The December Market (Shelter Springs #2)

25

“I don’t get it. Why can’t we stay for dinner? I’m so hungry.”

Rafe glanced in the rearview mirror at his son in the back seat of his crew cab pickup.

“We’re only dropping off the tamales Grandpa ordered for the party at the Shelter Inn.”

“What if I want to eat a tamale? I love tamales.”

“You love everything, kiddo.”

“I don’t love radishes. Or chocolate candy with the fruity guts inside.”

Rafe had to admit, he wasn’t a big fan of crème chocolates, either. Give him a good toffee or chocolate-covered almond any day.

This errand seemed fairly superfluous to Rafe, but Paolo had insisted. After he had been assured that Birdie was doing fine, Paolo hadn’t been able to focus on anything else but the tamales.

“I promised everybody I would take tamales from the restaurant to the potluck. I don’t want to disappoint them,” he had said firmly.

“I’m pretty sure people will understand. A bad car accident is a great excuse not to deliver on a tamale promise,” Rafe had told him.

Paolo had been unconvinced. “Your cousin went to all the trouble of making four dozen tamales and I’ve already paid for them. They’re just going to go bad if someone doesn’t eat them. You know how I hate to waste food.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“It would mean a lot to me if you would pick them up and take them to the Shelter Inn for me, but you don’t have to, if it’s too much bother.”

Rafe had rolled his eyes. His grandfather was excellent at delivering guilt trips. It was hard to say no to a man in a hospital bed with bruises and cuts all over his face.

So here he was some hours later, driving to his grandfather’s senior apartment building with four dozen tamales in aluminum serving trays on the passenger seat next to him, sending out their delicious aroma and making his own stomach growl.

He should have ordered some for himself while he was picking these up from his family’s restaurant. Handmade tamales had always been among his favorite things about the holidays, though he expected that had more to do with his memories of everyone gathered around his grandmother’s kitchen. They would all work together, laughing and telling stories while spreading the masala dough on the dried corn husks, topping with the filling, rolling them up carefully then boiling.

He cherished those memories even more, now that his grandmother was gone.

“We can stop and grab something on our way home,” he told his son now.

“Can I have a Happy Meal?”

“We’ll see,” he said as they parked in front of the apartment building. Fast food was, unfortunately, a much more likely option than him spending three hours making his own tamales from scratch.

As soon as he walked into the building, his arms loaded with the four serving trays, it was obvious a party was in full swing. He could hear Christmas music playing on the sound system of the recreation room just beyond the lobby, and a trio of women were setting out food items on long tables. At least a dozen more round tables with chairs took up the large meeting space, covered with red tablecloths decorated with miniature Christmas trees.

It seemed to Rafe that all the residents of the senior apartment facility were already gathered, though he didn’t think the party was supposed to officially start for another twenty minutes.

The first person to see him was Liz Shepherd, who ran the retirement community with her niece McKenna. She rushed over to him. “Oh, Rafe. Such terrible news about your grandfather and Birdie. How are they? Any updates?”

“They are okay. Both of them are banged up, with cuts and bruises. My grandfather’s back is pretty sore and he might have whiplash. No broken bones, as far as the X-rays show. The doctors decided to keep both of them for observation until the morning but if all goes well, they should be back here causing trouble for Christmas Eve tomorrow.”

She closed her eyes and almost sagged with relief. “Thank heavens. We have all been so worried. We thought about canceling the dinner, but McKenna and I suspected that would be the last thing Birdie or Paolo would want us to do.”

“Exactly right. I doubt they would take kindly to finding out anything was canceled because of them. Paolo even sent me to pick up the tamales he ordered from Rosita’s.”

“They smell delicious,” her husband, Steve, exclaimed.

“I know,” Isaac chimed in. “I’m so hungry.”

“You must both stay for dinner.” Liz’s expression was firm. “We have tons of food.”

Isaac tugged at his hand. “Can we, Dad? They even have cupcakes!”

He gazed down at his son. Isaac was hungry. While Rafe didn’t really feel like socializing, he had to admit that after a stressful afternoon in the emergency room, he would much rather have a couple of his cousin’s tamales than fast food. Okay, and maybe a cupcake.

While the demographic skewed toward the senior citizens who lived in the apartment, there were also plenty of younger people, likely family members of the residents. They wouldn’t be out of place among them.

