The December Market (Shelter Springs #2)

3

Her grandmother had a beau.

Amanda wasn’t quite sure what to think about it.

The day after Thanksgiving, she stood behind the checkout counter of her store, The Lucky Goat, watching Birdie and Paolo Arredondo walk arm in arm through the crowded aisles.

They seemed to be having the time of their lives, sniffing products and comparing prices as they filled a basket that Paolo carried.

At least she thought they were enjoying themselves immensely. She didn’t really have time for more than fleeting glances their way. This was Black Friday and for that day and the next, Small Business Saturday, she expected to be running full tilt.

She had come into the store before dawn to make sure everything was ready and open early for bargain shoppers and likely wouldn’t leave until long after the store closed.

She didn’t mind the long hours and hard work. She loved running her store.

Once, her grandmother had operated an art gallery on this same property. After Birdie decided to close the gallery and retire, when her vision first started to go, Amanda wanted to use it for something herself. She had petitioned her grandmother to let her buy the small building from her.

Amanda knew she wanted to open a store that would help others in the community, especially women looking to augment their family’s income. Through a series of fortunate circumstances, she had decided to focus on locally produced skin care products and handicrafts.

She would never get rich from the store, but she really didn’t need to. Upon her father’s death, she and Griffin had both inherited a sizable chunk.

Griffin had used his to go to medical school and open his family medicine practice.

Through careful investments and moderate spending, Amanda still had much of hers left, even after she purchased the store, as well as Rose Cottage, from her grandmother.

She loved being able to help entrepreneurs. Her suppliers were usually mothers or grandmothers eager to earn a little extra money with a side hustle, making soaps and lotions and lip balms. Amanda also featured a small line of eco-friendly shampoos and conditioners.

On the craft side, she sold handworked fine jewelry, pottery and whimsical items like wind chimes and wood carvings.

Her store was popular with both locals and visitors to Shelter Springs, which was exactly what she had hoped when she decided to open it.

She loved being able to provide quality products to her customers while also helping local craftspeople and entrepreneurs.

“Is that Birdie over there with the hunky older gentleman?”

Her assistant manager and dear friend, Cat Lewis, angled her head toward the older couple.

Amanda peeked at them, trying not to be too obvious. She didn’t need to bother. They weren’t paying attention to anyone but each other. Paolo and Birdie had their heads together now, bent over some cinnamon-scented gingerbread ornaments in the shape of hearts and stars and Christmas trees.

“Apparently. He recently moved into the Shelter Inn and I guess they have become close friends.”

Cat looked delighted. “They are adorable together! Are you sure they’re only friends?”

She wasn’t sure of anything—only that something about Birdie’s burgeoning friendship with Paolo left her distinctly uncomfortable.

“Yes,” she said firmly, trying to convince herself as much as Cat. “They’re only friends.”

“Fun fact. I heard the steepest increased rate of venereal diseases is among those who are over sixty-five years old. Can you believe that?”

She frowned. “I don’t need to even think about that right now, thank you.”

“I’m just saying. I guess it’s because they know they can no longer get pregnant so they prefer to, shall we say, ride bareback.”

“That’s so gross.” Twenty-year-old Scarlet Bennett screwed up her face like Cat had just sprayed her with some new skunk-scented air freshener.

“Let’s change the subject, why don’t we?” Amanda said. She was relieved when one of her regular customers set an armload of products on the checkout counter.

“Did you find everything you needed?” Amanda asked.

“And then some,” Kimmy Hill said with a laugh as she watched her ring up the totals. “Actually, not quite everything. Are you planning to have a kiosk again at the Christmas market this year?”

“Are you kidding?” Cat answered. “Amanda is the chairperson of the market committee. She’s been working on plans for it since the last one closed. It would be a shame to put in all that effort and then not have a stall at the market.”

“Yes. We will definitely have our regular stall there. We’ve been stockpiling inventory for months. If you went last year, we will be in the very same spot. Different products, though.”

Shelter Springs’ annual Giving Market was both a highlight of Amanda’s year and a huge amount of work.

