Page 40 of From Ice to Home (The Heart of a Ranger #1)
HANNAH
I t’s game night.
Growing up, sports were a constant in our house.
With three brothers playing football and a boyfriend bound for the pros, it was inevitable.
I’m no stranger to the adrenaline, to the energy that seeps into your bones the minute you step into the arena, to the pulse of anticipation building with each passing second.
But since Lucas and I broke up, hockey has been little more than background noise—something I avoided more than I followed. Now, stepping into this arena, it all comes rushing back…in overdrive.
Because this isn’t just any game. It’s the NHL playoffs , and the stakes are so much higher.
Lucas isn’t just a guy fighting for a championship. He’s not just the small-town hero anymore.
He’s one of the best athletes in the country. And I’m here as his wife.
Father, thank you for bringing us here, to this place. Please, keep Lucas safe on the ice. Keep his mind still and focused on You. We will give You all the glory, no matter the outcome.
Lucas spent most of the afternoon with his team, going through all the usual pre-game routines.
Moving forward that could change, but for now he’s keeping the coach and the manager happy after everything we put them through this past week and a half.
That means he arrived at Madison Square Garden with the team, while I took the car service he arranged for me.
It’s all still so new. The reality of it all presses in as I step out of the car and approach the entrance.
The moment I step inside, the energy hits me full force—electric and consuming.
Thousands of fans filling their seats, the low hum of anticipation building to a roar.
It burrows deep, setting my nerves on fire.
The player’s family, girlfriends and now…wives are assigned a luxury suite for the game. My stomach knots at the thought. I don’t know these people. They don’t know me.
And yet here I am, about to step into their world.
Before entering the suite, I take out my phone, hoping Lucas might still get a chance to read my message before the game.
Are you ready for the game?
Born ready, Sanders. Are you settled?
Almost. You know this will be the first time I watch you play. You know…live.
I’ll do my best to impress then. I can’t wait to look up and see my girl in my jersey, cheering me on.
I think you mean your wife.
I love hearing that.
You know what I mean.
Got to go. Coach is giving the talk.
Wait…
Check your bag. Front pocket.
A few minutes go by and I hope he still has enough time to do this one last thing.
You remembered.
How could I forget? Enjoy the game, Luke. I’m praying for you. Be safe.
Always xx
Staring at the screen, and the kiss he sent me, my fingers move to my lips, thinking about the way he kissed me last night, and how we get to do this forever. This morning I took the time to look for a Bible verse, wrote it on a piece of paper and slipped it into his bag.
When he played in high school, he’d tape the verse to his stick to remember who he played for—for God, His Glory, and the love of the game.
Knowing he found it, and that he remembered about our little tradition, sends warmth through my chest.
I take a deep breath, tuck my phone in my bag and step into the luxury suite.
The sight of the plush black leather seats, sushi bar, and floor to ceiling windows overlooking the rink bathed in blue and red lights has me frozen in place.
This is a far cry from the Palmetto rink just outside Georgetown, or even the slightly bigger rink in Charleston.
This is Madison Square Garden. The heart of hockey.
There are a few women sitting around the bar area, wearing matching jackets.
They’re chatting and getting drinks, clearly all friends.
My chest tightens thinking of going up to them and introducing myself.
Taking a deep breath I weigh my options…
either go over there and get to know them, or carefully slip past them and find a seat near the glass.
Just as I’m about to pick option number two, there’s a touch on my shoulder. I spin around, finding a woman with piercing blue eyes and ash blonde hair in an intricate viking style braid.
“Hi,” she says, her smile genuine. “You must be the newest member of the club. Hannah right?” Her gaze is soft and inviting, reminding me a little of someone.
“I’m Avah,” she says. “EJ’s sister. He told me to look out for you.”
“I thought there was something familiar about you,” I say, immediately relieved that I won’t have to sit completely alone for the entire game.
There’s a quiet warmth to her that reminds me of EJ, and I can already tell that I’m going to like her.
“Thanks for doing this, by the way. I used to tell my siblings to include the new kids too. First time it’s happening to me, though. ”
Avah smiles at that before motioning for us to take a seat close to the glass.
