Page 70 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
“Yeah.” Steve glanced at her, his tired frown lightening. “Not sure I really want to rest once I get some free time, though.”
“Oh?” Her heart gave a happy little skip. “What would you be interested in doing instead?”
“I don’t know… Something like this?” Bending down, he pressed his cold face into the curve of her neck. She gave a laughing shriek at the chill of his skin. His lips quickly warmed her as he kissed her neck, however. Tipping her head to the side to give him better access, she closed her eyes as he worked his way up to the sensitive spot under her jaw.
When he pulled away, she made a disappointed sound as she turned toward him. “I wish I could.” The heat in his gaze proved his words were true. “I have to go on this call. Will you check on Q in a couple of hours if I’m not back? I tried calling my brothers, but none of them are answering their phones.”
“Of course I will, but none? Are you worried?”
“No. They’re at this Christmas Eve party they go to every year. It’s probably too loud to hear their phones.”
That didn’t seem right. “Joe went to a party?”
He laughed. “No. Ryan and Nate are there. Joe probably turned his phone off, like he always does. Thanks for watching the kids and looking in on Q.” Pressing a quick—too quick—kiss on her mouth, he turned to go.
“Wait! Take some soup.” She handed him the travel mug. Giving her another kiss, he jogged toward the machine shed where his truck was parked.
She headed back to the house, glad that he at least had gotten some food before he left. The kitchen was clean and quiet. She found the kids in the living room, reading or playing on their tablets, with the Christmas tree all lit up. It rustled, and she winced, knowing that Lucy was climbing it again. Hopefully, the cat wouldn’t knock over the entire tree.
“Hey,” Camille said, and the kids looked up. “Your dad had to go on a call.”
“Another one?” Will echoed her words from earlier.
“He said this is a busy time of year for fires.”
Zoe nodded. “That’s true. I remember that from other Christmases.”
“How’s Q?” Maya asked.
“Good. Your dad asked if I’d check him in a few hours if he’s not back.” When she saw Maya’s uncertain look, she added, “If Q looks at all uncomfortable, I’ll come get you, if that’s okay? You can tell me if something’s wrong or not. If he relapses, we’ll call the vet again.”
This seemed to soothe Maya’s worries, and she nodded before turning back to her book. Camille lingered for a moment, taking in the quiet peace of the room. She’d always considered her solitary existence peaceful, but this farmhouse, Steve and his kids and brothers, made her realize how lonely and isolated she’d been. Standing there watching the kids filled her with a contentment so deep it was hard to leave the room. The lure of a hot shower finally was enough to tear her away from the cozy scene, and she made her way upstairs.
Once she was clean and finally warm all the way through, Camille returned to the living room. The kids had turned off all the lights except the multicolored ones on the tree. They spent an hour telling stories about other Christmases, although Camille listened more than she contributed. She and her grandma had celebrated quietly, which didn’t lead to many interesting tales. It was yet another Christmas-card moment, and she carefully added the memory to the others she held close to her heart.
The kids, tired by the hours in the barn and the stressful evening, went to bed early, despite their muted excitement about the next day. Zoe gave her a sleepy smile, and Maya hugged her hard around the waist before they climbed the stairs, and Camille had to blink back tears once again. She still couldn’t believe that she’d been welcomed into this amazing family. Micah gave her one of his side hugs—quick but almost unbearably sweet—as Will watched with an unreadable expression. Once Micah was upstairs, Will turned to Camille, his face serious.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Without waiting for her to respond, he headed upstairs, taking the stairs three at a time. Camille stood in the now-vacated living room, staring at the tree with a smile. Even despite the pony’s colic, she couldn’t remember ever having a better Christmas Eve.
Camille checked on Q—who was happily munching on hay with no sign of pain and, best of all, had several new piles of manure in his stall—before heading to bed. When she stuck her head in to give Maya a pony report, she saw both girls were already sleeping, so she slipped back to Steve’s room—theirroom. She felt a warm glow at the thought.
She set her phone alarm to go off in two hours so she could do another pony check. She wished she’d asked Steve where the kids’ presents were hidden, so she could make sure they were under the tree by morning if he was stuck on a long call.
Resting her cheek on her pillow, she looked at the empty half of the bed. The horrible horse sculpture still sat on the bedside table, even though she’d threatened to toss it in the scrap pile. Steve said he was fond of it, because it showed that she wasn’t always perfect. Remembering that moment, Camille snorted, even as her chest warmed. It was nice to have someone think she was so amazing that he needed proof of her flaws—really nice. She started to frown as she stared at the horse. Even if one of the kids had placed it in her room with good intentions, the presence of the sculpture bothered her.
Feeling a little silly, she slid out of bed and grabbed the horse, placing it on a shelf in the closet. “Don’t kill me while I sleep,” she warned the little demon riders, who looked even more menacing with fire damage discoloring their little bodies. Closing the closet door, she snuggled back into bed, her gaze on Steve’s empty pillow again.
Even though she hadn’t been sharing a bed with Steve for very long, it felt empty when he wasn’t there with her. She slid a hand over the fuzzy flannel pillowcase, picturing him asleep. It was rare that she woke up before he did, but she loved seeing him relaxed and soft, the worry lines on his face invisible in the dim light. Smiling at the thought of him, she fell asleep quickly. When her alarm went off at midnight, she felt like she’d just closed her eyes a second ago.
Dragging herself out of bed, she dressed and headed downstairs with her eyes still mostly closed.
“Checking the pony?”
Nate’s voice startled her, bringing her fully awake. She saw him standing by the stove, pouring something from a pan into a travel mug. “Yes. Sorry, I didn’t see you. I’m mostly sleepwalking.”
His soft chuckle sounded a little fuzzy around the edges, and she smiled. He must’ve had a few drinks at the Christmas Eve party he and Ryan had attended. “Do you want me to check him for you?”
