Page 58 of From Ice to Home (The Heart of a Ranger #1)

HANNAH

I t’s been a week since Lucas and I prayed together and we gave our marriage to God.

I haven’t taken off my wedding ring since.

It’s been hugging my finger in the most comforting way and I can’t imagine not wearing it ever again.

There’s been a definite shift between us.

It’s not perfect, but it’s steadier. It’s grounded in all the right things, especially since we’ve been intentional about sharing our faith, about coming before God together and not just in our own separate ways.

Charlotte added me to the group chat, just like she promised.

By game three, I had my own playoff jacket.

According to her, it’s a whole thing between all the WAG groups, a kind of competition to see who has the coolest look.

Seeing as I didn’t get to wear mine for the first two games, social media blew up over a photo of me wearing it at Madison Square Garden.

This time my ring was on full display. That seemed to settle the chatter about me and Lucas, the focus returning to the team and their performance instead.

As it should be. Because Lucas played amazingly in both games three and four. Even though they lost game four in overtime, it was tight.

Now, with the help of Harry who pulled off some kind of miracle, I’m in Vancouver with my husband. I was even more shocked when I found out I could travel with Lucas on the plane. When I asked Harry about it, he mumbled something about emotional support and walked away.

They won game five tonight.

Which means the Rangers are leading the series 3-2.

Next is game six and a shot at winning the Cup on home ice.

The Vancouver air is cool and crisp, and I press even more into Lucas’s side as we watch the glimmering lights over the water. We don’t have a lot of time out here. Harry gave us thirty minutes before we have to get back in time to meet the bus to the airport.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, unable to keep my heart from swelling in my chest.

It doesn’t feel real being here, in a beautiful city with my husband at my side. The North Shore Mountains stand out, even at night, a dark backdrop against the lights dancing on the water.

Lucas looks down at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, it is.”

He digs into his coat pocket, pulling out a navy blue knitted hat and pulling it over my head, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“There you go,” he says, placing a kiss on my nose. “Now you’re all tuqued up, just like a hockey wife in Vancouver should be.”

I smile up at him. “I can’t believe we’re here,” I say, thinking about everything we’ve been through the past few weeks. “It feels like a lifetime has gone by already, and it’s only been what? Three weeks?”

He frowns thinking back. “That can’t be right,” he says. “ You have to count the rest too. So, it’s more like seven years and three weeks.”

I playfully shove him before he pulls me in close again.

My back is to his chest as his arms wrap around me in a tight embrace, keeping me warm in the chill.

The lights on the water flicker in the distance, the whole city humming with a quiet kind of electricity.

The kind that only comes before something big.

The energy here in Vancouver is so different than in New York.

There, hockey is one of many big deals in the city, but here, it’s the most important thing.

Canada bleeds hockey, and it shows in every beat, street, and greeting in Vancouver.

“I’m so proud of you, Luke.” His chest rises against mine in a calm, steady rhythm, and I look over my shoulder at the man I’ve loved for so long. “You’ve worked hard for this, and I’m so happy that I’ll get to be by your side when you win.”

He looks down at me, quirking an eyebrow with amusement. “When we win, huh? Look at you all confident.”

“I’ve been around you long enough,” I say, shrugging. “That hockey ego of yours must be rubbing off on me.”

He chuckles, tightening his grip around me. “It’s not ego if it’s true.”

“Exactly,” I say, getting lost in the depth of his dark eyes. “I know you’re going to win. I can feel it.”

His grin softens, his eyes crinkling in a way that causes butterflies to flutter in my stomach. “I think that’s what I love most about you, Sanders. The way you believe, your faith in me. Sometimes I think I wouldn’t even have made it if it wasn’t for you.”

“You would’ve made it,” I say before looking back over the water. “It was God’s plan for you, Lucas. And one way or another, it would’ve happened.”

He places a kiss on my head, before lowering his mouth to my ear. “I know it’s been rough. Long hours and impossible schedules,” he says, his breath tickling my skin. “Thank you for sticking it out with me.”

These past two days have given me a glimpse into what it’s really like…

life on the road with a professional hockey team.

The constant movement, the pressure, the exhaustion.

It’s a tight, grueling rhythm that doesn’t let up.

