The Parent Playbook (Love on Thin Ice)

10. Scotty

CHAPTER 10

SCOTTY

“ E at that last piece,” Angel calls out as she lugs a giant ladder across the yard. “I’m gonna set up.”

The stars are out in force tonight, like a crowd at a playoff game, bright and buzzing against the quiet backdrop of the ranch. As much as I love the indoors of an arena, this cool breeze and the scent of hay is the kind of night that makes me glad to be out under the sky. It was something I always loved about working at the dog spa, running around with the four-legged rascals.

I didn’t see a ranch coming when I decided to bring Lil to Maple Falls, but it fits. Sometimes I feel like I’m on a merry-go-round. The roar of the arena is back in my life, but so is the countryside and small-town living.

Both places have their own kind of rush. On the ice, the rush is adrenaline. Here, it’s more about the steady satisfaction of fixing things, of leaving something better than I found it. It never occurred to me that I could have both.

Angel sets the ladder against the side of the barn with a thud. “You ready for this?” she calls over, a challenge in her voice that brings a grin to my face .

“Born ready,” I shoot back, jogging over to help her stabilize the ladder.

Life . One day I’m gearing up for a championship from the coaching bench, the next I’m figuring out how to keep an old barn from falling apart. But that’s the thing about life—I couldn’t have seen this coming.

I’ve met an Angel.

“Hold tight,” she shouts. “I’m going up.”

The moonlight shadows her movements. I have to take it all in as I keep a tight grip on the ladder. The quiet of the night, the rustle of the trees, and a woman who is unlike any other.

“It’s too quiet down there.” She looks over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Not admiring the view, I promise.”

“I remind you that this is a family-friendly ranch, Mr. MacFarland.” I can’t see the details of her face from her spot two stories up, but I hear the tease in her voice.

It does something to me.

We pause our nocturnal DIY marathon for a much-needed coffee break under the stars. Angel pours us each a steaming cup from a battered old thermos that looks like it’s seen its share of nights out under the stars. We find a couple of hay bales to sit on, the countryside mostly quiet except for the occasional neigh and bleat.

The chill makes the steam from our coffee seem like whispers in the dark. I take a sip, letting the warmth settle in as I glance around at the quiet expanse of the ranch.

“So, this thing with the Ice Breakers,” I start, “it sounds like it’s going to be a big deal for Happy Horizons.”

Angel nods, her face illuminated by the flicker of the lantern between us. “Yeah, it’s huge. Getting a bunch of hockey players to rally around us could really put us on the map, bring in the funds we need to expand.” She takes a sip, looking out over the fields. “Dream big, right?”

“Absolutely,” I say as an owl hoots. “Hockey’s been good to me, taken me places I never thought I’d go. It’s nice to see how it can do even more.”

She turns to look at me. “You didn’t say why you left. Was it an injury?”

“Not exactly. Leaving the game … that was tough.” The words catch slightly in my throat. “I don’t talk about it much, but my wife, Corrie, she got sick. Really sick. Suddenly the cheering crowds and flashing lights didn’t make sense anymore.”

Angel’s hand reaches out, resting gently on my shoulder. “Scotty, I’m so sorry.”

Shaking my head, I manage a half-smile. “It’s been a while. After she passed, it was just me and Lily. Had to figure out a whole new game plan.”

Her eyes remain set on mine. “Life can be so unfair,” she says as if she knows it herself.

“Oh?”

She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I grew up pretty poor myself. Sometimes food was hard to come by. This ranch,” she gestures around us, “is more than land and animals to me—it’s a promise of stability I fought to give Andy, something solid he can always count on. I always wanted it to do something like that for other kids, too.”

“Leaky roof aside, this place is amazing.”

“Yeah, now with the Ice Breakers, we might be able to secure a future that was once wishful thinking.” She gives a small, hopeful smile, then looks back at me. “Dreams coming true, who knew?” She sighs, her shoulders relaxing, and then looks at me with a half-smile. “What about you, Scotty? Ever think of getting back on the ice?”

The question stirs a host of emotions, and for a moment, the ice under bright lights seems worlds away. “I love the game,” I confess, “but stepping back out there after all I’ve lived through these years? I don’t know if I could. Plus, I’m not the player I was. ”

“Maybe it’s not about being the player you were,” Angel suggests gently, her gaze piercing yet kind. “Maybe it’s about being the person you’ve become. I see the dad you are with Lily.” She bites her lip. “I’m talking out of turn, sorry. It’s not for me to say.”

“No, no, you might be right.” Something little shifts in me at the thought, but I chalk it up to the childhood dreams I had of being an NHL star. “But coaching is the place for me now. I never thought that—” My nose twitches. I know that smell, like the warning whiff of overheated metal. “Do you smell that?”

Angel looks puzzled for a moment, then sniffs the air. Her expression changes from confusion to concern. “Yeah, I do. What is that?”

“Burning,” I say, standing up abruptly. The faint but unmistakable scent of electrical burning is one I know all too well from the rink—never a good sign. “Where’s your electrical panel? We need to check this out, now .”

