A Very Merry Movie in Pine Ridge

August

The engine of my truck was the only sound on the last stretch of highway winding into Pine Ridge.

I rolled the window down, and warm July air rushed in, thick with the aroma of Douglas fir. The same sharp scent greeted me every summer and told me I was finally home.

Up ahead, the Cascades sawed at the blue sky, their familiar jagged lines a constant in the skyline of Pine Ridge.

The off-season should've been my time to decompress. A few months to let the bruises fade, the aches settle, and the pressure of an NHL season to recede.

Six weeks had passed since the conference finals—a brutal game 7 overtime loss. Coach had called it "a hell of a run," but the disappointment of coming that close for the first time in three seasons still lingered.

I'd spend the next couple of months here, except for two weeks when I'd head to Vermont to work with teens at a hockey camp.

Outside of that trip, I'd spend time with my sister and niece, work in our store, and re-connect with the hometown I loved. But this summer brought unwanted pressure, and something exciting vying for my attention in Pine Ridge too.

I made the last turn onto Main Street, and my foot eased off the gas. It was like driving into a snow globe someone had shaken and then dropped into the wrong season.

Garlands of faux pine and glittering red ribbon were draped from every lamppost. Wreaths with plastic holly adorned the doors of the hardware store and the bakery. Storefronts glowed beneath rows of lights strung in bright crisscrosses above the awnings.

In the town square, a crew of people in headsets swarmed around the gazebo, its roof dusted with a layer of what looked like powdered sugar. A half-decorated Christmas tree stood next to the gazebo as someone struggled to untangle lights.

Christmas in July.

Paige had sent pictures when the transformation began last week, but seeing it in person was another thing altogether.

I couldn't help the jolt of joy at the sight of it all. I had a weakness for Christmas movies—the more romantic the better. After rough games, when my body was one massive ache, nothing beat sinking into the couch with a cup of something warm and watching some big-city lawyer fall for a small-town bookstore owner.

The fact that my friend Shawn wrote this movie made it even better. I couldn't wait to see him. Hopefully he'd give me an insider's peek behind the scenes since he'd also been teasing me with pictures for days.

I pulled into the angled parking spot in front of Reeve's Textiles, the space my mom had claimed as her own for forty years. The brick facade was the same deep red I'd known my entire life, the gold-leaf lettering on the window—Reeve's Textiles, Est. 1923—faded but proud. It was more than a building.

Five generations of sweat and determination built this place.

And it was in trouble.

The bell above the door chimed, a familiar, cheerful sound clashing with the tension in my shoulders. The store smelled as it always had: cedar from the display shelves, mixed with the vanilla potpourri we had on a low simmer by the coffee station. That aroma pulled me straight back to childhood, of hiding in forts built from bolts of fabric, and learning to count by sorting buttons with my grandmother.

My gaze drifted to the far wall, where a small sign marked "Local Artisans" hung above a display of handcrafted items. Among them were my framed embroidery pieces, signed with the simple initials "A.R." Most of the town knew those were mine, but no one made a big deal out of it. My aunt Rose taught me needlework when I was young, and it had become my meditation away from the intensity of hockey.

Paige stood behind the massive, worn cutting table that dominated the center of the space. Her brown hair, pulled back in a messy knot, framed the faint shadows under her eyes that hadn't been there when we'd seen each other a few months ago when she came to my game in Seattle. She folded a length of deep blue merino wool with careful, almost robotic precision.

She looked up and smiled. "Augie! It's good to have you home."

"Paigey." I closed the distance and wrapped her in a hug. She hugged me back as I lifted her and twirled her like I'd done from the time I'd become taller than her.

"How was the drive?" She returned to her folding. We both had the skill to work and keep up a conversation.

"Long. Traffic was a beast coming out of Seattle."

I leaned against the table and took in the store. It was quiet for a Tuesday afternoon. A couple of tourists browsed the yarn section, their voices a low murmur, but otherwise, it was just us. "So, this movie thing is really something."

