John Biebe sighed and ran his fingers through his shoulder-length chestnut hair, pushing it back from his face in an almost habitual motion. His wife Donna had just stormed from the room, and her words "I chose you, John. Give me some credit for that at least." still hung in the air.

He moved slowly over to the kitchen table, pulling a chair out and taking a seat. He buried his head in his hands, wondering how he could make things right. All through their twelve years of marriage, the specter of her high school boyfriend, Charles Danner, had haunted him. He knew Charlie was Donna's first love, and that she'd never quite gotten over Charlie leaving Mystery, Alaska for New York to make a living as a writer. Yes, she had chosen John, three years later, after he'd moved to Mystery to be a deputy for the town's Sheriff.

John smiled as he thought back to those days, nearly 14 years ago now, when he'd been so eager to fit in with his new townsfolk. Luckily, he'd been playing hockey since he was a little boy, and Mystery was a town that ate, slept, and breathed the sport. They had something called the "Saturday Game", which was more heavily attended than the little church on the outskirts of town. John had been so proud the day he'd gotten a call from the mayor, James Fischer, telling John that he'd been chosen to play on the team.

Then there was Donna... She'd been so pretty at 19. John chuckled to himself as he remembered the day they'd met. He had been practicing on the pond, placing several hockey pucks in a line, and then skating at them from different angles to take shots at the goal. He had just two left to go, and was winding up for a shot, when suddenly his skates slid out from underneath him, and he went down, hard, on his butt. He lay there, stunned, wondering how the heck that had happened, when the sound of laughter reached his foggy brain. Not just any laughter, but distinctly... female.

John rolled to his side and looked up into the stands to see a young girl in a pink hat, with matching scarf and gloves, laughing so hard she was almost crying. "I'm sorry", she gasped, trying to control her laughter. "You were concentrating so hard, and then you just fell on your butt." She started to giggle again.

John realized he must've made quite a picture, falling like that, and his sense of humor got the better of his bruised ego. "My feet must've went out from under me", he said, flashing the girl an embarrassed grin as he got to his feet and skated over to where she was sitting. "I'm John Biebe, by the way."

"I know. You're the new deputy. Congratulations on making the Saturday Game so quickly." she replied with a smile. "I'm Donna Young."

"Nice to meet you, Donna." Now that he was closer, John could see she had light brown hair and brown eyes. She was so pretty, the glow on her cheeks matching her hat and scarf. "I guess I'm going to call it quits... I don't want to be too sore to play tomorrow." On impulse, he looked at her, a question in his blue-green eyes as he asked, "Would you like to go get some lunch?"

"Sure, I'd like that." had been her reply. The first of many lunches, they had made them a regular event, Donna meeting John at the pond every Friday as he finished his practice.

John was snapped back to the present by the phone ringing in the kitchen. He jumped up to answer it, not wanting it to wake up their three sons, who were sleeping soundly. "Hello?"

"Johnny, it's Betty. We need you at the office. There's been an accident." came the voice over the phone. "I'll be right there." John answered, hanging up the phone and moving towards the door. He'd been the sheriff in town now for almost five years, taking over when old Eddie Jones had retired. He slipped on his coat, furry hat, and boots and headed out the door.

Donna sat on the edge of the bed, hoping John would come after her. When he didn't, she lay down on the bed, tears forming in her eyes. She hated it when they fought. They'd been doing more and more of that lately, especially since the summer before, when Charlie had come back to visit Mystery, supposedly to write an article about their hockey team for Sports Illustrated.

Charlie. As always, the thought of him was a combination of pain and pleasure. She loved John, but Charlie had been the first, her first love. They'd been so young, still in high school. She and Charlie had shared a literature class their sophomore year, and had been inseparable ever since.

He had been so full of dreams, wanting to write the "Great American Novel" and win the Pulitzer Prize. Somehow, he had never quite seemed to fit in with the rest of the town. Maybe it was because he "skated like a girl" in a town where most guys could play hockey by the time they could walk. Or maybe it was because he had always wanted to "peek over the snow bank" at the world outside.

