Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish (Harlequin American Romance)

by Mcdavid, Cathy

  “Eight’s fine,” he said, ignoring her attempts to postpone. “If it’s not too late for you.” He rose at the crack of dawn and assumed she did, too, what with her schedule.

  “No, eight’s okay.” She peered nervously at her brother, who was busy with his MP3 player. “We can start tonight.”

  “Anything special I should have on hand?”

  “I’ll bring my portable table. We can set up just about anywhere.”

  “Okay. Drive straight to the bunkhouse and park there.”

  “The bunkhouse?”

  “I live there now. Moved out of the main house so Sage and Isa can move in.”

  “O…kay.”

  “If you don’t want to be alone with me—”

  “It makes no difference,” she answered tersely.

  Somehow, Ethan thought it did. He just wasn’t sure why.

  Chapter Four

  “Easy, boy.” Ethan held on to Prince’s lead rope, gripping it securely beneath the halter. “That’s right, there you go.” He ran his other hand down the horse’s neck, over his withers and across his back, applying just the slightest amount of pressure. Prince stood, though not quietly. He bobbed his head and swished his tail nervously.

  On the ground beside Ethan lay a saddle blanket, which he hoped Prince would allow to be placed on his back. The step was a small but important one toward breaking the horse. If Caitlin arrived on time, she’d be able to watch him.

  He resisted pulling out his cell phone and viewing the display. It was 8:18. He knew this because he’d checked the time four minutes ago when it was 8:14, and every few minutes before that for the last half hour. He doubted she was going to keep their physical-therapy appointment, not after the disagreement they’d had this afternoon.

  “Uncle Ethan!” Cassie yelled. “What are you doing?” She and Isa came bounding toward the round pen.

  The horse’s reaction to the girls’ approach was immediate. Prancing sideways, Prince tried to jerk free of Ethan’s hold…and almost succeeded.

  “Relax, buddy,” Ethan soothed, his grip on the lead rope like iron. Luckily, he was using his right hand. Thanks to the way his shoulder felt tonight, his left arm was pretty much useless.

  The mustang, eyes wide, stared at Cassie and Isa, who peered at him and Ethan from between the rails of the pen.

  “You girls stay back, you hear me? And keep ahold of that pup. I don’t want him getting kicked.”

  They complied, sort of, by retreating maybe six inches. Cassie did scoop up her puppy, Blue, a five-month-old cattle dog mix that was out of her sight only when she was at school or a friend’s house.

  “Gonna ride him, Uncle Ethan?” Isa asked.

  Though not officially a member of the family yet, Sage’s daughter had already started calling Ethan “uncle.” Probably because Cassie did. Isa copied the older girl’s every move.

  Ethan didn’t mind. In fact, he rather enjoyed the moniker—and his role of the younger bachelor uncle who constantly set a bad example for his nieces by swearing in front of them and periodically losing his temper.

  Months of counseling after the car bomb explosion had taught Ethan how to deal with his sometimes volatile and erratic emotions. Normally, he did a good job. On occasion, like earlier today, he wondered if maybe he’d quit attending counseling too soon, and should call the VA hospital for a referral. His buttons lay close to the surface and were easily pushed.

  “Not tonight,” he said, answering Isa’s question. “Prince isn’t ready.”

  “When will you ride him?” Cassie asked.

  “Soon.”

  “That’s what you said yesterday.”

  “Don’t you girls have any homework?”

  “We did it already,” Isa volunteered.

  “A TV show you want to watch?”

  “We’re still grounded until tomorrow,” Cassie answered glumly.

  “You’re lucky that’s all the punishment you got. If I’d pulled a stunt like you two did when I was a kid, Grandpa Wayne would have had me cleaning stalls every day before school and mucking out the calf pens.”

  Come to think of it, those had always been his chores. Both he and Gavin had helped their father and grandfather with the cattle business from the time they were Isa’s age.

  “Yeah, but if not for us, you wouldn’t have captured Prince.”

  Cassie was right, even if her assessment of the situation was a mite skewed.