“We could probably stay for a while and grab a plate, if you’re sure there’s enough. Everything looks delicious.”

“Oh yay.” Liz touched his arm. “Trust me, there’s plenty! Find a seat wherever you would like. We should be starting in only a few moments.”

“Can I go see my friends?” Isaac asked, gesturing toward McKenna Dodd’s two cute daughters, who were sitting on the floor in one corner, petting Birdie’s dog, Dash.

“Sure, as long as you stay in this room. You can’t leave to go run around in the halls. Got it?”

Isaac nodded vigorously. “I promise.”

As his son rushed off, Rafe looked around for a seat and spotted Travis Dodd, whom he considered a good friend. As he made his way over to his table, Rafe was stopped several times by people asking after Birdie and Paolo, all with genuine concern on their expressions.

Moving here had been good for his grandfather. He had made new friends, reconnected with old ones and seemed to be surrounded by a community that cared about him. Rafe knew it had not been easy for Paolo to sell his home and downsize here after Rosita’s death but he could see now it had been a wise decision.

Birdie, especially, had been good for his grandfather. Her warmth and kindness had helped him slowly find his way through his grief.

Paolo definitely cared for the woman. If Rafe had any doubts about their growing relationship, they had been erased that afternoon as he witnessed his grandfather’s deep concern for her.

His thoughts naturally shifted from Birdie to her granddaughter, though Amanda never seemed to be far from his thoughts these days. At random moments throughout his day, he would think of that little sprinkle of freckles across her nose, of her vast collection of festive sweaters, of her soft smile that could appear out of nowhere.

As soon as she had walked into his grandfather’s hospital room, Rafe had felt relief and peace, an odd, unaccustomed assurance that as long as she was there, he could find the strength to handle anything that came along.

He remembered that moment when she had sagged into his arms, clasping him tightly as if he were her life preserver in a turbulent sea.

He needed her in his life. Over the past few weeks, Amanda Taylor had become integral to him. She had woven herself into the very fabric of his existence.

“Hey, Rafe,” Travis said in a low voice, holding his sleeping son on his lap. “Sorry to hear about your grandfather. How is he?”

He took a seat at the table, giving the same answer he had offered to Liz and everyone else.

Staying to eat here had been a good idea too, Rafe thought later as he finished his second tamale, then took his last bite of a delicious brisket that apparently James Johnson had smoked on the patio of his apartment unit.

The food was tasty and plentiful, and the company was somehow calming. Most important, Isaac was enjoying himself and now Rafe wouldn’t have to worry about figuring out what to feed him that night.

He stood up to take his paper plate to the garbage can Steve Shepherd had brought out and was considering a cupcake when his attention was drawn to a woman who had just entered the apartment building foyer, outside the recreation room.

His heart seemed to give a little kick of recognition even before he saw for certain that the newcomer was Amanda. She stood at the entrance to the recreation room, looking a little lost until Natalie Shepherd and McKenna Dodd both hurried out of the room to hug her.

He was thinking how glad he was that she had good friends to help her through hard times when Isaac jumped up from the table and ran over to her.

“Hey! It’s my friend! Hi, Amanda.”

Her features softened and she knelt down to hug him. Rafe rose from his chair, intending to retrieve his son, but Amanda seemed in no hurry to let the boy go, as if she needed his sweet-natured comfort.

She stood up as Rafe joined the group. Isaac clung to her hand, as if afraid to let her go.

Yeah. I know how you feel, kid.

As Amanda met his gaze, she appeared for a moment as if she wanted to sink into his arms again. He almost held them out, but then she seemed to draw in a breath and returned to the conversation with her friends.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” McKenna was saying. “I thought for sure you would be staying at the hospital with your grandmother.”

“That is the plan. The nurses said they could pull in a sleep chair for me so I can stay with her overnight. I don’t feel good about leaving her alone even for a moment, but she was worried about Dash and asked me to come check on him and to pick up a few of her things for the night. Her CPAP, her own nightgown, some headphones so she can listen to her audiobook. That kind of thing.”

“Dash is fine,” McKenna assured her. “The girls love having him as a houseguest. They have been fighting over who gets to sleep with him tonight.”

“Oh, that will put Birdie’s mind at ease.”

