Page 71 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
“That’s okay.” She felt a little awkward refusing his help, but she’d promised Maya she’d personally make sure that Q was still recovering. “I’m awake now, and I won’t be able to sleep unless I see him with my own eyes.”
“Here,” he said, holding out the mug. “Take this, at least. Hot chocolate with peppermint. It’ll help keep you warm.”
“Thanks.” She accepted the mug. “How was the party?”
“The party?” One of his shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “It was fine. Same as every year. You know how it is, living in the town you grew up in. Everyone thinks they know you.” There was a melancholy sound to his voice that Camille was feeling too sleepy to interpret. Even on her best days, she wasn’t very good at counseling people.
She made ahmmsound that could be taken as agreement. “Where’s Ryan?”
“Not sure. He left the party early, said he had to take care of something.” He gave a slight eye roll. “You know Ryan.”
She didn’t, really, but she let that go. “Thanks for coming over. I’m always a little nervous when Steve has to go on a call at night.”
He paused. “You don’t ever have to worry, Camille. I’ll always be here to protect you.”
“Well,” she said, inching toward the door, the mug gripped in her hand, and feeling a little awkward at the intense turn of their conversation. “Thank you for the hot chocolate.” Raising it in an awkward salute, she slipped out of the kitchen.
The cold air erased the last of her sleepiness when she stepped outside, and she took a second to appreciate the beautiful night. The stars were so bright and close, and light from the three-quarter moon made the snow covering the pastures glow a bluish-white. Micah’s snow horse was still there, and it made her smile every time she looked at it.
“Merry Christmas,” she said quietly, speaking to the snow horse and the ranch and all its residents, even those not there at the moment. She hoped that Steve was safe, that mopping up the last bits of the fire had been as simple as he’d expected, and that the injured firefighter’s hand wasn’t damaged too badly. She silently gave thanks, loving that she was a part of this ranch and connected to all the people who lived there. As she walked to the barn, the only sound was the crunch of snow under her boots.
There was a gap between the sliding door and the wall. It was just a few inches, but she frowned at it, the dark space sending a ripple of unease through her. She distinctly remembered closing and latching the door when she’d checked on the pony earlier. Had someone else been in the barn? Who?
Shaking off her nerves, she scolded herself for letting such a small thing unnerve her. It was just the late night and the quiet of the barn that were making her overthink things. Opening the door a little more so she could slip inside, she moved to turn on the lights and then hesitated, looking around. The open door had spooked her, and the strange moonlight shadows didn’t help. She listened, trying to hear anything out of the ordinary, but the only sound was the rustling of the horses moving in their stalls.
Letting out a long breath, she shook her head at her jumpiness. She was getting spooked over nothing. She reached for the light switch again. Before she could turn it on, there was a loud thud. She froze, not even breathing as she waited for the noise to come again. When it was quiet, she moved cautiously forward, starting to feel like it had been a figment of her imagination.
She moved down the row of stalls, peering into each one, her heart beating so loudly in her ears that she worried she’d miss hearing other more menacing sounds. Was someone in the barn? She tried to dismiss her fears, telling herself that her nightmares had her on edge, but her body stayed tense, her eyes seeing menacing intruders in every shadow. Slowing her breathing, she passed the dark shapes sleeping in the stalls, the shadows turning regular horses into nightmare forms. Each rustle and exhale made her jump. All the noises that would’ve been innocent and innocuous during the cheerful light of day became ominous in the dim light of the barn.
As she passed Buttercup’s stall, the mare snaked out her head, and Camille sucked in a breath at the sudden movement. She spun toward the stall, peering through the gloom to see the mare catch the lip of her hanging grain bucket in her teeth and then let it go. The pail swung back and thumped against the side of her stall. Her heart still pounding out of control, Camille let out the breath she’d been holding, her legs wobbly with leftover adrenaline and relief.
“Buttercup,” she said, whispering for some strange reason. “You scared me to death.”
Determined to quit jumping at shadows, she moved to the pony’s stall. He whickered at her, sticking his head over the stall door, and she smiled. If he was feeling well enough to beg for treats, then he’d be just fine.
It wasn’t until she got right up next to his stall that she saw the dark shape in the far corner. Her heart jolted for a moment until she recognized what—who—it was. Maya was curled up, asleep, wrapped in the fleece blanket Camille had brought from the house earlier.
“Maya,” she said softly, nudging Q back so she could slip into the stall with them. Crouching down, she put a hand on the girl’s slight shoulder, and Maya awoke with a start. Remembering her earlier moment of panic, Camille quickly said, “It’s me. I came to check Q and found you.”
Pushing up to a sitting position, Maya shoved her hair out of her face. “Sorry. I woke up, and I was worried.”
“It’s okay.” Suddenly chilly, Camille sat down in the shavings next to her, wrapping an arm around Maya’s shoulders and tugging the edge of the blanket over her. “Give me some of that, and you can have some of this hot chocolate. I’m freezing.”
With a small laugh, Maya rearranged the blanket so it covered both of them and then took the travel mug out of Camille’s hand. They sat quietly for a moment, Maya taking sips of hot chocolate. After a few minutes, she passed back the mug and laid her head on Camille’s shoulder. Wrapped up together like that, Camille actually felt warm.
“Merry Christmas,” Camille said.
“It’s Christmas?”
“Very, very early on Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.” There was a smile in Maya’s voice. “I’ve already gotten what I wanted, though.”
“Q being okay?” Camille guessed.
“Yeah.” She paused. “Plus you’re here for Christmas. That’s a pretty great gift, too.”
“I’m glad I’m here.” Unable to stop the beaming smile that took over her face, Camille looked at the pony as he lipped at some stray bits of hay. “He’s so much better. When I walked up to the stall just now, he was nickering for treats.”