  Last month, in an act of rebellion, she and Isa had taken off on horseback into the mountains without telling anyone where they were going. After a frantic two-hour search, they were found in the box canyon, along with Sage’s missing mare and Prince.

  The wild mustang had proved difficult to capture, requiring all of Ethan’s and Gavin’s skills as cowboys. It had also been one of the most exciting moments of their lives.

  “Maybe not that night, but we’d have captured him eventually.” Ethan continued stroking Prince, running his hand over the horse’s back and along his rump. The movement aggravated the pain in his shoulder, but he ignored it.

  “Did you ride a bronc earlier at Mr. Duvall’s?” Cassie asked.

  “I did.” Ethan had gotten back to the ranch at seven and taken a quick shower just in case Caitlin showed up. He’d decided to work with Prince, because he didn’t want to appear as if he was waiting for her—which he was.

  “Did you make it a whole eight seconds?”

  “Not quite. Almost four.” Which was double his last time.

  “Did you get hurt again?”

  Why did everyone assume he couldn’t fall without injuring himself?

  “No, I didn’t.” He had, however, eaten a whole bucketful of arena dirt when he’d hit the ground. He should have taken another turn on a different bronc, but he figured one wreck a night was about all his body could handle.

  He slowly bent and reached for the saddle blanket near his feet.

  “What are you doing now?” Cassie asked.

  “Hopefully, getting Prince used to this.”

  His plan didn’t work. Prince reacted to the blanket as if a swarm of hornets might fly out from behind it at any second.

  Wherever Prince had come from, and it was still a mystery, he’d never known human touch. Gavin claimed the horse was a descendant of the wild mustangs that had roamed the valley till the 1940s. Ethan thought that was impossible, but had yet to come up with a better explanation.

  “Why don’t you try a carrot or an apple?” Isa suggested. “That’s what Mama used to train her horse.”

  “Good idea. What say you girls run in the house and see what you can find in the refrigerator.”

  Isa lit up. “Okay!”

  “Uncle Ethan.” Cassie turned and craned her neck. “Someone’s here.”

  He saw the headlights of an approaching vehicle seconds before he heard the sound of tires crunching on gravel.

  Had Caitlin finally arrived?

  Excitement coursed through him when he recognized the familiar outline of her minivan.

  Taking his eyes off Prince proved to be a mistake. The horse—possibly out of affection, probably out of dislike—butted Ethan in the shoulder. His injured shoulder.

  “Shit!”

  “Uncle Ethan!” Isa slapped her hands over her mouth. “You’re not supposed to swear in front of us.”

  Cassie, a little older and a little wiser than her soon-to-be stepsister, appeared unfazed by the use of a four-letter word. “They parked in front of the bunkhouse,” she informed Ethan, her eyes glued to the vehicle.

  He unclipped the lead rope from Prince. “It’s okay. You girls can go inside now.”

  Cassie and Isa didn’t budge. Not until the minivan door opened and Caitlin stepped out.

  “It’s Nurse Carmichael from school,” Cassie said with a very adult interest. “What’s she doing here?”

  Ethan slipped through the round-pen gate, leaving Prince inside. “If you must know, she’s helping me with my shoulder.” He set
the saddle blanket on an overturned bucket by the gate, well out of Prince’s reach.

  “How?”

  “Giving me physical therapy.”

  “Now?” Cassie furrowed her brow in an impressive imitation of parental concern. “Isn’t it kind of late?”

  “Seriously, you two,” Ethan chided. “Get inside.”

  Unfortunately, Caitlin spotted them across the open area and started in their direction.

  “Come on.” Cassie grabbed Isa’s hand. “Let’s go say hi to her.”

  Ethan had no choice but to let them run ahead. He did well riding horses and walking from place to place, but he hadn’t quite mastered the fifty-yard dash in under ten seconds.

  Just as well. The extra time allowed him to study Caitlin. She didn’t look as upset as she had earlier today. That, or she was hiding behind her nurse facade.

  A tactic, he began to suspect, she frequently employed to keep people—him specifically—at a distance.

