Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Mitch was fixing to lose his mind.
Miz Halley and her second-oldest daughter Leanne were over here cleaning. Then Cam’s brothers’ wives —Lori and Lizzie—had brought their eleven children with them to play with his girls.
Rachel, of course, was absolutely over the moon. Eleven new children to play with, and make friends with, and love on.
Bekka was making friends with Lizzie’s two oldest because, of course, the woman had to have two sets of twins and a set of triplets. Given that Bekka was galloping toward her twelfth birthday in December, that worked out.
He had no idea where his middle child was. Probably hiding in a barn. Or up at the very top of the house in her alcove. He didn’t know.
“Don’t you worry about a thing, Mitch. You just sit there and relax.” Miz Halley patted his hand, smiled, and he wanted to scream.
“Yes, ma’am.” He was going to go crazy if he had to sit here and relax for one more second with all these women in his house.
At least the two older sisters weren’t here, although he thought he’d quite like Diana. She lived in Denver and worked with her wife—something to do with computers.
He had to wonder where the hell Cam was, why he wasn’t here dealing with his family.
Leanne smiled at him, baby in a sling over her chest. “I appreciate you letting everyone come over. This last bit of summer, and everybody’s always bored. A new ranch is at least new, right?”
“Uh, sure.” Rachel raced by with a little boy who had a snotty nose, but all boys did, so he let it go. “Hey, where’s Cam?”
Leanne chuckled. “I think he got wind we were coming. He’s running errands. He had to go to the UPS store in Alamosa to get his new uniform shirt, and then he was going to drop it off at the dry cleaners, and he wanted to look at a mare…”
“For what? Fire is only a five-year-old gelding, right?” That was damn young in terms of a rodeo horse, at least a roping one.
“He wants to get into hazing and roping horses at some point. Can’t breed up a gelding,” she pointed out.
Surprised, Mitch stared at her. “So, wait, he talks about after the rodeo?”
Miz Halley came back by carrying a trash can. “Of course he does, honey. Rodeo is a young man’s game.”
Leanne nodded. “Even for a roper, he’s going to have to find something to do with the rest of his life.”
Well Mitch sure didn’t see him coming to town and becoming a roofer, that was for sure.
“You mind holding my little one for me?” Leanne handed him the baby without even waiting for his answer, which was fine with him. He knew about babies. That was something he was good at. “You think you’re going to go back to roofing after you’re all healed up?”
“What else would I do? It’s what I’m known for.” He was good at it, and he didn’t mind the job. He would rather run a crew than work it, of course. But he liked being outside.
He liked the challenge, especially on some of these newer custom homes with all the different angles and levels. Every so often, there could be a real art to it, making the house look pretty. The thing was you couldn’t have a safe house without a good roof.
“You ought to talk to Wilder at some point. You know he’s a contractor. He’s always looking for roofers. Somebody to bid jobs. He’s got a whole thing. He’s doing a big load of custom homes.”
Her husband was a good guy. He had met him a number of times around town, as you do. Mitch had never heard a single person say something bad about the man, which given that he was a contractor, was saying a ton.
“Thanks. I mean, I’ll let my boss know.” Jorge would love the intel.
She shook her head at him. “No, that’s not what I mean. I mean you should talk to him about maybe doing a job for him on your own. You know, if you started small, you could do it, build up a solid business.”
They were trying to save him. And it was sweet, even if it was embarrassing.
But he wasn’t going to turn down that kind of an offer just out of hand. So he smiled at her and nodded. “As soon as I’m back on my feet, I’ll talk to him. If we can start with something small, and I can bid it out to him, then we’ll do it.”
“Good deal. He would help you with the payouts to begin with, but you don’t even have to order the supplies until they pay you half up-front.”
Sounded like Leanne must do the books for her husband. He chuckled, “Sure, I don’t reckon Jorge would kill me for being competition.”
“Well, Jorge could use some competition. I’m not saying he’s not a good guy, or that he’s not a good roofer, but when he’s got such a stranglehold on the market, he can raise prices on people.
So, it would be nice if there was a way to get some healthy market pricing.
” She gave him a broad wink and left him sitting there with the little girl.
He thought it was a little girl. She wasn’t wearing a giant bow on her head, but in general, she looked like a baby girl.
Her ears were pierced, for one thing. While boys got their ears pierced, they didn’t usually do them at birth, like they did girls.
