A New Path: New Beginnings, #4

By Michelle MacQueen

She wants a break from her life.

He's determined to keep it light.

Abigail doesn't take anything in life seriously. Not anymore. College is an escape from the rough world she lived in before, and Grant Mackenzie, the star hockey player, is the perfect distraction.

But there's a problem. Abigail's boyfriend won't let her go. Through threats and unearthed secrets, he tightens his hold on her, never letting her out of his clutches.

A trip with her best friend to the Caribbean is just what she needs to get away from him. She never expected Grant to be there, to soak up every thought, every look as if their short time together had changed his entire world.

But, like her, he too has secrets, secrets the boyfriend she can't escape is determined to reveal. Abigail must decide if staying with a man she hates is a fair price for saving the career of a man she loves.

 

Lose yourself in this sweet and clean story with a fun location, heartwarming characters, and a guaranteed happy ending.

A New Path is book four in the New Beginnings series. It is better read after A New Dream.

 

The New Beginnings Series:

1. A New Choice
2. A New Promise
3. A New Dream
4. A New Path

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michelle MacQueen
• Release date: Jul 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781393533443

Book preview

Chapter One

Rumors usually contain a kernel of truth. Multiple sources are telling us that General Manager John Simms is dangling star center-man Grant Mackenzie, waiting to see if anyone bites.

We’re exploring all avenues, he told the dispatch.

Next Monday is the final day trades can be made before the playoffs and no one would be surprised to see the rumor plagued Mack take the ice for a different team this spring.

The trade deadline has passed much more quietly than anyone anticipated. The question that remains in many of our minds is what does this mean for Grant Mackenzie’s future with the Columbus Cavalry. Was the asking price too high, or is it his reputation that is keeping teams away? How willing was Simms to part with arguably the best player on the team? Have his troubles been overblown?

Since his years playing junior hockey, Mackenzie had been tagged with the label lazy. True or not, it isn’t something easily shaken. Along the way, coaches and scouts have said that he has the God given talent to become one of the best in the world, but none of the drive. In his draft year, he fell from fifth overall to seventeenth largely for this reason.

And now he has been called troubled on top of that. His partying was frowned on, but allowed as long as he continued to put up points. It reached a tipping point when he was involved in an altercation at the Cavalry charity ball, the other man involved accusing Mack of being on drugs. An allegation like that cannot just be swept under the rug.

Mack is a pending free agent this summer, but all contract talks have stalled until after the playoffs. We’ll be keeping you up to date on all new developments.

Game six? No problem, Mackenzie says.

Leading the Cavalry to an impressive rout of the Washington Capitals in game six of the second round of the Stanley Cup playoffs, Grant Mackenzie played like a man possessed. He lifted the team on his shoulders after dropping games four and five. The Cavalry will move on to play the New York Islanders. If they expect to get past the Islanders, Mack will need more support from the rest of his team.

Maybe all Grant Mackenzie needed was a rumor or two to light a fire under him. He’s playing as if he’s determined to prove everyone wrong.

A bead of sweat ran down the strand of hair that clung to the grooves of a scrunched forehead. Concentration. Exhaustion. Will. That was the only thing that kept them going in game seven. A will to win. A will to get that much closer to that shining silver prize. A will to just not topple over, legs collapsing to the ice. Legs that were now ten minutes into the second overtime.

That bead of sweat arched over a brow before inching down a chiseled cheek, reddened by exertion. When it crossed the strong jaw, it hung briefly on his lips before Grant Mackenzie blew out a long breath. The small pearl sailed towards the ice, making a small splash that no one heard. It was one of the many clues that proved a battle took place in that building on that night.

The red light signaling a commercial break blinked off, and Mack bent over the face-off circle. He looked up briefly to give a slight nod to his line-mate, Carter, on his left and then focused.

The crowd was chanting and had been on their feet for the entire overtime, but Mack tried to block them out. The fast, yet steady drumming of his heartbeat pulsed in his ears, muting all other sounds. He’d never wanted a win as much as he wanted this one.

Using his size to his advantage, Mack won the face-off, sliding the puck to Carter. He took off towards center ice. One goal and they’d get the chance to do it all over again in the conference finals. Or one goal against and it would all be over. Their season would be for naught.

Mack’s tired limbs forced themselves into a long stride to try to provide support for his wingers. He’d had more ice time than any other forward, and it was wearing on him. By this point in the game, no one was at their full speed. It became a game of attrition. Who could outlast the other guys?

An Islander ran Carter into the boards, okay - more like pushed because his strength was waning. Carter took too long to recover and lost the puck.

Mack could see it as he raced up one side of the rink. The end. He knew what was going to happen. The Islander’s rubbery legs had just that much more energy in them than Carter’s as the rookie chased after the puck. A Cavalry defender moved in, but the Islander passed to his teammate, who was camped at the side of the net.

They would have been able to stop it in a normal game. They may have even been able to win the game. But tonight they had nothing left. Their tanks were empty, and it was too late.

Mack circled around the net as Islander players poured off the bench to celebrate. Any other day, Mack would have laughed at the three guys who fell over the boards because they were too exhausted to climb. The team mobbed their goaltender as Mack fell to his knees in front of his bench. His head sat heavy on his shoulders, but he strained to hold it high.

There was no sense of loss, of defeat, only a pure and complete bone weariness. It would hit him in the coming days, he knew. His season was over. But those thoughts took energy, and he was utterly depleted.

Olle, his captain, offered him a hand, and he took it to pull himself upright. The team that had been sitting in stunned silence watching their opponents celebrate moments before, now skated together across the ice.

It was the greatest tradition in sports. The hand shake. The two teams lined up and skated towards each other. The winning side said things like you played well or great series. The losing side wished them luck on their journey towards the Cup.

And then they parted, one team to continue chasing their dream, the other to start planning for next season and another chance at the playoffs.

I’m proud of you boys, Coach Peterson said, scanning the faces around the room. A few looked up while others hung their heads or leaned back into their locker stalls. Mack gripped the back of his sweat-soaked shirt and pulled it off over his head before tossing it in a nearby laundry bin.

He walked the few steps towards his stall and sat down, one hand massaging the muscles in his neck.

The coach paced in front of the team before stopping next to assistant coach Scott and continuing his obligatory speech.

You fought hard, he said. No one expected us to even get past the first round. No one believed. Except for you. You believed. You worked for it. The people in this room knew more about this team than those waiting outside those doors. We were one goal away from the conference finals. That’s a step. We’re building something great here. That’s not what you want to hear. It’s not what I want to say. No one wants to be told they’ll get their chance next year. But here we are, our season over. Next year is what we have. You can wallow in this defeat or you can go home this summer and work harder than you ever have before, preparing to do it all over again.

He looked sideways at Coach Scott and nodded.

Coach Scott stepped forward. "The media have been told none of you are available tonight. Coach Peterson and I will do the interviews. Most of you look like you could barely stand. See the trainers if it’s more than weariness. If not, hit the showers and head home to your families. Before any of you leave for the summer in the next week, we’ll be