  No more, now that he was onto her.

  CAITLIN WAS SUDDENLY surrounded on all sides. “Well, hello, there.”

  “Nurse Carmichael.” Cassie smiled exuberantly, her arm slung around the younger girl. “This is my stepsister, Isa. Well, she’s not my stepsister yet, but she will be soon. Her mom’s marrying my dad.”

  “Hi.” The little girl stuck out her hand, her enormous grin adorable despite two missing teeth.

  “Nice to meet you, Isa.” Caitlin shook Isa’s hand while gently disengaging her pant leg from the puppy’s fiercely clenched teeth. “I heard you’ve been riding my old horse.”

  “Chico?”

  “Uh-huh. He and I were good pals a lot of years ago.”

  “My dad never told us that.” Cassie appeared suitably impressed.

  “He may not have remembered.”

  “I don’t know. He’s got a pretty good memory. He’s always boring us with stories about when he was our age.”

  “Yeah,” Isa agreed, imitating Cassie’s tone. “Boring us.”

  “He’s not the one who took me riding.” Caitlin glanced up as Ethan joined them, a familiar fluttering in her middle. “Your uncle Ethan did.”

  “Oh,” Cassie said, as if she suddenly understood everything. “I see.”

  “Isn’t it time for you two to hit the sack?” Ethan came up behind the girls and patted them on the head.

  “Do we have to?” Cassie complained.

  “Do we have to?” Isa echoed, only whinier.

  “Get yourselves inside. Whether or not you go to bed is up to your parents.”

  “Just when it was getting good,” Cassie mumbled under her breath.

  “What about Prince?” Isa asked.

  “He’s fine in the round pen. I’ll put him away later.”

  “Uncle Ethan’s breaking Prince,” Cassie announced with pride.

  “He told me.” Caitlin sent him a silent reprimand. “Except he’s not supposed to do anything that might hurt his shoulder.”

  “Like bronc riding? ’Cause he went to Mr. Duvall’s earlier.”

  “Exactly like bronc riding.”

  Would he ever learn? Ever change?

  And what if he did?

  “Scoot,” Ethan admonished the girls, his voice warm with affection. “You’ve gotten me in enough trouble for one night.”

  “I’m not sure you need any help,” Caitlin admonished.

  “Never did.”

  So true. And for much of that trouble, she’d been his cohort. How many times had they sneaked out together when they were supposed to be home in bed? Or skipped class to head to the river? Or risked being caught making love when her college roommate was due back any minute?

  No sooner were the girls out of earshot, the puppy chasing gleefully after them, than Ethan said, “About this afternoon—”

  “It’s okay. Really.” Caitlin didn’t want to talk about it. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. “Water under the bridge.”

  “I did love you. More than anything.”

  Why did he have to say that? “If you don’t mind, Ethan, I’ve had a long day.”

  That did the trick, and he shut up.

  They walked the short distance to his bunkhouse. Caitlin wasn’t sure what to expect, having never been inside before. It had always been occupied by two or three ranch hands when she and Ethan dated.

  They stopped at her van for her duffel bag and the portable table, which Ethan insisted on carrying despite her protests.

  “This is nice,” she commented upon entering the modest stucco structure.

  “There’s still a lot of work to do.”

  She noticed the partially framed walls dividing the single large room into a living room, bedroom and hall, and the smell of fresh paint lingering in the air. “It’s bigger than I thought it would be.”

  He leaned the portable table against the kitchen counter. “To be honest, I didn’t think you’d come.”

  “Like you said before, we have an agreement. And I don’t back out on agreements just because the other person says something I don’t like or don’t agree with.”

  “Me, either.”

  “Good.” Caitlin lightened her tone. “Because the committee is really excited about the Holly Days wagon rides.” She removed her jacket and reached into the duffel bag, more than ready to get down to business. “I usually start with some heat therapy.”

  “Shirt on or off?”

  “A T-shirt’s fine.”

  Without any hesitation, he stripped off his denim jacket and work shirt and tossed them onto the couch.

