I am a smart, capable, strong woman. I am unafraid. I am the master of my destiny. I am a fierce warrior goddess standing in my power…

Ally Heinz had memorized the mantra from Savannah Hart’s You Glow, Girl!—her favorite self-help podcast—and now she repeated it in her head, desperately trying to calm her nerves and, well, glow. Roscoe LeGrand might not have noticed the wild banging of her heart, but there it was, the constant drumbeat of her anxiety. Despite her warrior goddess efforts, and Roscoe’s surprisingly calming presence, Ally was a nervous wreck, her mind swimming with thoughts about all the ways a person like her daughter could die on a hockey rink.

Hitting her head on the ice, crashing into the boards, getting stabbed with an ice skate, assault with a deadly flying stick, assault with a deadly flying puck, choking on a mouth guard, hypothermia…

Indoor hockey hypothermia was totally a thing, right?

Ally closed her eyes and took another deep breath, shaking off her morbid thoughts. She didn’t have to worry about any of those things happening to Reggie, because Reggie wouldn’t be playing hockey. Problem solved.

Clamping a shaky hand over Reggie’s shoulder, Ally opened her eyes again. Feeling the familiar solidity of her daughter—whole and unbroken—reassured Ally in a way no podcast mantra ever could.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Roscoe, ignoring the little spark of desire his intense hazel eyes sent through her body. “It seems my daughter thinks the rules don’t apply to her.”

“That’s not always a bad thing.” He winked at Ally, his smile accentuating the dimple on his left cheek. God, he was cute. Really, really cute.

Focus, Ally. Focus!

“It is a bad thing,” Ally said, gripping Reggie’s shoulder tighter and giving her a little shake, “for a fifteen-year-old who sneaks out while I’m at work, then schemes her way onto a hockey team by forging my signature and pretending to be a boy.”

“Oh, there’s no gender requirement,” Roscoe said. “Sorry if I gave that impression—your daughter just took me by surprise.” He turned to Reggie, his face serious once again. “You can skate, kiddo. A few more years and you’ll be giving the pros a run for our money.”

Beneath Ally’s firm grip, Reggie stood up a little straighter, and Ally’s lips curved into a smile, totally against her will. She couldn’t help it; seeing her kid impress the hell out of a big, strong NHL player filled Ally with a special kind of pride.

My girl is such a badass.

Unfortunately, all that baddassery was a danger to Reggie’s well-being, not to mention Ally’s fragile nerves. Ally hated the ice—she didn’t even like walking on pavement in the winter, lest there be an invisible slick spot waiting to take her down. But here was Reggie, throwing herself right into danger.

Not to mention lying. Batting those baby blues may have worked on Reggie’s dad more times that Ally cared to count, but there was no way Ally would let something like that slide, no matter how badass Reggie was.

“You’re not the only one taken by surprise today, Mr. LeGrand,” Ally said. “First week at a new job, and I get a phone call from your staff about my kid’s forms.” Ally glared at Reggie. “Here’s a tip, honey bunch. Next time you decide to forge my signature, make sure you complete the back of the form, too. They called me to make sure your tetanus shot was current.”

“And you forgot the photo release,” Roscoe said with another wink. Ally bit back a smile.

Cute and funny…

And totally distracting her from the point.

“Reggie, what were you thinking?” she asked.

Reggie lowered her eyes, kicking the ice with the front of her skate. Ally didn’t even know how the kid had managed to locate her old skating gear amidst all the boxes stacked in their garage, still waiting to be unpacked.

“It’s not a big deal,” Reggie said.

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Ally said.

“I just wanted to get out of the house and do something for once. And you’re the one who wanted me to quote-unquote get to know the neighborhood and give Buffalo a chance.”

“Not by sneaking around.” Ally blew out a breath, trying to reign in her anger. Reggie screwed up, but at least she was safe. Unharmed. In a softer tone, Ally asked, “How did you even get here?”

Reggie jutted out her chin, defiant till the end. “I took the bus.”

