Shoulda Been a Cowboy (Rough Riders #7)(93)

Everyone stopped. All eyes zoomed to him and Anton. Anton half-ducked behind him. Damn. He knew just how the kid felt.


“Of course we do!” Carolyn said. She walked over with Miles cocked on her hip. “There’s the rope. Help yourselves.”


While they readied for the race, the crowd grew. His sisters-in-law, assorted cousins, aunts and uncles stood on the sidelines. But there was only one face he searched for: Domini’s.


When she smiled, her eyes shone, her face lit up as her gaze flicked back and forth between him and Anton. She gave them both a thumbs-up.


Once his and Anton’s legs were tied together, they took a couple practice steps. Shit. That hurt. He clamped his teeth together and rode out the pain. He’d done it before. For months. And months. He could do it for five more minutes. He forced a smile. “Ready?”


“Yep. Are you?”


Hell no. “Yep.” He wrapped his arm around Anton’s shoulders; Anton brought his arm around Cam’s waist.


Keely made a big production of starting the race with a long green scarf. “On your marks. Get set. Go!”


Cheers erupted and the race was on.


Cord and Ky took the early lead. Cam kept his head down and focused exclusively on his footing and the terrain beneath his feet. Heel first, step kept repeating in his head. Heel first, step. Heel first, step.


Cam and Anton built up a good rhythm. They weren’t winning, and Cam was in pain, but Anton seemed to be getting a huge kick out of it and that’s what mattered.


Then two things happened simultaneously. Parker and Braxton veered off course, directly into their path. While Cam attempted to avoid mowing over the little boys, he wasn’t watching his footing and the toe of his prosthetic foot caught in a gopher hole.


Panic and inevitability seized his lungs. If he landed on his nephews, he’d crush their bodies. Ditto if he hit Anton with his full weight. So he took the logical course of action and jerked to his left so he crashed on his hip and prosthetic leg.


The familiar agonizing pain assaulted him. Too much sweat caused the rubber sleeve covering his stump to loosen and slide down. The vacuum suction popped and gave way. Then his prosthetic was flopping around inside his pant leg. He was completely helpless.


Fuck.


It seemed dozens of hands touched him at once. Dozens of voices spoke to him. Cam gritted his teeth and kept his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see the looks of pity and concern from his family. He wanted everyone to leave him the f*ck alone.


“Cam?”


Her soft voice cut through the chatter, but he still flinched at the idea of his wife seeing him lying in a big goddamn pile in the middle of the f*cking yard.


“I’m here. Look at me. Just me.”


He squinted at her even though her face was only inches away.


“How bad is it?” she asked.


Hurts like a motherf*cking son of a bitch. “Bad enough. It detached.”


“Okay.” She moved back and quickly unzipped the section of his pants that turned them from pants into shorts.


“Let me see.” Keely bulled her way in beside Domini and dropped to her knees.


“That’s not—”


“Did you bring your crutches?” Keely demanded.


No. He’d forgotten them.


“Of course you didn’t. First we need to get it completely off.”


“I know. That’s what I’m doing,” Domini said.


“Has it been coming loose a lot lately? You need to trot your stubborn self to the VA and have it refitted. Bodies change. I think—”


“I think I’ve got this, Keely, thanks,” Domini said tightly.


“But do you know—”


“Yes, I know what my husband needs, so I suggest you back off so I can give it to him. Now.”


Silence.


Keely’s hands went up defensively.


Cam was stunned when Domini took it a step further. She addressed his family. “Thanks for your concern. We’d appreciate it if you all gave Cam space right now.”


Everyone backed off. Including Keely.


Despite the stitch in his thigh, he shifted toward Anton, sitting cross-legged beside him. Tear tracks streaked his dirty face. Alarmed, Cam said, “Anton? Did you get hurt?”


Anton shook his head.


“Then why are you crying, sport?”


He whispered, “Because I’m sorry.”


“For what?”


“For making you do the race. You knew this would happen, huh?”


Cam wanted to toss off something clever, but he hurt too f*cking bad to try. He hated the throbbing pain in the aftermath of a fall. Guaranteed his stump would be bruised and it’d be damn painful to walk for the next week.


“Did you get hurt?” Anton asked in a small voice.


“Nah.” He reached over and brushed dirt off Anton’s knee. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, okay?”


“Okay.”


“I wish I could send you for my crutches like last time. That was a big help.”