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.”
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
