to?"
"You in or not?"
