Page 22 of Rookie’s Redemption (Iron Ridge Icehawks #5)

Chapter Fourteen

Mia

T he noise inside Ridgeview Tavern is absolute chaos.

Every table is packed, every barstool occupied, and there are so many people standing that I can barely see the walls covered in hockey memorabilia. The air carries the scent of spilled beer, victory, and pure adrenaline that's still buzzing through the crowd two hours after the final horn.

Ryder's hand is warm in mine as we push through the throng of celebrating fans, teammates, and what appears to be half the population of Iron Ridge.

His fingers are laced through mine like he's anchoring me to him, which is probably smart because I still feel like I'm floating somewhere outside my body.

One hundred and seven thousand, eight hundred and fifty dollars.

The number keeps bouncing around in my head like a pinball, too big to fully process.

That's not just money.

That's three years of operating costs. That's the new AC unit, the roof repair, the quarantine room expansion, updated medical equipment. That's an actual wage for Zoe if she really does want to become my after-school kennel hand after her work experience is up.

My wildest dreams have now been made real by this incredible man who apparently decided my shelter was worth moving mountains for.

"Make way! Make way for Iron Ridge royalty!" Eli Thompson's booming voice cuts through the noise as he pushes through the crowd with a massive grin and what appears to be champagne. Actual champagne, not beer, which means this is serious business by Ridgeview Tavern standards.

"Eli, you don't have to—" I start, but he's already climbing onto the nearest chair, champagne bottle raised high above his head.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" he roars, and somehow his voice manages to cut through the din. "CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION!"

The tavern gradually quiets to a dull roar, all eyes turning to the legendary Icehawks hero who looks like he's about to deliver a championship speech.

"Tonight, we witnessed something special," Eli continues, his voice carrying the kind of emotion that makes grown hockey players get misty-eyed. "Not just on the ice, though our boys played their hearts out. But something bigger. Something that shows what Iron Ridge is really about."

He gestures toward Ryder and me, and I feel my cheeks burn as hundreds of eyes focus on us.

Please don't make a speech about me. Please don't make this more overwhelming than it already is.

"This young lady," Eli points directly at me, "has been taking care of our community's forgotten animals for years. Asking for nothing, expecting nothing, just doing what needs to be done because it's right."

Oh God. My throat tightens as murmurs of agreement ripple through the crowd.

"And tonight, because of one hell of a hockey player who knows a good woman when he sees one," Eli grins at Ryder, "we raised..."

He pauses for dramatic effect, the entire tavern holding its breath.

"ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN THOUSAND, SIX HUNDRED AND TWENTY DOLLARS!"

The explosion of noise that follows is deafening. Cheers, whistles, applause, and enough hollering to wake the dead. The number is mind boggling, and I realize it's somehow grown even higher since the game ended.

My vision goes a little blurry around the edges, and I'm grateful for Ryder's hand keeping me steady because my knees just went weak.

"Mia?" Ryder's voice is soft and concerned near my ear. "You okay, babe?"

I turn to look at him, this gorgeous man who just turned my entire world upside down in the best possible way, and the emotion hits me all at once.

He did this. For me. For the animals. For dreams I never dared voice out loud.

"I can't..." My voice cracks, and I have to stop talking before I completely lose it in front of half the town. "Ryder, I can't believe you did this."

"I can't believe you didn't just tell me off for calling you babe. " His smile is soft and proud and so full of love it makes my chest ache. He wraps a big arm around me and squeezes. "Believe it, beautiful. Every penny."

Around us, the celebration continues.

Logan and Emma have claimed a corner booth, her laptop open as she frantically types what looks like social media updates while he feeds her bites of nachos. A group of fans has cornered Jackson near the dartboard, and he's patiently signing jerseys while nursing a beer.

The entire defensive line seems to be engaged in an increasingly heated debate about whether tonight's win was more about skill or luck.

Then Sophia appears at my elbow with a champagne flute that's bubbling merrily.

"Drink this," she orders. "You look like you're about to pass out."

"I might," I admit, taking a grateful sip. But it's not enough. "You know what? I think I do need some air."

Ryder's immediately alert, his hand tightening in mine. "Want me to come with you?"

