Free at last of both humans and the terrifying plastic sack, Prince loped in circles, stirrups bouncing and reins dangling.
“Are you all right?” Caitlin hollered to both men.
Neither one answered.
Disregarding her own safety, she flung the gate open.
“Look out!”
At Gavin’s warning, Caitlin dived to her left, narrowly avoiding being trampled by Prince as he lunged through the opening and thundered toward the stables.
Caitlin raced into the round pen. “Ethan, can you hear me? Ethan!” She dropped down beside him, frantically taking in every detail. The closed eyes. The irregular breathing. The cuts and contusions. “Ethan, sweetie, can you hear me?”
His eyelids fluttered once, then went still.
Gavin stumbled toward them.
She looked up at him. “Do you have a cell phone on you? Call 911.”
“Give him a minute. He’ll come around.”
“A minute? Are you insane?”
She was normally levelheaded in a crisis, one of the qualities that made her a good nurse. With Ethan hurt, being levelheaded flew out the window.
“Call 911 and do it now!”
Removing his phone from his pocket, Gavin placed the call.
Caitlin touched Ethan’s bare head, his arm and back with just the tips of her fingers. She didn’t dare disturb him, having no idea the seriousness of his injuries. A concussion, no doubt. Fractured bones. Internal injuries. A broken neck. Oh, dear God, he’d landed so hard, and his left arm lay at an unnatural angle. His hat sat upside down on the other side of the pen.
“Ethan, please.” Tears blurred her vision, and her voice splintered. “Talk to me.”
“He’s going to be okay.”
She was only dimly aware of Gavin’s voice as it penetrated her escalating terror.
“You don’t know that.”
Her composure crumpled. She was once again in the hospital, pacing the halls, waiting for the doctors to deliver news of Justin’s condition. And when it finally came, it had devastated her and her parents.
Sobbing, she barely felt Gavin’s hand giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze.
“Go fetch your mother,” he told Isa, who scampered off.
“Stay with me, sweetie…” Caitlin would give anything to hold Ethan in her arms, lay his head in her lap and stroke his hair. All she could do was watch helplessly as his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath he drew.
Where was the closest fire station? She couldn’t remember.
Ethan groaned softly.
“I’m here. I’m here.” She tentatively stroked his cheek with her index finger.
“See, I told you,” Gavin said. “He’ll be fine.”
Only, Gavin was wrong. Ethan didn’t rouse, and his face lost even more color.
“Gavin!” Sage came out of nowhere. “What can I do?”
“Keep everyone away. Direct the emergency vehicles here. And tell Javier to find Prince.”
How could he care about that damn stupid horse after it had nearly killed his brother?
Finally, mercifully, she heard the distant wail of a siren.
“Help’s on the way, sweetie,” she told Ethan. “It won’t be long now.”
Long until what? The doctors came to the hospital waiting area and delivered a hopeless prognosis?
Ethan had been through so much already. He’d lost his mother and his leg. Plus the cattle operation that had been in his family for a hundred years. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve tragedy heaped upon tragedy.
The paramedic unit pulled up alongside the round pen. Two uniformed men rushed through the gate, lugging equipment. A fire truck came next. As Gavin guided Caitlin out of the way so the paramedics could examine Ethan, more uniformed men arrived. Seven altogether.
They asked questions Caitlin couldn’t answer. When she pressed them for details on Ethan’s condition, they gave noncommittal responses.
“I’m a nurse.”
“Then you know to let us do our jobs,” one of the men said, not unkindly.
Within minutes, they had Ethan hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV. They’d checked his respiration, taken his pulse and his blood pressure, and assessed his injuries. He came to, but only fleetingly, and wasn’t coherent.
Understanding every move the paramedics made, every medical term they used, just made the situation worse for Caitlin. His vitals weren’t good, and his failure to respond was of concern.
The ambulance arrived with its EMTs. Ethan’s head and neck were immobilized, and he was carefully lifted onto a stretcher, then transported to the vehicle.
“Can I go with him?” Caitlin beseeched, her gaze going from Gavin to the EMTs.
“It would be better if you met us at the hospital.”
The female EMT slammed the ambulance door shut, the sound echoing through the empty corridors of Caitlin’s heart.
ANOTHER HOSPITAL, ANOTHER waiting room. Caitlin hadn’t bitten her nails since she was in middle school, but her right thumbnail was now gnawed to the quick. She was starting on her left one when Justin wheeled into the waiting room.
She jumped up from her chair. Although she was glad to see him, his presence evoked memories of the terrible night she and her parents had spent after his fall from the cliffs.
“Any word?” he asked, throwing his arms wide.
She bent and held him for many seconds. “He regained consciousness in the ambulance. Was able to answer questions, like what’s his name and what day it is.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t remember the accident.”
“He may not.”
True. Hadn’t Ethan told her he still didn’t remember the car bomb explosion?
“He’s in surgery now.”
“What for?”
“Six broken ribs, one close to his lungs. They also want to make sure there are no internal injuries.”
