Page 13 of Never Sleigh Never
Five
The Ice Queen
Logan
I ease off the gas as the Crooked Reindeer draws nearer. Every spot in the parking lot is taken. Cars even line both sides of the street. I’m pretty sure all the residents in Mount Holly are here. As I roll past the front entrance, a sign out front reads, “Meat Raffle Tonight. Hosted by the Mount Holly Community Club.” The MHCC is a non-profit charity organization that helps raise money for community members in need. Growing up, they helped when the Hendersons lost their house to a fire. When a portion of Mount Holly’s high school hockey players needed help with expenses to travel to state for the championships, they donated funds. We might not have won those state championships if we didn’t have all our best players.
Red taillights glow as a car pulls out onto the road. I speed forward to claim the spot. If anyone somehow missed the memo that I’m back, they won’t after tonight. I turn off the truck and climb out. With each step, the snow crunches under my boots as I hurry toward the door. The wind knifes under my collar, and I hunch my shoulders. With my hands jammed in my coat pockets, I continue trudging toward the Crooked Reindeer.
At the entrance, I stop and peer up. A set of reindeer antlers hang above the door, crooked as its namesake. The legend goes: When Simon’s grandfather bought the building, he hung the antlers over the door, and during the night, the right side dropped, so he straightened them out. The next night, they fell again, and the same thing happened. By the fourth night, he said to hell with it, and they’ve remained crooked ever since.
The cold, metal handle sends a shiver up my arm as I yank it open. I step inside and the noise dips just enough for a familiar voice to carry.
“If it isn’t the hockey legend himself!” Simon booms from behind the bar.
Every single person in the bar turns in my direction, and I freeze. The bar erupts into a symphony of hi and hey Logan. Heat creeps up my neck. I give them all a tight-lipped smile and a small wave. Growing up, I loved the attention. But the last three years rewired me for the quiet.
Simon and I played hockey together from peewee through high school along with Mason, Henry, and Carson. We even managed to win a few state championships together. Over the years, we kept in touch, but not a lot. There were a few times I invited the guys to Chicago to watch a game. Of course, we’d party afterward. They even met Brooke a few times. Simon came out for her funeral. Out of all of us, I was the only one to go on to play professional hockey. A European league drafted Simon, but shortly after his grandfather died, he inherited the connected bar and laundromat. Instead of playing hockey, he took over the bar. He didn’t keep the laundromat but instead turned it into a public sauna.
I approach the bar and shoulder into a gap between barstools.
“Someone buy this man a drink.” Simon points to me from the other side of the bar.
I laugh. “Just one. I’m not staying long.”
“If everyone here is buying you a drink, you aren’t driving nowhere. But no worries, we’ll get you home.” Simon pops the cap off a beer bottle and places it on a cardboard coaster in front of me before rounding the end of the bar. We clasp hands in a handshake that turns into a hybrid hug and back pat. “It’s good to see you, man. Word on the street is you’re back for good.”
“Something like that.” We pull away from each other. “How’s the bar?” I glance around at the wall-to-wall bodies. “Must be going well, since you have the entire town here.”
“Meat raffle night is always popular. The ladies also go wild for purse bingo.” Simon runs a hand through his thick black hair. “It’s been a long time. How have you been?”
“You know, same old same old. Now I’m retired from hockey, I’ve found myself with some extra time on my hands, so I thought I would slow down a little and come back to familiar grounds. Get out of the city and away from everything.” And hopefully stop feeling like I’m drowning, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“What is this I hear about you coming back to town with a twenty-foot Christmas tree?”
I huff out a laugh. “I forgot gossip doesn’t take long to spread around here.”
“It’s not gossip if it’s true. So what’s with the tree?”
“You know the empty lot across from Reindeer Ridge?”
His brows knit together. “Yeah.”
“I bought it. That tree is part of a Christmas carnival I’m organizing.”
“And you plan to do that in less than a month?”
“It’s been in the works for six. I hired a crew that specializes in pop-up events to help with the execution.”
“That definitely helps then.” He rests his elbows on the bar and leans in. “You know Brie McKenna is in charge of the Holly Jolly Festival this year, right?”
“I do.” I take a swig of my beer. Hearing her name brings back a flood of emotions, especially after my brief encounter with her earlier today. Her soft body pressed against mine. The way her fingers brushed against my chest. I harbored no hateful feelings toward Brie, but she certainly aimed truckloads at me. I never went out of my way to spite her, but also never went out of my way to befriend her either. She had her friends, and I had mine.
“And you ran into Brie.”
“I did.”
“And you were having sex on the side of the road. I guess that’s one way to welcome home the hometown hockey hero.”