"No, stay. Celebrate with your team. I just need a minute to process all this."

He studies my face with those perceptive hazel eyes. "You sure?"

"Positive. I'll be right back."

I slip outside into the cool night air, leaving the noise and celebration behind. The parking lot is quieter, though I can still hear the party raging inside.

One hundred and nineteen thousand dollars.

I lean against the brick wall of the tavern and let myself really think about that number.

The shelter has been my life for years. Every morning, every night, every weekend, every holiday. I've poured everything I have into keeping it running, watching every penny, making impossible choices about which animals to help and which repairs to prioritize.

And in one night, Ryder changed everything.

God, how did I fight this so hard?

The truth is, I've been terrified since the moment he walked back into my life. Terrified of hoping, terrified of trusting, terrified of letting myself believe that maybe, just maybe, he'd changed enough to stay this time.

But what if I'd kept fighting? What if I'd stuck to my guns about not needing help, about being fine on my own?

What if the Icehawks Community Outreach Program had paired him with someone else, and I'd spent another year watching him from a distance, too stubborn and scared to admit I still loved him?

None of this would have happened.

The shelter would still be struggling. The animals would still be at risk. And I'd still be alone, convincing myself that independence was better than the possibility of heartbreak.

But now I'm suddenly thankful he came back. And he didn't just come back… he came back for me.

The house he bought because of our tree. The way he's shown up every single day at the shelter, not just with help but with patience. The way he's let me set the pace, let me work through my fears without pushing.

And tonight. God, tonight.

The way he looked at me from the ice, like I was the only person in that arena who mattered. The way he mouthed "I love you" in front of thousands of people and however many more watching on television.

This isn't the boy who left me eight years ago. This is a man who knows what he wants. And he isn't afraid to fight for it either.

Now that's a man I could love. Not just love, but spend the rest of my life with.

But am I ready to reveal those feelings to him? Especially out loud… like he has so openly?

The tavern door opens behind me, and I turn to see Ryder stepping outside, two beer bottles in his hands.

"Thought you might want some company after all," he says, offering me one of the bottles.

"How'd you know?"

"Because I know you." He settles beside me against the wall, close enough that our shoulders touch. "And because you get that look when you're processing something big."

"What look?"

"The look that says your brain is running about a thousand miles an hour, trying to figure it all out by yourself again."

He knows me too well. Always has.

We stand in silence for a moment, watching the snow fall under the parking lot lights. It's peaceful out here, a contrast to the celebration raging inside.

"Ryder," I say quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For all of this. For..." I gesture vaguely toward the tavern, the direction of the arena, the entire evening. "For seeing what the shelter could be and making it possible."

"Mia." He turns to face me fully, his expression serious. " You built this. You made the shelter something incredible, something people can see value in supporting. All I did was bring it to the spotlight."

"You did more than that." I reach for his free hand, lacing our fingers together. "You believed in it. In me. Even when I was too scared to believe in us."

His thumb brushes across my knuckles, sending sparks up my arm. "Are you still scared?"

The honest question hangs between us in the cold air.

Am I still scared? Yes. Absolutely. Loving Ryder Scott is like standing on the edge of a cliff… exhilarating and terrifying and completely worth the risk.

But I'm done letting fear make my decisions.

"Terrified," I admit, looking down at our linked hands. "But not enough to run away this time."

The smile that spreads across his face is pure sunshine, bright enough to melt every snowflake making the entire town center look like a winter wonderland.

"Good," he says simply. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

We head back inside, and the celebration is still going strong. Someone's started a round of increasingly ridiculous toasts, and Blake is regaling a growing audience with what sounds like an epic retelling of Connor's best saves.

I settle into the booth beside Ryder, his arm automatically coming around my shoulders. The contact feels natural, comfortable in a way that makes me wonder why I fought it for so long.

"There she is!" Connor raises his beer bottle as we approach. "The woman of the hour!"

"Okay. We can stop that now," I protest, but I'm smiling. "This is Ryder's night. He's the one who scored two goals and sent Montreal packing."

"Ummmm… excuse me . I'm the one who made those spectacular saves in the second period that kept us in the game," Connor adds with a grin.