A Snowglobe Christmas Page 8

  Once, when they’d stopped to catch their breath and warm up, he’d stolen a quick kiss. Cold lips collided, and they’d both laughed.

  “You need some hot cocoa,” he’d said.

  “Me? You have lips from the frozen tundra.”

  “I keep them in the freezer at home. Take them out for special occasions.” His eyebrows pumped. “Like now.”

  His joke brought chuckles from the woman standing next to them. “It’s good to see the two of you back together.”

  With a cocky grin, Rafe hooked an arm around Amy’s neck. “Thanks. I couldn’t agree more.”

  Amy’s gaze flew to his. When the woman turned to speak with Katie and Todd, she murmured. “We are, aren’t we?”

  “You good with that? With us?”

  Her soft smile seeped into his cold body. “Yes. Yes, I think I am.”

  Rafe lifted an inner prayer of thanks to heaven. If he’d known telling her about the nightmares would bring her back to him, he’d have told her days ago. She hadn’t considered him weak at all. He couldn’t quite take that in, but he was relieved she hadn’t turned away in disgust.

  After a frigid hour of caroling, Rafe invited everyone to his shop where there was room to visit and warm up. On the way, he and Amy stopped at the store for cookies, happy and giddy, toes numb and noses red.

  “Grab your favorites. Don’t forget the Oreos.” He plunked two packages into her arms.

  “One for me, one for you. Better get another package for the others to eat.”

  He chuckled and added a third pack, along with several other brands. “Ready?”

  At the checkout counter, they paid, chatting with Stu, the rotund, apron-clad cashier, and a teenage sacker. The talk of the town, of course, was the power outage.

  “The mayor stopped by earlier,” Stu said. “He thinks we may have to shut down the lights in the park, the town tree and any other nonessentials.”

  “No way!” Amy said. “We can’t do that.”

  “It’s what he said.” Stu counted out Rafe’s change. “According to the power company, the town system needs an upgrade, which can’t be done until spring. If we don’t cut back, we could be in for more outages.”

  Rafe frowned. “Not good for business. Part of the draw for tourists is that Snowglobe looks like something out of a storybook, a picture-perfect Christmas village.”

  “What about the townspeople? We love our Christmas celebrations, too. They’re what sets Snowglobe apart from other small mountain towns trying to stay alive through tourist trade.”

  “Well, maybe it won’t happen.” Stu handed Rafe three filled plastic bags.

  Of course, it did.

  * * *

  “You’re awfully cheery this morning,” her mother said.

  “Christmas is coming and life is good,” Amy said with an airy laugh. She was on her knees next to the low display window, a fat, soft puppy in her arms. The mama dog was outside on her routine run, a perfect time for Amy to clean and restore the dogs’ bed.

  “I thought you’d be glum about the lights-out proclamation.”

  “I am. Everyone is. But Jesus didn’t have electric light displays and Christmas still came.”

  “That’s true, but I have a feeling there is more to your burst of smiley energy. What’s going on with you and Rafe?”

  Amy placed the puppy in the clean basket and went to help her mother. “I still love him, Mom.”

  Dana fisted both hands in contained excitement and then threw her arms around Amy. “I knew it. I always knew it.”

  “I haven’t told him yet, but I think he knows.”

  “You’ve always loved him whether you knew it or not, and I was sure if you’d give him a chance he’d win your trust again.”

  A little niggle of fear pushed in, but Amy batted it down. She could trust him. He’d done his military duty. He wouldn’t leave again. He was home to stay. “He’s building a dream house on the outskirts of town, a gorgeous area, and wants my input on everything. I think the house is for us.”

  “Oh, honey.” Dana grabbed her hands and danced her around in a circle, laughing.

  Customers scattered throughout the store smiled in their direction.

  “My daughter’s in love,” Dana announced to the whole world. Well, maybe not the world, but in Snowglobe, two or three people was all it took to get the word around.

  “Mom. Stop it. We have customers.” Face warm but smile wide, she went to wait on the women. Fortunately, none of them looked familiar. “My mom is matchmaking. Pay no mind. May I help you with something?”

  “We’d like to look at the snowglobes. My husband wants to wrap up our visit today and go somewhere else, and I just can’t leave without one of those.”

  Amy frowned. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay in Snowglobe.”

  “Oh, we have. We love it here, but without the Christmas lights and festivities...” She shrugged. “Vance wants to go somewhere else.”

  They were already losing customers and tourists. A shutdown was very bad for business and the town.

  When the women left, she said, “Mom, surely there is something that can be done.”

  “I wish.” Dana went back to the flowers she’d been arranging. “But what?”

  * * *

  On his way to Kalispell late that afternoon, Rafe ruminated on the mayor’s announcement in the morning paper. All nonessential events and electrical usage, specifically the city tree and festival of lights in the park, would not be turned on again this year.

  “The Grinch stole Christmas,” Amy had complained when they’d shared lunch at the burger joint. The place had been abuzz with the unfortunate news.

  Like everyone else, neither he nor Amy was happy about the turn of events. But no one wanted to be without power and heat, either. The city council’s hands were tied.

