Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish (Harlequin American Romance)

by Mcdavid, Cathy

  Runaway! Why had he mentioned that? “How reliable is that brake?”

  She immediately imagined the horses galloping hell-bent for election through the park like in those old black-and-white Westerns she used to watch as a kid.

  As it turned out, she’d panicked for nothing. The horses, under Ethan’s careful guidance, traveled along at a sedate walk. After several minutes, Caitlin started breathing again. Before long, she relaxed enough to appreciate the advantages her elevated position offered. She had a clear view of the workers erecting the miniature Santa’s workshop and the obedience trials under way in the dog park across the expansive green. In the far distance, Pinnacle Peak, with its distinctive silhouette, reached skyward as if to capture the sun.

  “How beautiful.”

  Ethan smiled, and they drove for a while in companionable silence.

  Eventually, Caitlin pulled a map of the park from her pocket. “I figured we’d have the wagon pickup and drop-off station near the picnic area, next to the Santa’s workshop.”

  He grunted approvingly.

  “We could set up a table here—” she tapped the map “—and take donations for the mustang sanctuary. Pass out literature if you have any.”

  He grunted again.

  “Do you think Cassie would be willing to dress in an elf costume and be one of Santa’s helpers?”

  “Probably.”

  When he said no more, Caitlin continued examining the map and the routes she’d sketched out. “What do you think about this one?” She angled the map for him to see.

  He grumbled instead of grunting.

  Fine. He was keeping conversation to a minimum. That suited her, as well. Folding the map, she returned it to her pocket, sat back and kept quiet.

  For two full minutes.

  “Did I do something to upset you?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I’m sorry about refusing your dinner invitation last Saturday. I figured it was better if we—”

  “You’re not going to give me the let’s-be-friends speech, are you?”

  Her cheeks burned. That was exactly what she’d been planning. “No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Because I won’t be friends with you.”

  That stung.

  “I want more.”

  “More?” Her voice sounded small.

  “Much more.”

  Oh, dear.

  “Look at me, Caitlin.”

  She did, tensing as his smoldering gaze raked over her.

  “Don’t expect me to make small talk with you when what I really want is to make love.”

  “I’M SORRY.” CAITLIN SUCKED in air, then released it in a shuddering breath.

  “Don’t be. I’m not propositioning you, simply stating a fact.”

  She and Ethan were no strangers to intimacy. They had been each other’s firsts, consummating their love shortly after high school graduation. The night had been one of the scariest of her life, and the most memorable. Scary for Ethan, too. Revealing his true feelings had endeared him to her and broken down the last of her defenses. When she gave herself to him, it was without reservation and without regrets.

  Magic had happened that night and for many nights afterward. Making love with Ethan had been extraordinary. Fulfilling, satisfying and fun. But physical pleasure—and there had been a lot of it—was never more important than their emotional connection, which only grew stronger the longer they were together.

  Yet another reason why his abrupt enlistment in the marines had devastated her. How could he have loved her so completely and so thoroughly and then abandoned her like that?

  The horses plodded along the side street circling the park, the sleigh bells chiming in rhythm to the cadence of their hooves.

  Seconds ticked by, then minutes.

  “Was there anybody after me?” Caitlin was shocked at her own audacity.

  Ethan answered without pause. “I dated some in the marines.”

  “No one special?”

  “No one I fell in love with.” He clucked to Molly and Dolly, who had stopped at the sight of an elderly couple walking a shaggy terrier.

  “What about since your discharge?”

  “Haven’t had the time.”

  Was that true? Or did the loss of his leg have something to do with it?

  Justin had been painfully shy around girls as a teenager, frequently becoming tongue-tied. After his accident, he’d refused to even be alone in the same room with someone of the opposite sex.

  Not anymore, Caitlin mused, remembering him and Tamiko together.

  When had Justin changed? And what had prompted it?

  “How about you?” Ethan’s sidelong glance gave nothing away. “Date much?”

