Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish (Harlequin American Romance)

by Mcdavid, Cathy

  Cassie and Isa, dressed in elf costumes, complete with fake pointed ears, assisted Mrs. Claus with crowd control.

  “I still can’t believe how many people are here.” Caitlin stepped aside to let another customer purchase tickets from Sage.

  “There’ll be a lot more tomorrow night, I bet.”

  The festival was scheduled for a full three days, as long as the weather held, which the forecasts predicted it would. Friday night, all day Saturday, and Sunday till four.

  Caitlin couldn’t be more pleased with the attendance and the positive feedback she’d been receiving. The hard work of the various committee members and crews of energetic volunteers was paying off.

  “Excuse me.” A woman leaned around Caitlin. “Four tickets, please.”

  “This wagon is full,” Sage apologized with a bright smile. “You’ll have to wait for the next ride, in about half an hour.”

  “How’s Ethan holding up?” Caitlin asked Sage when the woman left, tickets for the next ride clutched in her gloved fist.

  “You haven’t talked to him tonight?”

  “Not yet.”

  Caitlin didn’t admit she’d seen him only once since the previous weekend, when he’d taken her for a drive in the wagon, and that was for a PT session. Nor did she admit how much he’d been on her mind. It seemed for a while there they’d been seeing each other every few days. Lately, hardly at all.

  She missed him.

  A small part of her wondered if she’d acted too hastily when she’d told him there was no chance for a reconciliation.

  “He’s fine,” Sage said. “Though I bet he’ll be exhausted by tomorrow night. Driving a wagon is more tiring than you might think, and it takes hours and hours to get ready. He’s been at it since noon. Grooming the horses. Cleaning the harnesses. He even washed and ironed his shirt.” She winked at Caitlin. “I like a man who does his own laundry.”

  “Is his shoulder holding up?”

  “He hasn’t complained.”

  “He wouldn’t.”

  “You’re right about that. He’s still doing his exercises, or so he says.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Where’d all the customers go?” Sage glanced around. “Oh, well.” She used the lull to transfer money from the cash box to a press-and-seal plastic bag. “If I give you my keys, would you mind running this to my truck for me? It’s in the parking lot. I don’t like sitting here with all this cash.”

  “Glad to,” Caitlin said. The stack of bills Sage stuffed in the bag, mostly small denominations, was three inches thick. “Wow, that is a lot of money.”

  “I’m hoping by the end of the weekend we’ll have enough collected to bring two mustangs down from the Bureau of Land Management facility in Show Low. Our first foster horses for the sanctuary.”

  “Are they injured?” Caitlin tucked the bag of money inside her jacket and out of sight.

  “Only superficial wounds sustained during the roundup.”

  Caitlin really didn’t have a reason to stick around talking to Sage, other than she enjoyed the company. She just couldn’t bring herself to leave while the wagon was still parked at the corner.

  While Ethan was nearby.

  As she watched, he clucked to Molly and Dolly and set out amid whoops and cheers from his passengers, the sleigh bells jingling and the lights blinking.

  Caitlin attempted a smile, but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate.

  What was wrong with her?

  Sage paid no attention and continued prattling on about the foster mustangs.

  “These two horses are what the BLM considers unadoptable. Even with a reduced price of twenty-five dollars each, no one would purchase them.”

  “Why? Are they mean?”

  “No, just wild and not adapting to confinement. But they’re so beautiful and spirited. I’m convinced, with the right training, they can make really nice horses for someone. Ethan’s skills will be tested for sure.”

  “He’ll train them?”

  Of course he would, Caitlin thought, answering her own question. He broke rodeo stock for Clay and green horses for the Powells’ clients.

  “He did a fantastic job with Prince,” Sage declared. “You won’t believe how well that horse is doing. You should come out to the ranch and see him.”

  “Prince wasn’t unadoptable.”

  “He was wild,” Sage explained. “Living in the mountains. You can’t get much more unadoptable than that.”

