Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish (Harlequin American Romance)

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Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish (Harlequin American Romance) Page 4

by Mcdavid, Cathy


  It was like stepping back in time.

  The rich, familiar scents of horses and alfalfa filled her nostrils the moment she crossed the threshold. Daylight, pouring in from the large doorways on both ends of the long aisle, illuminated the interior better than any electric-powered lights could. Soft earth gave beneath her feet with each step she took. A barn cat dashed behind a barrel, then stuck its head out to peer warily at her.

  Caitlin glanced around, her breath catching at the sight of Ethan not thirty feet away. He was bent over at the waist, the horse’s rear hoof braced between his knees as he used a file to trim it.

  How did he do that with a prosthetic leg?

  How did he do that with a bad shoulder?

  Fine, he was resilient. She appreciated that quality in an individual. Admired it. But shoeing a horse while injured was just plain stupid. So was bronc riding.

  She started to say something, only to close her mouth when Ethan released the horse’s hoof and straightened.

  He stood tall, his blue work shirt rolled up at the sleeves and stretched taut across his muscled back. The leather chaps he wore sat low on his hips, emphasizing his athletic frame. She couldn’t remember him ever looking better. Or sexier.

  When they were in high school, Caitlin had liked him best in his football uniform. Next best in the tux he’d worn to their senior prom. She’d been the envy of every girl on the cheerleading squad, and had relished the attention.

  What an idiot she’d been. Shallow and silly—placing too much importance on things that didn’t matter.

  Ethan turned, and she wished suddenly she was wearing nice clothes. Not an oversize hooded sweatshirt and scrubs.

  “You made it.”

  “I did.”

  He set the file he’d been using down on a box of tools. Next, he removed his chaps and draped them over the box. “Ready to take a look at the wagon?”

  “Is that Chico?” Caitlin advanced a step, then two. “Can I pet him?”

  “Of course.”

  “I remember him. I can’t believe he’s still around.” She stroked the old horse’s soft nose, and he snorted contentedly.

  “That’s right. You and Chico are already acquainted.”

  Caitlin was never much of a horse enthusiast, though she’d tried her best to share that interest with Ethan. When they did go on a ride, Chico was her mount of choice.

  “He’s Isa’s horse now.”

  “Isa?”

  “Sage’s daughter. Gavin’s soon-to-be stepdaughter. She’s six and in love with this old guy.”

  “I’m glad.” Glad the horse Caitlin remembered with such fondness was adored by a little girl and that some things around Powell Ranch hadn’t changed.

  “Do you still ride?”

  “No, not since Chico.” She didn’t want to admit to Ethan how much riding—or any physical activity that held risk—scared her. She hadn’t been like that before Justin’s accident. Quite the opposite.

  “I’ll take you sometime.” Ethan moved closer.

  Caitlin’s guard instantly went up. She continued stroking Chico’s nose in an attempt to disguise her nervousness—at Ethan’s proximity and the prospect of getting on a horse again. “We should probably take a look at the wagon. I have to get to the clinic soon.”

  They left the stables. Chico, Ethan assured Caitlin, would be just fine tied to the hitching rail, and was probably already napping.

  As they rounded the corner of the cattle barn, she noticed lumber stacked nearby, along with a table saw, ladder and toolboxes.

  “What are you building?”

  “We’re converting the old barn into a mare motel for the stud and breeding business. Clay and his men are helping us.”

  Ethan took her elbow and guided her around more piles of construction material. She started to object and insist she was fine, then changed her mind. Like the other night when he’d insisted on unloading her medical supplies, it would be like arguing with a brick wall.

  He led her to a corner of the barn where, behind a tower of wooden crates and beneath a canvas tarp, the wagon stood.

  “Not sure we can get much closer,” he said, stepping over a roll of rusted chicken wire.

  Caitlin squeezed in behind him, acutely aware of his tall, broad frame mere inches from her.

  He leaned over and lifted the tarp, revealing a wagon wheel. Without thinking, she reached out and touched the worn wood.