“You took the bus?” Ally turned to Roscoe and threw her hands up, fresh anger surging through her. “She took the bus!”

Roscoe offered a sympathetic smile, but this was obviously not his battle. She’d kept him from his work long enough, and unlike Reggie, she was pretty sure the other kids had permission to be here.

“I’m sorry to keep you,” she said to Roscoe, reaching into her purse for her car keys. “Thanks for… well, for taking care of her out there.”

Roscoe held her gaze for a long moment. Ally didn’t know him well enough to know what that look meant, but she was pretty sure he wasn’t just being polite.

Her mouth went dry, and despite the chill in the air from the ice, sweat pooled in the small of her back.

She needed to grab Reggie and hightail it out of there.

But then Roscoe said, “Sure you can’t stick around a few more minutes? Watch the end of practice? I’d be happy to answer any questions about the summer program, if you’ve got ‘em.”

Reggie jumped on the opportunity. “Can’t I just show you one thing? Please?”

“I don’t—”

“Come on, Mom. Please?” Reggie’s eyes glazed with fresh tears, her voice full of fragile hope, and Ally’s heart squeezed inside her chest. Ally hated seeing her daughter cry, especially over this. Between the two of them, they’d shed an ocean of tears together, taking turns holding each other during dozens of sleepless nights, whispering promises that they’d get through it, that things would work out. But these tears were different. These tears were Ally’s fault. She’d put them in her daughter’s eyes, all because she was too scared to let the girl live a normal life.

“It will just take a few minutes.” Reggie pulled her helmet back on, tucking her hair up inside. She was still on the verge of tears, but behind her desperate sadness, Ally saw the same determination and competitiveness she used to see in her husband’s eyes.

Her own eyes misted with tears, and she quickly looked away, unable to hold her daughter’s gaze. “Oh, fine,” she muttered. “You’ve got five minutes. And no—”

Reggie was a blur, shooting out to the middle of the rink before Ally had even completed her sentence.

“—running,” she finished weakly. Automatically. It didn’t make sense on the ice; it was just another one of her mantras. No running, no going outside with wet hair, no diving into the shallow end.

No getting hurt.

Ally pressed her lips together, inhaling the cool air through her nose as she and Roscoe watched Reggie in action. The kid zoomed out to the middle of the rink, then turned and gave one of the other coaches the thumbs-up. At her signal, he slapped a puck toward her—way too hard and fast for Ally’s liking, but Reg caught it easily with her stick. Seconds later, she was off, speeding down the ice again, stick in hand, puck completely in her control. She wove effortlessly through a row of orange cones, then sped things up, charging toward the net at the other end of the rink, moving so fast it made Ally queasy.

When she got near the net, she pulled her stick back and smacked the puck, sending it sailing through the air just above the ice. There was no goalie manning the net, but it didn’t matter; the shot was impressive any way you looked at it.

Ally’s jaw dropped. How anyone Reggie’s age and size could hit something with so much precision at such high speeds was completely beyond comprehension.

Roscoe let out a low whistle. “I meant what I said, Mrs. Heinz. Your daughter is incredibly talented.”

Ally could only nod, struck mute by her daughter’s courage. God, Reggie was fearless. Ally couldn’t decide whether she felt more proud, scared, angry, or flat-out jealous. The warring emotions swirled inside, leaving her exhausted.

Hoping for a total reboot on their lives, she’d moved Reggie across the country last month, away from her childhood home in Denver, away from her school and friends and everyone she ever knew. So on one hand, she desperately wanted Reggie to make new friends, to get involved, to embrace their new life in Buffalo. And hockey misgivings aside, she also wanted to be the kind of mom who encouraged her child to follow her dreams, to be brave, to be bold.

More importantly, she wanted her daughter to be happy, and hockey and ice skating were things that had always brought her joy when she was younger.

But these days it felt like there was another person living inside Ally, a dark shadow who refused to let her or Reggie truly live. Fear and anxiety were Ally’s constant companions now. They stalked her every move, curled up with her in bed at night, followed her into her dreams. But unlike dreams and shadows, they didn’t dissipate in the morning sun. They lingered, swirling around her head like smoke, never far.