“Have you had dinner?” Liz asked, ever the nurturer. “You should grab something while you’re here.”

Amanda looked torn. “I should hurry back to the hospital.”

The older woman frowned. “Squeezing out ten more minutes for yourself so that you can eat won’t make any difference to your grandmother but definitely will help you feel better. You have to take care of yourself in order to take care of her.”

That was apparently exactly the right argument. After a moment, Amanda nodded and moved toward the table arrayed with a wide selection of food, Isaac still holding her hand.

“Son. Let Amanda grab some food,” Rafe finally interceded.

“You can sit by us,” Isaac told her in a rather bossy tone.

She agreed before Rafe could tell his son that perhaps Amanda would prefer to sit with her friends.

“I will. Give me a moment, okay?”

Isaac nodded happily and returned to his chair, leaving Rafe to do the same.

A few moments later, Amanda took the empty seat at their table, between Isaac and Travis. She had added some fruit to a plate, a small slice of turkey and one of the tamales from Rosita’s, he was happy to see.

“How was your grandmother when you left?” he asked. He had left the hospital as soon as his grandfather had been moved to a regular room. By then, his parents had arrived to stay with Paolo, and Rafe had to go pick up Isaac from his sister’s house.

He was also tending his brother’s dog while Joe and Crista drove out of state to spend the holiday with her parents, so he had to make a stop at his house first to let Sophie out.

“She’s been sleeping most of the afternoon,” Amanda answered. “The doctor says it’s normal from the adrenaline crash and some of the pain medication they gave her. She says she feels fine, but I’m still worried.”

“Naturally.”

She took a drink from her red plastic cup. “I didn’t expect to see you and Isaac here.”

He gave a wry smile. “It’s been a whole thing. Abuelo insisted I pick up the tamales he ordered from the restaurant in Haven Point. Once we got here, it was tough to say no to all this good food.”

She smiled, though her eyes still looked exhausted. He wanted to rest her head against his shoulder and let her sleep.

She stayed at their table for ten minutes, talking mostly to Travis and McKenna. He did notice she only ate a few bites of the turkey, about a third of the tamale and a few strawberries.

Isaac lasted about half as long, finishing his plate in a rush, then hurrying over to once more play with Dash and the Dodd girls.

Finally, Amanda pushed away from the table, picking up her plate.

“I should be going. I still need to go to Birdie’s apartment to grab her things, then I need to head back to the hospital.”

McKenna jumped up and hugged her again. As Amanda embraced her friend, her chin wobbled slightly. She was keeping up a brave front but was ready to crack at any moment.

He sat for a moment after she took her plate to the garbage, then finally stood himself.

“Would you mind keeping an eye on Isaac for me, just for a few moments?” he asked McKenna and Travis. “I’m going to see if Amanda needs help carrying anything.”

McKenna exchanged a look with her husband that Rafe didn’t quite understand, then she smiled and made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go. That’s very kind of you. Isaac will be fine. We will watch over him.”

He nodded his thanks and left with a strange prickle of unease. He suspected her friend was trying to matchmake and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

Were his growing feelings for Amanda that transparent?

Yeah. Probably.

Pushing away his discomfort, he hurried down the hall. He caught up with Amanda as she used a key fob to unlock Birdie’s door, with its holiday wreath and a cheerful snowman decoration standing sentinel.

As he approached, Amanda looked up with surprise. “Hello,” she said, clearly confused about why he had followed her.

“I thought you might need some help carrying things out to your car.”

The explanation sounded lame, even to him, but she either didn’t notice or was too well-mannered to mention it.

“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be fine but it was nice of you to think of it.”

She opened the door to the apartment that smelled of cinnamon and sugar. He saw the reason when he spotted two cooling racks full of cookies on the countertop.

“Birdie wanted me to take the snickerdoodles she made earlier out for the potluck but they seem to have plenty of dessert. I’ll put some in a bag for you and Isaac. He can eat a few and put a few out for Santa Claus.”

She reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a bag, then started putting cookies in it. Amanda liked to help people. He suspected that was the way she dealt with her own emotions.

“I can put cookies in a bag,” he told her. “Why don’t you work on gathering the things that would bring Birdie comfort?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“I can also drop a few cookies in a bag for you to take to the hospital with you. Maybe the nurses would appreciate it.”

