Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish (Harlequin American Romance)

by Mcdavid, Cathy

  “Goodbye, Justin.” Isa hung on to his wheelchair, which earlier in the day had intimidated her. “If you come back, I’ll let you ride my horse, Chico.”

  “Deal, kiddo.” He bumped fists with her before wheeling himself through the back door.

  Caitlin’s steps momentarily faltered. Was Isa’s invitation spur-of-the-moment or had Justin and the girls been talking about riding? Considering his last visit to the ranch, Caitlin should have seen this coming.

  “I’m right behind you,” she called to her brother, who beat her out the door.

  She’d said her farewells to everyone except Ethan, who’d disappeared at the last second. She tried not to let the obvious slight bother her. They’d see each other again tomorrow when she and her volunteers came by to work on the wagon.

  Sound reasoning did nothing to alleviate her disappointment.

  “Take your time,” Justin called to her.

  She scarcely noticed the hint of amusement in his tone, she was so distracted. Once outside, she almost ran over Ethan.

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  That would probably be a mistake. It would be much less nerve-racking to say goodbye here, with his family watching from the doorway. Only she didn’t, and he fell into step beside her.

  Lately, it seemed, the harder she tried to keep him at a distance, the closer he got.

  Or was it the closer she allowed him to get?

  “Thanks again for coming,” he said.

  She hoped he wouldn’t take her hand, as he had in the bunkhouse. Touching him would break down the last of her defenses.

  “I really enjoyed myself. Justin did, too.”

  “Dad insists I ask you back.”

  “That was nice of him.”

  No commitments. Better for both of them in the long run.

  “What time will you be here tomorrow? I’ll make sure everything’s ready.”

  “Really,” she insisted, “I don’t want to put you through any more trouble than I already have. It’s enough that you’re letting us use your wagon during the festival—and will be driving it.”

  “I like your friends. And I like you.”

  Here was where she was supposed to say, “I like you, too,” but that would be asking for trouble.

  “Let’s schedule one last physical-therapy session before the jackpot,” she said instead. “How about tomorrow after we’re done working on the wagon?”

  “Yeah, sure. I appreciate all you’ve done. My shoulder’s doing great.”

  Justin had already hoisted himself into the front passenger seat and collapsed his wheelchair, leaning it against the open door. Ethan went over to him, and, after saying goodbye, grabbed the chair.

  Caitlin knew better than to insist he let her get it. Whenever Ethan was around, he carried things. Maybe to show everyone he wasn’t an invalid. More likely, that was the way Wayne Powell had raised his sons.

  When Ethan had finished loading the chair, he came around to join her at the driver’s-side door. For an awkward second or two, Caitlin debated what to do.

  “See you tomorrow,” he said.

  “Ten sharp.”

  Another second passed. Two. Three.

  Oh, what the hell, she thought. Throwing caution to the wind, she looped her arms around his neck for what was supposed to be a brief, casual hug…?.

  Only she was the one to hold on, not Ethan.

  The day had been filled with memories. Of the ranch house. Thanksgiving dinner. The Powell family. In truth, the past two weeks had been a constant trip down memory lane. She’d responded to Ethan’s kiss the other night out of habit, her body instinctively nestling against his as it had so often in the past.

  As it did now.

  Emotions, tender and bittersweet, weakened her resolve. She leaned into him and rested her head in the crook of his neck. He stroked her hair, then combed his fingers through it. Another familiar gesture that stirred yet more memories.

  She removed her arms, now strangely limp, from around his neck. “I have to go.”

  “Take care.”

  Thankfully, Ethan didn’t acknowledge the hug.

  It would serve her right if he did, after she’d been so adamant that there could never be anything between them again.

  Before she quite knew what was happening, she was standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his cheek, her hands resting gently on his chest.

  He smelled amazing. Fresh and clean like the outdoors, where he spent most of his time. His flannel shirt was smooth beneath her palms, and the bristles of his five o’clock shadow tickled her lips. She shivered ever so slightly.