Whatever the reason, Donna had only been slightly surprised their senior year when Charlie confided in her one morning that he was going to go to New York. What had stunned her, however, was the fact that he was leaving *immediately*. "But Charlie, you weren't going to go until after we graduated..."

"I know, Donna. But don't you see, I have to do this. I can't stay here anymore." Charlie had seemed genuinely distressed, like he would go out of his mind if he stuck around.

"You promised we could go together!" Donna was upset, feeling the tears starting to fill her eyes as her heart felt like it would break. "Charlie, I know you're 18, but I'm not going to be 18 until summer. You promised to wait, you promised!"

"I know I did, Donna. I know. I need to go now. I have an opportunity to do some writing for a paper in New York, and if I don't take the job, I may never get another chance." Charlie sighed. "Look, I'll go ahead and get settled, then you can come out in the summer."

Donna jerked her thoughts back to the present as the phone rang, hearing John answer, then head out the door. "Another problem", she muttered to herself. She went and checked on the boys, making sure they were still asleep. They could sleep through almost anything, just like John.

John. He was a good man, strong, patient, kind, and a great father. Donna smiled a little, images of their wedding day in her mind. He had looked so handsome in his tux, his hair short and no sign of the beard that he would grow a few years later. He'd been 21 then, barely a man, and she was still a girl at 19. They'd been so happy those first few years. She thought she'd put Charlie behind her, and John obviously loved her very much. She'd needed John's strength and devotion then, and a part of her had been proud to catch the handsome, eligible young deputy. Donna sighed, wondering how they had grown so far apart.

John got into the Bronco, hoping it would start. They had three of them in the Sheriff's Department, and all three were due for replacement. He breathed a sigh of relief when it started, and drove the short distance to town, glad for the distraction of work.

Arriving at the office, he came in the front door, surprised to find a group of strangers hovering over a woman who was holding a bloody towel to her head.

"What's up?" he asked, shooting a questioning look at Betty as the group of strangers parted to let the sheriff through. He recognized Janice Pettieboe, the reporter from the news network who was there to cover the hockey game between the Mystery boys and the New York Rangers, a professional team.

"Miss Pettieboe fell coming out of her hotel, and she wants to speak to a lawyer." Betty couldn't hide the laughter in her eyes as she looked first at John, then the woman in the chair.

"This is a disgrace", Janice Pettieboe interrupted. "You folks should de-ice the sidewalk. It's a hazard, and I'm very upset."

"I can see that." John flipped open his notebook. "Let me get an official report going here. You said you were on your way out of the hotel?" John heard a snort from Betty that she quickly covered up with a cough.

"Yes, yes I was. I was on my way to the diner, and was doing just fine until I stepped onto the sidewalk. I slipped on the icy pavement and hit my head on the light pole." Janice was sputtering in her righteous anger, clutching the towel like a trophy. "Why wasn't the area de-iced?"

"Well, you see, Miss Pettieboe, with the temperature being so low here, it would freeze up again in an hour or two. We mostly wear boots with a good tread on them to keep from slipping." John was eyeing her shoes, which were more suited for walking in the mall than in Mystery. "You are aware that we don't allow anyone to wear 'tennis shoes' outside of the gym or indoor areas? It's for your own protection, as they don't grip well enough." He flashed Betty a look as she had another "coughing fit".

"Are you telling me, Sheriff, that there's a *law* here against wearing tennis shoes???" Janice was nearly red with indignation.

"Yes, ma'am, we'd had so much trouble with it that they decided to make it official." John didn't know how he managed to keep a straight face, especially since Janice was now a lovely shade of purple.

"You... oh... I... This is UNBELIEVEABLE!" Janice's voice rose higher and higher with every word, and John wondered if he was going to have to call the ambulance. She struggled to her feet, the horde of network men rushing to assist. "This is the most insane place I've ever been!" she spat the words at him as she tried to march out the door. "Freezing, icy, law against tennis shoes..." could be heard as the group finally left.

John and Betty waited exactly five seconds before bursting into laughter. "A LAW against tennis shoes?" Betty gasped, wiping her eyes from the tears. "GodSakes, John, wherever did you think that up? I thought she was gonna burst!"