  A memory of Ethan driving her around the ranch in the wagon suddenly surfaced, of her bouncing in the seat beside him and both of them laughing. How carefree they’d been back then.

  She suddenly missed those days with a longing she hadn’t felt in years.

  Stop it!

  Dwelling on that period of her life would do more damage than good. She and Ethan might have renewed their acquaintance, but that was all it was, an acquaintance. All it could be. Even if she finally got past the hurt he’d caused her, he rode saddle broncs for pleasure and broke green horses for a living. Caitlin wasn’t capable of caring for someone who courted danger on a daily basis. Not after what had happened to her brother. She couldn’t live with the constant worry and fear.

  “Going to need a few repairs.” Ethan wiggled a loose spoke.

  Caitlin was relieved to get back on track. “And lots of cleaning.”

  “Hope you have enough volunteers.”

  She studied the wagon with a critical eye. “I might need more.”

  “I’ve been thinking. Would it be all right if we asked for a small donation? Completely voluntary, of course. Sage, my future sister-in-law, is starting a wild-mustang sanctuary here on the ranch, and she’s having trouble obtaining funding.”

  “What a good idea. I can’t imagine the festival committee having any objections.”

  “That’ll make her happy.”

  Caitlin brushed dirt off the wheel. “When can we get started?”

  “Saturday soon enough?”

  “We’ll have to be here early. I’m due at Clay’s arena after lunch.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You’re not riding!”

  “Planning on it.”

  “Your shoulder!”

  “I can’t afford to miss any practices.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous to ride with an injury? I’d think your reaction time would be slowed.”

  “I’ll wrap it.”

  As if that would fix everything. His attitude was exactly the reason they would never date again, no matter how attractive she found him. Riding broncs was bad enough. Riding broncs with an injury was idiotic.

  “I’ll have a couple of the guys help me pull the wagon out,” he said.

  “I recommend you supervise a couple of the guys.” She leveled a finger at him. “If you’re going to ride on Saturday, you need to rest that shoulder and let it heal.”

  “Right.”

  He was impossible.

  “I need to get going.” She stepped over the roll of rusted chicken wire. “I don’t want to leave Justin alone too long.”

  “You brought him with you?”

  “He doesn’t have class on Fridays and sometimes comes by for a visit.”

  “Justin drives?”

  “A Honda Civic. Modified, of course.”

  “And he lives with your parents?”

  “No, he has an apartment near campus with a roommate.”

  “Not that it’s any of my business,” Ethan said, “but if the kid lives on his own and drives, don’t you think he’ll be okay alone for a few minutes?”

  She sighed with exasperation…at herself. “I can’t help worrying about him. Call it big-sister-itis.”

  “His accident wasn’t your fault.”

  Caitlin went still, swallowed a gasp. No one other than Justin and her parents knew of her guilt and the reason for it.

  How in the world had Ethan guessed?

  Stupid question. He’d always been able to read her better than anyone.

  She averted her face, hiding
the sudden storm of emotions churning inside her. Him, this place, the memories of happier times—it was all too much.

  Ethan took her elbow again, helping her navigate the narrow path through the construction material. His fingers were warm and strong and far too familiar. Any hope Caitlin had for control flew out the window.

  “You weren’t at the river that day,” he said, his voice gentle with understanding. “You couldn’t possibly have been involved.”

  His compassion and sympathy were her undoing.

  “I encouraged him to go,” she admitted, her throat burning. “If he had stayed home, he wouldn’t have landed on that rock and damaged his spinal cord.”

  “Come on. Name one senior at our school who didn’t tube down the river and jump from the cliffs the week after graduation. It was a rite of passage.”

  “Justin didn’t normally disobey our parents.” As she had, she thought. “I told him he was eighteen and it was time he stopped acting like such a geek. I drove him to his friend’s house, then lied to our folks about where he was going.”

  “Teenagers disobey their parents. It’s what they do.”