Angel jumps to her feet, the color draining from her face as she leads me quickly to the stable. As we approach, the smell grows stronger, and I can almost feel the heat on my face.

“I fixed some wiring here a while back.” Her voice is tense with worry but I have to focus on the problem of wiring first. “I thought I insulated it properly.”

I reach the panel and flick it open, the acrid smell of scorched wires hitting me like a slap. “Angel, hit the main power, now!” I shout, more sharply than I intend. My heart’s pounding—from the fear of fire, sure, but also from the sudden, intense need to protect. To fix this before it gets worse.

She runs off to cut the power as I yell after her. “Bring me the electrical tape, wire cutters, and the flashlight from the barn!”

When she returns, her hands shake as she hands me the tools. “I could have killed someone. I don’t get it. How could I have been so careless?”

I look up from my work, meeting her eyes. “Hey, look at me. It could have happened to anyone—you weren’t careless. We caught it in time, and we’re fixing it. That’s what matters.” I work quickly to stabilize the wires, wrapping them securely, my hands steady even as my mind races.

Once I’m sure the immediate danger is over, I wipe my brow. “We need to check the electrical projects you’ve worked on,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice even. “It’s late, but we should make sure there’s nothing else that’s urgent.”

Angel nods, her face set in a determined line. “You’re right. Let’s do it. I can’t believe I let this happen.”

“Hey,” I put my arm around her without thinking. “No more beating yourself up. We caught it, and everything’s going to be okay now.” I remove my arm because I feel I have to. I nudge her with my elbow to hide the fact that I’d rather be holding her. “You don’t see me waving any chanclas at you.”

Angel stops and looks at me sideways. “Waving any what ?”

“Chanclas,” I repeat, feeling my neck get hot. “Haven’t you seen that viral bit on VidHits?”

“VidHits, the app ?” She laughs, and that sound fills the stable as she pours more coffee. It lightens something in me too. “You go scrolling through VidHits?”

The heat on my neck is now creeping up my cheeks. “No, but I do have a twelve-year-old daughter.”

“Ahhh.” She sits heavily onto a stool, and I suddenly feel like we are old friends sharing stories. “I forgot about the pre-teen factor.”

“To be fair,” I try to stifle a chuckle and fail, “some of the videos are pretty funny.” I clear my throat and put on a gruff, manly voice. “Not that I watch them.”

She snorts, half spitting her late-night coffee.

“Look,” I say, getting up from my perching place. “Let’s do that last check of the electrics and then call it a night. Lily has been a trooper, and I can’t thank Doug enough for taking care of her while I’ve come out, but I want to be there when she wakes up.”

“Of course.” Angel’s voice is earnest, and I know she gets it. She’s also a single parent, after all. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The final checks done—and she really did good work on the other electricals—we drop onto a bench on the ranch house’s porch.

It’s time to say goodbye. For some unknown reason, saying goodbye feels entirely unnatural.

“I’ll catch you again soon, huh?” is the best I can come up with.

“You really are cut from a different cloth, Scotty MacFarland,” Angel says, her voice a whisper in the stillness, her hand brushing mine lightly on the seat of the bench. It’s a simple touch, but it sends a jolt through me, electric and calming at once.

I turn to look at her, and the silence stretches. I’m lost in her gaze. The moonlight, the early morning air, and her—it’s all too perfect.

“I … uh,” I start, but my voice trails off.

Everything about her is overwhelming.

Drawing a deep breath, I muster a lighthearted tone, though my heart pounds fiercely against my chest.

“I guess I should be saying I hope not to see you again under emergency circumstances, but …” I pause, my hand inching closer to hers on the bench. “Honestly, I’d like to see you again soon. Very soon.”

Angel’s lips curve into a sly, sardonic smile but with twinkling eyes. “Careful, Scotty,” she teases, her voice low and husky, “keep that up, and you might find yourself on permanent ranch duty.”

I laugh, the sound more nervous than intended, and nod, my gaze fixed on hers. “So noted.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a blur of movement. Edgar.

“He stole the wire cutters!” I point to the tool dangling precariously from his mouth. “Don’t goats sleep? ”

The absurdity of it makes me laugh as Angel springs up and sets off after Edgar. “Edgar!”

“Looks like he’s really got your goat!”

“Now is not the time for jokes, Scotty!”

The goat, seemingly aware of the game he’s ignited, dodges with unexpected agility, his hooves clacking against the wooden barn floor as we’re in hot pursuit. Wire cutters swing from his mouth like a trophy.

“Edgar, you thieving little rascal!” Angel shouts, though I hear a smile in her voice. She’s quick, but Edgar is quicker, zigzagging around buckets and over tools strewn on the ground. Angel almost catches him near the feed bins, but Edgar, with a defiant bleat, darts away at the last second, the wire cutters still secure in his grip.

“Looks like your goat-wrangling skills need a little work.” I can’t stop the tease in my voice as I watch her finally corner Edgar by an old oak tree.

With a swift, practiced grab, she retrieves her tool from Edgar’s mouth. “See everything you’re missing out on?” she retorts as she heads back, Edgar in tow.

She says it as a joke, but she’s hit the nail right on the head.

This is exactly what I’m missing out on.