He snorted at himself. He’d probably get in big trouble for thinking something as sexist as that if Allison was still standing right there next to him.
He tried real hard not to lay that on his girls, but the first inclination was always the one someone was raised with, right?
The second one was the one that proved a guy was a good person.
He grinned down at the tiny drooler, who was chewing on her fist and staring up at him. “I know, baby girl. It’s a lot, huh?”
She squealed and whacked him in the nose with her wet hand. Lord, he’d forgotten how that felt.
Miz Halley went by again, handing him a Tupperware container of Cheerios. “For one of any of the littles that wander by. I’ll be by with a bottle in a second.”
“Yes, ma’am.” It was like being in the middle of a tornado or a hurricane.
Maybe not a blizzard.
He knew all about those. It wasn’t a thing, being in the middle of a blizzard — those were either in or out—but totally like a tornado.
People were cleaning and singing, and kids were running and there was laughing. He was fairly sure even Bekka was laughing, which didn’t happen very often. Sarah and Bekka were both playing with other kids, and he thought he might live.
Which he should never think, because naturally, that was when all the weird shit happened. But this? This was okay.
It just needed Cam.
And where the absolute fuck had that come from?
Cam was here on a favor from his mother, not because of anything else.
He had to be honest with himself, if not with anybody else. He was a broke-dick roofer without savings or a future.
And Cam was a dude with petty cash. Not wealthy. Not like rich, but way better than middle class.
Middle class was so far out of his reach, Mitch was never going to get that, even if he stretched. So he needed to get his shit together and remember that Cam was here because of a favor.
He was here to be kind. Do his Christian duty.
Okay, that thought made him cackle because shit. Cam? Christian duty?
That didn’t seem to go.
He got a bottle and started feeding the baby, whose name he still didn’t know.
Rachel came and stared at him for a second and the baby in his lap. “Who’s that?”
“Miss Leanne’s baby. Isn’t she pretty?”
She pursed her lips. “Was I that pretty when I was a baby?” She sounded like she was giving him a test. It was very important that he get this right.
“You were beautiful when you were a baby, so little, so tiny but perfect. Do you know who the first person to ever hold you besides me was?”
“The doctor. Sarah told me.”
“Actually, it was your sister, Bekka, after the doctors and nurses cleaned you up. She was the first family person besides me to ever hold you.” God, Sarah was an asshole. He adored her.
“And my momma didn’t hold me because she was dead.”
He nodded. He never lied about it. What good would it do? Bekka and Sarah remembered. “Yes. She died when she was pregnant with you. So they had to get you early so that you didn’t go too.”
Her head tilted, and she kind of stared. “Shouldn’t I have stayed with my mom though? We could have been in Heaven together. We could have been ghosts together. I mean, if you’d let me stay with her.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know that I could have made it if I didn’t have my little girl. I need my baby girl.” Also, he was going to kick Sarah Jane’s ass up one side and down the other. “Honey, can you get me your sister?”
“Which one?”
The little gothy one who’s about to get grounded for a week for trying to tell her sister that she should have died rather than be delivered by emergency cesarean. “Sarah, please.”
“Okay, Daddy.” She turned around, ran off, yelling, “Sarah, Sarah, Daddy wants you!”
He stared down at the baby, who was lustily sucking on the bottle. “Don’t ever start talking.”
Sarah strolled in a few minutes later, book under her arm. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey. Sit.”
“Whatever anybody said I did, I’m sure I didn’t do it, and if I did do it, I’m sorry.”
“Sarah, I—”
“Okay, I can be sorry even if I didn’t do it. Whatever. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it.”
Poor, poor, put-upon little gothy girl. He shook his head. “Sarah, breathe.”
“Okay.” She sucked in a deep breath, blew it out dramatically, and then did it again. “What did I do?”
“Actually, I asked you to come in because I need a favor.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Okay, what?”
“Could you ease up on your sister, the little one, about the ghosts, please? You’re worrying her.”
Her eyes twinkled a bit, and an evil grin spread across her face. “Am I?”
“You am. And if you don’t stop, you am going to be in big trouble.”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t tell her anything about ghosts. We were all just talking about when Momma died and how if she’d not gotten Rachel out of her belly, then she would have died too. Then they would have both been ghosts.”
“That’s talking about ghosts, and that’s what I need you to stop. Your mother is not a ghost; your mother is in Heaven.”