They’d informed their insurance company of their plan to turn the operation over to Dodge. The insurance had totaled the Otter, leaving Dodge with a check.

He had his eye on a particular de Havilland Beaver that still needed repairs.

Now, Dodge rose and shook his father’s hand.

“Copper Mountain is in good hands,” Guy said, his smile bright against his dark skin as he also shook Dodge’s hand. He had a wife and two daughters and had recently moved to Copper Mountain from Georgia, his Southern drawl a reminder of the mix of residents in their tiny town.

“I hope so,” Dodge said.

“I know so,” his father added.

“I read about the poachers and Charlie in the Good News,” Guy said as he walked them to the door. “How is Charlie doing?”

“He was discharged a week ago,” Dodge said. They stood in the entryway, icicles hanging from the roof of the timber-framed building. Outside, the town had been festooned with all the trappings of this weekend’s Rowdy—twinkly lights on the outside-eating decks with giant outdoor heaters pumping out a homey warmth. On the porch of the nearby town hall—an old church converted to a gathering place and theater—a handful of local bands took the stage, adding a folksy ambiance for the tourists who roamed Main Street. Local shops had flung open their doors, with sales signs posted outside. The public parking lot was jammed with cars, and a couple local sled dog groups had lines in front of their barking teams, children waiting to take a ride behind a team of huskies.

But the locals were congregating around the nearby hockey arena, and Dodge glanced at the wall clock in the office.

His father must have seen him. “I’ll see you at the game.”

Dodge lifted a hand to Guy, walked out onto the street, and got into his truck. He’d dug his hockey gear out of the basement closet a few days ago, gotten his skates sharpened at Ace’s, and picked them up this morning.

He couldn’t wait to face down Moose and Axel Mulligan, Topher Dahlquist, and the other townies, an old competitive spirit igniting inside him.

Wow, it felt good to be back. He’d even found his own Copper Mountain Grizzlies jersey.

The smell of pizza and caribou barbecue seasoned the air, and country music filtered down the street.

Dodge dearly hoped Echo would attend tonight’s breakup dance. He hadn’t seen her since they dropped off George over a week ago. She’d been spending time at the hospital, then at home, helping her father settle back in.

Effie had moved home with him.

Dodge still couldn’t believe that Echo had stood in front of her undeserving—at least, in his opinion—mother and said she’d try to forgive her.