John chuckled. "I don't know, Betty. It just came to me." He flipped the notebook closed and tossed it on the front desk. "Guess I'll head back home."

"G'night, John, and thanks for the help. I never thought I'd get rid of her."

"Night, Betty. That woman's been a pain in the ass ever since Charlie brought her here." John walked out the door and back over to the Bronco. Charlie... why did he have to bring that up? Damn. He drove home, his mind on other things.

Donna wandered into the kitchen, pausing to look at the photos on the wall. There was a collage of John, put together by her best friend, Mary Jane. Pictures of the boys, of course, and a few of her and John together caught her eye.

There was the one taken at their tenth anniversary. Donna touched the glass, smiling fondly. John had surprised her with a trip to Fairbanks, a romantic dinner at the best restaurant in town, followed by the honeymoon suite filled with flowers, and finally... the small black box with a beautiful anniversary band. They'd been young again that night. No children, no fights, no wondering "What if?". It was just the two of them, more mature, but still loving each other. At least, that's what she'd thought.

Another picture, this one taken only a few months ago when John's parents visited from Canada. He looked tired, she thought. Maybe she was reading too much into it. His mom had asked her then if things were okay between the two of them. Did she see something Donna didn't?

The phone rang, and she went to pick it up, figuring it was John calling to tell her he'd be gone awhile. "Hello, Donna, I was hoping you'd answer the phone." Charlie's voice, surprising her.

"Charlie? Why are you calling?" Donna was surprised to hear a quaver in her voice.

"I was hoping we could talk. Donna, what's wrong?"

Charlie's concern was her undoing. "Oh God, Charlie. John and I had a fight. It's been happening so much now." She was near tears again.

"Donna, is he there? Can I come over?"

"He's out on a call but I don't know when he'll be back." Donna wanted to see him, but realized it probably wouldn't be the smartest thing, especially if John came home and found him there.

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Charlie, look... it's not a good time. I do want to talk with you though. I'm starting to think things may need to change."

"Change? Donna?" Charlie didn't dare to hope he'd heard correctly, even as she put the phone down. He thought he'd lost Donna forever when he moved to New York. He always intended that she come to New York and marry him, but it never seemed to be the right time. She wouldn't defy her parents by leaving before she turned 18. Then, when he'd come back to Mystery for her graduation, they'd fought and he left for good.

At least, until last summer. He'd come back on assignment from Sports Illustrated, to write about the hockey team. It was a big break for him, and one he hoped would get him a regular column, or at least steady work. What had surprised him were his feelings upon seeing Donna again. She was still so beautiful, even after three children. He was jealous, he realized. Jealous of John Biebe, because he was living with the woman Charlie still loved.

Donna had been sweet to him that summer, but reserved, always keeping him at arm's length. He didn't get to talk with her alone. She was always careful to have someone around, as if she needed the support.

He thought back to their conversation the other day, when he'd asked her if she was happy. She had replied yes, but he wondered if there wasn't more to that than she'd let on. If she was truly happy with John, then so be it. But if she wasn't...

Charlie made a resolution to talk with Donna tomorrow, no matter what.

"...things may need to change." Donna hung up the phone quickly, her heart racing. She couldn't believe she'd just said that. What was she thinking?

She heard the Bronco pull up, and dashed down the hallway. She went into the bedroom and stripped off her clothing, hopping into bed and hoping John would think she was asleep. She knew it was a bit childish, but she really didn't feel like trying to deal with things tonight. As she realized he wasn't coming in right away, she relaxed and started to drift off to sleep. "When did we stop trying to make up before bed..." was her last thought before sleep claimed her.

John pulled up in front of his house, killing the lights and shutting the engine off. He sat there in the Bronco, not wanting to go inside. His thoughts were whirling, and he had a terrible headache. What was it about Charlie Danner that drove him so crazy? Thinking back to his fight with Donna, John realized that he'd practically come out and accused her of... what? Still loving Charlie? She was right, he shouldn't be so jealous of her smiling at another man. He just got so damn mad, then hurt, hearing her laughter and watching her smile *that* smile at someone else, especially when that someone was Charles Danner.