“I think I went to the market three times last year and purchased items from your stall every single time,” Kimmy said with a laugh. “I wish I could have waited to buy these gifts for my book club.”

“They will love these,” Amanda said, gesturing to the dozen Booklover candles, with a scent that always reminded her of old pages, rainy nights and warm fires.

“Well, I would have liked to see a portion of the proceeds go to the charity you’re supporting this year but I have to get these now. We’re having our December meeting next week, before the market opens.”

“Perhaps you missed the sign on the door that announces we’re still donating twenty percent of our Black Friday sales to the food bank.”

Kimmy’s eyes lit up. “I did miss the sign! That’s wonderful. In that case, I think I’ll add that bath bomb gift basket you had back there. I can never figure what to get my sister-in-law but I know she adores taking a good bath. Can you give me a minute to go grab it?”

She ran off before Amanda could point out the two other customers already waiting behind her.

Fortunately, Scarlet quickly moved to the backup cash register. “I can help the next customer,” she said.

Kimmy returned only a moment or two later with one of their bath bomb gift baskets in hand. Amanda had packaged it with a bath scrub and small containers of lemon-scented soap and lotion, as well as an inflatable pillow.

Amanda quickly rang up the woman and had just finished gift wrapping the basket in cellophane tied with a wide buffalo print ribbon when another customer opened the door to enter the store, letting in the strident sound of sirens.

Amanda wasn’t the only one who turned to look out the wide front windows in time to see a fire truck stop in the middle of the road, right in front of her store.

“What’s going on?” Scarlet asked, looking panicked. “Is there a fire?”

Amanda gave the young woman’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Scarlet still suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder after her family’s home in the countryside outside town was consumed by a fast-moving wildfire a few years earlier. She and her parents and siblings had barely escaped alive and were still in the process of rebuilding.

“I’m not sure. Cat, can you take over this cash register? I’ll go check it out.”

She quickly grabbed her coat from the hook inside the supply room and hurried outside. The street was buzzing with people and firefighters, all focused on something happening on the roof of the yarn shop across the street, Cozy Creations.

She watched as a second fire truck approached, this one fitted with a bucket.

“What’s going on?” she asked a bystander.

“Somebody is stuck on the roof, apparently. They went up to hang a few Christmas lights and panicked. That’s what I heard, anyway.”

On the roof? Who on earth was it?

Amanda had a sudden suspicion. The twin sisters who ran the shop, Opal and Pearl Barnes, were both as stubborn as they were frugal. The women tried to do everything themselves, whether that was shoveling snow, repainting their storefront or building new display cases inside.

They hadn’t put up Christmas lights in years past, as far as she could remember. They usually only decorated their front windows with lights around a huge stuffed knit penguin they had made together.

Why hadn’t they asked Amanda for help or hired one of several professional companies that would hang lights for residences or businesses alike?

How had they even gotten up there? She saw a large extension ladder going up the side of the building, which gave her the answer.

The women were in their early seventies. They had no business up on the roof!

She watched the flurry of action as a firefighter she couldn’t recognize from here climbed into the bucket of the truck and it extended up two stories to reach the roof. Amanda caught her breath as the rescuer climbed out, then sidestepped toward the figure she could now see huddled near the edge of the roof.

The crowd on the ground cheered as the firefighter wrapped a blanket around the figure, helped them to their feet and carefully guided them along the roofline.

The sky began to spit snow as a cold wind blew off the lake. Amanda shivered. Her store was packed and she knew she should return to help her customers but she couldn’t drag herself away from the drama happening out here in downtown Shelter Springs.

She had to make sure Opal or Pearl, whichever twin was up there, made it to safety.

“Paolo tells me this is where you went,” a voice suddenly said beside her. “What’s going on? Is there a fire or is someone hurt?” Birdie asked.

Because of her advanced macular degeneration, her grandmother could only see things that were close to her face. Of course she wouldn’t be able to have any idea what was happening all the way across the street. If not for Paolo, hovering closely at her side, Birdie wouldn’t have been able to find Amanda on the crowded street. He must have pointed her out and led Birdie here.

