Emmett is great company. He’s hilarious, especially when Van is on the ice. I’ve never spent time with anyone who has Down syndrome before this. I hadn’t really given much thought to how different my life is from those with a disability, but after meeting Emmett, I realize he’s just like me. Or, he’s just like his brother. They seem to share the same sense of humor. They say exactly what they mean, and I don’t know why, but I just feel lighter around the two of them. Like all of my drama and the crazy that comes with being a celebrity isn’t so important anymore.
Sitting here with him, watching Van on the ice, it makes me feel like an idiot for running away, and at the same time, I don’t want to leave. I like this rink, I like spending time with Emmett, and I like watching number sixty-nine—the irony isn’t lost on me, either. I’d like to do just that with him. But what I don’t like is seeing one of the members of Van’s team confront him. I can’t hear what the men are saying, but I can feel the tension from halfway across the rink. The other guy gets closer, and shoves Van with his stick, and then all hell breaks loose.
“What the fuck?” Emmett gets to his feet. He shouts at the men on the ice, but my ears start to ring because Van’s teammate is punching him in the head, and right when it looks as if Van might get his own back, he goes down in a heap. His head smacks off the ice, and the whole rink seems to collectively hold its breath. It all happens so fast. Someone shouts for the medic, and Van is swallowed from my view by several huge bodies crowding around him. I’m on my feet now too, my hand pressed against my mouth, my eyes glued to the scene before us. Another scuffle breaks out, and the teammate who’s been by Van’s side this whole practice punches the brute who took Van down. Emmett and I scurry closer, our noses pressed to the plexiglass, but the wall of hockey players surrounding Van hasn’t moved. A team of people skate across the ice to Van, and block our view.
“Oh, my god.”
“He’s okay. Fights happen all the time,” Emmett says, but his palm is flat against the glass, and somehow, I think he’s only remaining calm for my benefit.
“They do?”
“Uh-huh,” he says, but he’s frowning. “He usually gets up quicker than this though.”
“Is there something we can do?”
“Nope, just stay out of the way.”
A stretcher is wheeled onto the ice, and after a few minutes, Van is lifted onto it and wheeled down the tunnel. “Where are they taking him?”
“Hospital,” Emmett replies, his voice grim. The teammate who’d been talking to Van before he got hit skates over to our side of the rink and motions to the penalty box. His face is dripping sweat and blood onto his jersey. Emmett and I move closer.
“Hey, Em. Van’s hit, pretty bad.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, and he glances at me.
“I’m Eli,” he says in a strange half-French accent.
“Stella.”
Eli blinks a moment and does a double take. His gaze penetrates my ruse, and I swallow, hard. He grins. “That sly dog. No wonder he was so cagey.”
“Please don’t say anything.”
“Secret’s safe with me, sweetheart. Now, what are we going to do with you two?”
I frown. “I can drive Van’s Hummer to the hospital.”
“No!” Emmett shakes his head vigorously. “The last time she drove she ended up crashing into our mountain.”
Eli chuckles, as if Emmett was trying to be funny, but when he sees the expression on my face, he balks. “You can’t drive?”
“I can,” I protest. “I just haven’t had a whole lot of experience, and that moose came out of nowhere.”
Eli wipes a hand over his face. It comes away bloody. “Okay, well I’ll take you guys back to the cabin. They won’t let us in the hospital room with him anyway—not until they’ve run a shitload of tests. I’ll bring him back when he gets the all-clear from the doc.”
“I can drive,” I say, resolutely. I don’t want to go back to the cabin. I want to be with Van. I can’t stand the thought of him being all alone in the hospital. “He’s going to be okay, right?”
“Sure, he is, but Gagnon may not be.” Eli glances across the ice at his teammates and coaches. The guy who hit Van is bleeding profusely from the mouth and head. Good.
“He’s a dick.” I’m filled with hate. I have half a mind to climb over this glass and go beat the crap out of him myself.
Eli chuckles. “Yes he is.”
“Listen, everyone’s leaving, but sit tight here. You’ll have less chance of being spotted. Once all these people are gone, I’ll meet you at Van’s car.”
“Okay.” I nod, and sit down in the seat closest to me. My legs are a little wobbly. When I glance at Emmett, he’s visibly just as shaken as I am. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “It happens all the time. Welcome to the world of hockey, Stella Hart.”
I sigh. If this is my introduction, I’m not sure I want to stick around for the championships.
Emmett and I walk somberly through the empty stadium and out into the crisp morning air of a beautiful Calgary day. I lean against the truck, suddenly bone-tired, and wonder if Van is okay. Is he awake? Is he in pain? He hit the ice so hard—I can’t see how he wouldn’t be. Eli comes out of the building along with several teammates, and it kills me to have to hang back and not rush over, but I wait until he says goodbye and practically spring at him as I hand him Van’s keys. “I wanna go to the hospital.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “It’ll be crawling with reporters by now. I’m guessing no one knows you’re still here.”
“But Van’s hurt.”
Eli grins. “Yeah, and he’ll live.”
“We should be there.”
“Why? So, we can sit around a waiting room all day, being asked for autographs?” He leans forward, looming over me the way Van might. “No. You and Emmett will go to Van’s. I’ll bring him home when he’s done.”