John sighed, realizing he wasn't thinking clearly. He figured Donna was in bed, probably asleep by now. Once there was a time he'd have tiptoed into the bedroom and woken her up slowly and lovingly, sharing intimate caresses before they both fell asleep in each other's arms. When had that changed? And... why?

He still loved Donna as much as the day he married her. In fact, he probably loved her even more now than he had then. They'd shared so much together, buying and moving into the cabin, the death of her parents suddenly a year later, the birth of each of their children...

He gathered up his thoughts and walked into the house, noting that she had left the kitchen light on for him. Either that or she'd never come out of the bedroom. He sighed again, taking off his boots, coat, and hat, and running his fingers through his hair. Walking over to the closet, he took out a pillow and blanket, not wanting to wake her and start things all over again. Once they had made a promise never to go to bed mad at each other. He wondered when they had stopped taking that promise seriously.

He slipped out of his jeans, sweater, and turtleneck, curling up on the couch and pulling the blanket over himself. He tossed and turned, beginning to wonder if he'd even sleep that night, determined to get up early so the boys wouldn't see him out here. Besides, he had to make things up to Donna. With that thought, he fell asleep.

Donna woke up the next morning, turning to find John's side of the bed cold and unused. Briefly she wondered if he'd even come home last night, then realized she heard him talking to Michael, their oldest son, out in the living room. "Hmm." He must've slept on the couch. It wasn't the first time he'd chosen not to come to bed.

She lay there, trying to figure out if she should go out and join them. It was a Sunday, so the boys didn't have to go to school. It was silly of her to stay in bed because of a fight; she and John had gotten through worse disagreements.

Determined to put on a happy face for the children, she got out of bed, slipped on a robe, and went to take a shower.

John was rudely awakened early in the morning when his sons Mike and Joey pounced on him. "Oof," he gasped as Mike landed on his stomach.

"Come ON, Dad" Joey giggled, pulling at John's arm, "we want to go skating!" He grinned as John got to his feet.

"Well squirt, you'd better go get your gear then, eh?" John couldn't help but smile as Joey ran down the hall to get his stuff. "What about you, Mike?"

"Dad, why were you sleeping out here on the couch? Is mommy mad at you?"

John was silent for a long moment. He had wondered when their oldest boy would start to pick up on the tension between his parents. "Look, Mike..." He gazed down at his son thoughtfully. "I came in late last night, and I didn't want to wake your mom. Okay?" He tried to smile reassuringly.

Mike looked up at him, wanting to believe his father yet somehow knowing there was more to the story. "Sure, dad. I understand. I'm going to go get my skates and help Joey."

John watched Mike trot down the hall, knowing that he and Donna wouldn't be able to hide their troubles from the boys much longer.

Donna came out from the bathroom, towel-drying her hair. She stopped at the entrance to their bedroom, startled to see John standing there in only his jeans. He didn't see her there, and for a moment she looked at his body, her eyes caressing his broad shoulders, muscular arms, and powerful torso. He was a beautiful man, she thought.

John heard a small noise and turned to find Donna in the doorway, looking at him in a way she hadn't in quite a while. She looked so sweet, wearing the robe he'd given her for her birthday, a big white fluffy towel wrapped around her neck, and wet hair leaving wispy tendrils around her face.

Before he could speak, Mike and Joey grabbed her around each of her legs, both babbling excitedly about how dad was taking them skating this morning.

"Boys, grab your stuff and meet me by the door. Give your mom some room." He chuckled as they hugged Donna one last time then ran off again. "I hope you don't mind. They've been wanting to go and this is the first chance weâve had."

"No, John, I don't mind. I've got some things to take care of this morning and it will be nice not having them underfoot."

"Okay, thanks sweetheart." John wanted to say more, but Donna turned and walked away. He finished dressing, rounded up the boys and headed out the door.

Donna dressed and checked on her youngest son, making sure he was happy and comfortable in his playpen. She had just finished blow-drying her hair when the doorbell rang. "Who on earth could that be?" she wondered to herself as she went to the door.

"Hello, Donna."

"Charlie."

"You said we needed to talk, so here I am!" Charlie couldn't quite decide if she looked happy to see him.