  Businesses would take a financial hit, but at least for today, he and Jake had been renting snowmobiles and skis as if no one had heard about the shut down.

  Now, he was in Kalispell to pick up some new equipment his brother had ordered. He also had a personal errand to run.

  A pleased grin pulled at his cheeks as he parked in front of Riddle’s Jewelry Store and went inside the modern building. He knew what he wanted. He’d spent hours last night researching online.

  His thoughts turned to Amy and he replayed the night of the caroling. Since the power outage, she’d changed, softened and their relationship had turned a corner.

  When he’d taken her home, he’d kissed her good-night at the door. Then she’d followed him to his truck and kissed him in return.

  He’d almost said the words, almost told her of the love he’d carried all over the world, of the love that simply would not die.

  He was confident she loved him, too. They were mature adults now ready for a lifetime together. Though they’d not discussed the future, he had faith Amy would agree.

  The clerk removed the dainty ring from the display case. “Beautiful choice. A Christmas gift?”

  Rafe’s pulse increased, a happy adrenaline charge at what he was about to do. “She bought me a little something. I want to return the favor.”

  The clerk, in slick business suit and tie, smiled knowingly. “This is a lot more than a ‘little something.’”

  “She’s worth it.” This, and a lot more. Christmas in Snowglobe was turning out to be the best ever, the electrical situation the only negative. But late last night while he’d laid awake listening to Amy’s snowglobe, God had dropped an idea into his head. If he could make it happen...

  But that was for later. Amy’s Christmas gift was now.

  Joy danced inside his chest.

  Thank you, Lord, for another chance to do this right.

  After paying for his pur
chase, he pocketed the small black box inside his coat and, grinning like a man in love, turned his truck toward home and Amy.

  * * *

  Four days before Christmas, the day dawned snowy and cold, the streets of Snowglobe dark. Slackened seasonal cheer matched the general downturn in business. The town’s mood, however, had little effect on Amy.

  Or Rafe, for that matter, she thought, grinning at him over some last-minute Blessing Baskets.

  They were inside the family hall at church, empty boxes scattered around their feet. Rafe’s iPod played the group GoFish and their lively “Christmas with a Capital C.”

  “I guess we could have called in the other volunteers to help,” she told him.

  He slid his arms around her from the back and nuzzled the hair at her nape. “And spoil a prime opportunity to be alone?”

  She leaned into him, head rested on his strong chest. “So that was your sneaky plan.”

  “Got a problem with it?” His voice was a low, manly growl.

  Amy giggled. “Nope.”

  In one fast motion, he twirled her around and hugged her close, landing a kiss somewhere in the vicinity of her ear.

  “I wonder what Pastor would say about us smooching in the fellowship hall?” she mused.

  “Right. Better get busy. We want families to have their baskets in time to make plans.”

  “I can’t believe the way requests keep coming in. All this need is scary.”

  “Makes you realize how blessed we are, doesn’t it?”

  They were blessed and not just in the financial sense. They were blessed with family and each other. She glanced up into his rugged, honorable face and love swelled like the mountain creeks in spring. “Yes. Yes, it does.”

  With one last kiss—this one on her nose—he got back to work. Happiness bubbled inside Amy. They were adults now, mature and sensible. Their relationship would work this time.

  He pushed a filled basket toward her. “Three to go.”

  She checked the name and address on the tag. “I’ll drive this one out this afternoon while we still have daylight. The roads are passable up that way.”

  “I’d go with you, but something else came up.” He shot her a pleased-with-himself smile.

  She tilted her head, curious, and more than a little disappointed that he wasn’t riding along on the delivery. “What?”

  “An idea to resolve the power problem. At least the part involving the light festival and tree.”

  “Rafe, that would be awesome! But how?”

  “I talked to the Marine Corp Reserves in Billings.”

  Amy stiffened. “How could they possibly help Snowglobe?” And why would they?

  “Since I’m still a reservist, I put in a request to borrow one or two of their tactical generators. Those bad boys can run a field hospital and never sputter. By this time tomorrow, Snowglobe’s light displays will be lighting up the whole valley!”

  Amy stared at him in disbelief. She’d barely heard the news about the generators. His good deed came and slipped away again in the wake of the other.

  “You’re in the reserves?” Her voice trembled. Her stomach churned. This wasn’t possible.

  The shock in her tone turned him serious. “I thought you knew. Is that a problem?”

  Amy’s lips quivered. She couldn’t believe what he was telling her. He was still a marine? “You could be called up.”

  He shrugged, clearly not understanding the magnitude of his admission. “Not likely, but possible.”

  She put a wobbly hand to her forehead. Her throat had gone dry as flour. “I can’t believe this. You should have told me. I can’t do this again, Rafe.”

  “Come on, Amy. This is not a big deal.”

  The worry and insecurity exploded in fury. “Not a big deal? You could leave again. You could be called up to fight a war in some far-off place and where would that leave me?”

  His eyes frosted over like a winter window, blocking out the light of love. “I would hope that leaves you here, waiting for a man who believes in protecting his country, not behaving like some irrational teenager.”

