Page 47 of One Wild Chance

I stare at him. “You’re actually serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

I thought he’d push back more. Or that he’d find a small flaw in the idea, and tug on it like a loose thread, until it unraveled and my plan fell apart.

“I don’t know anything about the wedding business.” He picks up his drink. “But it’s better than anything I’ve come up with.”

“Why are you willing to give me a shot at this?”

He shifts on his stool. “Because of Hank. His offer reminded me that you stayed at Lucky Chance. So if there’s anything I can do in return, I’m willing to hear you out.”

He pauses like he’s waiting for me to say something. That’s when I think of Remi, asking if I knew anyone who could coach her hockey team. There’s one person, but he’d never say yes.

I turn to him slowly. “There is actually one thing you could do…”

He opens his hands. “Name it.”

“The Golden Springs youth hockey team needs a coach.”

His brow pulls down.

“Jaxon, you need the town on your side before we open that venue. Folks will be more likely to help our business if you help them first.”

He closes his eyes. “I was really hoping you weren’t going to ask me that.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a maybe,” he grumbles. “One practice.”

“You can’t make any progress in one practice. How about four?”

“Two.”

“Three.”

He shakes his head, his mouth curving slightly. “You never give up, do you, Daniels?”

“No, cowboy, I don’t.” I pick up my glass and hold it up. “To Lucky Chance.”

He tips his glass toward mine. “To Lucky Chance.”

Chapter 14

Jaxon

This is not what I had in mind when I told my brothers I wanted to coach.

I lean against the door of my truck, unsure if I want to walk into the same community ice rink I practiced in as a kid.

Right after my injury, Mom told me that the youth league needed a coach. I forgot about it until Summer brought it up. Truth is, I was hoping for an NHL call.

A car parks right next to me, and a kid climbs out with a hockey stick and a bag.

He looks me over. “Wait. Are you that hockey player?”

“I don’t play anymore.” It still sounds strange coming from my mouth. Being a hockey player has always been my identity. Or rather, it was until the injury changed everything. Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if I hadn’t made that irreversible, split-second decision.

Each choice in my life has been like a line of dominoes toppling over. My decision during that game landed me back on the farm, and being home led me here—the rink where it all started.