Page 4 of Fake-Off with Fate (Love in Maple Falls #1)

JAMIE

I start to get antsy after hanging up with Dale. If I were still in Manhattan, I’d burn off steam by hitting the streets and running down to the tip of the island and back.

While I suppose I could stroll through the woods behind my house, I’m a little nervous I might lose my way.

Also, my city-boy upbringing has me concerned I might run into a mountain lion, or God forbid, a bear.

While studying up on this part of Washington, I discovered that black bears are common.

And even though Google claims they’re “generally vegetarians” and not “normally” dangerous to humans, I think it’s safest to assume any bear will try to eat me given the opportunity.

My fear of the local wildlife is why I decide to head over to the ice arena where the team practices. I’m not looking to chat with anyone quite yet, but I’d like to get a lay of the land. Grabbing a baseball cap, I put it on and hope it will be enough of a disguise to keep me from being recognized.

The stadium is only a mile from the house I’m renting, so I’m there in record time.

It would probably take me thirty minutes to drive the same distance in New York City, which is why I take the subway there.

I don’t drive unless I’m going upstate for a long weekend.

Then it takes a minimum of two hours to go thirty miles.

Getting out of the car, I stop for a few minutes to appreciate the bucolic scenery. The whole landscape is full of the most amazing evergreens. If I’m going to live here, I’m going to have to find a proper guide to teach me the ins and outs of surviving in the woods.

Walking into the stadium, the first person I see is Troy Hart.

Troy retired from the game years ago and moved to Washington.

He and his wife are raising their four sons here.

In addition to owning the Ice Breakers, they also own the stadium where the team practices.

Forgetting my intention to stay anonymous, I walk up and greet him.

“Troy, how are you, man? It’s been years! ”

He looks up from his phone and grins ear to ear. “Jamie! We’re so excited you agreed to join us.” He reaches out and pulls me in for a hug. Then he pats me on the back enthusiastically.

“I’m looking forward to the change of pace,” I tell him.

“You won’t regret it,” Troy says. “I don’t ever want to go on vacation because every day in Maple Falls feels like the perfect getaway.”

“You’re like a walking advertisement for happiness, aren’t you?” I’m only half-teasing. There’s an aura of contentment around Troy that’s quite appealing. I wonder how long it will take for me to feel the same way, if that’s even possible.

He shrugs his shoulders. Like he’s reading my mind, he says, “Give yourself a few months and you’ll know exactly what I mean.”

I grimace slightly. “I’m worried I’ll get bored. What do people do around here for fun?”

“There are some decent restaurants, a movie theater, and even a world-class bookstore,” he brags. “Trust me, you’ll get used to things pretty quickly.”

“Dale says you own a lodge here, too. You going to run for mayor next? ”

He rolls his eyes. “Heck, no. Bill Thompkins is the perfect man for that job.”

“Dedicated and pushy?” I guess.

With a laugh, he responds, “You must have already met him.” His phone rings before I can tell him about my brief conversation with the mayor.

Troy looks at his screen before pressing a button to send the call to voicemail.

“It’s just my brother, Zach. He can wait.

” He rolls his eyes before adding, “He and his wife are expecting their third child and he’s in a constant panic about what they’ll do when the kids outnumber them. ”

Before I can make an uninformed comment about children, he tells me, “We have a lot of high school and college teams scheduled to come up for hockey clinics and to see the Ice Breakers play. I know they’ll be excited to meet you.”

“I’ve always enjoyed talking to kids who love the game,” I tell him. Then I add, “With the Ice Breakers in town, Maple Falls must be on the precipice of some pretty big growth.” At least I hope they are. I’m starting to second-guess my decision to rusticate.

Troy shakes his head. “Most of the woods around here were donated to the town when old Victor MacDonald died.” He explains, “Victor was one of the first settlers of Maple Falls. When he passed and the town took ownership of the land, they protected most of it from being developed. That way our little hamlet will stay just the way we like it.”

Super. “Do you have any idea where Dale is?” I ask.

“If he’s still here, he’s probably in the locker room.” He points down the hall. “Just follow the signs.”

I reach out and shake Troy’s hand. “I’m happy to see you again, man.”

“You’ll have to join my family for supper some night soon,” he says with a smile before walking off.

I’ve barely been in Maple Falls for a day, and I’ve already made plans to meet three people for meals.

At this rate, I’m guessing food will be the focus of my social life.

Not that I’m complaining, I love food. I just can’t imagine a small town like this will have the kind of variety I’m accustomed to.

Instead of going to the locker room, I decide to head into the arena to see if any of the guys are there.

That’s where I discover several players are scrimmaging.

Sitting on the bleachers, I kick my feet up in front of me and watch the action.

Even though everyone is geared up, I still recognize a couple of faces.

“Weston, watch your left!” Lucian shouts loudly as the puck races forward. His teammate reacts stealthily and with determination. Weston lunges to block the incoming missile, and I know from experience he’s probably relishing the feel of the hard rubber as it smacks against his pads.

With a sudden movement, he deftly passes the puck to another teammate. The receiver takes control, gliding gracefully across the ice. He weaves between defenders with skill you only see in the pros. My blood starts to pump in excitement at what is about to happen.

With a final flick of the wrist, the shooter sends the puck sailing right past the goalie and into the net. The winning side raises their arms in victory, and the goalie shouts out, “That’s the last time, Grazer! You’re not going to pull that move on me again!”

“I’ve heard that one before,” the shooter laughs.

I like what I’m seeing. Dale is nowhere in sight, so it’s clear these guys can play without a babysitter. Hopefully, that means they get along reasonably well. Which would be a major accomplishment for any pro hockey team.

Instead of heading down toward the boards to greet the guys, I stay put and watch as the dynamics continue to play out.

A player I know to be Canadian shouts out, “I’m gonna tap you like a maple tree and make syrup out of you!

” The two things I know our neighbors to the north love more than anything are maple syrup and poutine.

The guys separate into small groups to work on passing drills. Lucian tilts his blade down to securely cup the puck. This is a move that will ensure the biscuit stays controlled on the stick and remains primed for quick release.

Next, he shifts his weight from the back of his feet to the front before executing the pass. His follow-through is flawless, which is clear when the disc hits its intended target. In this case, the player he’s passing to.

The only thing better than watching hockey is playing it, and I can’t wait to get onto the ice with my new team. But for now, I simply continue to observe the different personalities I’m expected to lead.

Leaning back, I get comfortable and while away the next hour. Any sense of trepidation starts to slip away as I follow the players’ progress. I’m confident I’m going to get on well with these men.

If only Harry Franks wasn’t one of them.