“I don’t know for sure. There seems to be someone stuck on the roof. I don’t know if it’s Opal or Pearl.”

“Oh no! Those poor dears!”

Her grandmother bought yarn and other knitting supplies from Cozy Creations and was friendly with both women.

“What happened?” Paolo asked. “How did they get up there?”

Amanda watched as the firefighter helped the woman back into the bucket. He seemed to be attaching a safety harness to her.

“I’m not sure. I heard from someone they were trying to hang Christmas lights and panicked. I’m not sure if that’s what happened, though.”

“Neither of those nice ladies should be up on a slippery roof,” Paolo said, frowning with concern.

“Agreed. But they are, apparently.”

She moved slightly to the right, where she had a different perspective. Now she could see a woman in a blue coat, knit scarf and hat, standing in front of the store with both hands pressed to her mouth.

“There’s Opal, across the street.” Though her grandmother certainly couldn’t see that far, Amanda pointed to the woman. “So that means the person on the roof must be Pearl.”

“And her with those bad knees! She has no business climbing onto a roof.” Paolo’s face twisted with concern, and Amanda had to wonder if he knew all the women of a certain age in the entire town.

“The rescuer is trying to help her into the bucket, it looks like,” she explained to her grandmother. “They’re going to lower her down that way.”

The town had only recently purchased the bucket truck, she had read in the weekly community newspaper, after their previous ancient one that had been in service for more than thirty years had broken down beyond repair.

“Hey! That’s my grandson up there!” Paolo said. She looked at the firefighter on the roof.

She should have realized. How could she have missed that powerful frame, those broad shoulders inside the firefighter uniform?

Her heart gave a little kick in her chest that severely annoyed her.

She had no business even noticing the man, let alone finding him attractive. In the slightest.

Amanda was fully aware that Rafe Arredondo was likely the last man in town who would ever be interested in her.

Now that she knew it was him, she couldn’t help watching the scene unfolding now through a new perspective, as if she had once more moved to a different viewpoint along the street.

Pearl seemed reluctant to climb into the bucket, clinging tightly to Rafe. He shook his head at something Amanda certainly couldn’t hear, with the increasing wind. Amanda held her breath as he finally managed to help the older woman inside. After a moment, the bucket began to lower, slowly and smoothly at first, then with a sudden lurch that made the crowd gasp.

“What is happening?” Birdie frowned, her face lifted and snowflakes coating her dark glasses.

“The bucket was going down with Pearl in it but it seemed to wobble a little. I’m sure she’s okay.”

“I wonder why Rafe is not riding down with her to make sure she stays safe,” Paolo said, his brow furrowed.

One of the firefighters standing around the scene must have heard the slight condemnation in his voice. He took a step closer to them. “Can’t. It’s against procedure to let a victim go by themselves but in this case it’s probably the safer option. You know how we bought the truck used from a fire department in Texas?”

Paolo nodded. “Yes. My grandson flew down there to drive it back a few months ago.”

“Apparently, there’s a good reason why we got such a good deal on it, despite all the testing we did beforehand and the safety inspections. It’s glitchy. An aerial bucket should be able to hold about six hundred pounds but ours gets shaky if there’s more than about half that inside it. Otherwise we would have sent two guys up there. I imagine Rafe didn’t want to risk it. You shouldn’t worry about Pearl, though. He harnessed her in. She should be fine.”

Amanda watched as the bucket was finally lowered all the way to the ground. A trio of other firefighters swarmed to help her out, and she saw Opal rush over and grab her sister in a tight embrace, to a resounding cheer from the crowd.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Amanda let out a relieved sigh. She ought to return to her store and all the Black Friday customers, but for some reason she couldn’t seem to tear herself away. Rafe was still on the roof and Paolo and Birdie seemed transfixed by the scene. The man was giving Amanda’s grandmother a play-by-play of the action.

Amanda couldn’t quite see what was happening. Rafe seemed to be crouching down on the edge of the roof, then would sidestep along and bend down again every few feet.

“What is he doing?” Birdie asked.

“I’m not quite sure,” Paolo answered.

Amanda narrowed her gaze, then realized he had something in his hands.