  “If these mustangs aren’t adapting, are you sure it’s safe for Ethan to try and train them?”

  “As if I could keep him away.”

  As if anyone could. Certainly not Caitlin.

  …when what I really want to do is make love to you.

  How often had she heard him say that in her head this past week?

  What would it be like making love with him now? she wondered. Different from when they were younger, certainly. They weren’t the same people anymore.

  Discovering the changes would be interesting. Exciting. Thrilling.

  Enough was enough. She wasn’t getting back together with Ethan, and she definitely wasn’t going to have sex with him.

  She patted the bank bag inside her jacket. “I’ll put this in your truck and be right back.”

  “No hurry.”

  While Caitlin was crossing the parking lot, she glimpsed the wagon with its multicolored lights and excited passengers. It was a charming sight, one straight off the front of a Christmas card.

  Ethan really was working his tail off for the committee.

  For her.

  She should do something for him, she decided. A token of appreciation.

  Nothing personal. It wasn’t as if she was trying to bridge the distance that had developed between them.

  When she returned to the table, Clay was there. Caitlin arrived just as he was pulling Sage out of her chair and into his arms.

  “Congratulations,” he boomed.

  She laughed and pushed him away. “Who told you?”

  “Who do you think?”

  “What’s going on?” Caitlin asked, her interest piqued.

  “Nothing.” Sage took the keys from Caitlin’s outstretched hand, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson and her eyes sparkling.

  “Come on. Something’s up. Tell me.”

  “Tell her,” Clay coaxed. “You know you want to.”

  Sage sighed. “I was going to make an appointment at the clinic next week, so I suppose you’d have found out eventually.”

  “You’re pregnant!” Caitlin guessed.

  “Not so loud.” Sage placed a finger to her lips. “I haven’t told Isa yet.”

  “I’m so happy for you!” Caitlin reached across the table and clasped Sage’s hands in hers.

  “We were going to wait. It was an accident.”

  “The best kind of accident.”

  They didn’t have much time to talk because a large group of Red Hat ladies descended upon them. Clay convinced the women to add another ten dollars to their donation.

  When they left, Sage asked him, “How’s that cowboy who got hurt?”

  “Better.”

  Caitlin stilled. “Who got hurt?”

  “Micky Lannon,” Clay said.

  “Micky?” The father of the little girl with the cut knee. “What happened?” she demanded.

  “He got bucked off last night.”

  “From a horse?”

  “A bull.” Clay and Caitlin continued their conversation while Sage passed out flyers. “Broke his leg in three places. They had to operate this morning, insert some pins. I just came from the hospital. He’s going to be released tomorrow.”

  “Poor guy.” Caitlin pressed her hands to her cheeks. “How’s his wife holding up?”

  “All right, I think.”

  “What about his job?”

  “He’s taking a medical leave of absence. Six to eight weeks.”

  Caitlin wished she had been there to help. Unfortunately, Clay had
hired her only for jackpots and rodeo events, not regular practices. There probably wasn’t much she could have done anyway. Not with a break that severe.

  “What about health insurance?”

  “He has it.”

  Even with coverage, there would be costs. Hefty costs. And he’d be out of work almost two months, which would put a strain on his family and finances. He should have thought of that before climbing on a bull.

  “The men are taking up a collection for him. Didn’t Ethan tell you?”

  Why did everyone think she and Ethan spoke on a regular basis?

  “No. I haven’t seen him recently.” Even if she had, she doubted he’d have mentioned Micky’s fall, knowing how upset she’d get.

  “Can I interest you two lovely ladies in a hot chocolate?” Clay asked.

  “Mmm.” Sage rubbed her palms together. “Yes, please. It’s getting chilly.”

  Caitlin was so engrossed in her thoughts she barely noticed Clay leaving.

  Her mind raced. It could have easily been Ethan in the hospital, recovering from a serious surgery. Her chest constricted at the image of him lying with his leg—his one good leg—elevated in a fiberglass cast.

