Everett Kane had never been in a hurry when it came to love.

At twenty-four, he was in his sixth pro season with the Minnesota Wild: a reliable two-way center, alternate captain, known for his quiet leadership and a wrist shot that goalies hated. Off the ice, he was still the same Everett—home every summer to coach youth camps, the first to help with dishes at family dinners, the uncle who let Clara beat him at video games and built epic blanket forts for Rowie and ...