“Birdie would like that. Thank you.”

She moved past him and he thought how taut she suddenly seemed, as if the thin outer covering of her control was starting to crackle.

A few moments later, she emerged from the bedroom with a large tote bag full of items and a rueful expression. “I started with the things on her list and then kept thinking of more. Slippers, some lotion that she likes, clothing for her to wear home tomorrow.”

“Good idea.”

“I wish I could do more for her. She seems so frail in that hospital bed. Every one of her eighty years and then s-some.”

Without warning, Amanda suddenly burst into tears. She dropped the tote and covered her face with her hands. Not knowing what else to do, Rafe reached her side in two steps and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m sorry. I think it must be a d-delayed reaction or something.”

“Understandable. It’s been a rough day. She’s okay, though. They’ll both be okay.”

She cried for a moment, then eased away, reaching for a tissue from a box on the counter adorned with Nutcracker soldiers.

“I’m such a mess.”

If she was a mess, she was a beautiful one. The most lovely mess he had ever seen.

She wiped at her eyes. “I love her so much. I can’t bear thinking about what might have happened.”

“She’s okay,” he repeated. “I have no doubt that in a few days, your grandmother will be back to her same feisty self.”

She gave a watery smile. “I hope so.”

“She will be. Birdie is tough. Something she passed along to her granddaughter.”

Her short laugh sounded rough with disbelief. “I am far from tough. The exact opposite. I’ve been a complete wreck since you called me with the news about the accident.”

“I’m sorry I had to break it to you that way. I didn’t have time to come in person and I figured it would be better to tell you quickly over the phone so you could get to the hospital as soon as possible.”

“No, it was good. You were very sweet. Thank you.”

She gave him a tremulous smile that seemed to reach right in and punch him in the chest. Unable to help himself, Rafe brushed a strand of auburn hair from her face. She gazed up at him, her green eyes wide. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“You are not a mess,” he murmured. “You’re the amazing Amanda Taylor. You’ve got this.”

She sighed against him, her eyes closed. Tenderness soaked through him and he couldn’t help himself. He gently pressed his mouth to hers, a whisper-soft kiss.

That was all he intended to do but when he lifted his mouth away slightly, intending to break the kiss, she made a tiny sound and leaned closer, her mouth moving under his.

For the first time since Mike had called to tell him about Paolo and Birdie, Rafe felt as if he could breathe again. Here, with Amanda, he finally felt peace.

He needed her in his life. Not just for his son but for himself. Because she was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time and he didn’t want to let her go.

He didn’t think the kiss lasted a long time, but in that fleeting moment, Rafe knew for certain he was in love with her. This wasn’t an infatuation or a fleeting attraction. It was a deep, abiding love that had taken root in his heart and his soul.

He pulled her closer, needing her warmth and her softness. He trailed his lips from her mouth to her cheeks so that he could kiss away the salty remnants of her tears.

She gazed at him, her eyes a murky green, then she suddenly blinked several times as if coming out of a spell.

“Stop. Please stop.”

The tremor in her small, distressed voice pierced through to him and he immediately broke away. “What’s wrong?”

“This!” She stepped away, nearly stumbling in her haste. “I don’t want this, Rafe. I can’t want this.”

He refrained from pointing out that she had kissed him like someone who very much wanted whatever “this” she might be referring to. He had only intended a small kiss of comfort. She had been the one who deepened the kiss, who clutched him to her and slid her arms around his neck and pressed her soft curves against him.

He would never, ever argue with a woman who didn’t want him to kiss her, but he also needed to be clear about his feelings.

He stepped away from her and faced her. “I’m not sure what it is exactly that you don’t want, but I have to tell you something. I might be falling in love with you.”

The word sounded trite and not at all adequate to convey his feelings so he tried again.

“Actually, there’s no might about it. I am falling in love with you. I have been for some time.”

She stared at him, eyes huge with shock. He couldn’t tell what she might be thinking and suddenly realized he had picked a lousy time to do this, when she was already on an emotional roller coaster about her grandmother.

He couldn’t help that now. There was no way he was going to backtrack.

He took a chance and reached for her hand, feeling her fingers tremble in his.

