* * *
Amy maneuvered her blue Ford Focus slowly up the snow-packed road and around the mountain toward the home of an elderly widow and her handicapped son. Too proud to ask, the woman and her plight had only come to the notice of the church by accident. Usually, delivering Blessing Baskets filled Amy with joy. Today, all she felt was bereft.
Wheels spun, slipped and then found purchase. Amy refocused on the road, trying to admire the beautiful countryside that so many traveled here to see. Vast pines shot high into a winter blue sky, a sky the color of Rafe’s eyes.
She gripped the steering wheel and grumbled. “Even the sky is tormenting me. Why God? Why did You let this happen again?”
She wished she’d never come back to Snowglobe. She’d been fine in Spokane.
Fine, but not in love, a little voice whispered.
“Well, love’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” She flipped the radio on to find a staticky station spewing out cheerful Christmas music. She, who loved Christmas, was annoyed. She snapped the radio off again.
Rafe had accused her of being irrational. Was she? She didn’t know. But she was too afraid to take a chance. Mom said she’d never forgiven Rafe, that she was punishing him, when the person she really wanted to punish was Dad.
“Too Freudian,” she murmured. She wasn’t that messed up.
Snow started to fall in fat, feathery flakes. She turned on her wipers and slowed, gauging the curving road ahead. Several feet of snow lay all around, down the mountain side and into the woods. Regardless of the bitter cold, Montanans lived for this kind of beauty.
She couldn’t believe Rafe hadn’t said a word about being a reservist. She’d never have gotten involved with him again if she’d known. She’d never have let herself believe and hope and fall in love again.
“Oh, Rafe. I love you. You big jerk. Why can’t you just be my hero and not hero to the whole world?”
Images of him flickered through her mind. Rafe teaching the little boy to drive the sleigh, packing boxes, laughing back at her as his snowmobile sailed past, the tender look right before he kissed her.
So lost in thought was she that when the back of the car fishtailed, she wasn’t ready. Though she grappled at the steering wheel and let off the accelerator, the car seemed to have a mind of its own. Wheels spun, yanking control from her grip. The car careened wildly to one side and came to rest in a tall snowdrift.
For a second, all Amy could hear was the sound of blood pulsing in her temples. She braced her hands at two and ten and pushed back, huffing as if she’d run up the mountain instead of driving. Might-have-beens raced through her mind. She could have gone off the side of the mountain. She could have flipped the car. The distraction of her messed-up life had nearly cost her everything.
Breathing deep to gain her composure, she surveyed the damage. Except for a bump on her forehead and shaky knees, she was unhurt. A few attempts at freeing the car from the deep proved unsuccessful. The jaunty little Ford was stuck.
Dread settled over the initial fear and irritation as she whipped out her cell phone. No bars. No service. She knew that, expected it. Still, losing the connection with help scared her. She was at least six miles from the widow’s home and hadn’t passed a house in a long time. She was, however, still near a road and Rafe knew where she’d gone.
Her heart sank. Rafe was the only one who knew her exact destination. And they weren’t on speaking terms. He wouldn’t even know she hadn’t returned. She could be out here for days. No rescue was en route. She was on her own.
Lowering her head to the steering wheel, Amy prayed. Then she got out of the car and started walking.
* * *
Rafe slammed the hood of an Arctic Cat, satisfied the sleek, powerful machine was serviced and ready for rental. He wiped his hands on a red cloth, grateful for manual labor to keep him busy. The situation with Amy was like a bad tooth, ready to flare up and set him to aching at any given moment.
After stowing the tools in the tall wall chest, he started toward the skis to check which needed waxing. His cell phone chirped.
A look at caller ID and he groaned. Dana. As if he hadn’t been gnawing on what she’d told him all afternoon.
“Hello.”
“Rafe.” She hesitated. “Have you talked to Amy?”
He sighed. “No.” The ball was in Amy’s court, not his. Talking to her was useless at this point. “Maybe we both need some breathing space.”
“She didn’t come home.”
“What?” His scalp prickled.
“Do you know where she went?”
A glance through the window told him what he already knew. Darkness had fallen. Amy had left in plenty of time to avoid nightfall.
“She’s not back?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Rafe. She went to deliver a Blessing Basket and hasn’t returned. I can’t get her on her cell phone.”
“Sit tight. Don’t panic.” His blood pumped like a jackhammer. “Amy’s an outdoorsman and she’s smart.”
“I’m worried.”
So was he. “I’ll find her.”
Vaguely Rafe heard Dana’s sigh of relief as he disconnected, his mind going through the scenarios. What if Amy had had an accident? Mountain roads could be treacherous. What if she was hurt?
The last thought sent him into warp speed.
With a quick explanation to Jake, he geared up, cranked the freshly serviced Cat and roared into the night with only one thought in mind. To find the woman he loved.
He followed the road she would have taken, glad for the choice of conveyance, considering the fresh snowfall. He could move faster and across more terrain on a powerful snowmobile.