I’m still adjusting, but I see now what it takes.

Not just talent, but grit. Endurance. A relentless love for the game.

“This is where I want to be Lucas,” I tell him, grounding my words in the quiet certainty I’ve felt all day. “I want to be by your side and support you. You’ve had a great game tonight, and you’ll have an even greater final game. I just know it.”

“God willing,” he breathes.

I follow his words with my own silent hope to God that winning is part of His plan for Lucas.

“And when the playoffs are over?” I ask, wondering if we’ll be heading back to Georgetown for the off-season. We’ve been so focused on fighting through every obstacle, day by day, we haven’t even allowed ourselves to think of life after the playoffs are over.

“Resting,” he says, with a small laugh. “And spending time with my wife.”

He slowly loosens his grip and slides an arm around my shoulders, guiding us back toward the hotel.

The city lights twinkle behind us, casting long shadows on the sidewalk as we walk side by side through the cool night air.

We need to make it back in time for the team bus, but neither of us seem in a hurry.

My thoughts drift to something Essie said when we spoke a while back. Her words nudge gently at my heart.

“Essie mentioned something the other day…” I begin, hesitant. “She thinks we should consider having another wedding. Back home.”

I glance up at him, unsure of his reaction.

We’ve reached a point where we no longer look at our Vegas wedding as a mistake.

Maybe we moved out of order, said vows before we really understood what they meant, but it was still real.

It’s ours. We didn’t start the way we were supposed to but we started.

And we chose to keep going, even when it would’ve been easier not to.

“I think that’s a great idea,” he says, his voice filled with excitement.

“I think our families would love it. Besides, you deserve the wedding you’ve always wanted.

” He lifts my hand to his mouth, placing a kiss against the back of it.

“Then we can celebrate our marriage with our family and friends.”

I nod, no longer worried about the way we started our marriage. When we gave our marriage, our relationship to God, all the guilt melted away. And what remained was grace.

“And then I’m taking you on a honeymoon,” he says, stopping in his tracks and pulling me into his chest. He leans closer, placing kisses along my jaw. My breath hitches and my arms slip easily around his neck.

“Anywhere specific you had in mind?” I ask softly, thinking that we could stay home and it would be amazing.

“Somewhere with lots of…” he nuzzles my neck, the scruff of his beard teasing my skin, “…snow.”

I pull back, wondering if he’s knocked his head on the ice when I wasn’t looking.

“Snow?” I ask. “We’re from the South and that’s your dream destination?”

“I think it’s perfect,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes lighting up the night. “We won’t be able to leave our room. We’d be stuck in front of the fire, keeping each other warm.”

“You concocted yourself a nice little plan there, didn’t you Mr. Walker.”

“I did, Mrs. Walker. And I’m a genius, if I do say so myself.”

I squint at him, grinning. “I think you may have some kind of latent injury by getting knocked into the boards.” Thankfully the cool air calms down my own racing pulse… slightly. “Le t’s get back to the hotel, maybe the medical team could quickly take a look at you.”

“Now you’re talking,” he says with a laugh before sweeping me up over his shoulder.

“Lucas,” I squeal, pounding lightly on his back as he takes off jogging the last block toward the hotel. “Slow down, you’re going to pull something!”

He just laughs, the sound echoing through the streets, as if nothing in the world can weigh him down. We reach the hotel’s entrance, both of us breathless from laughter, when someone clears their throat. Lucas gently puts me down, and we find Harry standing in the doorway.

“We’re back in time, Harry,” he says, his voice easy. The rest of the team is filling the lobby, duffels slung over their shoulders.

“Barely,” Harry says, a strange look on his face that borders on pain and indifference. “Get your stuff on the bus, Walker. I just need a few minutes with your wife.”

Lucas looks down at me, the question in his eyes silent but clear. I nod. Harry’s expressions and harsh voice no longer intimidate me. I’ve come to realize it’s the way he’s wired. Especially given his position and perhaps even his past.

“Okay,” Lucas says, giving me a soft kiss against my temple. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

As soon as Lucas steps away, Harry steps closer, his voice low. “I suppose this could’ve waited, but I wanted to give you time to think about it,” he starts.

“Is something wrong?” I ask, instantly alert.