“It sounds perfect. I love that they didn’t miss anything.” It was bad enough there were hotel bills and gas bills and the girls missing a chunk of school. Mitch said that they were learning remotely, but he still felt bad. “I can’t believe Mitch had to drive out here and come get me in the middle of a school week.”
“Well, that little bastard who threw in those fireworks ought to be drawn and quartered. I can’t believe he wasn’t raised better, whoever it was. How security let fireworks and a lighter through, I don’t know. Maybe you should sue the arena.”
“Oh, Momma.”
“I know, I know.”
No one was to blame for that firework going off in the arena except for the kid who’d thrown it.
Cam kind of wanted the kid to get more than a slap on the wrist, because if that horse was ruined for arena work, then that was a lot of money, and his medical bills were going to cost him too.
“Well, come on home. We’ll get you healed up and Christmassed, and things will start to look up here soon.”
“I know. I’ll see you tonight. I love you. Tell Dad too.” As freakishly weird as they all were, they were damn good to him.
Mitch came back in and came to sit next to him on the bed, grabbing his good hand. “You okay, love? You ready to go home?”
“I’ve never been more ready to go home. And I want those girls for hugs. I miss them.”
“They miss you.” Mitch’s thumb rubbed a lazy circle over the top of his hand. “They were hot that they didn’t get to come see you here, but they are packed up and ready to take you home. Mark has the horses and your truck at the hotel, and we’re going to trek back where we belong.”
“I’ll need to stop and get some pillows from the Walmart or some such.”
“Mark is making a delivery order. He’s having Cokes, pillows, and God knows what delivered to the hotel.”
Cam’s eyes went wide. “Look at him.”
“I know, right? He’s something else. I can’t wait for you to get to know him again.”
“He coming to stay for Christmas?”
“He is.” Mitch kissed his hand. “I appreciate you being cool with this.”
“Babe, it’s your house.” He didn’t have a real voice in the decision.
“No. No, if we’re an us—and Rachel is calling you Daddy Cam, so we’re a fucking us—it’s our house. Our decisions. Ours.”
He beamed at Mitch. “Ours, huh?”
“Yeah, man. Ours.”
“And Daddy Cam? For real?” That warmed him up, even as it made him chuckle.
“Swear to God. You are the Daddy Cam, congratulations.”
“That’s too damn cool.” Jesus, that made him happy. He had no idea how this had come about, but it had, and in what seemed like a short amount of time. He wasn’t about to be ungrateful, though. In fact he was experiencing his own damn personal joy.
Even if he had to do it with a busted collarbone and wrist.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Fuck, Mitch was glad to be home. When they pulled into the yard, he thought he might just break down and cry. He wasn’t going to because he was with the girls and Cam, and they needed to see him being functional and strong. He wasn’t hurting or anything. His back felt great considering the drive, but he was so relieved.
Mark pulled in behind him, and he knew his buddy was glad to be done with driving that trailer. It was one thing to drive a trailer full of crap, like a U-Haul or something, but it was another to be carrying live cargo. Being responsible for two lives that were hanging out back there in a metal cage had made Mark nuts.
Mitch stretched his back for a minute before he woke up the girls, and Cam chuckled, reaching up to touch his neck from the rear seat. Bekka had ended up sitting next to him, and then they’d put both smaller girls in the third row, so Cam could stretch out.
“You doing okay, baby?” Cam asked.