In a short time, a bright blue spot against pristine white caught in his headlights. Relief washed through him.
“Amy.”
But in seconds he saw what he didn’t want to believe. The car was empty. Amy was gone.
Jaw tight, he remounted the machine, mind whirring in prayer and possibility. Tracking in darkness wasn’t easy, but he’d done it before. This time nobody was shooting at him. Knowing Amy was out there alone, cold and probably scared, was even worse. With a prayer on his lips and snow quickly obliterating Amy’s boot prints, he set off to find her.
* * *
Amy’s teeth chattered. Her toes had long since grown too numb to feel. She stared around at the dark woods where only the long stretch of snow and wilderness was visible in the moonlight. Where was she?
Bending, she pushed mounds of snow away in search of the road beneath. She didn’t find it. Somehow she’d gotten off the beaten path.
She heard a sound, a low growl. Her skin prickled in fear.
Grizzly bears lived up here.
“Help me, God.” She stared up into the vast, starlit sky, a glorious sight any other time. “Do You see me down here? I’m lost.”
The silly statement made her snort, and she wondered if hypothermia was snatching rational thought. Of course God saw her. He was here, there, everywhere.
She leaned against a tree and considered sitting down for a while to rest. Her legs had grown heavier with each step in the knee-deep snow.
Tired and cold and achy, she thought that a little rest, a quick nap would fix her right up. Back against the rough bark, she slid downward. As her bottom made contact with the powdery snow, she leaned her head back. Rafe flashed behind her eyes. Get up, he seemed to say. You know better. Sleep is deadly.
She forced herself to a stand, wishing Rafe was here. Wishing they hadn’t fought. She wanted do-overs.
“I’m sorry, Rafe.” Cold and shaking, she sank back to the powdery earth.
If she froze to death and no one ever found her, Rafe would never know how much she loved him. Tears, the only heat in her body, flo
oded her eyes.
It came to her then how foolish she’d been to throw away love with a man like Rafe out of insecurity. Rafe loved her. He would always do what was good and right. Wasn’t that enough?
He loved her. She loved him. God had given them a second chance. And she had tossed it away like a handful of snow.
She’d been wrong, terribly wrong. Rafe deserved her love and trust, not her juvenile insecurities.
Gritting her teeth, she struggled to her feet once more. She would not allow hypothermia to rob her and Rafe of a future. One painful step at a time, she pushed on through the knee-high powder.
The growl came again and she stopped, heart clattering as she listened hard against the silent white forest.
Grizzly? No. Something else.
Then the growl became a roar and the roar a recognizable sound, a beautiful sound. A snowmobile.
Rafe. I knew you’d come. It has to be you. Please find me.
“Help!” she shouted, but the word was muffled and weak.
In slow motion, as in a bad dream, she tried to run toward the sound. Her legs barely moved, her heavy boots clumsy.
The roar grew louder and she yelled again. “I’m here.”
As sure as the snow was cold, Amy was certain the snowmobile rider was Rafe. He was the only one who knew where she was. He was the one who would risk everything to find her. He was the man she could depend on.
A sweep of lights found her but disappeared as quickly as they’d come. She stumbled and sprawled into the burning cold snow, facedown. Hot tears pricked her eyes as she struggled to get up again.
The lights swept over her once more and stopped. A bulky figure charged toward the spot where she knelt in the snow. She lifted her arms and he was there, pulling her tightly against his strength.
“You came. You came. I knew you’d come.”
“I’ll always find you, Amy.”
And then she knew what he’d been trying to tell her along. His love was true and strong and no matter where he was, no matter where she was, he was there for her.
He lifted her from the snow as easily as if she were a child and carried her to the sled.
Shivering, she welcomed the heat packs he shoved inside her jacket and into her hands and boots. All business, he said, “We’ll get you warmed up. Drink this.”
Amy took the thermos and moaned at the blessed heat of coffee. “I’m okay now. You’re here.”
“You scared me.” The pale, grim line of his lips testified to his statement. “I thought I might lose you, and if I did—” He swallowed, looked to one side.
“I know.” If she’d needed proof of his love and commitment, she had it. “I don’t want you to lose me. I don’t want to lose you. I am so sorry for being an idiot. I love you, Rafe, no matter what.”
He swiveled back to her. “No matter what? Even if I get called up again?”
Warmed by the coffee and the truth stirring in her chest, she said, “Whatever you have to do, wherever you have to go, you’ll have me here in Snowglobe, waiting. For as long as it takes.”
“Thank God,” he said.
“Yes, thank God. I prayed. He helped you find me.”
Rafe smiled then and pulled her close. “Everything is all right now. You’re safe with me.”
Amy pressed against her hero’s steady, sturdy heart and knew his words were true. Her love was safe. She was safe. Always and forever, she was safe with him.
Epilogue
Springtime in Montana and the purple-pink beauty of the bitterroot flamed against the backdrop of green ponderosas, deep blue mountains and a sky so blue Amy could almost taste it. Saws buzzed and sawdust churned into the sharp, clear air around the site of the home they were building. In the distance at the back of the property, trout leaped and danced for joy in the cold, clear stream running full of icy mountain water.
