Georgeanne wasn’t about to argue with Ernie, but she’d seen John hook the blade of his stick in the other man’s skates and pull his feet out from underneath him. He’d made the whole maneuver look effortless, then he’d placed a gloved hand on his chest and looked so innocent, Georgeanne began to wonder if perhaps she’d imagined the other man sliding spread-eagle across the ice.
In the third period, Dmitri finally made a goal for the Chinooks, but ten minutes later, the Coyotes tied the score. Tension buzzed the air in the Key Arena, filling the fans and keeping them on the edges of their seats. Lexie jumped to her feet, too excited to sit. “Go, Daddy,” she hollered, as John fought for the puck, then barreled down ice. With his head down, he flew across the center line, then out of nowhere, a member of the Coyotes slammed into him. If Georgeanne hadn’t seen it herself, she wouldn’t have believed a man John’s size could cartwheel through the air. He landed on his back and lay there until the whistle was blown. Several trainers and the coach from the Chinooks bench ran out onto the ice. Lexie
started to cry, and Georgeanne held her breath, a sick feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.
“Your daddy is okay. Look,” Ernie said, pointing to the ice, “he’s getting up.”
“But he’s hurt,” Lexie sobbed, watching John slowly skate, not toward the bench, but toward the tunnel the team exited through between periods.
“He’ll be fine.” Ernie put his arm around Lexie’s waist and pulled her to his side. “He’s ‘The Wall.’ ”
“Mommy,” Lexie wailed as tears streamed down her face, “go give Daddy a Band-Aid.”
Georgeanne didn’t think a Band-Aid was going to help. She wanted to cry, too, and kept her gaze glued to the tunnel, but John didn’t return. A few minutes later, the buzzer sounded and the game was over.
“Georgeanne Howard?”
“Yes?” She glanced up at a man standing behind her chair and rose to her feet.
“I’m Howie Jones, a trainer for the Chinooks. John Kowalsky asked me to come and find you.”
“How badly is he hurt?”
“I don’t really know. He wants me to take you to him.”
“My Lord!” She couldn’t imagine why he would ask to see her, unless maybe he’d been seriously injured.
“You better go,” Ernie said as he stood.
“What about Lexie?”
“I’ll take her home to John’s, and I’ll stay with her until you get there.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, thoughts spinning so fast in her head she couldn’t seem to grasp a single one.
“Of course. Now, go.”
“I’ll call and let you know what I find out.” She bent to kiss Lexie’s wet cheeks and grabbed her jacket.
“Oh, I don’t think you’ll have time to call.”
Georgeanne followed Howie between the portable stands and through the passage where she’d seen John disappear minutes before. They walked on thick, spongy rubber mats and passed men in security uniforms. She took a right and moved through a big room with a draped partition. Worry knotted her stomach. Something terrible must have happened to John.
“We’re almost there,” Howie told her as they headed down a hallway cluttered with men in suits or dressed in Chinooks team colors. They hurried past a closed door marked “Dressing Room” and took another right through a set of double doors.
And there John sat, chatting with a television reporter in front of a big blue Chinooks banner. Hair damp and skin shining, he looked like a man who’d played hard, but he didn’t look hurt. He’d removed his jersey and shoulder pads and wore a blue T-shirt that was wet and stuck to his big chest. He still had on his hockey shorts, ribbed socks, and big protective pads on his legs, but his skates were gone. Even without all his gear, he looked huge.
“Tkachuk put a good hit on you in the last five minutes of the game. How are you feeling?” the reporter asked, then shoved a microphone in John’s face.
“I’m feeling pretty good. I’m going to have a bruise, but that’s hockey.”
“Any plans to retaliate in the future?”
“Not at all, Jim. I had my head down, and around a guy like Tkachuk, you have to be on your game at all times.” He wiped his face with a short towel, then glanced about the room. He spotted Georgeanne standing in the doorway and smiled.
“The game was tied tonight. Are you satisfied with that?”
John turned his attention back to the man interviewing him. “Of course, we’re never satisfied with anything less than a win. We obviously need to take better advantage of power plays. And we also need to get some momentum going in our offense.”