Page 76 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
She swung her arm, wishing she knew how to fight, but he easily blocked her with his free hand. With a sound of rage, she struck out again, this time catching the edge of his face shield. Locking her fingers around it, she shoved it upward as hard as she could, taking a grim satisfaction in his grunt of pain. The helmet and shield tumbled to the ground, revealing his all-too-human face.
Shock turned her rigid as recognition hit her.
“Nate?”
“Don’t be scared, Camille,” he said, and it was somehow so much more horrible to hear the familiar voice coming from this threatening figure. His attempt at a smile sent a shiver of horror through her. “I’m rescuing you. I got you out of the barn.”
“I don’t understand. Why’d you drag me in here?” A flare of doubt, telling her that she might’ve been wrong to run from him, tickled her stomach, but she squashed it. “This isn’t safe!” She waved an arm at the burning trees surrounding them.
“I know.” He took a step and staggered slightly, reminding Camille of his slurred words in the kitchen. “I was going to take you to safety—Iwantedto take you to safety—but Steve was following us. He would’ve taken over, and everyone would’ve called him the hero.Again.All of this would’ve been for nothing.”
“You’re not making sense!” Her voice went high with panic as the wind blasted, sending a shower of sparks swirling around them. She jumped away, frantically looking around, searching for an escape.
“Camille!” Steve’s shout came again, closer this time. It was the best thing she’d ever heard.
“Steve!” she shouted back. “We’re here!”
“No!” Nate lunged for her, grabbing her arm and pulling her back against him. “He doesn’t get to be the hero. Not this time!”
“Camille!” Steve burst into their small clearing, and Camille had never seen anything so beautiful as his sooty, terrified face. He lunged toward them but then froze, his gaze locked on her attacker’s face, his soot-streaked face blank with shock and horror.
“Nate?” Steve’s voice, filled with utter disbelief, cracked as he said his brother’s name.
Nate’s arm looped around Camille’s neck as he yanked her closer, pressing against her throat when she tried to fight back and making it even harder to breathe. “Why are you here? You were supposed to be at the fire! Why do you make everything so hard?”
“What?” Grief and anger replaced the shock in Steve’s expression as he took a step toward them, and Nate’s arm tightened. Struggling, her vision slowly fuzzing, Camille began to choke. “Let her go! What are you doing?”
“It’s my turn to save the day,” Nate shouted as Camille fought to pull air into her lungs. “I planned everything so carefully.Iget to be the hero this time!”
With a roar, Steve lunged forward, swinging a fist at Nate’s face. When the arm around her neck loosened, Camille dropped to the ground, banging her chin on Nate’s forearm hard enough to leave her stunned. Her head spun as the flames shot higher around them, embers and sparks hissing as they hit the snowy ground. A burning branch broke from one of the trees and fell next to her arm, and the flare of heat brought her out of her daze.
Shaking off her dizziness, she crawled away as Steve let out a pained grunt. Fear for him clutched her when she saw Nate’s fist swing toward his center, hitting with a thud that bent Steve in half. Looking around frantically, she spotted a wooden box of the handsaws they used to cut down the trees. Stumbling toward the box, she grabbed one of the saws and turned back toward the pair, unsure how she was going to use her newfound weapon, but unwilling to let Steve battle it out alone.
With a primal wordless cry, Nate plowed forward, driving his shoulder into Steve’s middle. The two brothers tumbled to the ground, hitting the snowy ground as a shower of sparks cascaded over them. They rolled over and then over again, each struggling for control of the other, locked in a tight battle.
Camille took a step toward them, breathing hard, fear and smoke squeezing her lungs, unable to tell who was who in the uneven light of the flames. Steve rolled them once more, flipping his brother over so that Nate was on the ground, knocking slush and blackened branches to the side. Rearing up, Steve swung, his fist striking Nate in the face: once, twice, three times.
Finally, Nate went limp, his head and limbs falling into the melting snow beneath them. Panting, Steve stared down at his brother for a long moment before slowly pushing himself to his feet. Swaying, he looked at Camille. Dropping the saw, Camille launched herself at Steve.
He gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly but carefully, as if she was something precious. It was over too soon, though, and he set her away from him, his eyes raking over her as if checking for injuries.
“Can you walk?” he asked, his voice a husky rasp as he stripped off his bunker coat and wrapped it around her.
She nodded, although she wasn’t sure how long she could stay on her feet. Steve propped his unconscious brother up and pulled him over his shoulders. Camille stared at Nate, unable to accept that Steve’s sweet brother was the figure from her nightmares…and the person who’d almost led her to her death. She dragged her eyes away from him and met Steve’s gaze instead.
“Let’s get out of here.” She grabbed onto the back of his belt with a shaking hand, willing to follow wherever he’d lead, knowing that he’d get her to safety.
That was what Steve did. He kept her safe. Always.
Chapter 20
“This is not,” Camille told Maya, who was cuddled up next to her in the hospital bed, “a Christmas-card moment.”
“No.” Maya’s voice was still hoarse. Both of them had been brought to the hospital for smoke inhalation and, in Camille’s case, a concussion. The drug that Nate had dosed the hot chocolate with had passed through Maya’s system with no aftereffects except a lingering headache. “I’d rather be opening presents right now.”
“I’d rather be on the sleigh ride.”Preferably snuggled under a warm blanket with Steve.
“Me, too. I’d rather be riding my pony.”