  “Being popular was so important to me in high school. Justin was such a nerd back then. Shy and scrawny and brainy. He was practically invisible. I thought if he went tubing, he’d break out of his shell. Because of me, his life is ruined.”

  They came to a stop at the entrance to the barn. Ethan released her elbow, only to drape an arm around her shoulders.

  “Trust me, you weren’t the only one pressuring him to go tubing. His buddies were, too.”

  It would have been nice to lay her head on Ethan’s chest as she’d done so often in the past, and let him comfort her.

  She might have, if she wasn’t convinced she’d be sending him the wrong message.

  Wiping her eyes, she tried to ease away from his embrace.

  He’d have none of it.

  “When someone’s seriously injured, like Justin, it’s pretty common for family members and friends to blame themselves. My dad and brother were the same way. Kept thinking if they’d been there for me when Mom was sick, and after she died, I wouldn’t have enlisted and been caught in that explosion. Eventually, they came to accept it was my decision to join the marines, and rotten luck I was standing where I was that day. Same with Justin.”

  Caitlin looked up at Ethan. “You don’t think I was there for you when your mom died?”

  At the time, she’d been so embroiled in her own misery over his abrupt departure, she hadn’t considered the reason he left was because of her. How incredibly selfish.

  “What? Of course not. I was the one unable to cope with my grief, so was pushing people away.” He inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry, Caitlin. For abandoning you like that.”

  “I appreciate the apology.”

  “I know it’s not enough to make up for what I did to you.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  He drew back at her brutal, but honest, admission.

  “You’re not the only one who had to deal with traumatic events,” she said. “I did, too. And believe me, there were plenty of times after Justin’s accident when I wanted to run away and leave everything behind. But I didn’t. I stayed and dealt with my responsibilities regardless of how difficult it was. I just wish you had loved me enough to do the same.”

  CAITLIN’S REMARK HIT ETHAN like a blow. How could she think he hadn’t loved her enough? The whole reason he’d left was because he had loved her too much. She deserved more than a man who was emotionally devastated, out of work and whose family was financially ruined, thanks to one man’s insatiable greed.

  Before he could explain, Justin came wheeling toward them. Ethan was pleased to see the young man, even if his timing stank.

  “Hey, there you are.” He pushed his wheelchair forward, meeting up with Ethan and Caitlin outside the cattle barn. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good.” Ethan shook his hand, which was sheathed in a worn leather glove with cutouts for his fingers.

  “I was just talking to Gavin. He filled me in on all the changes round here.”

  “Lots of them. Some good, some bad.”

  “You miss the old days?”

  No one had ever asked Ethan that. He took a moment to consider before answering. “I do sometimes. I miss the people, especially. My mom and sister.” He glanced briefly at Caitlin. If she was aware of his unspoken inclusion of her, she didn’t show it. “But all things considered, I can’t complain.”

  “Me, either,” Justin said, without the slightest trace of bitterness.

  Ethan’s respect for him grew by leaps and bounds. If Justin felt self-pity at losing the use of his legs, he certainly didn’t wallow in it.

  “You in a hurry to leave?” Justin maneuvered his wheelchair so that he faced Caitlin. “I was hoping Ethan could show us the mustang.”

  “I can’t be late for work.”

  Justin checked his watch. “I thought you didn’t have to be at the clinic until two.”

  “I like to arrive a little early.”

  She sounded eager to go.

  Ethan wanted the chance to explain his real reason for enlisting and leaving her, and was determined to find the opportunity. “It won’t take long. Prince’s stall is just behind the barn.”

  Justin started wheeling in that direction. Ethan followed, as did Caitlin, her gait stiff and her steps slow.

  If she so obviously didn’t want to be with him, why had she come along?

  “I have to warn you,” he told Justin, “the way there’s bumpy.”

  “Can’t be any worse than hiking Squaw Peak.”

  “You’ve done that?”

  “Five times. Four of them in my chair.” Justin beamed, his geeky smile reminding Ethan of the undersize, asthmatic kid he’d known when he and Caitlin were dating.

