Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish (Harlequin American Romance) (11 page)

“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.

E
THAN 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.

Caitlin stood 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.

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.

“Y
OU’RE HERE
!” C
AITLIN
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.”