Page 21 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
She froze, just as the noise stopped. After a good half-minute of holding her breath, she heard the light pattering sound start up again. Trying to stay quiet, Camille slid the dresser drawer closed, pajamas gripped in her hand, and tiptoed across the room. The ancient wood floor betrayed her, creaking loudly, and she went still.
It took longer this time for the sound to start up again. When it did, it was in the other corner of the room, close to the floor. Camille had a sneaking suspicion that she knew what it was, and she moved toward the door, fumbling for the light switch. She flicked it on, not caring if Mrs. Lin saw her. If she was going to stalk a mouse, she needed to be able to see, even if that meant she’d be Mrs. Lin’s entertainment for the night.
Camille stared at the corner where she’d last heard the noise, but there was nothing there now. As she waited for the rodent to either show itself or make some sound, Lucy padded into the room.
“You’ve been slacking on the job, LuLu,” Camille said, but the cat ignored her and jumped on the bed. “You’re just lucky I’m a lenient boss, or I’d write you up for this.” Curling up into a ball, Lucy closed her eyes, apparently not concerned about their small, furry, probably pestilence-carrying roommates. After a few minutes when the mouse didn’t bother to reappear, Camille headed for the bathroom.
This is why I should be living in a condo in LoDo Denver, rather than a hundred-year-old house in Borne, she thought as she turned on the shower, stripping as she waited for her ancient water heater to deliver.No mice, new appliances, no nosy Mrs. Lin as a neighbor…It sounded heavenly.
No workshop, no Springfield ranch, no more Steve…That didn’t sound as fun. Despite the anxiety that flared to life at even the thought of an encounter with Steve Springfield, the idea of not running into him during her visit the next day made her feel flat and let down.
She shook her head. “You’re a mess, Camille Brandt…worse than that atrocious horse sculpture.” After a moment, she made a face. “No, nothing else is that big of a mess.”
Sick of obsessing about Steve, she stepped into the shower, even though the water hadn’t fully warmed yet. She flinched as the chilly spray hit her, but she figured it was for the best. Ever since she’d encountered Steve in the grocery store, she’d been in fairly constant need of a cold shower.
After her shower, she dried off and put on the pajamas before wrapping her wet hair in a towel. As she padded toward her bedroom, a light scratching sound made her huff an exasperated breath.
“It’s like the mice know that Lucy’s lazy and I’m too softhearted to set traps.” Maybe she’d get some humane traps and release the mice she caught in the scrapyard. There were plenty of good hiding spots for a mouse there.
In her room, she paused, listening. Thescritching sound came again, but it wasn’t coming from her bedroom. Frowning, she followed the faint noise downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs, she reached for the light switch and then paused. It wasn’t just the thought of Mrs. Lin peering in through the windows that made her leave the living room in darkness.Anyonecould be watching. The memory of Mrs. Lin’s picture, that menacing figure standing on her porch, ran through her mind, and she felt goose bumps lift on her arms.
The sound came again, making her jump. She laughed at herself for being so easily scared, but even her huff of amusement came out shaky. Trying to force away her nervousness, she crossed the living room, ignoring the shadows that pooled around her furniture, creating dark hiding places for all sorts of bogeymen.
“Stop it,” she muttered, pausing again to listen. The noise was close. She moved toward the window, reaching for the string to open the blinds. Her hand trembled on the cord, and she tried to mock her fear, but it didn’t help. She still didn’t want to look out into the dark night.
Gritting her teeth, she gave the cord a sharp pull. A pale shape appeared right in front of her, flashing across the glass when she jerked back in fear. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, and her breath froze in her chest as she forced herself closer to the window. It wasn’t until she peered into the empty darkness outside that she realized that she’d been startled by her own reflection in the glass.
Giving a nervous huff of a laugh, she leaned closer, trying to see outside. A part of her wished that she’d just assumed the sound had been a mouse. If she’d done that, she’d already be in bed, not scaring herself silly for no reason.
The scratching sound came again, and she saw the evergreen branch that was brushing against the window. All the air inside her came rushing out in one long exhale.
“Stupid,” she said, feeling almost light-headed with relief. “Scared by a tree branch.”
She started closing the blinds again, but then paused when she saw an odd smudge on the outside of the glass. Curious, she tugged the blinds back open just in time to see the last of the smudge disappear.
“That’s weird.” Leaning in, Camille peered more closely at the spot where the smudge had been, but nothing was there. Her breath fogged the glass, making it harder to see, and she gave up trying to figure out what the magically disappearing mark had been. Her imagination was apparently working overtime tonight.
As she moved away from the glass, the condensation from her breath quickly evaporated. She froze, staring at the spot. That was exactly what the smudge—on theoutsideof the window—had looked like. As the image of someone standing outside her window, so close that their breath fogged the glass, ran through her mind, she jerked on the string, abruptly closing the blinds.
“You’re just freaking yourself out,” she said firmly. “It was from your breath on the inside of the glass. There’s no random monster outside breathing on your windows. Go to bed.”
Despite how much she knew her practical side was right, she still had a hard time falling asleep that night.
* * *
“Camille!”
Steve’s shout made her turn around, clutching her box of sculptures to her chest. It really wasn’t fair. She’d braced herself for seeing him, for possibly running into him in the store or in the tree lot, but this… How was she supposed to keep herself together when he was likethis?
He was riding a leggy bay gelding through the snow with the easy grace of someone who’d been tossed up onto a horse before he could walk. His face was flushed from the cold, and he had a wide, welcoming smile that made Camille a little dazed. He just looked so happy and rugged andwarm, and her stomach was doing a loopy little flip at the sight of him.
“Hi! You’re Camille? You knew my dad when you were kids? Will said you’re going to tell usstoriesabout him.”
The barrage of questions yanked Camille’s attention away from the vision that was Steve and onto his riding companion, a girl who looked to be about ten. She was mounted on the fuzziest, cutest gray pony that Camille had ever seen. Trotting alongside the pair was a large, shaggy mixed-breed dog, his tongue hanging out and snow balled in his fur all the way up to his belly. Behind him was a…goat?
“Yes, I’m Camille. Are you riding with a goat?”
“That’s Maybelle.” Despite her darker hair and more pointed features, the girl clearly shared genes with Steve and Zoe. “She thinks she’s a dog, so she likes to go on walks with us.”