Too risky, they whispered now. Those helmets sure don’t look very sturdy. And all those boys? You can bet they won’t go easy on Reggie just because she’s a girl. Look around, Ally. Do you see any paramedics here? Are any of these hockey players even qualified to administer first aid?

Ally rolled her shoulders and silently repeated her warrior mantra, trying to release the tension. The trick didn’t work.

What would Dan do in this situation, she wondered? She tried to ask him, tried to imagine him standing right here and talking to Roscoe LeGrand about their daughter.

But that was a pointless exercise. Dan was no help now.

The dead never were.

Desperate to keep her mind from sliding into total darkness, Ally turned to Roscoe and forced a smile. “Soooo…. You play for the NHL? What do you guys do in the off-season?”

Master conversationalist, girl. Nice job.

If Roscoe noticed her complete inability to be normal, he was kind enough not to show it. “You’re looking at it,” he said. “This is the first year we’re doing the youth clinic, but we’ve always got community relations projects going on. Fundraisers, media appearances, local stuff. Day-to-day we’re still training, too. Lots of workouts. Early morning runs, weights. Can’t get too comfortable, even in the summer.” He laughed and patted his abs, and Ally couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like under that fleece. Probably totally ripped. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to run her hands up under there, touch his hot, smooth skin…

Whoa. Where the hell did that come from?

She looked back toward Reggie, who was now skating backward, laughing as one of the other kids tried to catch up to her.

“I usually head up to Maine with my family for part of the summer,” Roscoe continued, “but this year I’m sticking around to manage the clinic, keep an eye on these little beasts.” He thumbed toward the boys at the other end of the rink and rolled his eyes, but his tone was so sweet and sincere it made Ally’s throat tighten with emotion. He loved kids—that much was clear.

Just like Dan.

Suddenly she wondered what Roscoe had meant by “family.” Parents? Brothers and sisters? Or was he talking about a wife and kids? Her gaze darted quickly to his ring finger—unadorned.

Hmm. Maybe he just didn’t wear his ring on the ice.

Or maybe Ally shouldn’t be checking out the NHL player like some kind of desperate, crazy, unstable, sex-starved maniac…

The thoughts jolted her back to reality. What was she doing? She’d come to the arena to put an end to this hockey business, not find a man. In fact, finding a man was the very last thing on her bucket list, right after skydiving and getting a double root canal.

“Well, thanks again,” she said, waving for Reggie to come back from the rink. “Looks like she had a good time.”

“Sure did,” Roscoe said. Turning to face Ally, he said, “Are you sure there’s nothing we can do to—”

“Roscoe!” One of the other players shouted. “Just got the text—the photographer is on her way. Let’s go.”

Roscoe waved at the guy. To Ally, he offered another fantastic smile as he stepped backward onto the ice, smooth and graceful and nothing like Ally’s first steps out there. “I need to get the kids ready for the photo shoot, but if you change your mind, Reggie is welcome back any time. We meet Wednesday and Friday mornings, and the tournament is August twentieth.”

“Tournament?”

“Big game against the youth team from Rochester. Should be a good time.”

“I’ll… I’ll keep it in mind,” Ally said, even though she knew she wouldn’t. An actual tournament? That sounded even more dangerous than the clinic.

“Mom!” Reggie skated up to them, her cheeks pink from exertion, her smile broad and genuine. “Did you see me?”

“You looked great out there,” Ally said, because that much was true. But it still wasn’t enough to change her mind about letting her daughter play such a dangerous sport, and neither was Roscoe’s smile, as much as she wished it could’ve been.

“Does this mean I can stay?”

Ally frowned. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“But—”

“Go get changed, baby,” she said, hiking her purse up on her shoulder like a piece of body armor. “I’ll meet you by the entrance.” Then, with one more smile for Roscoe LeGrand and a final look across the rink, Ally took an icy breath and held it, knowing that it would be her last moment of peace for a long time.