A Snowglobe Christmas: Yuletide Homecoming / A Family's Christmas Wish
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The party was great. The food was delicious. The Dirty Santa game hilarious. Watching grown men finagle and fuss over a pair of snow goggles proved to be the hit of the night. Amy was having fun. Truly. She’d reconnected with her high school friends, including Mack Jennings, who showed more than a passing interest in her homecoming.
“I’m going for more punch,” Mack, standing at her elbow, said. “Want some?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind.”
With a wink, he took her cup and disappeared through the crush. She took an olive from a tray and swiveled around on the bar stool. The first person she spotted was Rafe. She started to turn away but curiosity got the better of her. He hadn’t seemed the least bothered by her avoidance of him. That was good, she supposed. They were both going on with their lives, dealing with the past the way mature adults should.
Katie’s comment, her insinuation that Rafe and Amy were together, had bothered her. So much so that she’d slipped away from Rafe at the first opportunity. No matter what well-meaning friends thought, painful experience had taught her to protect her heart. Sure, Rafe was the hometown hero, the nice guy who delivered food baskets and taught disabled kids to ski, but that didn’t make him trustworthy.
She watched him now, sitting across the big living room in an armchair sharing laughs with his brother and Gabby Ralick. The Westfield brothers, in her opinion, were the best-looking men in the room, and Gabby, a divorcée with two kids, seemed to be thrilled with the attention.
Mack returned with her refilled cup of punch and slid onto the stool next to her. “It’s not polite to stare.”
Amy lowered her gaze to the paper cup and nonchalantly sipped the sweet liquid. “I wasn’t staring.”
“He was.”
“No, he wasn’t! Why would he be?”
“Maybe he still has a thing for you.”
“I certainly hope not,” she said hotly, but a flutter of...something...stirred beneath her rib cage.
Mack lifted his cup in a toast. “I’ll drink to that.”
They bumped cups.
“The clinic is having a party next Wednesday afternoon. Want to come over and hang out with us medical types?”
The invitation caught Amy off guard. Mack was a radiology tech at the local medical clinic, and she knew practically everyone else who worked there, too. At least, she used to know them. While she was considering her reply, the growl of Katie and Todd’s karaoke machine interrupted.
“Karaoke Christmas, everyone!” Todd shouted into the microphone, which caused a feedback squeal that killed any notion of conversation.
Amy pressed her hands to both ears, laughing.
Todd kicked off the karaoke by barking a hilarious rendition of “Jingle Bells,” and others followed, singing the silliest holiday tunes they could find. Mack brought the house down when he sang “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas” in a girly soprano, and not to be outdone, Jake warbled and acted out “Randolph, the Bowlegged Cowboy.”
When he finished and the stomps and claps subsided, Jake shot an ornery grin toward Amy and then toward his brother. Amy got a funny feeling in her stomach and slid down on the bar stool.
“Who wants to hear Rafe and Amy sing?” Jake shouted. “Just like old times. A duet.”
Amy’s gaze flew toward Rafe, who had the same deer-in-the-headlights expression she suspected was on her own face. But unlike Amy, Rafe unwound his tall form from the armchair, shedding Gabby as he came toward the front of the room and the karaoke machine.
“How about it, Amy?” Jake called, urging her on, his grin so annoying she wanted to pinch him. “Come on, now, don’t be shy. Amy. Amy.”
The crowd picked up the chant. “Amy. Amy.”
As much as she didn’t want to sing “their” duet, the situation was getting embarrassing.
She shot a frantic look at Mack, who hitched his chin toward the front. “Might as well get it over with.”
Gulping down panic, Amy headed to the front amidst good-natured catcalls and whistles. If any of these so-called friends recalled the history between Rafe and Amy, they’d been struck with a sudden case of group amnesia.
Or maybe that’s why they were so insistent.
Well, she’d show them. She could sing with anyone. But she would not sing their song.
She’d no more than thought the thought than Todd slipped a CD into the karaoke machine and the music started. She looked at Rafe in panic.
“No,” she whispered.
“Don’t make a big deal of it.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s just a song.”
Just a song? Did he know how much that hurt?
And when had he taken hold of her hand?