The Powells sat huddled together on the couches where they had waited along with Caitlin for the last hour and a half—Gavin, his father, Sage and Isa. Their worried expressions told a silent story. Wayne Powell was a wreck. When he wasn’t pacing he was staring out the window. Was he thinking of his late wife, just as Caitlin was thinking of her brother?
“You okay?” Justin asked.
“Fine.”
“You sure? Your hands are shaking.”
Were they? Caitlin glanced down, startled to see that her brother was right.
“It’s nothing.” She rubbed her palms on her pants.
“Mom and Dad said to call if you need anything.”
Justin took her back to the Powells. They greeted him like one of the family, then everyone fell silent again.
Just when Caitlin was about to crawl out of her skin, the surgeon made an appearance and was instantly mobbed.
“How is he?” Ethan’s father asked before anyone else could.
The doctor’s eyes were somber, and she didn’t mince words. “He’s in stable condition, but make no mistake, his injuries are serious. Had the horse landed differently, your son might not be here. He’s a very lucky man.”
Ethan had said almost the same thing about the explosion when he’d lost his leg. How often could a person escape death?
“What are his injuries?” Gavin asked.
“He sustained a concussion in the fall, and right and left rib fractures when the horse stepped on him—eight in total. One of the fractured ribs missed puncturing his lung by only a few millimeters. His spleen is bruised. Thankfully, it didn’t rupture. We need to watch that closely over the next few weeks. And two herniated disks.”
The surgeon went on to explain Ethan’s treatment, expected hospital stay and rehabilitation.
“When can we see him?” Wayne Powell asked.
“As soon as he’s been moved to a regular room. About a half hour to an hour. When you do see him, tell him I said to be more careful next time.”
Once the surgeo
n left, everyone started talking, their relief needing an outlet. Sage broke into racking sobs.
Caitlin wanted to cry, too, but something prevented her. She kept remembering the surgeon’s warning.
Had the horse landed differently, your son might not be here…. Tell him I said to be more careful next time….
Next time.
She should never have told him she would try to cope with his bronc riding and breaking horses. Never given him that photo.
Would he have stopped for her?
Maybe, maybe not. She’d basically given him her blanket approval.
This was her fault.
All right, maybe not all her fault. But partially her fault.
Like Justin’s injury.
“You okay, sis?”
Caitlin blinked, shook her head to clear it. “Yeah. If you want to leave now, go ahead.”
“I’ll stay until after you’ve seen him.”
“Thanks.” She swallowed.
“Ethan’s going to be fine.”
“Until the next time.”
Gavin turned to stare at her.
She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Justin didn’t seem to notice. “He’s tough.”
But was she? Caitlin had her doubts.
“You heading back to Mom and Dad’s or going home?” she asked.
“Neither. Tamiko’s family is having an open house tonight and they invited me. I thought I might drop by for an hour after I leave here.”
“What about her boyfriend?”
“He’ll be there, too. Unfortunately.”
“Oh, Justin.”
“Quit worrying about me, sis.”
“I can’t. I won’t. You’re my brother.” She’d almost said baby brother. He wouldn’t have liked that.
“Tamiko can do better than him. When she finally wises up, I want to be there, waiting in the wings.”
“What if she doesn’t wise up? I hate to see you get hurt.”
“Life comes with risks.”
“We can minimize them.”
“We can also live in a bubble.” He smiled at her. “What fun is that?”
Not long after, a nurse came by to inform the family that Ethan could receive visitors.
“Don’t overwhelm him,” she advised. “He’s still pretty groggy and needs his rest.”
“Isa and I will wait for you,” Sage said.
“But I want to see Uncle Ethan,” Isa pouted.
“We will, mija, tomorrow. You can draw him a picture.”
Isa was only slightly mollified.
“I can come back tomorrow, too,” Caitlin said. Now that the moment to see Ethan had arrived, she was having reservations.
“No,” Gavin said. “He’ll be furious with us if we let you leave.”
They took the elevator to the fourth floor. Outside Ethan’s door, Caitlin hesitated. His brother and father went ahead of her. She watched from the doorway, her feet frozen to the floor.
She was a nurse and knew what every beep and readout on the monitors meant. He was stable; she could see that at a glance. His complexion was pasty, he barely moved and his responses were slow. But his injuries weren’t life-threatening, and according to the surgeon, he’d make a full recovery.
Except, at this moment, she wasn’t a nurse who thought logically and dispassionately. She was scared and worried and guilty as hell. Seeing Ethan’s prosthesis leaned up against the chest of drawers intensified her emotions.
He’s a very lucky man.
She gave his brother and father time alone with Ethan. He was considerably more alert than she’d expected. Like Justin had said, Ethan was tough.
He asked about the fall, had Gavin repeat the story twice. He also wanted to know the details of his injuries and what procedure had been performed during the surgery. As they continued talking, he became more and more groggy. Between his injuries and the pain medication, it was to be expected.
“Did the doctor mention how soon until I can ride again?” he asked.
Ride again! How could he even be thinking of that?
“Six weeks at least,” Gavin answered. “Depends on how fast you recover. Knowing you, it won’t be long.”
Gavin was encouraging him. What kind of brother was he? Had he not heard the doctor’s warning?
