He wanted more.
Like you’re not going to fuck up more.
His phone rang, Scott popping up on the caller ID. Dan cringed. He wasn’t quite ready for a dose of his other life when he was becoming so good with this one.
But he’d made his decisions, right? Even if he left, he was coming back. Mel’s gaze met his as he swiped his finger across the screen.
“Scott?” she called.
He nodded, holding the phone to his ear.
“Good luck,” she said before turning back to her work with the gate.
“Sharpe,” he answered, Mel’s “good luck” ringing in his ears. Because he didn’t know what she was wishing good luck for. Getting a tryout? Leaving?
“Hello?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“You’re breaking up.”
Dan sighed and stepped out the back entrance of the barn to higher ground and better reception. “Better?”
He didn’t answer that question. “I got you the tryout.”
For some reason, he hadn’t been expecting it to actually be the tryout. He’d expected more I’m working on it. But, hell, time was running out, wasn’t it? “Tryout?”
“Phoenix. They agreed to take a look at you, man. I’m getting you a flight out tomorrow and the tryout will be Friday.”
“Tomorrow?” Any excitement, any burst of adrenaline went cold. “Scott, that’s not possible.”
“Of course it is. Look, I know you might be a little rusty, but if we get you an early flight tomorrow, you’ve got all day to prepare.”
“That’s not the issue.”
“Then what the hell is?”
“I have responsibilities here. I have…” Well, he wasn’t going to tell Scott about the llamas being delivered tomorrow. “I have responsibilities and I need more than twenty-four-hours’ notice.”
“You’re shitting me right now.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Dan, I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t need to know. All I need is for you to be on a plane tomorrow morning, and be ready to try out on Friday. This is your shot. I’m not sure I can get you another one.”
Dan looked around him. The way the sun blazed on the cabin, the stables, the mountains. Everything was bright and brilliant, too brilliant—too much. Overwhelming, and that wasn’t going to change. This was always going to be a big place, bigger and older and steadier than him. Always.
But he wanted it. He needed it. He’d never felt a…belonging like this. He felt good on the ice, in control, successful, and that was its own kind of good feeling, but this was more. It would endure, it would be his, and for the first time, that didn’t scare him—that actually made his place here feel exactly right.
“I can’t do it, Scott. If you can’t get me another tryout, that’s on you. I need at least a week’s notice. End of story.”
“So you’re quitting. You’re running away to fucking Idaho?”
Quitting. Running away. Sucking when it counts. “No, I’m not quitting.” But he wasn’t bending either. He was after something. Something bigger than just hockey or just the ranch. Something whole. “You get me a tryout that gives me enough time to make arrangements and get a few good skates in, I’ll take it.”
“This is fucking crazy, Dan. You cannot say no.”
“I just did.” He hit End before Scott could argue with him anymore. There was nothing to argue. He’d made up his mind and he wouldn’t falter. Not on this.
He stepped back in the barn to find Mel standing next to Mystery. She gingerly reached out, and for possibly the first time, Mystery didn’t nip at her.
If he needed any more of a sign he’d made the right choice, he could not for the life of him think of one.
“Making friends?”
She startled and Mystery must have taken her sudden movement as antagonism because she spat right on Mel’s leg.
“Oh, you fu—”
“Hey, now.”
Mel rolled her eyes at him. “So, what did Scott have to say? Tryout a go?”
He wasn’t sure why he hesitated. Maybe it was how hopeful she sounded, like she wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it was because he wanted to tell her the whole thing. Not just saying no to the too-soon tryout, but the enduring stuff. The making-this-work stuff.
He needed more time to work that out. And some motherfucking ambience when he told her. Not llama shit and hay, as much as he’d come to not be bothered by those things.
“Not yet. Close.” A lie was probably wrong, but he needed it for now.
She nodded. “Well, I’m glad it’s getting close.”
There it was again—hope that he’d leave. It shouldn’t bug him, not when he knew she didn’t think he’d stay, but… Well, whether it should or not, it bothered the hell out of him. “Why are you glad?”
“Why?” Her eyebrows drew together. “It’s what you want, right? You should get what you want.”