He smiled into her eyes.
“I don’t even like you,” she whispered.
His lips curved upward. “I know.”
Then the intro ended and Rafe began to sing the first verse of “All I Want for Christmas is You.”
Amy had sung for events since she was a tot. Singing didn’t scare her. But she didn’t want anyone in this room to think she still pined for Rafe Westfield.
She whirled around and grabbed Jake by the collar, crooning her first two lines into his surprised face.
Then she spun toward Todd and grabbed him, proclaiming that he could make her wish come true.
“Hey!” Katie hollered, pretending insult. “He’s taken. Except for when he snores.”
The room erupted in laughter and Amy relaxed. They were singing silly songs and she’d made this one fit the theme.
Todd took her hand and gave her a spin, turning her back toward Rafe. She stumbled in the spin and he caught her, reeled her in and stared down into her face as he sang of wanting to hold her tight.
Putting on an act for the crowd, he hugged her close in mock affection, but Amy felt the rattle of his heart through his shirt. He was as embarrassed by the attention as she was and probably wished he hadn’t come to the party. He probably wished she’d stayed in Spokane.
An urge to snuggle into his broad chest and listen to his strong baritone troubled her. He smelled good, like the woods in spring, and she felt so secure in his arms.
She stiffened, remembering. She was not secure with Rafe, war hero or not. She could not trust him, never could, though she’d been foolish enough to believe for a while.
She backed away, fanning herself, playing the game, giving their friends a good laugh as she and Rafe finished the performance with a dramatic flourish.
Amy hoped no one noticed that her smile was a little too tight.
Rafe leaned into her ear and whispered, “Sorry to put you on the spot. You okay?”
She nodded, face frozen in a fake smile. Of course she was okay, even if she felt like crying.
Chapter Five
Amy thought about the Christmas party for days afterward, and each time she and Rafe ran into each other—an inevitability in Snowglobe—she was reminded again of that one tiny moment. The moment he’d pulled her close, even in jest, she’d flashed back to those perfect days of feeling secure in his love.
She rang up a customer’s purchase, a set of keepsake ornaments.
“No time for a cup of hot cider?” she asked the woman, a teacher at the elementary school.
“Not today, Amy. We have a family gathering tonight to decorate the tree. I still need to put on a ham and bake a pie.”
“Sounds fun.” Smiling, she handed the woman her bag. “Enjoy. And Merry Christmas!”
The jingle bells on the door wreath jangled merrily as the customer departed. Her mom, who looked especially pretty in a bright blue top with a flowy jacket, came from the back of the shop where she’d been unpacking today’s shipment of gift items.
“Are you working at the church tonight?”
“That’s the plan,” Amy said, nonchalantly. “How about you?”
Dana shook her head, dark hair swinging like something out of a shampoo commercial. “Not tonight. I have other plans.”
Before Amy could ask what those plans might be, her mom rushed on. “Why don’t you go ahead and leave? You’ll need to eat first anyway. I’ll close up and see you at home later tonight. Okay?”
Amy blinked, noticing the sudden bloom of color on her mother’s cheeks. Was her mom trying to get rid of her?
“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying. Rafe has plenty of help scheduled tonight. I saw the list myself.”
Mom’s hands stilled on a display of glossy gold wrapping paper. “How is that working out? You and Rafe?”
“If you mean, are we civil, the answer is yes.” She got her purse from beneath the counter.
“I heard you had fun together at Katie’s party.”
“Really? You heard that?”
“Did you?”
Had she? “Jake put us in an embarrassing spot. He forced us to sing a duet.”
“The two of you always sounded good together. Your sweet soprano and his strong baritone.”
She didn’t appreciate reminders of Rafe’s baritone crooning a love song in her ear. “We survived.”
“Mmm,” Mom said. “I heard there were sparks. That Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off you all night.”
Amy’s heart jumped. Was that even the slightest bit true? “Come on, Mother. You can’t want us to get back together.”
“I would never interfere in your life.” Her mom grinned. “Not much anyway. But Rafe is a good man who lives his faith. I want that for my child, a man who loves God with everything he has. Faith matters, baby.”