  She couldn’t bear it if he was hurt like that.

  A moan of distress involuntarily escaped her lips.

  “Caitlin? You okay?”

  She looked over to discover Sage staring at her, a curious expression on her face.

  “YOU’RE HERE!” CAITLIN hurried over to Justin and her parents. She’d spotted them in the parking lot while making yet another money run to Sage’s truck. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

  “Sorry, I got stuck at the office.” Her dad slung his arms around Caitlin and her mother. “How soon till the festival closes?”

  “Nine.”

  He whistled. “Doesn’t give us much time.”

  The lateness of the hour and the dropping temperature had no effect on the crowd. People were still arriving in droves.

  “Is Tamiko here?” Justin asked, wheeling along beside Caitlin.

  That didn’t take long.

  “Yes. But so is what’s-his-name.”

  What was his name? Eric, right?

  The presence of Tamiko’s boyfriend didn’t appear to deter Justin. “Hook up with you later,” he said, and was gone.

  “Who is this Tamiko?” Caitlin’s mother asked in a concerned tone. “He hasn’t mentioned her before.”

  “One of my volunteers. They met at the ranch when we were decorating the wagon.”

  Typical father, her dad asked, “Is she pretty?”

  Typical mother, her mom asked, “Is she nice?”

  “Both.” Caitlin laughed. “And she likes Justin.”

  There was just the matter of that pesky boyfriend.

  The three of them strolled to the festival grounds. Caitlin often marveled at how easily her parents had adjusted to her brother’s loss of mobility and independent lifestyle. Sure, they had worried when he was first injured. And periodically in the years since, especially when he moved away from home and into his own apartment. But never for long, it seemed.

  Caitlin was the one who fretted. The one who couldn’t cut the apron strings.

  Then again, she was the one consumed with guilt over Justin’s paralysis. How could her parents, knowing the part she’d played, love her as they did, forgive her as they had?

  Justin, too.

  Her mother stopped to take everything in. “Are the wagon rides still going on?”

  “There’s one more at least, maybe two.”

  “We’d better hurry and buy our tickets.” She was off, leaving Caitlin and her father in the dust.

  When they reached the table, Caitlin’s dad purchased the last two tickets and gave a very large donation that had Sage practically in tears. “Thank you, Mr. Carmichael. Mrs. Carmichael. Can I add you to our list of newsletter subscribers?”

  Caitlin could tell one more foster mustang would be arriving from Show Low.

  “Too bad Justin’s going to miss out,” Caitlin’s mother mused. “He’d enjoy the wagon ride.”

  “He’s going,” Sage said brightly. “He bought a ticket right before you.”

  “Wonderful.”

  No, it wasn’t.

  Apparently Caitlin was the only one who wondered how he’d get up into the wagon without a lift, and how embarrassing it might be for him with all these strangers watching.

  “Doug, let’s check out the craft tables while we’re waiting.” Her mother latched on to her husband’s arm.

  “Send a search party if we’re not back in three days,” he called to Caitlin.

  “Any chance I can recruit you to help me tomorrow night?” Sage asked as they walked away.

  “Sure. I was planning on being here, anyway.”

  Ten minutes later, the wagon returned from its run, the passengers singing Christmas carols. By the time Ethan reined the horses to a stop at the drop-off point, dozens more people milling nearby had joined in with the carolers.

  Cheer spread from person to person, carried by a smile.

  Caitlin felt her own mouth curve up at the corners. She had spent considerable effort and energy working on the festival. This was, however, the first moment she’d felt truly touched by the Christmas spirit.

  She sought out Ethan. He must have sensed her gaze on him because he turned and looked at her…and kept looking. The warmth within her that had started with the caroling continued to build.

  Ethan was responsible for this wondrous night. She’d asked for his help and, as always, he’d given it. Unconditionally. Even during the past couple weeks when she’d been avoiding him as much as possible.