Paige snorted, shooting me a look long enough to roll her eyes. "It's a circus. It's only been a week of setup, and half the town's complaining about the parking. Meanwhile, the other half is trying to get cast as an extra."

"Shawn's been blowing up my phone with pics," I said with a grin.

"And you?" She gave me a knowing look. "I bet the NHL's toughest right wing is thrilled to see how Christmas movies get made."

"No idea what you're talking about." I fought a grin and failed. "Just curiosity about what they're doing to our town."

"Uncle Augie!" Paige's ten-year-old daughter, Rose, came running up from the back of the shop.

"There she is." I squatted down and opened my arms. She crashed into me and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"It's about time you got here. Did you see all the movie stuff?"

"I did." I relaxed as I hugged her. It was impossible to be stressed with Rose, who always had a sunny disposition. Or at least she did that for me. I knew from Paige that Rose could be stubborn when she wanted to be. It was one of the ways she was like the aunt she'd been named for. "Should we go exploring and see what's going on?"

"I've been doing that for the last few days," she said as if she expected me to know that. "I can take you around to all the good stuff though?"

"I'd love that."

She bounced with excitement as I released her. "Let's go!"

"Let Augie catch his breath a minute." Paige interceded as she poured coffee into our mugs. "Besides, I bet you haven't finished your chores yet."

Rose made a face but didn't argue. "Fine." She drew out the word. "I'll finish. When he's done with his coffee, we can go. Okay?" She looked between us.

My only response was to look at Paige. I learned a long time ago not to get between mother and daughter.

"Okay," Paige said.

"Yay!" Rose took off.

Paige and I shared a smile, and she shook her head. "She's been so excited for you to get here for all the movie stuff. Between that and the filming that's going to happen here, she's hyped up as if she's had too much Halloween candy."

"I bet. It's not everyday you see something like what's going on out there."

She passed me a cup, and I blew across the surface of the hot beverage.

"So, what's the update?" I asked, my voice low so Rose and our shoppers wouldn't overhear.

She added milk and sugar to her coffee from the cart that sat next to the cutting table. We'd offered customers coffee for as long as I could remember. This table had seen all kinds of conversations over the years.

"He made offers yesterday afternoon." Her voice came out flat as she turned around, wool folding temporarily forgotten. "For the whole block. From the corner up to the movie theater."

"Donovan made an offer?" The name was foul in my mouth. Corbin Donovan. A developer from Seattle with a portfolio of glass-and-steel monstrosities and a smile that always felt a little sinister.

We'd been hearing about his reputation and whispers about what he wanted to do for a year. The phantom threat had suddenly become very real.

"I told you about that town hall meeting he spoke at two weeks ago. Slick presentation, fancy renderings of a revitalized Pine Ridge. Patios, valet parking, a luxury spa. He made it sound like he was doing us a favor."

"And people bought it?" The hot twist of anger in my gut stabbed at me every time we had to talk about Donovan's latest move. It was the same fire that made me effective on the ice.

"Some did. The ones who are tired of struggling. He said the offers would be good, and he wasn't kidding. We got one way over market value. For people like the Millers at the bakery, who are barely breaking even… it's tempting. Donovan's already painting anyone who wants to stay as obstacles to progress."

"Downtown is the heart of Pine Ridge." The words came out sharper than I'd intended. Paige didn't need convincing.

"The heart's having a coronary," she said before taking a drink of her coffee. "You know, it's been two bad winters in a row. Not enough snow for good skiing, so not enough tourists. Online retailers are eating some businesses alive. The location fee from this movie is a nice bonus, but it's only a bandage for most. Not everyone has a family member who makes excellent money and invests back into the business."

She took my hand and squeezed it. I'd been investing for a few years to make sure the staff stayed paid, the bills got covered, and the store ran with the kind of quality our parents and grandparents would be proud of.

Helping financially was the least I could do when I wasn't here working beside Paige.

I hated feeling helpless. On the ice, I always knew what to do. Outwork. Outskate. Outshoot. Do what the coaches said. Trust your teammates. Take the shot when it's there.

This was different. I couldn't check this problem into the boards to stop it.

