Cathy Mcdavid - Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish

It hadn’t stopped there. The first thing Ethan had done when he returned home was reveal his intentions to start training horses again, his job before enlisting. His family had tried to dissuade him, but eventually came to understand his reasons and the need that drove him.

Since no respectable cowboy wore athletic shoes when he rode, Ethan had used some of the money he’d saved during his enlistment to purchase two pairs of custom-made boots that fit his prosthesis. Within a few weeks, he was riding, and suffering a whole new kind of torturous pain. With determination, practice and continual exercise, he found the pain eventually lessened, though he still had his days.

He didn’t start breaking horses until a chance meeting with Clay Duvall. Over beers at the local bar, his old friend had listened while Ethan outlined his ambitions. Then he’d offered him a job. In addition to the arena, Clay owned and operated a rodeo stock business that specialized in bucking horses.

The idea of competing again hadn’t occurred to Ethan until he’d watched the cowboys practicing at Clay’s arena. What started as a vague longing quickly grew into a burning desire. Ethan was tired of people looking at him differently. Tired of their sympathetic smiles.

Once he started competing again, all that would change.

Ignoring the pain, he pulled on his undershirt, then walked through the partially framed living room to the freshly painted bathroom, where he removed a bottle of ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet.

“You need a day off to rest up?” Gavin hollered from the kitchen.

“Hell, no.”

Both Ethan and his father worked alongside Gavin. With only thirty of the family’s original six hundred acres remaining in their possession, they’d turned their ranch into a public riding stable. Many Mustang Village residents boarded their horses, took riding lessons or went on guided trail rides at Powell Ranch.

In addition, they’d started the stud and breeding business last month, after capturing Prince, a wild mustang roaming the McDowell Mountains.

“Maybe you should take it easy today,” Gavin suggested, when Ethan returned to the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about me.” He glowered at his brother. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Prince is off his feed. I’d like you to take a look at him before I call the vet.”

“I will. Later.”

“I was hoping you could do it first thing.”

Ethan thought his brother babied the wild mustang too much. Then again, the future of their family business relied heavily on Prince and his ability to breed. While he’d successfully mated with several mares since his capture last month, it was still far too early to determine if any pregnancies had taken, much less what kind of foals he would produce.

Gavin studied him as Ethan downed the painkiller with a glass of water. “Have you considered seeing a doctor?”

“Caitlin told me the same thing.”

That got his brother’s attention. Instead of leaving, which was Ethan’s hope, Gavin pulled out a chair at the dining table, removed his hat and made himself at home.

Great.

“You saw her?” he asked.

“Last night. She’s working for Clay, running his first-aid station.”

“Interesting.”

Gavin’s expression reminded Ethan of their father and, he supposed, himself. The Powell men all looked enough alike that most people immediately recognized them as family.

“That’s what I thought, too,” Ethan said, recalling the shock he’d felt when he first saw Caitlin. “She also works mornings at the middle school and afternoons at the urgent-care clinic.”

“Uh-huh.”

His brother was sure taking the news in stride. Then it hit him. “You knew she was back, didn’t you?”

“We met when Cassie sprained her ankle in gym class, and the school called me to come pick her up.”

“That was weeks ago. And you’re only now telling me?”

“Figured it wasn’t my place.”

Another thought occurred to Ethan. “Caitlin ask you not to tell me?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“Did my name even come up?”

“We really didn’t have time to talk. She was busy, and Cassie was complaining about her ankle.”

Ethan started pacing the kitchen. Caitlin had known he’d returned to Mustang Valley and hadn’t bothered to look him up.

Did he really expect her to, after the way he’d treated her?

Probably not. Change that to hell, no.

“Look,” Gavin continued, “it just slipped my mind. I had a lot going on at the time. Capturing Prince. Starting the stud and breeding business. Sage and I getting engaged.”

“Right,” Ethan answered testily. He’d bet the entire contents of his wallet that running into Caitlin hadn’t slipped his brother’s mind. “I’m a big boy, bro. You don’t have to watch out for me.”

“Sorry. Old habits are hard to break.”

Not exactly an admission, but close.

“Answer me this,” Gavin said. “What would you have done if I told you she was back in town?”

“Apologize, for one.” Which, now that he thought about it, wasn’t something he’d done last night. “And make amends…if possible.” He owed her that much.

“You going to ask her out?”

“Are you kidding?”

“Why not?”

“Even if I did, she’d turn me down flat. Besides, she’s probably married by now.”

“She isn’t.”

Ethan stopped pacing. “How do you know?”

“The subject came up.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have much time to talk to her.”

“Doesn’t take long to say, ‘Hey, you ever get married?’”

Ethan groaned.

“What are you so mad about, anyway?”

Before he could reply, another knock sounded at the door.

“What now?” He stormed over and yanked the door open.

Clay stood on the other side. “You’re in a fine mood.” Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside. “I just came from Prince’s paddock. He hasn’t touched his food.”

“We’re heading there now,” Ethan grumbled, snatching his jacket off the back of the couch where he’d left it.

“Any more of that coffee left?”

“It’s instant,” Gavin complained from his seat at the table.

Clay drew back in surprise. “Don’t you have a coffeemaker?”

Ethan glared at him. “Don’t you?”

Clay glared back. “What’s bugging you?”

“He’s mad that I didn’t tell him Caitlin was working at the school.” Gavin rose from the table.

“Can we not discuss this?” Ethan headed for the door.

“You going to invite her out?”

He ignored Clay’s question.

“I already asked him that.” Gavin went to the sink and deposited his mug. “He says no.”

Annoyed, Ethan shoved an arm into the sleeve of his jacket, then swore loudly when his entire left side seized with fresh pain.

“How’s the shoulder?” Clay asked.

“Fine.” Ethan opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

Clay came up behind him. “You don’t act like it’s fine.”

“I’ll be all right.”

“What did Caitlin say last night?”

“Ice the shoulder and take ibuprofen. I’ve done both.”

“Did she tell you to see a doctor?”

“I don’t need to see a doctor.”

“Don’t believe him.” Gavin joined them on the porch, shutting the door behind him. “He’s hurting.”

Ethan anchored his hat to his head as a strong gust of wind swept past them on its way down the mountain to the valley.

“See a doctor,” Clay ordered. “Until you do, and until you’re cleared, no bronc riding.”

Ethan swung around. “Dammit, Clay!”

“Sorry. That’s the rule. Same for you as everyone else.”