  She wanted to give him a gift of appreciation—and affection. And suddenly she knew just what it would be.

  “We’d better hurry.” Caitlin’s mother carried three plastic sacks, last-minute Christmas purchases from the craft tables. “Where on earth is Justin?”

  The passengers had stopped singing and were climbing down from the wagon one by one, their faces radiant. They exchanged greetings with people lining up for the next ride.

  “Here he comes,” Caitlin’s dad said.

  She saw her brother wheeling toward them. Tamiko walked beside him. They made a striking couple, Justin with his fair complexion, Tamiko with her long black hair and exotic beauty.

  Not a couple, Caitlin reminded herself.

  Where was her boyfriend, Eric?

  “Who’s this?” her mother asked when Justin and Tamiko joined them in line, even though Caitlin had already told her.

  Tamiko put out her hand. “Hi. I’m Justin’s friend Tamiko.”

  Justin’s friend? Not, Caitlin thought, one of the festival volunteers.

  “Nice to meet you.” Caitlin’s mother’s eyes were bright with curiosity. “Do you attend ASU, too?”

  Justin stared at Tamiko with such raw longing, Caitlin couldn’t bring herself to watch them. He’d get hurt if he wasn’t careful, and there was nothing she or anyone could do to prevent it.

  “You coming, honey?” her father asked.

  “I didn’t buy a ticket.”

  “They won’t charge you. Not with all the work you’ve put in.”

  She could always give Sage a donation tomorrow night.

  And the wagon ride would be fun. “Sure, why not?”

  Caitlin and her family fell into line. The wagon, with its hay bale seats, could easily accommodate ten people and two or three small children sitting on laps. Another person, usually an older child or teenager, rode shotgun next to Ethan.

  While the passengers boarded, he stood, stretched and rolled his bad shoulder. It must have been an arduous day for him.

  Justin wheeled to the rear of the wagon and waited for a woman with incredibly inappropriate stilettos to be hoisted up by her husband.

  Caitlin had to intervene. “Dad, are you going to help Justin?”

  “If he asks me.”

  “Aren’t you concerned ho
w he’ll get in the wagon?”

  “Not as much as you are.”

  She grumbled to herself. They could possibly fit the wheelchair into the bed if a bale of hay was removed. That would require a pair of strong arms.

  “You first,” Justin told Tamiko.

  “Hey, what gives?” Her boyfriend abruptly stepped in front of them. Had he been there all along? “He’s not riding with us.”

  “Yes, he is,” Tamiko answered coolly.

  “I bought a ticket, dude.” Justin held up an orange stub.

  “Yeah? Well, news flash, dude. No room for your wheels.”

  “I’m not hooked to this chair by wires,” Justin said with a chuckle.

  Caitlin willed herself not to say anything. She’d interfered before, only to incur her brother’s anger. He insisted on fighting his own battles.

  Her parents didn’t appear to be concerned. They watched their son closely but made no move in his direction.

  “Come on, Tamiko.” Her boyfriend snatched her hand.

  “What about Justin?”

  “You heard him. He’s not hooked to that chair.”

  The other passengers had all boarded and were watching the scene unfolding before them with rabid interest.

  “This is better than reality TV,” one woman said.

  The hell with making Justin mad. Caitlin had reached her limit. “Okay, guys—”

  “Stay out of it,” her father ordered.

  “Dad!”

  “I mean it, honey.”

  “I’m not leaving Justin,” Tamiko said stubbornly.

  “You’d pick him over me?” Eric demanded.

  “We’re friends. Why can’t you be nice?”

  “This is stupid.” Caitlin took a step forward.

  A large, strong hand on her arm pulled her back. She pivoted, intending to tell her father they should—

  It wasn’t her dad restraining her. It was Ethan.

  “Let me handle this,” he said, and brushed past her.

  Caitlin started to follow.

  “Young lady!” Her father’s stern voice stopped her in her tracks. “What did I tell you? Butt out.”