“Maybe you should give it a while,” Wayne Powell said, the only sane person in the room as far as Caitlin was concerned.
“Come on, Dad.” Ethan smiled crookedly. “Didn’t you teach us when we fall to get right back in the saddle?”
And that was exactly what Ethan had done when he’d lost his leg. Why would she think a concussion, a half-dozen broken ribs and a multitude of minor injuries would stop him?
She didn’t stand a chance.
“Where’s Caitlin?” he asked, slurring her name.
“She’s here.” Gavin turned and motioned her into the room.
One step was all she could manage before walking into an invisible wall.
“Hey,” Ethan said, lifting his head. He peered at her with unfocused eyes, then fell back on the pillow. “Sorry, I’m a little dizzy.”
Caitlin, too. Her own head swam and her stomach roiled.
“I’ll come back later.” She grabbed the doorjamb, desperately needing support. “When you feel better.”
“No, don’t leave,” Ethan croaked.
The invisible wall wouldn’t let her through.
“Come on, Dad.” Gavin patted him on the back. “Let’s give them a minute alone.”
They squeezed past her into the hallway, leaving Caitlin alone with Ethan.
She mustered all her courage. For such a small room, it was a very long walk to the bed. She attempted to draw on her nursing experience, use it as a shield.
It didn’t work. She wasn’t in love with her patients.
“How are you?”
It should have been her asking him the question.
“Me? You’re the one who got bucked off a horse.” And nearly killed. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, a lump rising in her throat.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“Ruining your Christmas.”
“You didn’t,” she said, because that was what he needed to hear. Inside, she was dismayed and distraught. The day had gone from one of the most joyous she’d spent to one of the worst. “I’m just glad you’re going to be okay.”
“What about us? Will we be okay?”
The lump in her throat burned.
She wanted to reassure him. Tell him that nothing had changed. They were as good as they’d always been. But the past two and a half hours had taken a terrible toll on her, and she had yet to assess the damage.
“Let’s talk tomorrow.”
“That sounds like a brush-off.” He was fighting to stay awake.
She would not have this conversation in the hospital with him lying there in pain and doped up on medication.
“You need to rest,” she said.
“That’s Nurse Carmichael talking.”
“Yes, and she knows best right now.” Rest for him, space for her.
“It was an accident.”
She hated that word. People used it when they didn’t want to claim any responsibility for a bad decision they’d made.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You’re running away.” The medications he was on didn’t disguise the reproving tone of his voice.
Why was it okay for him to leave and not her?
His eyes drifted closed and the frown he’d been wearing vanished. Seconds later, he was sound asleep.
She had no trouble crying now. Tears streamed from her eyes as she staggered past the nurse’s station to the elevator.
She was in the parking lot before it dawned on her she had no vehicle, having ridden over with the Powells. Were they still in the hospital? She didn’t remember seeing them in her hasty exit. Or Justin. Maybe he could drop her off at the ranch to fe
tch her van, on the way to…where was it he was going? Tamiko’s parents’ open house.
Thinking was hard, more than Caitlin could deal with at the moment.
Tears continued to fall. Someone asked her if she was all right. Fortunately, sobbing people weren’t uncommon at hospitals.
Caitlin found her way to a bench outside the entrance, sat and waited for her composure to return. It did, though her hold on it was fragile and, she feared, temporary.
With quaking hands, she located her cell phone and dialed Justin’s number.
“What’s wrong?” he asked upon hearing her voice.
He knew what she’d been through after his fall, and would understand her better than anyone else.
“I can’t keep doing this,” she blurted. “I just can’t.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ethan hobbled to the pasture behind the barn and the specially designed paddock. Prince greeted him with a friendly whinny and a head toss.
“Don’t try and get on my good side. It’s too late for that.”
He stroked the horse’s head and sleek neck. They’d come a long way since his capture, he and this once wild mustang. Had forged a lasting bond against all odds.
Ethan wished he could say the same for him and Caitlin.
While he and Prince still had considerable work ahead of them, they were well on their way. He understood the horse, accepted him for what he was, flaws and all. Tempered his high hopes with reasonable expectations. Prince, Ethan was convinced, felt the same about him.
He wished he had some idea—any idea—of how Caitlin felt about him.
She hadn’t returned even one of his phone calls in the six days since she’d fled his hospital room. He still wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Damn concussion and pain pills had messed with his memory.
What he did remember was that she’d left in tears. Based on what his brother had witnessed in the waiting room, and the previous disagreements Ethan had had with Caitlin, he guessed his cowboy ways were the cause.
How were they supposed to resolve their differences if she didn’t take his phone calls?
Justin was no help. He was busy job hunting now that he’d finished college. Ethan had talked to him once, and his advice was to be patient. Caitlin would come around.
Ethan had contemplated jumping in his truck and driving to her condo, surprising her with an unannounced visit, but he’d barely made it to the paddock without stopping four times to rest and let an excruciating spasm recede. Coughing hurt. Yawning, too. Sneezing nearly knocked him to his knees.
Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish (Harlequin American Romance) Page 17