  “Not hardly at all until after college. Caring for Justin took up most of my free time. And then there was homework and work-study programs. I met someone a few years ago.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  He wasn’t you. The thought came from nowhere and traveled straight to her chest, where it curled around her heart.

  Caitlin averted her head to hide the tears that sprang unbidden to her eyes.

  “We went out for about two years,” she said when she’d composed herself. “Then it just kind of fizzled. No big fight. No drama. We parted friends.”

  “Too bad.”

  What she didn’t tell Ethan was that her boyfriend had wanted to marry her, and had repeatedly proposed. Caitlin couldn’t bring herself to take the next step—because of Ethan or Justin or both, she really wasn’t sure. Eventually, her boyfriend grew tired of waiting. There’d been no one since, not even a casual date. Which also meant that Ethan’s kiss at the rodeo arena was her first one in years.

  “I thought maybe we’d have the wagon rides on Friday and Saturday nights only,” she said. “From six to nine.” The small talk sounded trite after such a personal conversation. “Is that too long? I don’t want to tire the horses.”

  “I’ll have two teams. One for each night.”

  “Will you take the other team out for a test run, too?”

  “Tomorrow. With the girls. Want to come along?” He studied her face intently.

  Were there tearstains on her cheeks? She instinctively touched them. Dry, thank goodness.

  “I, um, promised Mom I’d go Christmas shopping with her.”

  If she didn’t already have a legitimate excuse, she would have manufactured one. Her resistance to him was at an all-time low. It would be so easy to say she didn’t care about his bronc riding, scoot closer and rest her head on his shoulder.

  “You having Christmas Day at your place?” he asked.

  “Oh, gosh, no!”

  “Condo too small?”

  “That, and too empty.”

  “Still moving in?”

  “I’ve been waiting to see if I’m…” staying in Mustang Valley “…keeping the condo. I don’t have one Christmas decoration up or one card displayed. Mom and Dad are having dinner at their house. My aunt and uncle and cousin are driving up from Green Valley. Some friends from Dad’s work will also be there.”

  “You’ll have fun.”

  “Is Sierra coming home?”

  “She hasn’t committed one way or the other.” Ethan absently clucked to the horses. “I don’t know what’s with her lately. She’s cut herself off from the family almost completely. Dad’s pretty upset.”

  “Is it a man?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Getting involved in a relationship is one reason people ignore their families and friends.”

  “Why wouldn’t she tell us?”

  “Maybe she’s afraid you won’t approve of him.”

  Ethan stared at the road, his jaw working.

  “I’m not saying it’s a man. Could be anything.”

  “It makes sense, though.”

  Caitlin left Ethan to his thoughts, concentrating instead on her own. When they rounded the last bend on the route, the towering Christmas tree the
Holly Days committee had erected in the center of the park came into view. Caitlin felt a sentimental tug on her heartstrings. This was her favorite season.

  “If you could have just one wish for Christmas,” she asked, “what would it be?”

  Ethan didn’t immediately answer. She assumed he was thinking of Sierra and his bronc riding. Of his desire to compete professionally. His job training horses. Her, and his desire for them to get back together.

  “That was a silly question,” she blurted when the silence stretched. “You don’t have to answer it.”

  “What I’d want most of all is for things to go back the way they were. Before my mother got sick and we were still raising cattle.”

  Ten years ago she and Ethan had been planning a wedding in the not-too-distant future. Ten years ago, he had yet to enlist.

  “But that isn’t possible.” He shook the reins. If the horses were supposed to walk faster, they didn’t pay attention. “So, I guess I’d wish for the riding stables to do well and Gavin’s stud and breeding business to take off. He’s trying hard to preserve what little we have left in order to pass it down to his children.”

  A noble, selfless wish. “What about you, Ethan? What do you want?”

  He turned his head, the ghost of a smile lighting his lips. “For us, you and me, to be happy. And I don’t mean together, necessarily,” he added, as if anticipating her objection.

  No?