"Hi. Yes, I did say that, didn't I?" Donna motioned for him to come in, shutting the door behind them.

Charlie went over to the kitchen table, making himself comfortable as Donna poured herself a cup of coffee.

She looked over at him. "Coffee?"

"Sure, thanks."

"Still take it with cream and sugar?"

"Yes. I'm surprised you remembered that, Donna."

"Oh you'd be amazed at how much I remember." She cryptically replied.

They sat there quietly for a few minutes, sipping their coffee and remembering the past. Charlie, ever the impatient one, was the first to break the silence.

"Are you happy, Donna? Answer me honestly." He needed to know.

Donna sighed. "I don't know. John's a good man, and we've had some nice times together. He's a fantastic father, and we're certainly not lacking for anything. But --"

"But?" Charlie leaned forward in the chair.

"It just feels like something's missing lately. We've been fighting more and more. I'm worried the children are going to notice."

Charlie reached out and took Donnaâs hand. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"It's just little things really. Like when he was cut from the Saturday Game. I went to his office to try and talk with him. He was hurting so badly, Charlie. I know you never put much stock in the game, but it means so much to John. When the word came from Mary Jane that he'd been cut, I knew I had to see him. Do you know what he did?"

Charlie shook his head, letting her talk.

"He tried to act like everything was okay. Told me he was fine. FINE!" Her voice rose, tears coming to her eyes. "I knew he was upset, but he wouldn't show it, even to ME. He just closes himself off. Doesn't let me in..." She choked on a sob.

Her tears came more freely, running down her face. Charlie moved over next to her, wrapping his arms around her. Donna turned her head onto his shoulder, crying harder now. He slowly stroked her hair, murmuring soothing words, realizing that she had probably needed this for some time, letting her cry herself out.

John and the boys were having a blast. It seemed like half the town was out skating. Mary Jane Pitcher, the mayor's wife, came over to ask after Donna. "She's home with the baby today, Mary Jane." John replied. He smiled and nodded when she told him to tell Donna she'd said "Hi". He was hoping to have a talk with his wife that night, when the boys were asleep. He felt he owed her an apology.

His reverie was broken when his best friend, Tree Lane, came trotting up to him. "Johnny, have you heard the news?"

"What's that, Tree?"

"Bailey and I are going to New York. He's going to court tomorrow to get the Rangers to come here after all, and he asked if I'd come with him." Tree was beaming excitedly.

John laughed, "Hey, Tree, that's great! When are you guys leaving?" Bailey Pruitt, Mystery's only lawyer, was a good friend to John. If anyone could fight the hockey player's union and win, it would be him.

"We're leaving in a couple of hours, Johnny. I can't wait!" Tree slapped John on the shoulder and moved off. "I've got to go get ready!"

"Good luck!" John shouted at Tree's retreating form. He smiled to himself. Maybe there was a chance this game would happen after all.

Donna's crying slowly eased. She sniffled a few more times, then moved out of Charlie's embrace, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No, Donna. It's okay. You must have been holding that in for a long time."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Yes, I think you're right." She stood up, needing more distance between them.

She was confused. Charlie was so different from John. He was sensitive, a dreamer. John was solid, practical, reliable. She had never stopped loving Charlie, but her feelings for John were strong. They had built a good life together. She didn't want that to end.

Seeing Charlie again after all this time made her think of dreams that were half-forgotten. Dreams of visiting places sheâd only read about. What had ever happened to her goal of becoming an interior decorator? She had given up so much for John. By the time she might have been able to decorate the cabin, she had been pregnant with their first child. She'd been so busy after Michael was born.

"Donna." Charlie broke into her thoughts. "You don't have to stay here, you know. If you're not happy, if you'd like to build a life for yourself, you can always come to New York."

"Charlie, I need time to think about all of this. Can you give me that?"

He stood to go, realizing that giving her some 'space' would work out better for him in the long run than pushing things right now. "Of course, Donna. You know I'm here for you if you need me."

She walked Charlie to the door and shut it, not wanting to watch him leave. She knew John would be back soon. He would probably want to talk tonight when the boys were asleep.