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She laughed and then coughed. “I won’t have to trade you. Gunnar, I’m resigning for three different reasons. One of those happens to be so that we can be together; another is that my head just isn’t in hockey anymore.”
I started to object, but she held up her index finger. “I’m done trying to impress my father. He overrode my decision and micromanaged me, and I let him. The team needs someone who will stand up to that fucking coach.”
“What’s the third?” I was confused and squeezed her hand, prompting her to continue.
She reached to hold my other hand, then moved it to rest on her belly. “Our baby.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
EVERLEIGH
My bruises had fadedto a pale yellow. I swiped my hair into a messy bun on top of my head and put on a pair of paint-spattered overalls. Pulling back the red plaid curtain revealed a blanket of white snow covering the fields outside the cabin. The willow tree’s branches hung heavily, and when the sun peeked over the horizon, the landscape sparkled like it was covered in diamonds, not snow.
I put on my rubber boots, wool hat, and heavy canvas coat, then stepped outside. Since resigning from the league, my first important job of each day was a morning walk with Norman. My belly pressed against the zipper of the canvas coat, and I rested my mittened hand on the bump.
Gunnar and I had moved in together, and we split our time between my place in the city and the little cabin by the river, though we only stayed in the sixteen-million-dollar brownstone when it was necessary. We both liked the solitude and quiet of the cabin so much better.
Norman snuffled around in the snow by my feet and dug out a frozen tennis ball. He nudged my hand and as I took it from him, I remembered Gunnar’s wish to be able to open the door in the morning and throw the tennis ball for his dog.
An all-terrain vehicle growled in the distance and I shielded my eyes to see who was approaching. Bundled up in the cabin of the Gator was my father. He pulled up beside me and shut off the engine.
“Good morning, Sweetheart.” He patted the seat beside him.
I swung into the passenger seat and kissed William King on the cheek. Norman hopped in behind us. “Good Morning, Daddy.”
“How are you feeling today?”
Ever since the accident, my father had taken a new interest in my life. I’d thought that resigning from the team meant we wouldn’t have anything to talk about, and that he would see me as a failure. But the opposite had happened.
“Dad, I’m as big as a house and I have to sit down to put on my boots. That’s how I’m feeling.”
He grinned. “You look beautiful, Sweetheart. How’s the painting going?”
The first pieces I’d painted in years had been a little rough, but my father had hung them in the main house anyway, replacing million-dollar paintings with mine. “Great. I know that you don’t want to hear this, but when I’m out here painting, it feels like Mom is with me.”
My father patted my knee. “Your mother was a beautiful woman, Everleigh. You’re definitely her daughter.” Years ago, I would’ve been insulted by his comment. I’d wanted to be a tough businesswoman – a ballbuster; a woman who could command a room full of men. But now, being compared to a kind, creative, and nurturing woman was the biggest compliment I could be given.
“I’ve made mistakes, Everleigh – a lot of them. But Gloria was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I messed things up with her because I was an insecure man.”
I would never have seen this side of my father when I was working for the team. Back then, I was another someone to be managed. Now, I was his confidante. “You two still had lots of good times, though. That’s what I’m choosing to remember.”
He smiled, his eyes glistening. “I’m glad that you found a strong man. Strong enough to—”
“Deal with me?” I put my foot on the dashboard of the ATV.
“You said it.” He grinned and did a U-turn, snow and mud spraying up behind us.
I held on tightly as we navigated to the main house for our new morning ritual – breakfast.
“Where’s Marisa?” I asked as I slid into my place at the formal dining table. Gunnar and Colton’s places were empty. They were in Los Angeles at an away game.
My father poured maple syrup on his pancakes and then handed the bottle to me. “She’s gotten very serious about her tennis game.”
Marisa had been missing more and more family events. “Is everything alright between you two?” I took a sip of orange juice. Along with my high stress job, I’d given up coffee.
William King smiled. “Everything is fine, dear. And I know that I’ve said this before, but thank you for helping her with the wedding. She’s so excited about it.”
The wedding was two months away, and other than her hideous taste, everything was going smoothly. “Has she heard from her daughter yet?”