  The smile, however, was the only thing about him that was the same. Justin had acquired some serious muscle on his upper body.

  “Why do you keep him so far from the other horses?” he asked, guiding his wheelchair down the rocky slope to Prince’s pen like a pro.

  “He’s too wild and unpredictable.” Ethan kept his eyes trained on the ground, watching out for potholes and rocks. What would cause another person to merely stumble could send him sprawling. “And being near the mares tends to…excite him, shall we say. Better he’s off by himself.”

  Where to house Prince had been an issue when they’d captured him last month. Clay solved the problem by erecting a temporary covered pen near the back pasture.

  “I’ve been wanting to see Prince ever since I watched your brother on the news.”

  Ethan chuckled. “You caught that, huh?”

  “Are you kidding? He was all over the TV.”

  The media had gotten wind of Prince’s capture; a horse living wild in a ninety-thousand-acre urban preserve was big news. Several local stations had dispatched reporters to interview Gavin. The attention had resulted in a slew of new customers, giving the Powells’ dire finances a much-needed boost.

  “Watch yourself,” Ethan cautioned as they drew near. “Prince is wary of strangers. He still doesn’t like me and Gavin that much.”

  Justin showed no fear and wheeled close. Caitlin reached for his wheelchair as if she wanted to pull him back. After a second, she let her hand drop, though it remained clenched in a fist.

  Was it only Justin’s fall that had made her overprotective?

  As they watched Prince, the stallion raised his head and stared at them. Then, tossing his jet-black mane, he trotted from one end of the pen to the other, commanding their attention.

  And he got it. Ethan couldn’t wait to see the colts this magnificent horse produced.

  “He’s bigger than he looked on TV.”

  Ethan kept a careful eye on Justin, ready to run interference if he ventured too close to the pen. Caitlin, on the other hand, seemed content to observe from a safe distance.

  “Have you ridden him yet?�
� It was the first she’d spoken since Justin joined them outside the barn.

  “No. He’s only halter broke, and barely that.”

  “But you are going to break him?” Justin asked.

  “Oh, yeah. My goal is by Christmas.”

  “That doesn’t give you much time.”

  “You’re right. He and I are going to have to come to a new agreement soon about who’s boss.”

  Prince pawed the ground impatiently, as if daring Ethan to try.

  Justin grinned sheepishly. “Don’t suppose there’s a horse in that stable of yours I could ride.”

  “Anytime you want, buddy.” Ethan immediately thought of old Chico. If he was trustworthy enough for a six-year-old, he’d do fine for Justin. “Give me a call. I’ll take you on a trail ride.”

  Beside him, Caitlin visibly stiffened. “Justin, are you sure about that? You’ve never had an interest in riding horses before.”

  “I never played sports before, either.” He slapped the arm of his wheelchair. “Turns out I’m pretty good.”

  “What do you like?” Ethan asked.

  “Basketball. Baseball. Swimming. I’m considering taking up track and field.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Well, I couldn’t do any of it without Caitlin’s help. She’s amazing.”

  Did Caitlin pay for her brother’s athletic expenses? Ethan wondered. That would explain the three jobs and why she worked fifty to sixty hours a week.

  “You’ll do fine at riding, then,” he assured him.

  Caitlin removed her cell phone from her sweatshirt pocket and checked the display. “It’s getting late.”

  After a last look at Prince, the three of them returned to the stables, Justin chatting enthusiastically about riding and Caitlin stubbornly silent.

  When they reached her minivan, Justin hoisted himself into the front passenger seat.

  “I’ll get that,” Ethan offered, and carried the wheelchair to the rear of the minivan, where Caitlin had the hatch open.

  She closed it the second he’d stowed the chair. “See you Saturday.”

  “What about physical therapy?” If he was keeping his end of the bargain, she needed to keep hers. “I’d like to start right away.”

  “I don’t get off at the clinic until seven-thirty most nights.”

 

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