  Oh, boy. Clearly, she should have better prepared herself on the drive over. Whoever thought plain white T-shirts could be so sexy?

  Tearing her gaze away required effort. She looked at his feet. “You might want to change out of those boots.” Then she remembered his prosthesis. “But it isn’t necessary.”

  “Be right back.”

  He stepped through the partially framed wall into the bedroom. Sitting with his back to her on the corner of the bed, he removed his boots. She thought she heard the sound of a zipper.

  Rather than stare, she busied herself setting up the portable table and warming a hot pack in the microwave.

  Ethan returned a few minutes later wearing a pair of athletic shoes.

  “Have a seat.” She indicated the kitchen chair she’d pulled out. “I brought these for tonight.” She touched the pair of two-pound hand weights she’d set on the table. “Do you by chance have any of your own?”

  “Not here. There might be some in the storeroom. It’s been a while since I’ve worked out.”

  Caitlin remembered when Ethan had played football and basketball. While he’d lifted weights in the garage, she’d kept him company, talking and flirting and doing her best to distract him. Most of the time, it hadn’t worked. But there were times it had…?.

  Removing the hot pack from the microwave, she tested the temperature before laying it on his shoulder. Next, she busied herself readying the portable table. In truth, there wasn’t much to do. She wiped it down twice with disinfectant spray just to avoid standing around. Ethan, she was sure, would attempt to fill the lull with conversation of a personal nature, and she was determined to keep their session completely professional.

  “Is Justin the reason you became a nurse?”

  Caitlin had been fluffing a small travel pillow. At Ethan’s question, she set it down. Usually when people asked, she answered that she’d always wanted to be a nurse. Ethan, however, knew better.

  “Yes.” She smoothed the last remaining wrinkles from the pillowcase. “After the accident, I took an active role in his care. Found out I could actually stand the sight of blood. I’m a pretty good nurse. Who’d have guessed?”

  “Me.”

  “Right.” She gave a small laugh. “The last thing I was interested in when we were going together was taking care of other people.”

  “You’re a softie. The first to jump in when someone needs assistance. Of any kind. I always fig
ured you’d work in a people-oriented field.”

  What had Ethan seen in her all those years ago that she hadn’t seen herself?

  “Let’s start on those exercises,” she said briskly.

  She spent the next twenty minutes showing him several simple exercises designed to loosen his muscles, build strength, decrease pain and restore mobility. Some of the exercises were done with weights, others without. Some standing, some sitting. When they were finished, Caitlin instructed him to lie on the table.

  “Face up or down?” he asked.

  “Up.”

  She thought she’d prepared herself for this part of the session. Once again, she was wrong.

  Bending over Ethan, she wrapped her arms around his upper body, leaning in so that their faces were inches apart. Their positions, and the ones that followed, sorely tested her ability to remain detached. His dark eyes locked with hers. His chest rose and fell with each breath he took. His masculine scent filled her nostrils and triggered an onslaught of sensual memories.

  The cheerfulness he’d exhibited earlier slowly vanished, and his features went from animated to stoic to strained. He, too, was being affected by their close proximity.

  Levering a hand beneath his shoulder, she lifted his arm over his head, stretching it as far as his constricted muscles would allow. Unable to stop herself, she looked down at his face, bracing herself for the jolt of awareness that would race through her.

  It didn’t happen quite like she imagined.

  Ethan tensed, his upper body involuntarily lifting several inches off the table. “Son of a bitch! That hurts.”

  “Sorry.” Caitlin immediately relaxed her grip. “I didn’t realize…?. Justin usually lets me know right away when I’m pushing him too hard.”

  “That’ll teach me to tough it out.” Perspiration beaded his brow.

  “Yes, it will.” She kneaded his shoulder, noting when the tension ebbed away. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You sure? I was thinking it was your way of getting back at me for all the misery I caused you.”

  “You are joking, right?” When he didn’t reply, she said, “Ethan!”

  “Yes. I’m joking.”

  His words didn’t reassure her.