The December Market (Shelter Springs #2)

11

“Well, you survived your first market day shift, only handing out a few bandages and some ibuprofen. Was it as bad as you feared?”

Rafe frowned at his cousin, who had come to relieve him.

“First of all, I never thought it would be bad. And I was right. It was fine. I finished four chapters of my book, I talked to probably a hundred people asking what I did to my arm and I heard from a dozen more who were actually there when I fell and thought for sure I had broken my neck. Oh, and this morning I reinforced the hot cocoa sign so the mug didn’t fall out and roll through the market, causing destruction and mayhem all along its path.”

“You’re a hero.” Izzy grinned.

“I do my best,” he said dryly.

“Did you have a chance to walk through and see what everybody is selling?”

He did not want to confess to his cousin that the only booth he was really interested in was the one across the aisle and down a little, where Amanda Taylor had been busy all day talking to store customers, committee members and other market vendors.

She must be exhausted. Even from here, he thought he could see dark smudges under her eyes that made him want to pick her up, carry her to his truck and drive her home so she could head straight to bed.

“Not really.”

“Before I start my first shift, I always try to make my way through all the stalls to see everything. If you go early, nobody has sold out of anything yet. I make notes of things that interest me and then go back during my breaks or at the end of the night to buy the things I want. It’s awesome. I get half my shopping out of the way in only a few hours.”

“Sounds like you have a system.”

“I stopped at Crista’s booth, too. She was too busy for much chitchat but I knew she would never forgive me if I didn’t at least make an effort to say hi.”

He had stopped by once to say hello, and his sister-in-law and his mother had in turn stopped to greet him on their way back from the restroom or from grabbing a soda. Izzy was right. They had little chance for conversation, as the market had been packed with shoppers all day.

“You should take some time to walk around a little before you head right home.”

“I’ll be working here for two weeks. I’m sure I’ll get a chance to check out everything.”

“I’m still looking for something to get Bo’s mom. She’s picky and hated the purse I got for her birthday in September.”

The mother of Izzy’s current boyfriend, who had lasted longer than most, was a notorious sourpuss. Irene Clyde had been his algebra teacher in high school and Rafe could still remember all those excruciating parent-teacher conferences he had to sit through, listening to her detail all his shortcomings at length.

“Did Irene tell you she hated it?”

“Not in so many words. But I have never seen her use it.”

“Maybe she’s saving it for a special occasion.”

“Ha. I’ll pretend I believe that. You should at least check out the Shelter Inn booth. It’s one row over, on the south side of the aisle. You can say hi to Abuelo .”

“I didn’t know he was here,” Rafe said in surprise. “I haven’t seen him today but I guess I haven’t gone past that way.”

She nodded. “He and Birdie Lovell are working the booth together. From what I could tell, they appear to have a system. She chats up all the customers while he rings up the sales.”

“I guess if it’s working, they should go with it.”

“From what I saw, he seems to be having a great time. I’m glad he has the distraction. It’s good to see him smile again.”

He glanced across the way, to where Amanda was talking to a couple of women whom he knew served on the festival committee with her.

Amanda was not thrilled about the friendship between their grandparents. Had she visited the Shelter Inn booth to see Paolo and Birdie having a good time together, in front of the whole town?

He hoped it no longer bothered her. If Birdie could ease his grandfather’s deep sense of loss a little, Rafe had no problem with their relationship.

“I have to go pick up Isaac. But yeah. I’ll stop by to say hola to him before I go.”

“Sounds good. Anything else I should know about your day?”

I couldn’t stop staring at the shop across the way? Or at least the woman running the shop?

He wasn’t about to tell his nosy cousin that particular information.

“Nope. Good luck. Have fun.”

“Oh, I will.”

As she settled into his chair next to the entrance of the first aid room, Rafe grabbed his coat. When he walked out, he considered going in the opposite direction so he could avoid The Lucky Goat storefront, then decided he was a big tough firefighter. He wasn’t about to run away from one small woman, or his sudden interest in her.

He walked toward her kiosk and saw that her committee members had left. She stood talking to one of her employees. As he neared, she looked up and he thought he saw her eyes light up.

She was wearing a brightly patterned holiday sweater, covered by a black apron that had The Lucky Goat logo imprinted on it.

“You look like you’re leaving for the day. That hardly seems fair. You’ll miss the busiest time, when everybody gets off work and decides to come shopping.”

“Izzy and I are trading shifts. I’ll mostly be working during the afternoons and early evenings. It’s easier with day care, then I can have the chance to spend a few hours with Isaac for dinner and bedtime.”

