Page 38 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
“It’s not just the job,” she told him honestly, holding his gaze. “It’s you. You’re an honest-to-God hero, Steve Springfield.”
He went still, his eyes heating as they focused on hers. “Camille…” He moved closer, his expression intent.
It was Camille’s turn to freeze. The way he leaned in, his gaze locked with hers, that intense stare that made her belly squeeze with anticipation, made her breath catch. He looked like he wanted to kiss her. The butterflies in her stomach looped and swirled, and Camille tightened her grip on the cat in her arms. Now? Steve was going to kiss hernow, when she was sooty and snotty and still hiccupping with sobs? He shifted even closer, until their faces were only inches apart, and Camille’s eyelids fluttered shut.
Her heart was full to bursting with emotions for Steve, pushing aside all of her other worries. If he was going to kiss her, she was surprisingly okay with that.
“Springfield, I need you on the engine. There’s an issue with one of the pumps.”
Chief Rodriguez’s shout made Camille’s eyes pop open. Steve was still close enough that the air from his sigh brushed her lips. Looking discomfited, he stood up.
“Sorry, Chief.” He gave his head a small shake, as if reorienting himself. “I’m on it.” Turning back to Camille, he gave her an intense look that only lasted a second but made her heart squeeze with the weight of his gaze. “Glad you’re okay, Camille.” Before she could pull herself out of her flustered daze to reply, he’d already jogged off toward the engine’s malfunctioning pump.
“You okay?” Mackenzie asked. Camille realized that the woman had been focusing on the contents of her medic bag while Steve and Camille had been caught up in each other, and she gave Mackenzie a small, appreciative smile for her discretion. “The EMTs should be here in less than a minute.”
“I’m wonderful.” Camille gave the firefighter a tired smile, all the stress and horror and adrenaline of the night hitting her at once.
Mackenzie gave her a careful once-over. “Okay, then I’m going to jump in and give one of the others a break. Just let the chief—he’s the one in the white helmet who keeps shouting orders at people—know if you start feeling dizzy or cold or not right in any way, okay?”
“Got it. I’m fine.” It was the truth, now that Steve and Lucy were safe. “Go ahead.”
As Mackenzie headed to relieve one of the other firefighters, Camille held Lucy tightly. Now that she had her cat in her arms, she was able to look at the house and really notice the damage. She wasn’t a trained firefighter, but Camille still knew that the house wouldn’t be able to be saved. Even if they magically managed to put out the fire in the next few moments, there’d only be a blackened shell left.
Her tears came again, quietly this time, rolling down her cheeks one by one as she silently grieved for the house she grew up in. Her grandma had been so proud of that place and the care she’d taken to furnish and decorate it. Even after she’d died, Camille hadn’t had the heart to change much of anything. She wanted to keep everything the way it was so she could be reminded of her grandma. Now all that was gone. Her home, her workshop, her tools, every last keepsake and possession.
Gone.
Even more practical things, like her driver’s license and her bank card, would need to be replaced. Where was she going to stay? She couldn’t even drive somewhere and stay in a hotel, since she didn’t have an ID or a way to pay or even the keys to her car—although at least the Buick was still intact and parked safely at the curb. Her grief and exhaustion merged, leaving her feeling empty and completely hopeless.
“Camille!” a male voice shouted. She turned her head to see Nate rushing toward her, his expression tight with worry. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said automatically, pushing back all of her tumbling thoughts. “What are you doing here?” For some reason, the thought of all of Search and Rescue descending on her again made her want to hide.
“I was going home after a search-and-rescue call and heard the dispatcher give your address. What happened? What started the fire?”
“There you are!” Ryan jogged toward them, his gaze running over Camille’s bundled figure. “I came as soon as I heard about the fire. Are you hurt?”
“She’s okay,” Nate answered before she could.
Ryan reached her, opening his arms as if he was about to pull her into a hug.
“You might not want to do that,” she warned, drawing back. She tipped her chin toward the cat in her arms. Although Lucy had stopped growling, Camille was positive that the cat would not appreciate being smashed between two bodies. “My cat’s a little upset right now.”
“Understandable.” He eyed her like Mackenzie and Nate had, as if checking for any burns. “Were you hurt at all? I’m so glad you managed to get out.” He glanced at the bonfire of her house and then back at her. “When I heard the dispatcher give your address for a fire call, I had to make sure you were all right.”
“The dispatcher?” Camille felt like her mind had slowed down to half speed. What Ryan was saying didn’t make any sense. “Where’d you hear the dispatcher?”
He hesitated for a beat. “The radio was on in Steve’s bedroom.”
“Oh.” His answer reminded her of another question. “Who’s staying with the kids if you’re here?”
“Joe. I waited until he arrived before I left the ranch.” His hand moved toward her face, but she flinched back, oversensitive from everything that had happened. “Sorry. You have some black streaks. Is that soot?”
One of her shoulders came up in a half shrug. She didn’t really care about her appearance.
“Were you inside when the house was burning?” Nate sounded so worried for her, but Camille couldn’t seem to scrape up any emotions at all. It was as if she’d felt so much and so strongly that she’d hollowed herself out and couldn’t feel anything anymore—at least for a while.
“In the workshop.” The smell and the brightness and the heat of the fire came back at her in a rush, and she barely stopped herself from flinching back. “I got out, but Steve had to go in and get Lucy.”
