A Snowglobe Christmas. Линда Гуднайт
“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