Amy heard what her mother would never say. Amy’s dad had attended church on special occasions, but he’d never really served God. He’d never really loved his wife and daughter, either. If he had, he wouldn’t have walked out on them.
“I’ll find a Christian guy. Don’t worry, Mom.”
Dana gave her a quick hug. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I am.” Most of the time. She’d love to settle down and have a family, but God would send her someone. She hoped.
After slipping into her coat, she headed to her car, her mother’s words ringing in her head. Rafe was a good man. He was. He always had been, but his faith had been wobbly back then. Since coming home she’d seen how he’d thrown himself into the town, into the church, into his business, into the needs of others. He’d matured.
Okay, so she appreciated the man he appeared to have become, but she knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving.
* * *
The church family hall was crowded on this particular night, but Rafe knew the minute Amy arrived. The truth troubled him. Any time Amy was anywhere in the vicinity, he felt her presence. He’d thought he was over her, but the more he saw her, the more he wondered. She was a reminder of his failures as a man, but she also reminded him of what it had been like to be crazy in love. He’d never come close to that feeling with any other woman.
He’d prayed about it lately. Almost as much as he prayed about the bad dreams. Apparently, God wanted him to notice her. Maybe the Lord was pushing him to bring up the past, set it to rights. He certainly thought about it often enough, just as he thought about her.
She came toward him, shedding her coat, and he let himself enjoy the sight. Vibrant, glowing with health and energy, Amy made him appreciate the differences in male and female.
“What’s my assignment, Chief?” she asked.
“Early deliveries start tomorrow. Since you’re our premiere basket wrapper, why don’t you show some of the other ladies how to fancy up the finished boxes with those bow thingies your mom donated.”
“Works for me. Should we wrap the toys, too, or leave those for the parents to wrap?”
“Leave them. We’ll include gift wrap in the boxes. Your mother donated that, too.”
“Great lady, my mom.” Amy moved away to do his bidding and gathered a group of women around a table. In minutes, colored ribbon became fancy bows and boxes became pretty gift packages. The lady had a knack for making things beautiful.
Busy sorting and directing and keeping an eye on all phases of the operation, Rafe could work anywhere he chose. And he chose to work near Amy. He directed conversation her way and was gratified when she didn’t freeze him out. The talk turned from the Christmas tree lighting and the annual church drama to the amount of snow on the ski slopes.
“Have you been skiing yet?” he asked, pretending the question was casual conversation for all, though he directed it at Amy. There were at least twenty other people in the room, most of them asking him questions from time to time, and yet he kept returning to Amy.
Something was going on here, whether he liked it or not.
“I’ve been too busy with the shop,” Amy said as she wound ribbon around her outstretched fingers to deftly, quickly create a glittering bow. “Mom wants to go part-time after the holidays so I’m in a time crunch to learn everything.”
She zipped the edge of her scissors along the dangling length of red and silver ribbon. The strips curled into long ringlets around the central bow.
“You’ve worked in that shop all your life.”
“But Mom did all the ordering, dealt with vendors and billing. I know how. I just have to learn the nuances.”
“Ah, those pesky nuances,” he said wryly and handed her a roll of cellophane tape.
She laughed and the sound pleased him, warming him like a mug of hot chocolate after a fast ride on the Arctic Cat.
“How’s the sports rental business? Jake says you’re making a killing.”
She ripped off a strip of tape and handed him the dispenser. He laid it aside and went back to checking his list. When had she talked to Jake? And why? Was his brother up to something?
“The ski race brings in a lot of tourists,” he said. “Tourists want to have fun. The Westfield brothers are the kings of fun.”
Amy’s eyes puckered in amusement. “Who knew the two of us could become regular entrepreneurs?”
“We’ve always had a lot in common.”
Her smile faded. “Yeah, well...” She fluffed an already fluffy bow and then scooted a box marked with a name and address to one side. “This family is really far from town. Who’s doing the deliveries on the distant homes?”
He wasn’t sure what he’d said to upset her, but he wanted her smile back. “Don’t know yet. No one’s signed up for the outer limits yet.”
“I will.”
“You’ll have to take a snowmobile to most of these places.” He tapped a finger on the cardboard box. “Crick Pass is impassable in any other vehicle this time of year.”