“I know what it feels like to be the new one to the group,” she says, steering us past the rest of the group. As she walks in front of me, I catch the number 86 and the name ‘Johannson’ stitched across the back of her jacket. I can’t help but notice it matches the jackets worn by the other women.
“I guess I’m still kind of new. Moved to New York a year ago, and still there are times I feel like I know no-one here. Well, except my brother.”
We take our seats right against the glass. The energy in the arena is infectious. The fans are buzzing, the music pulsing beneath my feet, the lights moving across the smooth surface of the ice. For the first time tonight, I start to relax, comfortable with Avah next to me.
Her expression shifts, curiosity flickering in her blue eyes as she leans in slightly, her voice a low whisper. “So, is it true?”
I blink. “Is what true?”
“You and Lucas got married in Vegas?” she asks, though there’s no malice in her voice. “I don’t want to intrude or anything, it’s just…the rumors are already floating around and since you’re here...” She shrugs. “Well, who better to hear the truth from, right?”
“I guess I can appreciate that.” I sigh, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Yes, it’s true, we got married in Vegas. It all happened so fast, but it wasn’t a Vegas wedding in a sense—”
“You don’t have to explain,” she says, waving it off. “I’ve seen relationships start off perfectly, textbook, and they end up in flames. I’ve come to learn it doesn’t matter how you start, as long as you give it to God and head in the right direction from there.”
Her words settle over me. The way she speaks, like her faith is a part of her that simply is, feels familiar.
Comforting, even. I didn’t think I’d meet someone who’s so openly honest about their faith, especially in New York.
But now that I have, it’s like a little wink from God that I am in the right place once again.
“I guess I haven’t thought about it like that,” I say with an easy smile. “Lucas and I dated for just over two years back home, so when we ran into each other after all this time, it was like no time had passed.”
Her expression softens and shifts into understanding. “Ah, so making up for lost time, right?” Avah says, with a smile.
“Something like that.“ I let out a small laugh. “Although I don’t really get how we’re the first ones to get married. This morning Lucas mentioned I’m the first wife.”
“Well,” Avah says, looking over her shoulder to where the other women are settling in.
“You’re the first official wife. There’s a fiancee, and two steady girls who have been with their guys forever, but the rest move in and out.
I think Nikolai, the goalie, used to be married at some point, but I’m not really sure what happened there.
That was before he was traded to the Rangers. ”
I make a mental note to talk to Lucas about his teammates. Perhaps we can have a few of them over and we could really get to know each other. If they’re important to Lucas, I want him to know that they’re important to me too.
“Let’s see, who else,” Avah says, twisting in her seat. “The woman with the amazingly dark hair is the fiancee—Charlotte. She’s been with Mitch for almost seven years. He’s the captain. Then you have Lexi and Amber.” Avah’s friendly demeanour shifts. “Then there’s Megan.”
A red-headed woman walks toward us. She’s wearing the number 23 on her jacket, custom made to match the rest of the group’s. But instead of pairing it with jeans like the rest, she paired it with high heels and a mini-skirt. As she draws closer, Avah clears her throat.
“Like I said, this is Michelle,” Avah says, with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes as she gestures toward the woman taking a seat next to me.
I blink. Michelle? I glance at Avah, raising an eyebrow. She’s clearly pretending not to know her name, but I have no idea why she would do that.
Megan sighs and twists in her seat, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “It’s Megan . And I’m Declan’s girl.”
“Oh,” Avah says with a shrug. She leans in slightly, looking unimpressed. “With Declan, you never really know.”
My eyes widen as the tension drastically increases with each passing second.
“I’m sorry, is there a problem?” Megan asks, narrowing her eyes as she catches Avah’s tone.
“No problem,” Avah says, completely unfazed. “I just didn’t know you guys were officially together. ”
Megan’s confident mask slips just slightly, but she quickly recovers.
“We can be non-exclusive and still mean something to each other,” Megan tosses back.
Avah exhales through her nose, just shy of a laugh. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”
“Okay,” I say, leaning forward and effectively putting myself between the two of them. “I think we should get something to drink before the game starts, yeah?”
I get up and Avah luckily follows me to the bar area where the bartender serves us some kind of fancy soda in crystal glasses.