A Snowglobe Christmas: Yuletide Homecoming / A Family's Christmas Wish

Her grin softened to a smile, a mere curve of lips, as she gazed back at him. They were different people now. Grownups. She could spend this time with him, enjoy his company, throw herself into planning his dream home. After all, she had forgiven him even if she hadn’t forgotten.

The quiet of the day, broken only by the crackle of frozen earth and the occasional cry of a bird surrounded them in a cocoon of winter wonderland. Rafe’s warmth seeped through his jacket into hers, his arm feeling right and good around her. Without thinking too much, a nasty habit of hers, she circled his lean waist with one arm and leaned against his solid bulk.

He hugged her closer until his chin rested on her hair. “Ames?” he said.

Her pulse thudded in her throat. “What?”

A second passed and then two while she wondered what he was about to say, and wondered even more if she wanted to hear it. Something was stirring inside her again for Rafe Westfield. Maybe Mom was right.

She licked suddenly dry lips and lifted her chin. “You were saying?”

Rafe stared out across the clearing for another second before saying, “Nothing important.”

Slight disappointment tugged at her. “Oh.”

She started to pull away but Rafe pulled her back. “On second thought, I was about to say something.”

Her heart bumped. “Which was?”

“The Chamber is offering sleigh rides after the tree lighting. Want to come along? Maybe lead the kids in some Christmas carols?”

She studied his face, certain he’d had something else in mind. But even this sounded too close, too personal, too scary. “Are you driving the sleigh for the foster kids?”

“Yep. Just like always.”

“Santa Rafe.” Don’t do it, her brain yelled. Don’t do it.

He grinned. “I like that. Will you come?”

Ignoring the inner sentries she’d erected against this particular man, she said, “I’d love it.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Afterward, if it’s not too late, I’ll ply you with pizza and show you my fledgling house designs. How does that sound?”

A lot better than it should.

* * *

On the ride home, they’d raced, thrown snow on each other and laughed like loons. All the while the feel of Rafe’s casual kiss on the head warmed a place long empty inside of Amy. Though she was unsure of what it meant, a new relationship was slowly developing. She didn’t know how she felt about it, but Rafe was clearly an unresolved issue or she wouldn’t think about him so much.

Perhaps this was the answer to her prayers, a chance to resolve the past and move forward, one way or the other. It was the other that made her nervous.

After they’d parked the snowmobiles and warmed up, Rafe walked her to her car. He opened the door, waited until she was inside and closed it, motioning for her to roll down the window. He leaned in as she cranked the engine. “Thanks for sharing the blessings. I enjoyed it.”

“Me, too.”

He did the quiet thing again, staring at her as if something heavy plagued his mind. Finally, he cupped her cheek with a gloved hand and smiled, then slapped the window opening with a single pop and backed away. “Be safe.”

Night closed in as Amy headed for home through the cheery lighted town, her insides glowing like the lights of Snowglobe. The snowplow had scraped the narrow streets during her absence, a constant in the tiny town. Thoughts of Rafe and the afternoon, of the rancher and his motherless kids, and of the dream home Rafe would build filled her head. He was eager, it seemed, to move on with life after the military, a revelation that had caused her opinion to shift a little. She’d never asked him why he’d given up the career he’d claimed to want more than marriage to her. He’d come home to Snowglobe, just as she had. And he was putting down roots. Building a home. Making a life. She knew he wasn’t seeing anyone special, but a man didn’t build a house to live in it alone. Did he?

If Rafe found someone else, would she mind?

The answer was yes. Even with their painful parting years ago, she still had feelings for Rafe Westfield.

A thought both elated and scared her. Could she let go and see where this tangle of feelings might take her? Did she dare trust him again?

As she pulled into her mother’s drive, she noticed an unfamiliar truck parked outside. Her mom had company. Probably one of the ladies from the Bible study or the hospital auxiliary. Dana was on so many committees, the visitor could be anyone in town.

Amy bounded up the steps eager for the warmth inside the cozy house. She pushed open the door and stepped in. Her first impressions were of the recently hung garlands festooning the living room and the spicy scent of Mexican casserole. She followed the scent toward the kitchen, expecting to find her mother.

She rounded the door frame and blinked in confusion. A man carried a casserole dish toward the glass-topped table while her mother filled two coffee cups.

“Amy! I didn’t hear you come in.” Dana’s olive skin flushed beneath dark eyes that sparkled with an energy Amy had never observed before.

What was going on here?

“Honey, I want you to meet Jeffrey Fischer.” Looking flustered, her mom set the cups on the table and looped elbows with the man. He was blond, like Dad, with piercing blue eyes. Amy’s stomach twisted at the thought of her long-absent, uncaring father. “He bought the old Cleveland house and moved up from Helena last spring.”

“Hi.” Amy nodded toward the newcomer. “Nice to meet you.” Sort of. What are you doing here with my mother?

Jeffrey reached out and shook her hand. Then he slid an arm around her mom and smiled into Dana’s face with an expression of affection. “Your mother’s told me so much about you.”

