Page 5 of Home of the Brave

As soon as we hung up, I sent a quick text to Darcy letting her know I would, in fact, be coming.

2

JOSH

The urge to sniff my knee pads, knowing they could knock out small children, was almost enough to get me, but someone walked into the locker room, and I dropped them into my bag. Maybe I should clean them more than once, before the season started. They were lethal now in May.

“Almost ready?”

I turned and nodded to my captain, Wyatt Hartman. “Yeah, just grabbing a few things.”

“Good. Schultz dropped off his bag this morning. He’s meeting us at the airport.”

I added my chest protector, cup, and cut guards for my wrists. His gaze felt like a thousand-pound weight, monitoring my every movement while I fought to keep my face blank.

“It’s okay to be nervous.”

I cracked my neck as I pulled the zippers closed. “I’m not.”

“You’re not calm.” Even after years of playing together, his uncanny ability to read people threw me.

I finally met his waiting eyes. “It’s a lot.”

“Do you want to back out? They can promote Jason Dexter to starter and find another backup if we give them enough notice.”

I immediately shook my head, “No.”

That would be a PR nightmare. Plus, there’d been too much promo around the rosters. If I bailed, I’d create a mess for everyone involved in putting this on. Not that I would even consider it.

“Then what?” He leaned against a locker a few feet from me.

He wanted the explanation I’d been trying to figure out for days. “This season has been insane, between the Olympics and playoffs––”

“Experiences most players would kill for.”

I closed my eyes. Coming across as a spoiled jerk wasn’t what I wanted.

“That’s not what I meant.” I met his eyes again. “I feel like I’m barely hanging on, like life is happening at a hundred miles an hour. All I can manage is to show up when and where I’m told.”

“Well, you’re doing a pretty good job at that.”

He wasn’t getting it. Maybe it was all his years of experience or his annoyingly calm demeanor. Just once, I’d like to see him crash out.

He tilted his head, like he was trying to read my mind, “Enjoy this, Henson. Live in the moment.”

How can I enjoy anything when I barely know what time zone I’m in these days? All I want is a few days, or weeks, to reset and recharge.

I cleared my throat and nodded. “You’re right. It will be good once we get there.”

He was right. This was an opportunity most players dream of. A truly once in a lifetime series. That didn’t negate the rest of my feelings, though.

“You were chosen for a reason; don’t forget that. Plus, you’re not alone. Schultz and I will have your back, and Coach Abrams will make sure you’re ready.” He straightened and left while I sat on the bench and stared at the wall across from me.

The Stanley Cup championship years glowed over Utah’s logo. I’d been a part of the most recent team, but as the backup goalie. I only saw a few periods of play time through playoffs, and I thought it would be the most challenging thing I’d ever do in my career.

Then the Olympics came around, and I was selected. Playing against the greatest in the world was the honor of my life. I’m pretty sure I blinked and missed the entire thing, though.

I was so jealous of the men and women that were able to soak in each day and each experience. I wanted to be able to appreciate the moment, knowing one day I’d look back at these as the good old days, but my mind didn’t work that way. I was too busy stressing over the next game, the next play, the next shot.