Amy’s feet sank deep in yellow arrowleaf while at her side Ginger quivered with eagerness to run free in the country. All the pups had found loving homes, and their big brindle mother had found hers, too, with Amy and Rafe.
Amy turned her head to watch a mountain bluebird flit and dart in his search for a suitable place to build his nest. The little male bird was a metaphor, she thought, of the basic male instinct to provide a home for his future family.
She stuck her hands inside the pouch of her sweatshirt. Rafe was doing the same for her and for the children they’d someday have.
The thought made her smile, and filled her with a joy she could not express in words.
That terrible day when she’d gotten lost had changed everything. She knew now that not only was Rafe a man to love and trust, he was a man of action. He would always be a giver, a hero to those in need. True to his word, he’d delivered generators to restore the town’s light displays, and Christmas in Snowglobe had gone off without another hitch. And if his country called, he’d serve with strength and commitment and the promise that she would be proudly waiting for his return.
Beside her, Rafe rolled up the house plans and put his arm around her waist. “It’s coming along.”
“I love it.” She leaned into him. “And I love you.”
“Does this mean you’re ready to set the date?”
Amy held out her left hand. The beautiful diamond he’d given her on Christmas sparkled in the sunlight. “I’ve been ready. You were the one who wanted to wait for the house to be finished.”
Do things right this time, he’d said, and she’d agreed. They’d build first, and after the wedding, they could start life together in their dream home.
“The builder says he’ll be done before the snow flies again.” He turned to her, smiling and confident. “Want to marry me today?”
“Actually, yes. Today. Right now. We can live in the back of my shop.”
He shook his head and laughed. “Don’t tempt me. Waiting is hard even when I know it’s for the best.”
And that was the way Rafe was and one of the many things she loved about him. He would always do what he thought was best. He always had. Now she understood how very important that was. This was a man who would always have her best interest at heart.
“One wedding at a time,” she said. “Let’s get Mom and Jeffrey married first.” For indeed, they’d set the date for midsummer and Amy had come to love the gentle man who loved her mother.
“He’s a good guy. They’ll do great.”
“I know. I’m so happy for Mom.” The Snowglobe Gift Shoppe was hers now and thriving, as was Rafe’s rental business. They would build a good life here, a life that would carry into future generations of sturdy, winter-loving Montanans.
Her joy surged, a great wave that reached out and pulled in everything and everyone around her. God had answered her prayers. He’d sent Rafe when she’d needed him most, and He had taken away her fear. Somehow, through Rafe’s act of Christmas courage, she’d let go of her anger and unforgivingness and embraced the love and goodness that had been waiting for her all along.
“A Christmas wedding would be nice,” she said, touching his beloved face with her fingertips. “Christmas brought us back together.”
“The only thing better than Christmas in Snowglobe is a Christmas wedding in Snowglobe. Especially if it’s our wedding.” He took her cheeks between his hands and kissed her with all the love in his big hero’s heart.
“It’s the busiest time of year.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He gestured at the house. “Another Yuletide homecoming sounds perfect. This one as man and wife.”
“Yes.” She smiled, gazing into his rugged face. “We’ll be coming home again, and this time, it’s forever.”
Ginger leaped up to chase a butterfly. Birds twittered in the towering pines. Amy and Rafe joined hands and started across the yard where someday th
eir children would laugh and play. Together, as man and wife, they’d face the future, knowing as they leaned on their faith and on each other, life would be as beautiful as a Christmas in Snowglobe.
* * * * *
Dear Reader,
I had such fun creating the town of Snowglobe, along with fellow author Lissa Manley. I hope you enjoyed the journey to the beautiful mountains of Montana and felt the warmth and love of A Snowglobe Christmas.
Since Christmas is my favorite time of year and nothing says “Merry Christmas” like a good recipe, I thought I’d share one from my family to yours. It’s easy-as-pie and just as delicious.
PEPPER JELLY CHEESE SPREAD
1 8-oz block of cream cheese
1 jar of mild pepper jelly—or hot if you prefer
1 box of your favorite snack crackers—mine is Ritz
Place the cream cheese on a pretty plate. Pour ½ cup of pepper jelly over the top. Line the sides with crackers. And you have a pretty, tasty snack in a hurry.
Until next time,
Merry Christmas,
Linda Goodnight
Questions for Discussion
Can you describe the story’s setting? Did it add to the tone of the story? How?
Who were the main characters? Could you relate to any of them? Who was your favorite and why?
Pinpoint the romantic conflict. Each character felt justified in his/her response to the situations. Which character do you agree with? Why?
Rafe is ashamed of his nightmares. He believes they are a sign of weakness. Do you agree? Why or why not?
At one point, Amy experiences a sense of loss when she learns her mother has a boyfriend. Do you think this is a typical reaction, even for an adult? Does a divorced woman have a scriptural right to date and if so, under what circumstances?
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