Not the worst thing.
Kept my hands—and mind—busy enough to keep them off Willow. Not to mention Ellie was over the moon having him around. So I didn’t question it.
But my big-brother senses are tingling.
“Shouldn’t you be at practice or a game or something?”
“Told you, took a weekend off for family matters.”
I narrow my eyes at him but he avoids me. “Family matters, eh? Dad sick or something?”
He didn’t spend any time with Dad this weekend, so we both know that’s not it. But from what I understand, the league doesn’t justgiveyou a weekend off. There needs to be a problem. Either with family—orhim.
Silas shrugs, then flinches. “Well, you know how he is, always acts like he could ride a bull on demand, but struggles to pick up the paper on the doorstep.”
I nod, even though I’m pretty sure Dad’s not the one struggling here. I lift a shovel. “Hey, do me a favor, and put this up against that wall.” I toss it to him.
He catches it with his left hand—which is strange, considering he’s a righty.
“Something wrong with your right arm?”
“The hell you doing throwing a shovel at me?” he shouts.
“Be happy it wasn’t a pitchfork,” I bark back. “What’s wrong with your shoulder? You injured?”
“No,” he snaps. “Just—” He sighs. “Tired. Stiff.” He rubs under the blade. “Where’d you get the mattress anyway? A flea market?”
I shrug. “Old man Norman’s got some great deals, you ought to stop by his table on Saturdays.”
He sets down the shovel and sits on a barrel.
I leave it alone for a minute and fill the stalls with straw where I intend to stable Trouble and two younger horses our trainer’s bringing over soon.
“How’d it happen?” I ask, tossing empty bags aside.
His jaw tightens. “Season opener, few weeks ago.”
“Shit. Anyone know?”
He shakes his head. “I was checked out but—it wasn’t bad then. Played just fine, till one night it .?.?.”
“Got worse?”
He shakes his head. “Snapped or something. I figured a few days off the ice might help. I’ve been starting every game.”
I release a heavy breath. “I’ve noticed.”
“I haven’t told Chase.”
“He’s not just your captain, he’s your best friend,” I point out.
“Just keep this between us?”
I glance at his shoulder. “So long as you get that looked at. Physical therapy should do the trick, no?”
He nods but doesn’t confirm it.
I roll my eyes. “You don’t need to tell anyone at the league you’re hurt to get treatment.”At least I don’t think so.
