stick around in the mug. “Rafe was the past. I can’t let his presence ruin this homecoming.”
Dana took two thick slices of gingerbread and slid them onto China saucers. “That’s my girl. No looking back.”
Exactly. She hoped.
As they settled into the dainty chairs with their snacks, Amy turned her thoughts from herself to her mother. After Amy’s father had left, Dana Caldwell had thrown herself into the store without complaint, making it better than ever. She must have been devastated by Dad’s betrayal, but Amy had been too young and heartbroken to consider anyone else’s feelings. Now she saw things in a different light. Like King David in the Bible, her mom had grieved the loss. Then she’d wiped her tears, set her eyes on the future and moved on, never looking back at what she could not change.
Was that what God expected her to do? Even with Rafe living in the same town?
She took a nibble of the spiced bread, thinking about how she had changed in the past five years. She’d grown up, grown closer to the Lord. She’d been so ready to come home and take over the shop. She couldn’t let her mother down.
But she hadn’t reckoned on Rafe.
Chapter Two
By closing time, Amy was in the swing of things at the gift shop. She’d made sales, wrapped gifts with shiny foiled papers and voluminous colored ribbons, unpacked the new stock of handcrafted glass ornaments and delivered flowers to New Life Church.
At the latter, she’d enjoyed a chat with Pastor Jacobson and allowed herself, with little effort, to be persuaded to help with the charity food basket preparation and delivery.
“I’ve always loved doing the Blessing Baskets,” she’d told her mother when she’d returned to the shop.
Dana was cleaning up, setting the shop to rights for closing time. With a smile, she said, “It’s a good thing to do and the interaction will put you right back in the heart of Snowglobe’s Christmas celebrations.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Amy took the bottle of Windex from her mother’s hands and spritzed the glass countertop. “Pastor says he’s had more applications for help than ever this year.”
“Times are difficult for many people. That’s why it’s important to do what we can. Some towns have angel trees. In Snowglobe we have food and gift baskets.”
“Apparently the church has had a mountain of donations but not enough volunteers signed up to help sort, box and deliver. Pastor seemed thrilled that I wanted to.”
“Interesting. I know several who’ve mentioned helping. In fact...” Mom’s voice trailed away and she got a strange expression on her face.
“What?”
Her mother reclaimed the Windex bottle and grabbed a paper towel. Without answering, she crossed to the plate glass window and spritzed, rubbing the pane with all her might.
“Mom.” Amy carefully pushed aside a box of glass ornaments and followed her mother. “What’s the deal? Why are you acting weird?”
Outside the gleaming windows, the sidewalk shone dark and damp beneath golden street lamps adorned with red bows. Snowflakes swirled fat and lazy like falling feathers. Cars motored down the streets past other businesses dressed for the holidays. The tiny town of Snowglobe was a Christmas fantasy, a wish come true.
Inside the warm, sweet-smelling gift shop, Dana lowered the Windex bottle and turned slowly to meet her daughter’s gaze. “Did Pastor Jacobson mention who was in charge of the Blessing Basket drive this year?”
“I thought Pastor was.”
“No, he’s not. Rafe is.”
“Rafe!”
Two people passed the shop windows and slowed to admire the display of a snowy lighted village.
“Working with Rafe won’t be a problem, will it?”
Amy swallowed past the protest rising like a volcano. Work with Rafe? In the same room? For hours on end?
“No,” she managed. “No problem at all.”
* * *
Returning from a test drive, Rafe parked the snowmobile in the maintenance bay of Westfield Sports Rentals and dismounted. He pulled off his goggles and helmet, hanging them on the back wall with the rows of similar rental equipment.
His younger brother, Jake, exited the office and strode in his direction. Brotherly love swelled in Rafe’s chest. If not for Jake, he would have arrived home another jobless vet. But before he’d left for the marines, while he was still licking his wounds over losing Amy, he and Jake had come up with the idea of opening a sports rental business. With Rafe’s money, thanks to several years of combat pay, Jake had done the hard work of building the business from the ground up. Knowing this business and his little brother were depending on him had given Rafe something to focus on when war had threatened to overwhelm.
He’d told Jake none of this, of course. But he was grateful.
“How’d she do?” Jake asked, nodding toward the Polaris. In jeans and pullover sweater, he looked like the college man he would be if not for the shop. Good-looking guy, even if Rafe did say so himself. Dark curly hair, blue eyes and a grin that warned the onlooker he was up to something. Mom claimed her sons looked alike but Rafe figured Jake won the handsome dog contest.
“The carburetor’s still not right,” Rafe answered.
“I’ll break it down tomorrow. There must be some sludge buildup in one of the jets.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Rafe fell into step with his brother and returned to the office, a cozy room that served as both business center and customer service area. Rock music boomed from the piped-in stereo. “You gotta change that to Christmas music.”
Jake shrank back in horror. “A steady dose of smarmy muzak about chestnuts and reindeer? Dude! That stuff poisons the soul.”
Rafe grinned a little at his brother’s over-the-top reaction. “Customers like it.”
Jake gripped his throat and made a strangling sound.
“Deal with it. Customer service and all that.” Rafe tapped a fist against his brother’s shoulder. “Besides, a dose of real Christmas would be good for your soul, not poison.”
“Brother, you’re scaring me. You’ve turned into an old man.”
The comment, meant as a sibling jest, struck a tender spot. Jake didn’t get it. He hadn’t been where Rafe had been. He hadn’t seen and done and heard things that make a man ponder the important things in life. Rafe thanked God for that. And there was the crux. God. Like Rafe had been before joining the military, Jake’s faith didn’t mean much. He was morally a decent man. That was enough.
Or so Rafe had thought.
If there was one fact big brother had learned on the front lines, it was that men die with God on their lips. Some curse Him. Some
