Page 13 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
“I’m sorry.” Camille studied her. This candid exchange of dead-mother stories was new to her. Normally, the conversation ended with awkward abruptness as soon as her mom was mentioned, so this unabashed curiosity was actually refreshing. This was the second almost-comfortable conversation she’d had at the ranch, and both had been with Steve’s kids. Maybe she should make it a personal rule not to interact with anyone over eighteen. It would dramatically cut down on awkward interactions. “I’m Camille.”
“Zoe.”
They studied each other for several moments until Camille couldn’t hold back her curiosity any longer. “What the heck are you hoping to make here?”
When Zoe smiled, the corners of her mouth slowly curling up like the ends of a long bow, Camille couldn’t help but grin back. “A personal hovercraft, eventually.”
“Like the ones people make out of plywood and leaf blowers?”
Zoe shook her head, her nose crinkling in distaste. “Smaller than that, and less boring. Mine will have more range and power, and it’ll fit through doorways and in tighter spaces.”
Raising her eyebrows, Camille asked, “Like a flying broomstick?”
Instead of laughing, Zoe seriously considered the comparison. “Sort of, but more comfortable. Like a flying luge.”
“That sounds fun. I’d ride in one of those.” Camille studied the components again and then gave Zoe a sideways look, not sure if she should mention the obvious or not. In the end, she couldn’t hold back. “Isn’t a traditional internal combustion engine—even just a 500cc one—going to be too heavy for that small a craft?”
“Of course.” Zoe’s patient tone was just a hair away from patronizing, and Camille ducked her head to hide a smile. “The hovercraft—well, flying luge—is my end goal. What I’m trying to do right now is put together a combination of an ATV and a trail wheelchair so my friend Wyatt can use it when he visits me out here. Right now, he has to stay in the store or on the plowed, paved paths, and what fun is that? A wheelchair that lets him hike and climb stairs and cut through the pastures will work until I build the hovercraft. Once Wyatt has that, he’ll be able to go anywhere.”
Camille absently fingered a spark plug as she considered Zoe’s plan. “You’re thinking a gas engine for the off-road wheelchair, then?”
That sweet, curling smile appeared again. “Hybrid, so Wyatt doesn’t get stuck in the middle of nowhere by Uncle Joe’s cabin. I’ve been experimenting with different fuels, too.” She gestured toward a stripped-down push lawn mower. The only pieces left of it were the frame and the motor, both of which looked like they’d been pushed over a cliff, straight into a bonfire. “That’s what you heard earlier.”
Alarm bells went off in Camille’s head. “Um, you’re mixing different chemicals?”
“It’s okay. Normally, they don’t explode like that.”
“Explode like what?”
Steve’s deep voice made them both spin around to see him entering the workshop through the office door. He was frowning sternly at Zoe, who immediately dropped her head to stare at her steel-toed work boots. His severe gaze moved to Camille, who felt both inexplicably guilty and enormously drawn to him. Neither feeling was comfortable, but she still couldn’t manage to look away.
“Camille.” Surprise lightened his frown. “What are you doing here?”
Her mind instantly blanked. It was ridiculous, really, her inability to function around Steve. She should’ve grown out of this nonsense a long time ago, but apparently he still had the ability to reduce her to a timid fourteen-year-old. Sure, she wasn’t that great at dealing with other adults, but most of her interactions with the other townspeople were just awkward. When she was around Steve, she was filled with a mix of bubbling excitement and anticipation, but there was also the overwhelming knowledge that she was Camille Brandt, Borne’s resident oddball, which meant that she was going to say something inappropriate or overly personal or completely bizarre.
It didn’t matter much when most people thought she was irredeemably weird, but it hurt to think of Steve seeing her that way. The only way she could think to prevent that was to stay completely silent when she was around him. Sure, he mightthinkshe was strange, but she didn’t have to confirm it.
Zoe looked at her curiously, jarring Camille out of her mental paralysis and making her realize that the silence was stretching awkwardly. She had to say something. “Um…the sculptures. My metalwork, I mean. In the shop, they are.” Great, now she was talking like Yoda. Clearing her throat, she arranged the words in her head before trying again. “I dropped off some metal sculptures at the shop. Ryan had me wait in the office so he could bring Joe his keys, and then I heard a—”
Catching Zoe’s anxious glance, Camille quickly switched words. “I heard a sound in here and was curious. I met Zoe, and we were talking engines and personal transports when you arrived.” To her relief, she managed to stop talking before the wordsflying lugemade it out of her mouth. It sounded weird enough in context without her babbling it to Steve because his strong jaw was making her light-headed.
He made ahmmsound before turning to his daughter. “Where’s your adult?”
Camille cleared her throat. “I’m officially one. An adult, I mean.”
Steve glanced at her, and his mouth softened slightly before he firmed it again, giving her the impression that he was having a tough time holding his stern expression. “We can’t have you blown up. You’re not covered under our insurance.”
Camille blinked. “You’re insured for explosions?”
“It seemed like a smart financial move.” He gave her the slightest of winks before returning his attention to his daughter. “Before Camille came in here, when you were working on your engine and there was a sound that might or might not have been an explosion, what adult was with you?”
“No one?” Zoe risked a glance at her father’s stony expression before rushing out the rest of her explanation. “Uncle Ryan was in here with me before, but then he saw something out the window that made him run out really fast, and I tried waiting for him to come back, but he was taking forever, so I worked on something, but it wasn’t technicallythisengine.” She gestured toward the parts on the table, very obviously not looking toward the blown-out lawn mower remains.
“What was it then? Technically?”
Her voice came out very quietly. “Fuel experimentation?”
“Fuel experimentation.” Steve briefly closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. When he reopened them, all the earlier restrained humor seemed to have disappeared. “Zoe. What are we going to do about this? You can’t keep this up. I’ve seen too many people burned or worse…” He clamped his lips together, cutting off that line of thought. After a long pause, he spoke again. “You’re grounded from the workshop for a week. No working with fuel or mechanical parts or anything even slightly combustible, got it?”