“But—”
“Wow, you really don’t give up, do you? Listen, I don’t know how long this little thing has been going on, but I know you’re not Emmett’s speech therapist.”
I frown in confusion. “He told you that?”
“Yeah, and if he wanted to keep it from me, he wants to keep you around a little longer. Now, he’s gonna need someone to nurse him back to health, and judging by the look on your face, I’d say you’re not opposed to that idea.”
I blush. “I . . .”
“It’s okay, sweetheart—he has that effect on everyone.” He winks and climbs into the car. I open the front door and scramble in beside him. Emmett is already in the back.
“He’s going to be okay, right?”
“He’ll be fine. The coach said he was asking to get back on the ice as they put him in the ambulance. They’ll run a few tests, and likely release him in a couple hours. We all take a hit at some point.” Eli turns on the engine and peels out of the parking space. “Em, you wanna call your mom and have her come home from that conference a little early? It’s probably best if you stay with her or me tonight so that Van can rest. He won’t be able to drive for a few days.”
“I can drive,” I say in a monotone.
“Yeah, that’s not the best plan. Accidents tend to draw a crowd.”
I glare at him. “Hey, screw you. I’m not that bad. I don't even know why you’re driving us now.”
“Because Emmett is pretty particular about who he gets in the car with. Right, Em?” Eli says, looking in his rear-view mirror at the man in question.
“I’m on the phone, dickweed,” Emmett snaps. Eli chuckles, but I don’t have the heart to laugh, not when I’m so worried about Van.
Eli floors it through the same security gate I passed with Van just a few hours earlier, but this time everything feels different. I don’t know what to do. I should hop on the next flight back to Nashville, but the thought of leaving now twists my stomach and sends my heart hammering against my ribs. I don’t want to leave. I want to know that he’s okay. I want to be useful. I can’t abandon Van when he needs someone to take care of him the way he’s taken care of me.
Emmett continues to talk to his mother from the backseat, and Eli is busy navigating through the downtown Calgary traffic. I ball my hands into fists, and tap my foot impatiently. I don’t know why I’m so on edge. Eli said Van would be fine, but I can’t help thinking of him lying in a hospital bed somewhere all alone.
“Turn the car around,” I say impulsively.
“No.” Eli shakes his head.
“Turn the car around; he can’t be there by himself. He—”
“Stella, you walk in that hospital, and all of this blows up in your face. There will be paps and reporters banging down his front door wanting to get just a glimpse of the two of you together. You can’t be seen with him, or it’s all over, and I’m betting your people want you back pretty badly, or they wouldn’t be offering a reward for information on your whereabouts.”
“What?”
“All of Canada is trying to find you.”
“Oh my god.”
“You walk into that hospital, and you kiss the peace and quiet of Van’s cabin goodbye,” Eli says. I let my head fall back against the seatback with a sigh. “What the hell are you running from?”
“I don’t know. My life, the fans, the paparazzi—everything.”
“What’s so bad about all of those things?”
“I don’t know. I just—I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t breathe.” Tears prick my eyes, and I gulp back mouthfuls of air, but it’s as if my lungs are covered in shrink wrap.
“Shit. Take a breath, sweetheart. I can’t have you passing out on me today, too.” We’re on the highway now, but Eli pulls over into the emergency lane and brings the car to a stop. He winds down my window and unbuckles my belt, and I grab hold of the doorframe, gasping. I don’t get out, but I rest my head in my hands until the cool air calms my flushed skin and I can breathe easy again. “Jesus, Stella, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”
“It’s okay,” I say, after several deep breaths. “Just your standard panic attack. I have them every time I perform, but the worst of them sent me running away from a stadium full of people.”
“Are you sure it’s worth it then?”
“I’ve been asking myself that a lot lately.”
“Stella?” Emmett says. “If you quit, you have to come live with us so I can hear your music. And if you get panicked you can just take a deep breath and we’ll wait.”
I smile wistfully at him. The Ross boys sure know how to steal a girl’s heart. “Thanks, Em. That makes me feel a little better.”
“Em’s smarter than us all.” Eli holds his fist out for Emmett to bump. Emmett smacks it hard with a chuckle, and Eli shakes his wrist out as if that hurt. I don’t blame him; it sounded painful.
“Damn straight,” Em crows.
Eli turns to me. “You ready to hit the road again?”
“Yeah. I think so.”
Silence falls over the car, and for a long time I think about what Emmett said. The strange thing is, I could see it. I could see me letting it all slip away. Uprooting my entire life and hiding out at Van’s cabin for the rest of my days. Which is completely crazy. I mean, we don’t annoy one another that much, but I hardly know the man. The idea of leaving everything I worked so hard for is insane. Who does that? No. I need to go back. I’m just not ready to face the music yet, but I will be. I’ll help nurse Van back to health—assuming he doesn’t follow down the path my house plants took because I couldn’t keep a single one alive—and then I’ll go back home to Tennessee with my tail between my legs. I’ll forget all about Van Ross, and his Rocky Mountain home that has been my refuge for the last two weeks, because I am Stella Hart. Nashville’s sweetheart.
It doesn’t matter that I might break my heart in the process.