  I wish you hadn’t left.

  The thought came from nowhere. No, not nowhere. It came from a tiny corner of her heart where it had remained lodged for nine long years.

  Mystified and annoyed at what had come over her, she backed away from Ethan, ready to apologize for her lack of control.

  One look at his nonchalant expression and she promptly shut her mouth.

  Seriously! Was she the only one whose world was just rocked?

  Evidently so.

  Muttering something unintelligible, Caitlin dived into the minivan, dreading having to explain her actions to Justin.

  How could she expect Ethan to believe all her talk about them being just friends when she’d rushed headlong over the line she’d vehemently insisted he not cross?

  Chapter Eight

  Caitlin stood over a box of Christmas decorations, painstakingly unraveling a knotted mess that promised to be a string of lights. Over in the round pen, Ethan was working with Prince. He hadn’t stopped by to help her and her crew, hadn’t even waved at them. Considering the way they’d parted yesterday, he was undoubtedly avoiding her. With good reason. One minute she was insisting they couldn’t see each other, and the next she was, well, all over him.

  The sound of happy laughter distracted her, and she looked over at her brother and Tamiko. They were attempting to twine a string of lights through the spokes of a wagon wheel, and it didn’t seem to matter that their efforts weren’t producing the desired results. They were having fun.

  There was a lesson in there somewhere for Caitlin. She worked too hard. Not just at her various jobs, but at making her and Justin’s lives safe. Predictable. Structured. Comfortable.

  Thinking back, she hadn’t been playing it safe when she’d responded to Ethan’s potent kiss at the rodeo arena, or when she’d lost her head yesterday during their hug.

  Her glance fell again on Justin and Tamiko. Too bad Tamiko already had a boyfriend. She and Justin were cute together. As she bent close to talk to him, her long black hair fell like a silky curtain, momentarily shielding them from view.

  Attraction at its earliest and most innocent.

  Perhaps not so innocent, given the yearning in her brother’s eyes when Tamiko straightened.

  Caitlin’s heart broke a little. Her brother was obviously smitten and understandably so. Tamiko was gorgeous, bright and chock-full of personality. But she was also taken. Compared to the strong and towering young man painting the wagon’s sidewall, Caitlin doubted her brother stood a snowball’s chance. Tamiko was simply being kind to him, not realizing how hard and fast he was falling for her.

  Caitlin chuckled mirthlessly to herself. She and her brother were quite the pair. Here he was chasing a girl who wasn’t available, while she was trying her hardest to stop Ethan from chasing her.

  “You finished with that string of lights?” Howard asked.

  “Almost.” Caitlin smiled. The older man had turned out to be a big help.

  She and her crew of volunteers weren’t the only people at the ranch this Friday morning after Thanksgiving. At least a dozen riders were exercising their horses in the main arena. Another group was readying for a trail ride. In a small arena adjacent to the main one, a lone woman riding with an English saddle took her horse over a series of jumps. Clay and four or five of his men were hard at it, hammering, sawing and ra
ising a ruckus as they labored to convert the old cattle barn into a mare motel. Once in a while, one or two of the men wandered over to Ethan’s bunkhouse, carrying a tool-box or a ladder or sheets of drywall.

  Gavin waved to her as he left the barn and headed to the round pen.

  Caitlin did a double take. Ethan had finally gotten a saddle and bridle on the mustang. She stopped working on the lights to watch.

  The moment Gavin reached the pen, he and Ethan entered into a heated discussion. Ethan waved off his brother, who in turn demanded to be heard. When Ethan didn’t respond, Gavin climbed through the rails and into the pen. The argument continued.

  Prince behaved relatively well, all things considered. He was calmer, at least, than when Caitlin and Justin had visited him in his stall. Then again, these were the two people who spent the most time with him, and he was used to them.

  The brothers’ loud voices eventually drew a crowd of ranch hands. Clay emerged from the barn and, after quickly assessing the situation, hurried over.

