“Not at all. I’m not going anywhere.”
I drag a chair over to sit near her. “So, what animal would you compare to treating hockey players?”
She does a snort-slash-laugh combo. “I didn’t see that question coming.”
I shrug. “Just thought it would add a little humor to the interview.”
“Nice. I like it.” She rolls her lips in as she thinks. “Let’s see. I would compare treating a hockey player to…” Her studious expression transforms into delight, “aturtle!”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I’m guessing Nick inspired that one.”
“How do you know Nick?” A mix of curiosity and suspicion tinges her tone.
I give her a sheepish look. “I did the article about the mysterious philanthropist who funded the Turtle Patrol program.”
Hannah lets out a soft gasp. “Oh, I loved that article. Nick really appreciated you keeping his identity out of it.”
“I totally understood. So, back to the turtle analogy, please. I can’t wait to hear this one.” I sit with my pen poised, ready to capture the meaning behind her intriguing comparison.
She giggles, then lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, they wear all that gear for protection, but underneath, they’re as squishy as the rest of us.”
“But with muscles.” I laugh.
“I’m speaking metaphorically. They’re tough on the ice, but in life, they’re some of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met.”
Of course, my thoughts flit to Luke. Anytime I’ve managed to get past his protective walls, I’ve caught glimpses of a guy willing to make great sacrifices for those he loves, like leaving hockey to take care of his sister.
I hold up my camera. “Do you mind?”
“No, not at all.” She pushes a rogue curl out of her face.
After taking a few shots of Hannah, I pull out my notebook again to jot down her answers as I question her about her return to Sarabella and starting her own practice. “When I get done with this assignment, I’d love to write a follow-up piece on you and Nick for a column I’m hoping to write for the paper. Would you be interested?”
She tugs a card holder out of her pocket and pulls out a card. “Sure. Give me a call when you’re ready.”
I slip her business card into my bag, then slip it over my shoulder with the intent to go out to the game. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
Before Hannah can reply, she’s on her feet, studying thescreen as the ref extends a fisted hand out to his side to signal roughing.
I step closer to get a better look. One of the players is down on the ice, holding his knee. My heart thumps to my feet when I recognize the jersey number…twenty-four.
The ref and several teammates surround him until the team doctor comes on the scene with his team. Hannah and I continue to watch as they help him up and lead him off the ice.
Hannah turns to me. “Time to get to work.”
I clutch my bag closer. “Mind if I stay? What goes on behind the scenes is just as important.”
She pauses as if in thought. “I don’t see why not. Just stay out of the way.”
“Sure thing.” I pick a spot in the back corner as the doctor and one of the trainers help Luke to a treatment table. His glance skims across the room but stops when he notices me. And I think he might have smiled. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on my part, and he’s just grimacing because of his knee.
Hannah elevates the head of the table so Luke’s sitting up while the doctor removes his sock and shin guard. “Could be a sprained MCL, but let’s get some ice on it and give it a few minutes.”
While Hannah retrieves an ice pack and lays it over Luke’s knee, Payton waddles in next with a bloody cheek and perches on the second treatment table.
Luke frowns at him. “What did you do, Pay?”
Payton shrugs. “Got into a bit of a scrum with the idiot that roughed you up.”