“Amanda, you have to know. I haven’t let myself care about anyone since Caitlin. I didn’t want to care about anyone. Life seemed easier that way. Safer. But somehow you have worked your way into my life. Into my heart.”

She closed her eyes for a heartbeat. When she opened them, he saw a myriad of emotions there, too tangled together for him to identify them all except fear, tenderness and a sorrow that instantly filled him with dread.

She slid her fingers from his and curled them into her palms. “I care about you too, Rafe. You and Isaac both. How could I not?”

She inhaled sharply and then let her breath out in a rush. “I have...feelings for you. But it’s not enough. I don’t want this. I don’t want to...to love you.”

He would not have expected the caustic pain that howled through him at her words—pain and loss and anger at himself for revealing his soft underbelly of vulnerability for her to gouge and claw at.

“You don’t want love at all?” He had to ask. “Or you don’t want to love me ?”

She closed her eyes again. When she opened them, they were clear and emotionless, anything she might be feeling hidden away from him.

“Both. I’ve lost too much, Rafe. I am not strong enough to go through this again.”

“Through what?”

She looked away. “I don’t have a good track record at love. I was engaged once to the man I thought was the love of my life, a man who died because of his own recklessness. I was nearly engaged a second time to a man who decided he was still in love with his ex-wife. The first time nearly destroyed me. The second hardened something inside me, I think.”

Of course he knew about Jake. He had been there and had fought to keep the man alive. The other one was a surprise.

“What happened with the second guy?” he had to ask.

Her mouth compressed into a tight line. “Ben had two children I adored and an ex-wife who suddenly decided she wanted him back. For the sake of his girls, we both knew they had to try again.”

“I’m sorry.”

She made a dismissive gesture. “He still loved her. Some part of me knew that, but I wanted a family so much that I ignored the warning signs.”

She swallowed, looking away again. “I don’t miss Ben. Not really. But I have grieved the loss of those girls. I haven’t seen them in two years but they’re still here,” she said, tapping her chest.

She must have been heartbroken. He thought of her kindness with Isaac and the bond the two of them already seemed to have formed.

“I already adore your son,” she went on, confirming his thoughts. “If I truly...let myself care about him and about you, if I allow myself to start dreaming about a future with the two of you and then it...it somehow doesn’t happen, I don’t think I would have the strength to make it through.”

How could he argue against her instinct for self-preservation? He understood it better than most would. He had been fighting the same thing, refusing to give someone else the power to walk away again.

Yet he had given his heart to her, and now she seemed to be confirming everything he had worried about. She was walking away from him, too.

“You won’t even give us a chance?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“There is no us , Rafe. We’re neighbors. I hope somehow we can remain friends. But that’s all. Thank you for your help. I need to go back to the hospital.”

Words flew through his mind, jumbled arguments and pleas, but somehow he sensed in that moment that none of them would do any good. Left with no choice, he pivoted and walked out of the apartment.

She followed him, the tote bag firmly over her shoulder.

She wouldn’t even give him the chance to help carry the bag. Before he could take it from her, before he could say anything else, she hurried out the nearest side door to the parking lot.

For a long time after she left, Rafe stood in the hallway feeling worse than he had in a long time.

He wasn’t ready to talk to anyone yet, until he had a moment to absorb the pain of her blunt rejection, her refusal to accept anything from him beyond friendship.

When Caitlin had left him, she had given in to her addiction.

Amanda was surrendering to her own fears.

He was a tough firefighter and paramedic, used to rushing headlong into dangerous situations where he didn’t know what to do and had to act out of instinct and experience.

His arm ached suddenly in the brace, reminding him of Pearl Barnes, stuck on that rooftop after Thanksgiving, too afraid to climb back down to safety. She had only moved after Rafe had talked to her with soothing words, calming her enough that she could find the strength to let him harness her into the bucket so she could be hoisted down.

He couldn’t talk his way through this with Amanda. She was rejecting everything he had to offer, refusing to allow him to take her hand and help her find safety and peace.

She had to find her way through on her own.

He didn’t know if she could do it or was even willing to try. By every indication, she was closing that door firmly between him, shutting him out.

He only knew his priority had to be Isaac. His son had been through enough, losing his mother. Rafe couldn’t afford to risk his emotional well-being more than he already had.

He would have to let her go, no matter how hard it would hurt.