"So what's the number?" I asked. "What's he offering us?"

The figure she said made my breath catch. With that much money on the table, I understood why some might want to sell.

Except that's not what we wanted. The store was our family's legacy. One I wanted to come back to when I retired from the NHL. Paige and I didn't want to be the last generation for Reeve's Textiles.

"And if we say no?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

"He's giving everyone until the movie wraps. He's got a couple of council members in his pocket, so who knows what he might be able to do."

I stood up and started pacing, the space between the cutting table and the quilt rack feeling too small. "Let me see what I can do. I'll talk to my agent and find out if they can recommend a lawyer to take a look. I can…"

It was the wrong thing to say. Her expression hardened.

"This isn't a problem your NHL money and connections can fix, August." Her voice dropped, the edge of annoyance sharpening her words. "This isn't about one store. It's about the whole of downtown. You can't just buy the whole block. And even if you could, what right do you have to tell others they can't sell just because we have a lifeline to weather the ups and downs? And… maybe I need a break, too. Even though we're surviving, watching the struggle is tough."

The shot landed, direct and painful. My connection to this place ran deep, anchored in memory and a hope for the future, but hers was in the here and now. I wondered if she hadn't always been truthful with me when I asked how she was doing.

We'd agreed years ago, when I got drafted, that she would handle the store on her own once our parents retired. She'd even doubled down on that after her divorce, making it clear she wanted to raise Rose in Pine Ridge and keep running the store.

For me, I had six or seven years left. Maybe I'd get a few more if I was lucky. Then, my plan was to retire here, work at the store and probably coach locally.

"I'm sorry." I rubbed the back of my neck.

"No. Don't be." Her shoulders slumped. "I'm just… tired. This guy Donovan, he walks in here with his thousand-dollar suit and his condescending smile, talking about maximizing assets, and he looks at this place…" She gestured out at the store. "And he sees nothing. Only a building to tear down."

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, the familiar prelude to a headache starting behind my eyes. Her exhaustion. Everyone's anxiety. A century of family history pressed down on me. I was the local boy who made good. The town's success story. I should be able to fix this. But Paige was right. My money couldn't solve this one.

"Okay," I said, my voice steady again. "We're not giving up. We fight. We organize the other owners who want to stay. We find a way."

Paige's smile was tired, but kind. "There's the team captain. Always got a pep talk ready."

"It's not a pep talk. It's a plan."

"It's a start," she corrected gently. "I'm glad you're home, Augie. These next few weeks are going to be tough." She came around the table and gave me another hug, this one longer. "Now, make yourself useful and help me unload the new shipment of alpaca blend before Rose takes you on her tour."

We worked in comfortable silence for the next half hour, hauling boxes and stocking shelves. The rhythm came easily—one we'd shared since we were kids. For a little while, I could pretend nothing had changed.

When we finished, Rose declared it was time to go. I said goodbye to Paige, promising to come over for dinner the next night, and stepped back out onto Main Street.

The late-afternoon sun cast long shadows. The Christmas decorations looked so out of place in the summer light and with the mid-July warmth. A string of lights draped across the entrance to my family's store cast a festive, multicolored glow on the worn brick.

Rose talked a mile a minute about the movie, the decorations, the actors she'd seen, and the equipment scattered around town.

Paige had called the movie a bandage. A circus. I looked at the tinsel, plastic holly, and the ridiculous snowbanks that weren't melting. How could something so fake be any kind of fix to save something so real?

After all, real life didn't work like a Christmas movie.

Do I need to read Hockey Hearts in order?

Nope. Hockey Hearts is loosely connected and each book works as a standalone.

What other Hockey Hearts characters are in A Very Merry Movie in Pine Ridge?

Shawn and Nick, whose story is told in The Hockey Player's Snow Day, have supporting roles here. Romance writer Shawn wrote the movie that's being shot. Nick came along to support his boyfriend and to see his friend Augie. Ethan from Pride by the Book also has a cameo. In fact, this story takes place just weeks after the events in Pride by the Book, which is where Shawn announce that a movie was in the works based on one of his stories.