  Gavin cautioned everyone to stay back. He stood at Prince’s head, gripping the lead rope attached to the halter Prince wore beneath his bridle. Ethan positioned himself at the horse’s right side, the reins bunched in one hand. With his other, he stroked Prince’s neck over and over.

  Suddenly, he lifted his good leg and placed his foot in the stirrup.

  He was going to ride Prince!

  Caitlin dropped the lights and ran toward the round pen to join the others.

  “Hey, come back,” Howard called after her.

  She ignored him.

  “Sis!”

  She slowed for Justin, who quickly caught up with her.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Ethan’s riding Prince.”

  “Cool.”

  That wasn’t how she would describe it.

  She wormed her way between two ranch hands. As much as watching Ethan terrified her, she had to be there in case something went wrong.

  Through the railings, she saw Ethan swing up into the saddle. Prince stood still, a perplexed expression on his face. He slowly craned his head around and sniffed Ethan’s leg, his ears twitching. Snorting once, he turned away.

  Caitlin expelled a giant sigh of relief. Everything was going to be okay. All that worrying, and Prince was a lamb at heart. Once again she’d overreacted.

  “Good boy,” Ethan murmured to the horse.

  Suddenly, Prince emitted an ear-piercing squeal, his entire body quivering. With no warning whatsoever, he started bucking in place again and again. Ethan was shaken so violently, his hat flew off. Just as quickly, he was flung backward when Prince reared.

  By some miracle, he hung on.

  The ranch hand beside Caitlin gave a loud whoop and jostled his neighbor’s arm. “Did ya see that? Ride ’em, Ethan!”

  Caitlin stared, transfixed. She hadn’t been this afraid since the day of Justin’s accident.

  THE TECHNIQUES USED FOR breaking a green horse weren’t the same as for riding a bucking bronc.

  Ethan transferred all his weight to the lower half of his body. Sitting squarely in the saddle, he pointed his heels toward the ground and squeezed Prince’s flanks with his calves. His goal was to hang on until the horse tired, which he hoped would be soon.

  He heard his name being called above the whoops and hollers of the people watching him, and thought he caught a glimpse of Caitlin from the corner of his eye. Prince twisted sideways, and from then on, all of Ethan’s attention was focused on outlasting the horse on their wild roller-coaster ride. With both hands gripping the reins, he pulled back, keeping Prince’s head tucked close to his body, and preventing him from rearing. Gavin stood in the pen, dashing out of harm’s way when necessary, but otherwise keeping a close watch on horse and rider.

  Clumps of dirt exploded from beneath Prince’s hooves as he bucked and bucked, showering nearby spectators. Ethan barely noticed. This was a contest of wills, and he had every intention of winning.

  As suddenly as it started, the rocking motion ceased. Prince transitioned into a choppy lope, lungs heaving and nostrils flaring. Ethan took a chance and gave the horse a little more rein. Prince extended his forelegs, and the ride became considerably smoother.

  Cheers and applause erupted. Gavin wore a grin the size of a dinner plate. Ethan’s chest swelled with satisfaction and accomplishment. This was hardly the first horse he’d broken, but it was definitely the best.

  Prince, always eager to be the center of attention, shifted into a high-stepping trot. Head raised, tail arched, he showed off in front of his admirers, understanding on some level that he was equally interesting to them with a human on his back as he was without one.

  Ethan let the horse have his fun. Hell, he was having fun, too. The time of his life. One of his first questions to the doctors when he’d woke after losing his leg was whether he would ever ride again.

  They’d uttered all the platitudes, that anything was possible with hard work and determination. But Ethan had glimpsed the uncertainty in their earnest expressions.

  Too bad those doctors weren’t here now. Not only could he ride, he could break green horses and compete in saddle bronc events. He might even win at the jackpot tomorrow. It was less of a long shot today than it had been yesterday.

  After a few more circuits of the pen, Ethan brought Prince to a halt and dismounted with Gavin’s help. He held out the reins to his brother.

  “Your turn.”

  Gavin took them. “Thanks.” He clapped Ethan on the shoulder—his good shoulder. “For everything.”