She cocked her head to one side, eyes twinkling. “Then why do they call it a pass?”
Ah, there she was, the real Amy, the girl who loved to have fun. Suddenly, he felt better.
“Come on. The list of addresses is in the office. Let’s go map out the houses we can only reach by snowmobile.”
“You gonna let me take one of your fancy new rides? Or do I have to drive Mom’s old sled?”
“Is that thing still running?”
“Most of the time.”
“I think you better try out Jake’s new Arctic Cat. It’s a sweet machine.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She moved away from the table toward the office in the back of the Family Center. “You have GPS?”
“On everything we rent now.”
“Good. Map out the route, and I’ll dress up in my elf suit and start delivering tomorrow afternoon.”
Rafe stopped in his tracks. “You have an elf suit?”
Her eyebrows wiggled playfully. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Then she did something the old Amy would have done. She bumped him in the side with her shoulder and giggled.
* * *
The next afternoon the air was so still Amy could hear the ground snow crackle like breakfast cereal. She blew out her breath, a frosty cloud, though she was so heavily attired she’d probably be sweating shortly.
She pushed open the door to Westfield Sports Rentals and stepped inside the warm warehouselike structure. Loud rock music jarred the space. It was her first visit to Rafe’s business and she took in the orderly rows of equipment, the well-swept concrete floor, the waiting area. A couple of round tables with chairs encouraged customers to relax, and on a table against one wall, a pot sent up the fragrance of good-quality coffee.
Jake, busy outfitting a family with snowboards, lifted a hand to wave. She wiggled her fingers at him.
“Rafe’s out back, getting the sleds ready.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She followed the direction of his point, through a metal door that led outside.
“There you are,” he said, looking up with that welcoming smile and those new lines around his eyes she found particularly attractive. “Ready?”
Looking at the line of snowmobiles, ready and waiting for a rider, Amy asked, “Which one do I take?”
“You choose. I’ll ride one of these with the passenger sleigh on back to haul the food baskets.” He patted the fender of a big blue machine connected to an oval-shaped enclosure on skids.
She noticed then that he was geared up for the weather. “You’re going?”
His too-serious eyes squinted. “Wasn’t that the plan?”
Amy blinked. Had it been? “I thought I was going alone.”
“Not going to happen. Too dangerous.”
Her hackles went up. “I’ve been riding these mountains all my life. I’m perfectly capable.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go alone.”
Her grip tightened on the handlebar of the machine. “I can make that decision for myself.”
He looked as though he wanted to argue but refrained. The tension between them crackled. Hands on his hips, Rafe looked off toward the snow-covered mountains for several long seconds. When his focus came back to her, his annoyance was gone.
Gently, with just a touch of humor, he chided, “What are you trying to do, Ames? Hog up all the blessings for yourself?”
Ames. No one had called her Ames in a long, long time. She opened her mouth to argue but the words didn’t come. He’d worked harder on this project than she had, and delivering was the greatest blessing and the most fun.
An array of emotions shifted through her. An afternoon alone in the wilderness with Rafe?
She mounted the snowmobile and started the engine. “Just try to keep up.”
A slow grin slid over his handsome features. “You’re on, Ames. You’re on.”
Chapter Six
“He’s thinking of selling out next spring,” Rafe said as he and Amy left the last of the remote homes, a forlorn-looking ranch house with smoke spiraling from the chimney. “Economic times are hard enough and now winter’s taken a toll on his animals.”
“It must be incredibly hard for him to ranch and care for three kids since his wife died.”
While Rafe had talked with the rancher and warmed himself by the woodstove Amy had played with the motherless baby. Her heart ached for the man and his children.
“He seemed pretty down—embarrassed, too.” Vapor clouds puffed from his lips like smoke rings. “A real man doesn’t like taking charity, but he wanted his kids to have Christmas.”
“I’m so sad for all of them. I wish I knew some other way to help. The ranch is so far out here, he can’t have many visitors.”
“The life of a Montana rancher.” Rafe pulled his helmet into place and mounted the snowmobile.
“I suppose.” Still, she wanted to do more. The smiles and gratitude of the other families had blessed her, but the proud rancher and his kids tugged at her heart. “It was nice of you to offer to come up and drive them to the church drama.”
