A Snowglobe Christmas. Линда Гуднайт

      Chapter Four

      “What are these things?” Rafe asked, holding up a skewer of meat and fruit.

      Jake leaned in and took a bite. Mouth full, he said, “I don’t know but they’re good. Katie knows how to throw a party, huh?”

      The birthday/Christmas party was in full swing, the voices of thirty-plus adults competing with a blasting CD player. Rafe figured there was enough food spread on the table, the bar and the end tables to feed everyone in town for a week, and he aimed to sample all of it. Always a gregarious guy, he was having a good time.

      “Hey.” Jake’s elbow jabbed his ribs. “Look who just walked in.”

      Rafe knew before he looked. Lots of people had come through the front door tonight but Jake would only mention one. Amy.

      “So?” he asked, choking down a cracker covered in spicy cheese spread.

      “So, go talk to her. She looks lost.”

      Rafe made a rude noise. “You should get lost.”

      But he watched Amy step inside, her smile tentative, holding a wrapped gift to add to the pile already stacked a foot high under Katie’s twinkling Douglas fir. She did look a little lost as if she’d forgotten how to mingle with old friends.

      Before he could consider all the reasons why he shouldn’t, he excused his way through the packed room to her side.

      At his approach, Amy looked up, startled. “Rafe. I wasn’t expecting you.”

      “Same here.” He was glad she’d come. The room seemed brighter, merrier with Amy in it. “You’re late.”

      Amy bent to place her gift beneath the tree. Her blond hair shone like the tinsel and a few stray hairs danced with static electricity. Rafe remembered how soft and smooth her hair was and how he’d liked the feel on his rough fingers.

      He remembered a lot of things about Amy that he’d liked. Maybe Jake was right. Maybe they could...

      She stood, cutting off the thought he shouldn’t be thinking.

      “Worked late. Mom had something to do tonight.” Her nose was red, her eyes sparkling from the outdoor chill. She looked energized, the way she always had when she’d been outside in the winter. The same way he felt now that she was here.

      When she rubbed her reddened hands together, Rafe resisted the urge to warm them as he used to. He wondered if she remembered.

      “Let me take your coat,” he said, not wanting to let her get away but not knowing what else to say.

      “You don’t have to.” She unsnapped the down anorak and slid it from her shoulders.

      Rafe took it anyway. The scent of fresh, frigid air and Amy’s warm perfume wafted from the thick jacket. “Cold outside.”

      Amy gave him a slight smile as if to say, “This is Montana in the winter. Hello! It’s always cold,” but she didn’t say anything. Still, he felt a little schoolboy stupid.

      “I’ll put this in the back with the others.” He was gratified when she followed him through the jostling crowd.

      Friends stopped them along the way to say hello, joking, and making merry. Amy hugged Todd, the birthday boy, and teased him about getting old. Rafe had a moment of wishing she’d be that warm and friendly with him, not that he deserved anything except the polite reserve he got.

      He didn’t know why he couldn’t give it up. Guilt, he supposed. He owed her.

      “It feels good to be home for Christmas, doesn’t it?” he asked when they were alone, just for a minute, in the hallway.

      “Yes, it does. What’s to eat? I’m starving.” She looked back toward the kitchen as if regretting her decision to follow him toward the coat room.

      “No time for dinner?”

      “No. This is the busy season.”

      He tossed the coat on Katie’s bed with a stack of others and steered her back through the crush. “I highly recommend those kabob things and the hot cheese dip and the pizza and those whirly pinwheel things over there.”

      Amy’s eyes widened. “You tried all those?”

      “Just getting started, too. What’s your pleasure?” He handed her a red paper plate decorated with a smiling reindeer. “There’s dessert but you need sustenance first.”

      “Sustenance. Good word. How about the fruit dip and some of those veggies?”

      “Girl food, but okay. Beats MREs.” Rafe popped a cookie in his mouth, having a better time than he’d expected. At least Amy was talking to him. She was cool but conversant.

      The need to discuss the past pushed in. He pushed back. Don’t mess up the moment. This time last year he’d been lying in a dirt sleeping hole in the barren outposts of Afghanistan. He’d daydreamed of home, of Christmas parties like this, of good friends and good times, and if Amy occupied a lot of those dreams, it was only natural. They’d been together since junior high.

      “Amy. Rafe.” Katie appeared next to them. “This is awesome. I wasn’t sure you’d both come, but seeing you together again just makes my day.”

      Amy made some light remark before Katie moved on, but Rafe felt her withdrawal. She went from friendly Amy to a stiff stranger who quickly wandered away. And Rafe was left out in the cold.

      * * *

      The party was great. The food was delicious. The Dirty Santa game hilarious. Watching grown men finagle and fuss over a pair of snow goggles proved to be the hit of the night. Amy was having fun. Truly. She’d reconnected with her high school friends, including Mack Jennings, who showed more than a passing interest in her homecoming.

      “I’m going for more punch,” Mack, standing at her elbow, said. “Want some?”

      “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

      With a wink, he took her cup and disappeared through the crush. She took an olive from a tray and swiveled around on the bar stool. The first person she spotted was Rafe. She started to turn away but curiosity got the better of her. He hadn’t seemed the least bothered by her avoidance of him. That was good, she supposed. They were both going on with their lives, dealing with the past the way mature adults should.

      Katie’s comment, her insinuation that Rafe and Amy were together, had bothered her. So much so that she’d slipped away from Rafe at the first opportunity. No matter what well-meaning friends thought, painful experience had taught her to protect her heart. Sure, Rafe was the hometown hero, the nice guy who delivered food baskets and taught disabled kids to ski, but that didn’t make him trustworthy.

      She watched him now, sitting across the big living room in an armchair sharing laughs with his brother and Gabby Ralick. The Westfield brothers, in her opinion, were the best-looking men in the room, and Gabby, a divorcée with two kids, seemed to be thrilled with the attention.

      Mack returned with her refilled cup of punch and slid onto the stool next to her. “It’s not polite to stare.”

      Amy lowered her gaze to the paper cup and nonchalantly sipped the sweet liquid. “I wasn’t staring.”

      “He was.”

      “No, he wasn’t! Why would he be?”

      “Maybe