  Ethan heard what his brother didn’t say. There had been a time, after the explosion and during rehab, when Ethan wasn’t sure if he wanted to come home and help his family with the failing remains of their once thriving cattle operation. Coping with that loss on a daily basis was more than Ethan could handle. But he had come home, and together he, his brother and father built a new business with the potential to be just as profitable as the old one. Adapt or perish. Wasn’t that the saying?

  The Powells had adapted and, despite the odds, were succeeding.

  Ethan held Prince’s lead rope while Gavin swung up into the saddle. The horse’s eyes went wide at this sudden change, and he initially balked. Once Gavin was situated, however, he settled down, obediently trotting in a circle.

  Ethan moved to the center of the pen, watching Prince and making mental notes for future training sessions.

  “See if you can get him to lope,” he instructed Gavin.

  Prince did, after significant urging. Even then, he refused to lead with his left leg. Training him would take patience and a strong hand. Ethan couldn’t wait. And once Prince was fully broke, his intelligence and reliable disposition proved, his value as a stud would increase.

  Gavin finished his ride. Ethan once again held Prince’s head so his brother could dismount without incident. The horse was doing well for a first day, but he was unpredictable at best, and it was wise to err on the side of caution.

  If anything, the crowd had grown in size. Caitlin, Ethan noticed, had yet to move from her spot at the fence.

  He went first out the gate, keeping the admirers at a safe distance while Gavin led the horse away. Ethan watched them go, his elation giving way to disappointment.

  They had agreed that Ethan would break the horse. In some ways, and on most days, he worked more closely with Prince than his brother did. But there was no doubt Gavin and the horse shared a special bond. It had been Gavin who’d tracked the horse for months and insisted on capturing him. Gavin who’d juggled the family’s finances so they could purchase Prince at auction, only to lose him to Clay. Gavin who’d set his differences aside in order to form a partnership with Clay that would benefit them both.

  Prince knew who was responsible for his cushy new lifestyle. From the moment they’d brought him to the ranch, he’d tolerated Gavin best, allowing him into his stall when no one else could get within ten feet of him. It had been Gavin’s j
acket pockets he nuzzled, searching for treats.

  Ethan wasn’t one to waste time envying others, but his brother did have it all. A beautiful, wonderful fiancée who came with a great kid. A terrific daughter. A job he loved. Loyal employees. Friends. Respect in the community. An incredible horse.

  Ethan wouldn’t mind having a few of those things for himself.

  A voice behind him roused him from his reverie.

  “Hell of a ride, pal!” A beaming Clay handed Ethan his hat.

  “We still have a long way to—”

  “I swear,” one of the wranglers interrupted Ethan, “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  Someone else shook his hand. Then another person. His father was there, too. Ethan didn’t remember seeing him at the round pen. The next thing he knew, he was pulled into a mighty bear hug.

  “I’m proud of you, son.”

  Ethan swallowed, his throat tightening. “Thanks, Dad.”

  He recalled a similar celebration when he’d just returned home from rehab. His father had expressed his pride then, too. But there had been an underlying sadness to the gathering of friends and family that dampened the mood.

  Ethan had been a wounded man.

  Now he was a warrior once again.

  And the person he wanted most to share this incredible moment with was Caitlin.

  Where had she gone?

  He searched for her, spotting her with Justin on the fringes of the now dispersing crowd. He made his way over to her, mindless of the people calling his name and tugging on his jacket sleeves.

  Justin’s boyish face lit with pleasure at the sight of Ethan. “Dude, that was awesome! I took pictures with my phone. Here, I’ll show you.” He started fiddling with the device. “Darn it,” he grumbled when the photos didn’t immediately fill the screen. “Hold on a second.”

  Ethan gave Caitlin a crooked smile. “Did you see?”

  “Yes.”

  He’d been so caught up with his ride and how great it had gone, he hadn’t really looked at her. She wasn’t smiling, and her brows were drawn together in a pronounced V.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.