“I think he’s finishing the job of hanging the Christmas lights for Opal and Pearl.”

Oh. What a kind thing to do. Despite the pelting snow and the wind knuckling under her coat, Amanda felt warmth seep through her.

He finished in less than ten minutes, a job that likely would have taken her —and most people—an entire afternoon.

When he plugged in the lights and they came on, the crowd below gave another round of applause. Under his helmet, she saw a flash of a smile, and Rafe gave a slight bow in the increasing snow.

This was more excitement than their little downtown business area had seen in a long time. For the sake of the local merchants, she had to hope all the onlookers would return to their shopping when it was over.

“Will they send the bucket back up for him?” Paolo asked the firefighter who had told them about the cut-rate truck.

“I don’t think they want to risk it, especially with the wind getting worse. That’s why they’re putting up the ladder.”

Sure enough, two firefighters had placed another ladder near the shaky one Pearl must have used to climb onto the roof.

Rafe turned and began to climb down. He made it only a few feet when the ladder tilted slightly. One boot slipped out from under him in an alarming way that made the crowd gasp. Firefighters below rushed to support it but it was too late. The shift had thrown Rafe off-balance and his boots scrambled for purchase on the ladder. The next instant, he was falling, falling, at least a dozen feet, then landing with a sickening thud on the sidewalk.

For one horrified moment, Amanda could only stare, then she was racing across the street. She had no idea what she hoped to do, especially with other firefighters and paramedics on-site. She had rushed over only on instinct, wanting to help if she could.

Fearing what she would find, she was relieved to see Rafe sitting up, swearing a blue streak and holding his arm.

“What happened? Are you all right?” Paolo asked, fear and urgency in his voice.

Rafe looked up, brow furrowed. “ Abuelo ? What are you doing here?”

“We were shopping across the street when the fire truck pulled up. We stayed to watch you in action and had more of a show than we expected.”

Rafe’s gaze met Amanda’s and he looked even more confused. She couldn’t blame him. It made sense for his grandfather to rush over after he fell, concerned for his safety. She, on the other hand, had no legitimate reason to be here. She hardly knew the man.

“I think you broke your arm, dude,” one of the firefighters said, giving him a cursory examination.

“And you should feel damn lucky that’s the only thing,” the town fire chief, Mike Bennett, growled. “It could have been your neck.”

“It wasn’t. I’m mostly fine,” Rafe replied. While he said the words casually, she could tell he was in pain.

“You should have come down the minute Miss Barnes was safe, before the wind ratcheted up and snow made the ladder slick as snot,” Mike said.

Rafe shrugged. “I didn’t want Opal or Pearl to feel like they had to go back up on the roof to finish the job.”

The two older women had also joined the growing crowd around Rafe. “Oh, thank you,” Pearl exclaimed. “We wanted to have our great-nephew help us. I’m so glad we didn’t. He would have been killed.”

What about Rafe , who nearly had been?

Amanda swallowed down the words. It wasn’t the women’s fault. They had only been trying to make their shop a little more festive.

“Good thing we’ve got the ambulance here. You’ve earned yourself a ride to the emergency room,” Mike said gruffly.

“I don’t need an ambulance ride. Somebody can just drop me off.”

“It’s here and at the ready. You’re taking it.” The chief spoke in a tone that brooked no argument.

“Will he be okay?” she heard Birdie ask Jordan Foster, one of the volunteer firefighters, whose mother worked with Amanda on the market committee.

“Chief A is tough,” Jordan answered. “It takes more than a little fall off a ladder to stop him.”

She didn’t find his words necessarily reassuring. Poor man, when he had only been trying to help a couple of elderly sisters who eked out a small living at their yarn shop.

How could she help him? she wondered as she headed back to The Lucky Goat and the holiday shoppers. The man lived down the street from her. She had to do something. She couldn’t continue to ignore her new neighbors. He was a single dad, doing his best for his son and for the community.

She would have to see if she could take a meal or something to him and Isaac.

If he could be kind enough to risk his own personal safety, she could certainly step outside her own comfort zone for a moment, at least long enough to help a man who was down.