  Neither of them had been happy apart.

  “I’d like that, too,” she said softly, realizing it was her Christmas wish, as well.

  ETHAN WALKED THE PERIMETER of the last stall in the nearly completed mare motel. “Looking good.”

  “I agree.” Gavin nodded approvingly.

  The crew had finished hanging the twenty-four stall doors an hour earlier, shortly after Ethan returned home from his ride with Caitlin. While there was a long punch list needing completion, and minor modifications here and there, the mare motel was operational and ready for “guests.”

  “If I hadn’t seen it myself,” Clay said, his deep voice resonating with awe and admiration, “I wouldn’t have believed this was once a cattle barn.”

  Indeed, the transformation was nothing short of amazing. Ethan could hardly remember what the barn had looked like in “the old days,” as his niece was fond of saying—the remark accompanied by an eye roll.

  A wave of nostalgia overcame him, bringing with it memory after memory. He, Gavin and Conner had spent considerable time in this cattle barn while growing up. Working, not playing. Wayne Powell had been a taskmaster, requiring his sons to give one-hundred-and-ten percent. They hadn’t really appreciated his strict work ethic until they were adults.

  Clay had worked alongside them on occasion, when he wasn’t busy with his father’s cattle operation. Back then, the future had seemed both certain and endless. Gavin would take over the family business. Ethan would run it with him, after winning a world championship at the National Rodeo Finals. And Sierra would marry a local boy—Conner, possibly—and move to a house just down the road. The three siblings would produce a passel of rascally children to try their parents and entertain their grandparents.

  It hadn’t turned out that way. All things considered, their lives weren’t so bad.

  “Mom would be proud,” Ethan mused out loud as he, Gavin and Clay strode down the bright and airy aisle.

  “She would,” Gavin agreed.

  Clay smiled fondly. “When is Camelot Farms arriving with their mares?”

  The farm’s half-Arabian, half-quarter-horse animals would be the first to reside in the mare motel.

  “In the morning,” Gavin answered.

  “How many are they bringing?”

  “Just two.”

  Gavin hoped to keep all twenty-four stalls filled. Unfortunately, a stud and breeding business took months, if not years, to establish. Prince had proved himself capable of impregnating mares, as a recent veterinarian exam had confirmed. But it wasn’t enough. His foals had to be born healthy, inherit their sire’s best qualities, then grow into fine horses. Only then would customers beat down the Powells’ door.

  Patience was required, and Gavin’s was in short supply.

  Even now, as he stared at the cooling fans suspended from the barn ceiling, he seemed distracted. More than once Ethan or Clay had to repeat themselves because Gavin wasn’t listening.

  “Anything in the bunkhouse the men need to finish before I send them home?” Clay asked.

  “Nope.” Like the cattle barn, Ethan’s bunkhouse barely resembled its former incarnation. During the past two weeks, the workers had pushed hard. “They finished constructing the built-in bookcases yesterday.”

  “You buy an automatic coffeemaker yet?”

  “Very funny.” He had bought one, but he wasn’t about to tell Clay. The bunkhouse, now an apartment, suited him fine without making accommodations for anyone.

  Except for Caitlin.

  He’d be willing to change his bachelor ways, and pad, for her. Make concessions. Alter his habits. Compromise.

  He wasn’t willing to give up bronc riding and breaking green horses.

  Until then, there was no point even imagining sharing living quarters with her.

  “Gavin,” Clay said. “Gavin!”

  Ethan jerked. His brother wasn’t the only one who was distracted.

  “Yeah.” Gavin blinked as if orienting himself. “What?”

  “I asked where the backup generator is located.”

  “Nowhere for now. We need to decide, and hook it up.”

  “You okay?”

  “Fine.” Gavin grinned stupidly.

  “You’re not acting fine.”

  “I’m preoccupied.” His stupid grin grew even wider.

  Ethan couldn’t recall seeing his brother act like that, other than the day he’d proposed to Sage. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

  “No.” Gavin shook his head, then laughed. “Yes.”

