Rosie plopped down on his butt and wagged like he was agreeing.
This little girl was something else. He wasn’t sure what to say. “Explain to me how your father ended up with three little girls, none of whom are cowboys…”
One of her eyebrows arched. “Well, did you know my momma?”
“I’d met her once or twice, yes.” He’d known Allison—she was a lot like Mitch in that she didn’t have a lot of family, she didn’t have a lot of support, and she managed to keep her chin above water anyway.
“All right, so she wasn’t a cowboy. She was like a momma, I mean, just a momma. And so that’s sort of what Bekka is, justa momma. I read a lot, and I don’t like wearing sparkly hats or jeans with sparkles on the butt or great big belt buckles. I just like animals and reading. And nobody knows what the baby’s going to be yet. She’s just a sister. So would you like her if she was a cowgirl?”
This was fascinating. And he didn’t have to answer. She just went on.
“No one cares. She doesn’t care if I’m a goth. Nobody cares if sister’s whatever the hell sister is.” She kind of winced and looked at him when she said the curse word, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say anything about that or not.
“You probably shouldn’t say that.”
“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry.” She didn’t look particularly sorry, but he got that.
Most of the time he wasn’t sorry either.
“Did they even make goth cowboys? You know, likegothcowboys.”
Cam pondered that for a second, then he nodded. “Sure they do. You see guys out all the time with dark jeans and black hats who scowl a lot. They wear lots of black shirts that have silver liners, and they’ve never even seen a horse.”
“Well, then I’m a step ahead of them because Ihaveseen a horse, and I’mniceto dogs. I wear blackallthe time, and I know how to be a good sister, and I don’t cry when Daddy gets hurt. So I am a better cowboy than any of your fake goth cowboys!”
Cam wasn’t sure where this was going. In fact, he wasn’t really sure what was going on at all except that now Sarah seemed pissed as hell.
Shit, he had no idea what was happening here. Maybe she needed to vent.
Rosie whined, worried that she was angry at him, Cam thought, so he dug out a training treat. “Here, honey. You givethis to him. No pulling back if he looks toothy. He has to learn to not bite, and sometimes that hurts.”
“Yeah, I know how good he can bite.” To that little girl’s credit, Sarah put the treat in her hand, held her hand out, and just stared Rosie down.
Rosie was so good. That sweet baby took the treat with his gentle mouth, wagging hard.
“Can I love on him now?”
“You can totally love on him now, yeah. I’m sorry that you’re mad.”
She stared at him for a long second and rolled her eyes. “I’m always mad.”
“Oh.” He didn’t even know what to say. “Oh” seemed to work, so he just went back to the hay, and Sarah loved on Rosie, and they coexisted for a moment.
His phone rang, startling the hell out of him, and it was a number he didn’t recognize. Weird.
Still, it was a five-oh-five area code, so he answered it. “‘lo?”
“Is this Cam?”
“It is. Who’s this?” Sounded like Mitch.
“It’s Mitch.”
That explained everything. “What’s up, man?”
“They want to do surgery.”
“What?” He didn’t follow.