Wish I could say the same about you. But Amy found her manners in time to say with humor, “Don’t believe a word of it. I’m not that bad.”

“I’m sorry the two of you haven’t met before. I was waiting for the right time.” Again, Mom seemed flustered as though worried about Amy’s approval. “I thought we might all have Christmas dinner, spend the day together. Jeffrey has a daughter in California who may come for a visit. Her name is Lisa. You’ll like her. Very sweet young woman.”

Dana Caldwell was not one to prattle on nervously. The fact that she did raised Amy’s suspicion that Jeffrey was more than a casual acquaintance.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, sweetie,” Jeffrey said to Dana with a tender look. “But what I think you’re trying to say is that we’ve been spending a lot of time together and we hope to spend more.” To Amy he said, “Your mother is an amazing woman. The day I stumbled into her shop to order flowers for Lisa’s birthday was one of the best days of my life.”

“And the rest, as they say, is history,” Dana said with an airy flutter of fingers.

Stunned realization slid down Amy’s back. Whoa. Mom had a boyfriend? When had this happened?

Amy looked from Jeffrey’s face to her mother’s and back again. This man was in love with her mother. And maybe her mom felt the same.

The sudden paradigm shift was too much for Amy to take in. Silly as it was, she felt alone and left out, an unwanted intruder. “Don’t let me interrupt your dinner. You two go ahead.”

“Why don’t you join us, honey? There’s plenty. Jeffrey brought his special Mexican chicken dish.”

“Makes enough to feed an army,” Jeffrey said. “Afterward, we’ll finish decorating the tree and watch It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Mom’s favorite movie. Amy’s, too. Watching it together was their tradition.

Amy managed a weak smile. “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll head off to my room and a hot bath. Warm up after the afternoon on a snowmobile.”

If she expected her mother to argue, she was wrong. Confused and a little hurt, Amy left the kitchen. Her mother had a boyfriend. She wasn’t surprised that a nice man would find Dana attractive. Mom was gorgeous and smart and successful. But since Amy’s father walked out, Dana had never dated anyone. Not that Amy knew about. Mom’s desire to retire and “kick up her heels” suddenly made a lot more sense.

Just as suddenly Amy felt as intrusive as the proverbial fifth wheel. She should be glad for her mother. She knew that. Rationally she was. Dana deserved something besides work and charitable deeds, but try as she might, Amy felt adrift and lonely, like a windsock dangling from a pole. Exactly the way she’d felt when Dad left. And again when Rafe had joined the marines.

Alone in her bedroom, Amy hung up her coat and sat on the side of the bed. Her heart thudded against her chest.

“Lord, I’m confused,” she murmured. “I want to get over myself. I want to be happy for Mom. I want to get over Rafe.”

There it was. The deep wound that wouldn’t heal. She’d never gotten over the heartbreak of losing Rafe no matter where she went or what she did. Tonight, seeing her mom with a man, happy and fluttery and falling in love, brought the issue to a head.

She wanted what her mother had found, but she was too scared of getting hurt again to do anything about it.

Chapter Seven

The song “Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!” drifted from the shop’s piped-in music as Amy locked up for the night.

“Appropriate,” she muttered with a glance out at the heavy snow falling on the nearly abandoned streets. The wind had picked up, along with the snow, and the meteorologist said they were in for a storm. Across the street, Hank Redford battled the wind, head down, as he hurried from his pharmacy to his car. They might be in for another blizzard.

Going to the back, she emptied and washed the urn, sealed the leftover pumpkin cookies, and tidied up. The last customer had come and gone, along with her mother who’d gone off to Kalispell hours ago with Jeffrey. A little worry niggled and Amy prayed they’d have a safe return.

As she moved toward the front, turning off little trees and fragrance burners as she went, she heard a sound above the wind. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. She cocked her head, eyes squinted to listen. Not tree limbs. There were no trees near enough.

Curious, Amy rounded the sales counter to find a sad-faced dog staring at her through the front door glass. “You poor thing. You’re shivering.”

Though Mom would not take kindly to a large dog inside the shop of delicate merchandise, Amy’s tender heart got the better of her. She opened the door. Wind and snow whipped inside so fast it took Amy’s breath. She shivered, too.

The dog waited for no invitation. She rushed inside and shook herself.

Snow sprayed Amy’s clothes and sprinkled the tile floor with wet drops. “You’re going to get us both in a lot of trouble. Sit.”

To her surprise, the dog plopped down on her bottom. She was a large mixed breed, brindle brown with floppy ears and expressive liquid eyes that stared desperately at Amy. In a second, she was up again, pacing in circles, her sides heaving. Amy saw the problem. The dog was pregnant. Very pregnant.

Amy rushed to the back for a towel. When she returned the dog was behind the counter, scratching scattered pieces of wrapping paper into one spot.

“Good thing I haven’t swept yet. You’re making a bed, aren’t you, girl? And not a very comfy one.” Amy added the towel atop the wadded papers and then went back for a few more, along with a roll of paper towels, a plastic cup of water and the pumpkin cookies. The poor dog looked hungry and cold and about to deliver puppies.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.