  “Which is it?”

  “I’m not supposed to say anything.”

  “Sage is bred,” Clay uttered bluntly.

  Leave it to a cattleman to use animal vernacular when describing a pregnancy.

  “Is she?” Ethan felt his own mouth stretch into a smile.

  “She took the home pregnancy test this morning. We’d planned on waiting before having a baby. A year at least.”

  “Congratulations.” Ethan pumped his brother’s hand, then captured him in a headlock. “Dad’s going to be thrilled.”

  “Don’t say anything,” Gavin warned, after enduring a suffocating hug from Clay. “I promised Sage. She wants to wait until she sees the doctor.”

  “Let’s celebrate,” Clay suggested. “Lunch at the Rusty Nail. My treat.”

  The local saloon and grill had been one of their favorite hangouts in years past.

  “I’m in.”

  “Call Conner. Maybe he can cut loose from work and join us.”

  An hour later, the four friends were seated at a table, having beer with their hamburgers and reminiscing about their high school years and all the trouble they’d managed to get into.

  Gavin didn’t stop smiling, except when he talked about Sage or Cassie. Then his expression grew soft and his voice low. Ethan was truly happy for his brother. He was also jealous and wouldn’t mind having a little happiness for himself.

  With Caitlin.

  Ethan couldn’t see himself loving and living with any other woman but her, which explained why he’d dated only occasionally since they’d broken up.

  Caitlin wasn’t his better half, she was his other half. The piece of him that had been missing for years.

  Maybe he should consider quitting busting broncs. After the jackpot last week, everyone knew he could still ride with the big boys.

  He toyed with the idea of giving up his lifelong dream, and to his shock and alarm, it no longer frightened the hell out of him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Caitlin sto
od in line behind a dad and his pair of preschoolers. The girl, the older of the two, wriggled excitedly and chattered incessantly. The boy wore a solemn expression and chewed nervously on the tip of his mitten.

  “Look at the horses!” The girl grasped her brother by the shoulders and shook him. “Real horses.”

  Caitlin decided the family must not be from Mustang Valley. Most of the residents owned horses, had neighbors with horses or rented them at the Powells’ stables. They wouldn’t get that excited over the prospect of seeing “real” ones. As she glanced around, it occurred to her there were quite a number of unfamiliar faces at the Holly Days Festival. Articles in the local newspapers and advertisements on radio stations must have attracted people from all over the Phoenix metropolitan area.

  A moment later, the man finished his transaction with Sage. “Come on, kids,” he said.

  The girl skipped alongside him as they headed to the decorated wagon. The boy lagged behind. Caitlin was convinced he would be as enthused as his sister by the time they returned from their ride. She didn’t see how much money the dad had given Sage as a donation, but her cheery, “Thank you so much and Merry Christmas,” led Caitlin to believe the amount was generous.

  “How’s business?” she asked, stepping up to the folding table that was serving as a ticket counter. Tamiko had painted a large poster advertising the wagon rides and the mustang sanctuary, and had taped it to the front of the table.

  “Couldn’t be better!” Sage gushed. “Most people are giving more than what we’re asking for the tickets.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  “This was a fantastic idea you had. I can’t thank you enough for getting the committee to agree.”

  “We couldn’t have done it without Ethan and his family.” Caitlin glanced over at him. Ethan sat in the wagon with his back to her, but they’d exchanged looks often during the evening, each one giving her a small tingle. “The festival is everything we had hoped it would be, and they’re a big reason why.”

  During the past week, the stately pine tree in the center of the park had been decorated with silver and gold ornaments and candy canes. The white lights strung through its boughs flickered merrily. Santa’s workshop, complete with artificial snow, a replica North Pole and a life-size Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer, had been erected across from the tree. Santa sat on a makeshift throne, his pudgy belly hanging over his belt, his white beard covering his chest. The line of children waiting to have their pictures taken with him extended clear to the back of the workshop.