“Makes sense. Well, have a good evening.”

“You, too.”

Get some rest , he wanted to add, especially when he saw the shadows under her eyes up close. He decided to hold his tongue, not sure she would appreciate the unsolicited advice.

“Before I leave for the night, I’m heading over to the Shelter Inn storefront to say hello to my grandfather. Any message you’d like me to pass along to Birdie?”

“No. Thanks, though. I’ll try to pop over when I get a moment so I can say hello.”

He nodded. “Sounds good. See you tomorrow. Hopefully, I won’t have to climb up any more ladders.”

She smiled, but before she could answer, a customer who had been browsing through the kiosk asked a question. With an apologetic look and a wave to Rafe, she turned to answer.

As he walked away from The Lucky Goat booth, Rafe had to admit hers was by far the best-smelling area of the market, filled with delicious scents that made his mouth water.

Or maybe that was only Amanda.

He pushed away the thought as he made his way two rows over, to the Shelter Inn booth that was about halfway down the row.

His grandfather, he saw as he approached, was wearing a cheerful green plaid holiday cardigan and a broad smile as he chatted with Birdie and a couple of middle-aged women Rafe didn’t know.

His smile widened further when he spotted Rafe approaching.

“Hola, mijo!”

His grandfather opened his arms and Rafe bent down to hug the smaller man. Abrazos were a big deal to Paolo, one of the many things he loved and respected about his grandfather.

“How’s business?”

“Been good. Brisk. Birdie is excellent at reeling in the customers. She knows everyone.”

“Not quite everyone.” She smiled. “Rafe, dear. Hello.”

She must have recognized his voice, he realized. “Hi, Mrs. Lovell.”

She frowned. “Stop that. You call me Birdie like everyone else does.”

“Birdie, then. Great to see your storefront is doing well.”

“So well.” Her voice brimmed over with pride. “We’ve sold out of all the needle felt ornaments we brought and our wooden dinosaur cars are a big hit.”

He looked at the cars, shaped like brontosauruses and triceratops. “I was thinking Isaac might like one of those. What do you think, Abuelo ?”

“Definitely. That boy loves cars and dinosaurs.”

He looked at them for a moment and finally selected a green triceratops car and handed it over to his grandfather to ring up.

“This one looks good.”

“He’ll love it,” Paolo said.

“Which one did you pick?” Birdie asked. She took it from his grandfather and held it close to her face, turning it around in her hands. “I adore this one. Isaac will definitely love it.”

“I don’t need a bag. I can put it in my pocket. I’ll have to hide it somewhere in my truck until he’s asleep and I can put it with all his other presents.”

“Oh, I remember those days with our children,” his grandfather said. “So much fun.”

“Did you all make these things?” Rafe asked, gesturing around the stall overflowing with crafted ornaments, toys and quilted blankets.

Birdie nodded. “The residents of the Shelter Inn spend all year working on things to sell at the market. It keeps our hands busy and we like to think we’re doing something good.”

“A hundred percent of what we make goes to the Giving Market Foundation,” his grandfather said, his features beaming.

“A hundred percent? You don’t save some for overhead?”

“Not a penny. We all donate the labor and the materials for our projects,” Birdie said.

“I made those wind chimes over there,” Paolo said, his voice bursting with pride.

Rafe wasn’t a big wind chime fan but he thought his mother would love to have one of Paolo’s creations in her garden, so he added that to his order.

After saying goodbye, Rafe walked outside to find the outdoor market as busy and bustling as the indoor had been. Maybe more so. Everyone seemed cheerful, bundled up against the cold and holding mugs of cocoa or wassail.

As he walked to the fire station, where he had parked his truck, Rafe noticed all the lovely decorations downtown, including the lights he had strung for Pearl and Opal Barnes.

It was hard not to feel festive, surrounded by all this holiday cheer. He relished the feeling, especially as the past few Christmases had been rough for him and for Isaac.

This would be his third Christmas alone with Isaac since Caitlin lost her battle with sobriety and gave in to her demons.

For a few months, she had lived in Portland with friends from her old life, giving constant promises that she was going to turn her life around soon and return to them.

He had wanted to believe her but somehow hadn’t been surprised when she died of an overdose right before Christmas.

Rafe had still been grieving the woman he had once loved the next Christmas, when Isaac was four. Then the previous year, he had been working through the holidays, busy with what turned out to be a crazy storm.

He was in for an interesting time trying to wrap Isaac’s presents with only one arm, but he would figure out how to make it work.

After their few rough years, he was ready to do anything necessary to make sure his son had an unforgettable Christmas.