Shoulda Been A Cowboy (34 page)

He held his hand up, stopping Domini's
interference, as he spoke to Anton. “I asked, do you
understand?”

“
Yeah, I get it.” Anton walked off and his
bedroom door slammed.

Jesus. That kid pushed his buttons. And it pissed him
off that Domini just let Anton retreat to his room whenever he got
mad, instead of forcing him to talk. But once again, Cam said
nothing. Domini would take the kid's side, guaranteed.

Gracie whined. He said, “Stay,” sharply, and
faced his wife.

Domini rubbed his biceps. “You okay?”

Every time she touched him with concern or caring or
passion, he could almost believe she loved him.

“
I'm fine. Just not looking forward to
trying to break Gracie's bad behavior again.”

“
Do you have to do it yourself?”

“
I always have before.”

“
We're here now. How about if we help you?
After supper, you can show Anton and me how we should correct Gracie
if she veers from her training. That way we'll all know the
right way to keep her in line.”

“
Why would you do that?” He frowned. “You
don't like dogs.”

“
I'll admit Gracie's grown on me.”
She sent Gracie a fond look, but her face was serious when she looked
back at him. “We need to figure out a way to make this work for
all of us.”

Cam knew Domini wasn't just talking about the dog.

Chapter Nineteen

Week Three…

“
Domini, it's Ginger. I have good news!
Anton DeMarco has officially been released into the foster care of
Deputy Cameron McKay and Domini McKay, by Wyoming Department of
Social Services.”

Domini sagged against the counter. “That is good
news, Ginger, thank you. Now what?”

“
Now you adjust to parenting a child full-time.
Social Services will check in periodically. That's about it.”

“
No, I mean when can I start the paperwork for
adopting him?”

Ginger's hesitation was apparent even through the
phone line.

A strange feeling of foreboding flowed through Domini.
“What?”

“
There are a couple of things to do before you
take that permanent step.”

“
Like what?”

“
First, I recommend you hire a private detective
to track down Rex's remaining family.”

Domini frowned. “That's necessary?”

“
Covering all our bases from the start is very
necessary.”

“
But I don't know anything about hiring
private detectives.”

“
If you're interested, I can handle it out
of my office at my standard rate.”

“
Yes. Please. Whatever I need to do, I'll do
it. I don't care how much it costs.”

Ginger chuckled. “Darlin', don't ever
say that to an attorney.”

Domini smiled. “So say the detective tracks these
relatives down, what happens after that?”

“
Then the private detective gives the family
official notification of Rex's death, of financial windfalls of
said death, of which I'm going to assume none, and financial
responsibilities of said death.”

“
Which would be…?”

“
Funeral costs. Payment of any outstanding debts.
The recipient cannot have the gains without the bearing the losses,
understand what I'm saying?”

“
Yes. Then what?”

“
Once that's done, we see if there's
any interest in adoption from his relatives.”

Her stomach clenched. “What are the odds that will
happen?”

“
Slim. However, it is a possibility. You and Cam
have a minimum of six months of Anton living with you as a foster kid
before you can even think of applying for adoption. And it'll
take the detective at least that long to do the first stage of the
legwork on a case like this. Especially if you don't want to
pay through the nose for it.”

“
So we should get started right away?”

“
Yes. Would you like me to get it set up?”

“
Please. And one other thing.” Domini
hesitated. “Can you call me with updates? And send your bills
to me at the restaurant?”

“
Not to your home address?”

“
No.”

Ginger was quiet a minute and then she sighed. “You're
keeping Cam out of this?”

“
For now. He's already done so much and this
isn't something he needs to think about until we are actually
closer to the adoption process, is it?”

“
No. You are the client and I can set it up
however you want, but I strongly recommend you include Cam in every
step.”

“
Why?”

“
Because he's your husband. Because he will
be Anton's adoptive father. Because keeping secrets is never a
good thing, Domini.”

How well Domini knew that. “I appreciate the
advice, Ginger. Keep me updated.”

 

 

 

 

Week Four…

Cam dragged ass. Talk about a colossally shitty day. He
wanted to tear off his uniform, ditch his prosthesis, stand under a
scalding shower, drink an icy cold beer and fuck his wife for an
hour.

In that exact order.

He opened the door and chaos whacked him in the face.

His house—his haven—was utterly trashed.
Blankets and sheets were draped across every surface. Hell, he
couldn't even see his furniture. The stereo blasted some
classical crap with a billion weeping violins. Neither Domini nor
Anton were in sight. His blood boiled when he noticed the small
bronze statue his brother Carter had sculpted tipped on its side on
the floor.

“
Domini?” he shouted over the music, picking
up the statue.

Her head popped up from beneath a yellow sheet. “Hey!
Hang on.” She disappeared beneath the blankets. The music
stopped. She reappeared holding the stereo remote. “How come
you're home so late?”

Cam clenched his teeth at her accusation. “I was
busy.”

“
Anyway, Anton and I were just playing—”

“
Pigs in a blanket?”

“
No. That's food, not a game…”
Domini frowned. “Not nice, Cam.”

I'm not feeling very nice.

“
What's the matter?”

“
I'm tired, I've had a shit day, and I
just want to get out of these clothes and have some peace and quiet.”

“
You're at the wrong place for that.”

She'd meant it to be funny, but it struck a sour
chord in him.