He shrugged a thickly clad shoulder, the silky material whispering. “I have the equipment. Not a big deal.”
“It was to them.” She spun the snowmobile around and started back along the tracks they’d made coming in, thinking. About her blessings. About the rancher’s plight. About Rafe.
They rode for a mile or two, road wind flapping around them, snow spitting up from the ground. After a bit, Rafe gunned his engine and passed her, lifting one gloved hand to point behind him. She got his message. He could beat her even pulling a passenger sled. Challenged, Amy caught up and returned the favor, mood elevated a little to play in the great Montana outdoors with Rafe.
Miles and miles of pristine snow frosted the meadows and forests. In places, drifts many feet high stacked against the cliffs and mountains. They’d carved a route on their way up but even now, snow flew around them like a blizzard until her vision was obscured. It was a wonderland of beauty and treachery.
As they neared the outskirts of Snowglobe, the land flattened into an area sparsely populated. In the powder bowl ahead, the amber lights of town and home glowed like angel halos. Rafe pulled alongside her and motioned for her to stop.
Curious, Amy followed his lead and drove across a bumpy thicket of snow, through a scattering of tall pines toward...nothing. An empty snowy meadow. Rafe stopped and killed his engine, straddling the snowmobile.
Amy pulled up next to him and flipped up her visor. “Why are we stopping?”
Rafe ripped off his helmet and speared her with an incomprehensible look, gaze as gray and intense as the sky above. “Wanted to show you something.”
Amy parked her ride and dismounted, the rumble of the machine still humming through her muscles though she’d shut down the engine.
Rafe came up beside her. “Look around at this place. What do you think?”
She looked at him first, saw an eager hope and knew he was showing her something important. Taking her time, she turned slowly, gazing over the ripples and hills of snow, taking in the mountain backdrop, the forest, the panorama of sky above and valley below.
“In spring a creek runs along the back,” he said, pointing, “through that line of trees and down toward the valley. The land is fairly flat here, plenty of space.”
And then she knew. A lump formed in her throat. “You bought it.”
“Next spring, if all goes well, I’ll start building.”
They’d once talked about building their own little paradise in the mountains. Now Rafe was going ahead with their dreams. A moment of sadness at all they’d lost came and went, and then she was glad for him.
“You deserve to have a wonderful place.”
“Mom and Dad have been great since I got home, but it’s time I moved out.”
“This will be perfect.”
As if he’d been awaiting her approval, Rafe eagerly launched into the plans.
“What do you think about putting the house right here?”
“Facing the valley or the mountains?”
He stopped, frowning. “Good question.”
“I know,” she said. “Do both. Build a house with incredible views open to both sides. Lots of tall windows, a double deck.”
“Skylights.” His smile widened. He raised both arms, fists clenched in a victory punch, reminding her of a little boy at Christmas. “Ames, you’re a genius. Will you help me with the plans? I need your artistic eye.”
The compliment sizzled along her nerve endings and she caught his excitement. “How many square feet?”
“Flexible.”
“Cathedral ceilings or two-story?”
“Yes.”
She laughed and the sound puffed out in a noisy, foggy cloud that startled the birds from a nearby pine. She laughed again. “Tell me what you have in mind. This is exciting.”
Rafe’s quick description included an enormous beamed living room with a full wall fireplace and a game room. “It’s the kitchen and all that stuff I have trouble with. I mean, how much room does a man need for a microwave?”
Amy thumped a gloved hand against his thickly coated arm. “Goofy. An incredible kitchen is everything. Even if you don’t cook a lot, you’ll want a beautiful space, just in case.” Just in case you get married. Just in case you fall in love. The idea of Rafe and another woman pinched, but she let it go, clasping the pleasure of the moment. “Lots of gleaming wood, granite, a center island that opens up the whole living/dining area.”
Rafe grinned and looped an elbow around her neck, snugging her close to his side. “See why I need you? You’re brilliant.”
“Well, of course I am. I am woman.”
She’d meant the statement as a joke, but Rafe’s expression went serious as he gazed down into her face. “Yes, you are. And quite a woman, at that.”