  His words whipped through her, a lash that took her breath. “Irrational? You think I’m irrational for not wanting to have my heart broken again? You lied to me, Rafe. You let me believe you were home to stay.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “I never lied about anything. I am home to stay!”

  “Can you promise that? Can you promise you won’t be called up? Ever?”

  His shoulders sagged. “No. I can’t.” He started toward her, hand out, beseeching. “Come on, Amy. Don’t make this a big deal.”

  She backed away from him, hand up in a stop sign.

  “I swore I’d never let you do this to me again, and like an idiot, I did. But this time, I have sense enough to get out before anything worse happens.” She jabbed a finger at him. “Do not come near me. Do not call me. I am done. Do you understand? I’m done!”

  She grabbed the Blessing Basket from the table and fled, leaving Rafe with a stunned expression and her name on his lips.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rafe sank low on the chair inside the office of Westfield Sports Rentals. With a moan, he massaged his aching eyeballs. Marines don’t cry, even if their hearts are breaking.

  Jake tapped him with a cup of fragrant coffee. “Drink this and tell me what’s going on. You look like your dog died.”

  Gratefully, Rafe sipped at the tongue-searing brew. “Amy.”

  Coffee gurgled as Jake poured himself a mug and dragged a chair up close to Rafe. “I thought the two of you had patched things up. Last night you were so dewy-eyed I thought I’d be sick.”

  Jake’s joke fell flat.

  “I’m not even sure what happened. One minute everything was fine, and then I shared my idea of borrowing a big generator from the Marine Reserves and she went crazy on me.” He slurped another sip of coffee. “She said I should have told her, called me dishonest for not telling her I’m a reservist. I thought she knew. I mean, what does it matter?”

  “You know, Rafe,” Jake said, sounding a lot like their dad. “You’ve spent a lot of years trying to make peace with that woman and she’s done nothing but give you grief.” He tapped a hand on Rafe’s knee. “Maybe it’s time to let her go.”

  Rafe wagged his head from side to side. “Can’t. I love her, Jake.”

  “I know. That’s the lousy part. You always have.”

  Rafe set the mug aside and rubbed his face with both hands. “What a mess. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Trust me, brother. I’m a man without a permanent woman for a reason. Women will cut you off at the knees and leave you bleeding.”

  “I never took you for a cynic.”

  “Realist.”

  “You’ve never been in love.”

  “Never intend to be, either.”

  The logic didn’t make sense, but Rafe was so torn up inside he couldn’t think. While he was still wallowing, a customer arrived and Jake went off to wheel and deal. Moments later, the door whooshed open with a purpose and Dana Caldwell sailed inside, red scarf flying.

  “We need to talk,” she said without preamble. Apparently Amy had already spoken to her mother.

  Wrapping his manners around him, he pushed Jake’s chair with his foot, a silent invitation she accepted. “I don’t think there’s anything either of us can say that will make any difference. Amy’s done. She broke things off again.”

  He thought of the ring he’d bought, stored safe and snug in his bedroom. He thought of his dreams, close enough that he could almost see them, but all his dreams and plans included Amy. The ache of loss pushed at the back of his eyelids.

  Dana carefully plucked at the fingers of her red gloves to pull the
m off. “There are things you need to understand.”

  There were things Amy needed to understand, too. A man had obligations and responsibilities. He started to rise. “Amy didn’t understand. Not then and not now. We’re back where we started and ended five years ago. End of story.”

  She held up a hand, red fingernails a little too cheery for his mood. “Just hear me out.”

  Rafe settled back into his chair. He wanted to make things work. He just didn’t see how talking would do any good.

  “Amy was devastated when her father left us.” Dana’s chin rose a notch, a proud action that told the humiliation she’d endured at the expense of her unfaithful husband. “When he left, he left us both and never looked back. His abandonment was absolute. We heard from him exactly three times after he told me he was leaving. All three times had to do with the divorce and none to do with the daughter who adored him.”

  She swallowed hard, a testament to how difficult the loss was for her to talk about, even after years had passed. “I never understood the way he hurt Amy. His beef was with me and what he viewed as my inadequacies as a wife, not with Amy, but when he left me, he left her, too. She never got over him.”

  Rafe’s gut twisted. Dana was a fine woman and beautiful, too. “Any man that doesn’t see your value is a jerk.”

  “Thank you for that, Rafe.” Her smile was weak. “You were always a good boy with a kind heart. I know you will never hurt Amy the way her father did, but you need to understand something. She’s stuck back there, stuck in his abandonment. When you left, too, she was devastated again. All the pain and rejection came back twofold.”

  “I never abandoned her! I did what was best for her.”

  Dana waved off his protest. “That was your perspective. And even though you and I know you had her best interests at heart, Amy didn’t believe you. Deep inside, in that place that never healed after her dad left, Amy felt abandoned all over again.”

  Rafe blew out a long gust of weariness, at a loss. He needed to think and to pray because, in his estimation, the situation looked hopeless. How could he prove to Amy that he’d never leave her again when he might have to do exactly that?