“
Are you hungry? I saved a plate for you in the
kitchen.”

He scowled. “How am I supposed to get to the
kitchen? I can't even get across the damn living room.”
Of my own damn house,
he silently tacked on. Be just his luck if he tried to ford his way
through the maze only to land in a big heap on the floor. Perfect
capper to his awesome day.

Domini kept her tone cool. “Anton? Playtime is
over. We need to get this stuff picked up. Now.”

Due to static from the blankets, Anton's hair
stuck up every which way. “Aw, do we have to? It took forever
to set up.”

“
I know, sweetling. We should've asked Cam
first before we created such a mess in his house.”

His house
. That barb crossed
the room, sharp as an arrow, and hit him dead center. “For
Christsake, Domini, that's not fair and you know that's
not what I meant.”

She scalded him with an “Oh really?” look
and vanished beneath the blankets.

Fucking fantastic.

He exited through the front door, grumbling as he
trekked to the backside of the house and scaled the rear deck steps.
He paused at the sliding glass door to rub the section of skin where
the sock was chafing his stump. He couldn't wait to get the
goddamn thing off. He snagged two beers from the fridge, ignoring the
piles of dishes stacked everywhere and headed down the hallway, which
was blessedly free of blankets. And dishes. And people.

Cam shucked his clothes, removed his leg and used his
crutches to propel himself to the bathroom. He froze in the doorway.

Whoa. Looked like a Revlon factory exploded in here.
Lotion, powders and creams were strewn across the countertop. Did
Domini really need all that crap? And would it have killed her to put
it away when she was done with it? Especially when it seemed she
stashed his shaving stuff in a completely new drawer every damn time
he turned around?

He ground his teeth. He was not a neat freak, not any
more than any other guy who'd spent a dozen years in the army.
But he hated shit piled everywhere. He'd learned the hard way
not to leave wet towels, empty soda bottles and magazines scattered
around after he'd tripped and fallen on his ass a few times.

A shower didn't calm him.

He slipped on a pair of frayed sweat pant shorts and
cast a look of loathing at his prosthesis. No way was he putting it
back on tonight. No fucking way.

Now what? He was in a pissy mood. He wanted to be alone.
The living room wasn't an option, neither was the kitchen. With
no other recourse, he flopped on the bed.

Cam reached for his beer on the nightstand. His knuckle
clipped the edge of the fan attached to the headboard, nearly
knocking it off. That'd be great, if he'd have to crawl
underneath the bed on one goddamn knee to plug in Domini's
pacifier.

Okay, maybe it was mean to call it that, but Domini
couldn't sleep without the damn thing on. The white noise from
an oscillating fan calmed her. Which wouldn't have bothered
him, except she had to have the air blowing directly on her. Which
meant it blew on him. All night. He'd woken up freezing on more
than one occasion.

When he'd tried to joke, “Luke. I am your
father,” into the fan in his best Darth Vader imitation, Domini
hadn't laughed. Maybe their senses of humor didn't mesh.

Maybe nothing about this situation meshed.

Cam expected adjustments. He expected changes. He
thought he'd done fairly well, considering the double whammy of
a taking on a wife and a young kid all at once.

Honestly, his relationship with Domini wasn't
causing friction. When they were locked in their bedroom, locked body
to body, everything was perfect.

But that's not realistic. Your lives can't
revolve around the few hours you spend in bed.

Yeah? Her life shouldn't revolve around Anton,
either.

Talk about a stalemate.

He finished the first beer. Maybe he should've
crashed in Anton's room. At least he could've watched TV.
That was just another thing he and Domini disagreed on. Cam didn't
think the kid needed a damn TV in his room. Domini claimed Anton
needed his own space, his own things, and not a bunch more drastic
changes in his life right away.

So Cam had given in. Sucked up his resentment. How did
people do this parenting shit without going bonkers?

Most parents started out with a baby, not a surly
seven-year-old. Maybe things would be different when he and Domini
started having kids of their own. Right. If she stuck around that
long. She'd already been making contingency plans to adopt
Anton on her own and that sucked ass.

Just by happenstance, Cam discovered Domini had hired
Ginger to start Anton's preliminary adoption process paperwork.
He'd been waiting in her office and noticed the bill on
Domini's desk. He hadn't brought it up with her because
he hadn't known what to say. And part of him wanted Domini to
explain, of her own volition, not because he forced the issue. Might
be a long damn wait.

Cam sighed and closed his eyes. Allowing himself to
drift off. Just for a minute.

The sound of approaching helicopters echoed in the
distance. Extraction was here. His two young charges, still green as
far as live fire ops went, popped up out of their hiding places. He
motioned for them to stay put. But the lead guy misread the hand
signal and started across the open field. Keeping low, like he'd
been trained, yet Cam was horrified. The kid wasn't supposed to
cross an open field. Ever. Too much shit could go wrong.

Frantically, he made the “stay” signal
again. Which the rear guy also misread and he followed his buddy
through the exposed field.

Cam wanted to shout and drag those dumb little
fuckers out of danger by their ears. But he could only watch
helplessly, concealed in his own hiding place, sweating pure fear,
praying they got lucky and cleared the field without incident.

The landmine shook the ground and took out the first
guy. The second guy ran pell-mell through the smoke and dust,
screeching for his partner and setting off another landmine.