Cade: Fire And Ice: A Second Chance Hockey Romance by Jessica Lake, Alana Hart

flew out alone with a baseball cap pulled almost all the way down over my eyes so no one would recognize me and a burning, almost painful anticipation growing inside me. I checked in to North Falls' only hotel, rented a car and then lay on the lumpy hotel bed with my legs hanging over the bottom edge, trying to work up the courage to do what I needed to.
    Finally, I decided to go for a drive around town to calm myself down a little. Nothing had changed in North Falls. Every time I turned a corner part of me expected to see Ellie there in her flimsy winter coat with her mass of dark brown hair tumbling down over her shoulders. I drove to the mini-mall where the salon where she used to work was located - it was still there, and it was open. Feeling like a creep, I parked where I had a view of the front door and waited.
    Not ten minutes later, she walked out. Her hair was different but it was definitely her. She was looking down, raking her hand through her purse, looking for something, and my heart was pounding so hard I thought it was going to burst.
    Ellie. My beautiful, sweet, lovely girl. Tears sprung up in my eyes unbidden and I swiped them away quickly, blushing hard despite the fact that I was alone. Other than her hair, which was styled neatly in a way I'd never seen it before, everything else was the same. She took a phone out of her bag and I watched her body sag as she looked down at the screen. Five years later and my only instinct when I saw Ellie upset in any way was to comfort her. I couldn't, though. Not then. I couldn't just jump out of my rental car and scoop her up in my arms no matter how much I wanted to. She had a life. A life I knew nothing about. Maybe she had another man to wrap his arms around her and kiss away all her pain.

Chapter 13: Ellie
     
    The text message from Bill was vitriolic but, I'm ashamed to say, not unexpected. My boyfriend was prone to outbursts like that and our relationship was anything but stable. He was an unemployed single father to a four year old daughter. We met at the grocery store when she accidentally dropped a gallon of milk on the floor and I, having witnessed it, took her hand and led her away from the spill while Bill went to notify another store employee.
    He was older than me, thirty-five, and not bad-looking for North Falls. That's pretty much all it took. Things were alright at first. Not like they'd been with Cade, but I'd long since put aside any fantasies about meeting a man like him again. Bill looked after the boys, allowing me to take on more work at the salon and the grocery store without worrying about who was caring for them. After the first six months, after we'd settled into a routine, things got rocky. Bill didn't seem any closer to finding a job - in fact he seemed more than happy to stay home with the little ones all day - and he started showing a petulant, angry side of his personality. He didn't hit me, though. And he wasn't an addict (although he certainly wasn't averse to a couple of nights a week at one of the local bars). That was enough. I didn't feel deprived or sad because I didn't allow myself to feel those things. I'd never had high expectations anyway. As long as my brothers were taken care of, that was good enough for me.
    Bill did have a tiresome habit of breaking up with me every few months whenever I dared to express any kind of upset with him. That time, it had been about a job opening at the hardware store in the next town over from North Falls. I'd told him about it, lent him my car to go and fill out an application, and he hadn't done it. When I asked him why he flew into a whiny rage and told me he hadn't had the time because he'd been looking after my brothers. Tired after a long day at the salon, I'd responded badly, rolling my eyes and accusing him of making excuses. Which he was - the whole reason I'd lent him the car was so he could take the kids along - but that didn't matter. I got the text at work and went outside into the