Accidentally, On Purpose

A Romantic Comedy, Chapter 1

Welcome to Accidentally, On Purpose, a Romantic Comedy!

Accidents happen, or so Cara Delavine always thought. After all, she’d spent her entire life tripping over her own two feet and apologizing for it, but when her curse harms another, it changes everything for the soft-spoken young woman.

Beau Hamilton is a star athlete, the celebrated golden boy for the Vancouver Canuck’s, but his career gets blindsided by a cheesy twist of fate that leaves him not only unable to see his way forward, but unable to see at all!

Two lost souls in need are about to be brought together by three nosy sisters in this warm-hearted winter romance that proves everything happens for a reason, if only Cara can bravely stand up to the angry but handsome Beau, and only if Beau can forgive the person who robbed him of his sight.

Chapter One

The crowd roared with boos and hisses as the buzzer sounded. The anger emanating off the fans felt like a heatwave, and it was directed at the petite woman with short, dark, pixie-cut hair. Cara’s cheeks grew hot as she stood like a deer in headlights holding what was left of her nachos and coke. It wasn’t her fault. A rotund man with ruddy cheeks and a beer belly that rivaled an eight-months’ pregnant woman had suddenly jumped up, shouting at the opposing team right at the moment she stepped into the aisle to get back to her seat, arms loaded with a bounty of snacks. His outburst startled her causing chips, cheese, and fizzy soda to fly everywhere, some of which went right over the top of the protective plexiglass, splatting onto the ice inside the rink. She’d tripped—as usual—and fallen, landing hard on her knees.

A Canuck home team hero skated by, hockey stick held high, about to take what everyone in the stands believed to be the winning shot. He never made it. The blade of his skate hit a patch of nacho cheese and he slid, ankle twisting, before he plowed into the wall. His head struck with a loud thud, and down he went, knocked unconscious on the nacho-covered ice.

The horror of the moment was overwhelming, and the world moved in slow motion.

Cara dropped what was left of her snacks, and ran back up the stairs, not stopping until she reached the parking lot. There, she paused and texted her friends, Lexie and Ted, who were still inside, telling them she was sorry and would find her own way home. So much for her first, and after this latest fiasco, only hockey game. The curse had struck again, and this time, she might have actually killed someone. She made a mental note not to resist when the police came to arrest her for lethal klutziness.

Cara caught a taxi outside of the arena to the bus station, where she purchased a one-way ticket from Vancouver to Moose Ridge, Oregon. She was a fugitive now. A public menace. Ticket in hand, she sat down, waiting for the next bus. It was cold. The weatherman said they could expect snow by the next day. She hunkered down inside her fleece-lined wool jacket, hands in her pockets, wondering how in the world she’d been born so challenged in the motor skills department. No one was more accident-prone than she was, and this latest mishap proved it. She mulled over sending some kind of written apology to the National Hockey League. They’d probably track her down by the return address with pitchforks and hockey sticks in hand. Hmm…maybe she should rethink that idea. Death by angry mob did not sound pleasant.

She sighed, pushing her glasses up onto her nose.

“And this is why you’re still single, Cara. If you actually ever did find Mr. Right, you’d probably kill the poor man by tripping and falling on him, while carrying scissors!”

The bus pulled up, and she climbed the stairs, stubbing the toe of her black boot on the last step.

“Of course,” she muttered, catching the rail, and righting herself. Pain shot up her shin and she grimaced as she cast her eyes over the seats, looking for an empty one with no one near she could harm should the bus suddenly lurch during a sharp right turn sending her flying into some unsuspecting individual. Really, she needed clothing made of bubble wrap to keep herself, and the world at large, safe. Sighing heavily, she made her way to a seat in the rear, praying she could make it home without collecting anymore bruises.

***

Beau hit the button to raise his feet on the hospital bed. The pain in his ankle receded a bit, but he knew he could handle that. What he couldn’t come to terms with was not being able to see the damage. Heck, not being able to see anything!

“It’s temporary,” said Doctor Percy. “The swelling is putting pressure on the optic nerve. Once it goes down, you should be fine.”

Frustration ate at him. “And I’ll be able to play again?”

Doctor Percy patted his shoulder. “We’ll re-evaluate you once the swelling goes down. One step at a time. Let’s just let your body heal first.” He left.

Beau stewed in silence. He heard the doubt in the doctor’s voice, something he might not have noticed had he been able to see, or maybe he would’ve seen it in the man’s face. Either way, any kind of head injury was bad for an athlete, especially one who plays in a sport where knocks to the noggin were commonplace. He’d had his fair share, but never once had one blinded him. Concussions, sure, but losing sight? No way! He still wasn’t sure what happened, but his teammates said some idiot had chucked nachos onto the ice. The team manager looked for the culprit, but fans said the person had run out, and no one had located the criminal. All he knew was if he ever got his hands on the man, he’d pound the guy until he had no teeth left to chew steak!

“They say it was some geeky kid. Short, dark hair and glasses. Damn teenagers. They have no clue about the consequences of their actions.” Jerry Bartleby spoke, voice booming across the room as he walked in. He was angry.

Beau grunted. “So that’s the latest? Twenty-four hours later and all we know is that it was some kid? Geez! Is there no parent? Any closed-circuit footage? Anything? I mean, this is assault! It’s a crime. The kid needs to be found and arrested.”

Hearing the pain in his friend’s words, Jerry stood still, afraid anything he said or did in the moment would make matters worse. But he couldn’t hide anything from Beau.

“Well, as to that…”

“What?” Beau asked, knowing it would not be good news.

“Well, the CCTV cameras in the corridors and main concourse were down yesterday. Routine maintenance.” He stepped back, waiting for the explosion. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Are you kidding me? Who runs maintenance on security cameras during a game? Who? Dammit!” Beau punched the air, cursing his luck.

“Apparently, Rogers Arena,” Jerry muttered. He felt bad for his friend. It wasn’t right or fair. Beau Hamilton was a good guy, and a valued team member. He was always helping others without a thought for himself, even running inside a burning house last fall where he rescued a beagle. It made all the papers nationally. Hockey Hero Saves Family Dog. That was Beau. Now he was down with a sprained ankle and worse, blinded.

“We’ll find him, Beau. Me and the team, we’ll find this punk, and he’ll face the consequences. I promise!”

A nurse entered, interrupting them. “I have your pain medicine, Mr. Hamilton.”

Jerry eyed the pretty nurse, a smile spilling across his red-bearded face. His blue eyes twinkled.

“Thanks,” said Beau, raising his hand, palm up.

She dropped the pills into his hand, and lifted a glass to his lips, casting adoring eyes at him.

Jerry held back a laugh. This was pretty much par for the course. He’d seen women react to Beau like this thousands of times. The tall, dark-haired man attracted them like bees to honey with his soulful brown eyes, rugged jaw, and broad shoulders. He looked like he should be modeling for GQ, but instead, he slapped pucks on ice, and with great precision.

She cupped his chin. “All down?” she asked.

Beau pulled away, annoyed, and unaware he had such a pretty lady attending to him. “Yes. Thank you.”

She checked his IV and promised to return later to see how he was faring. Jerry watched her go. When she cleared the doorway, he let out a whistle.

“Wow, man. She’s a looker!”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Beau stated dryly.

Jerry looked at him. “I guess not. But no worries. You’ll be seeing all the beautiful gals again soon. You just need to rest.” The bearded man shuffled his feet. “Hey, is there anything you need before I go?” Jerry was more than ready to go. Seeing his best friend and teammate in such a bad way was tearing him apart.

“Just find that kid, Bartleby.”

“You got it, buddy.”

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