Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish (Harlequin American Romance) (6 page)

“Put me down before you hurt yourself again.”

“I did it!”

“Ethan, please. Your shoulder.”

He released her. The moment her feet touched the ground, he lowered his mouth to hers, stopping a fraction of an inch shy of kissing her.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for the last three days.”

Three days? Was that all?

She’d been waiting the past eight years, eleven months and twenty-one days to kiss him.

Just like that, their years apart melted away. Ethan’s lips moved expertly over hers, applying just the right amount of pressure to coax a melting response from her. He’d always been an amazing kisser. That, or they were just amazing together. Their bodies fit perfectly. Her soft curves nestled against his hard planes as his arm circled her waist and drew her against him.

Caitlin was tempted to lose herself in his kiss. Set aside her worries and concerns and embrace the moment. And she did…until sanity returned, giving her a big, solid kick. The hoots and hollers of Ethan’s cowboy friends might have had something to do with it, too.

Just how many people were watching them?

Caitlin broke off the kiss and pressed a hand to her flaming cheek. Ethan didn’t appear the least bit embarrassed. Of course not.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” she stammered, and backed away.

Ethan started after her. “But it did happen,” he said in a low voice. “And for a minute there, you were liking it every bit as much as I did.”

Had they really kissed for more than a minute?

Wilting beneath stares from dozens of eyes, she executed a hasty retreat.

“Caitlin.” Ethan appeared beside her.

“I don’t want to talk.” She couldn’t. Her thoughts were in a jumble. She’d wind up saying something she’d regret. “Not now.” She brushed past him.

“I need— Wait up, Caitlin!”

Through the haze of fog surrounding her, she heard the note of urgency in Ethan’s voice. Still fuming, she almost didn’t stop.

Almost.

She spun around just in time to see him crumple, a look of pure agony on his face.

“Ethan! Are you all right?” Instinct took over, and she ran to him. Dropping to her knees, she touched his head and back with gentle fingers. “What happened?”

He pushed himself to a sitting position. “I thought you were mad at me.” Labored breathing punctuated each word.

“I am mad at you.”

His grimace turned into a lopsided smile. “Then how come you didn’t keep walking?”

“I’m a nurse.”

“That’s not why.”

She made a sound of frustration. “Are you hurt or not?”

“It’s my leg.”

“Did you sprain it?”

“No.” He groaned and shifted his weight.

Between their heated kiss and Ethan’s fall, they’d drawn a sizable audience. Some of Ethan’s friends expressed their concern and offered assistance.

“I’ll be all right,” he insisted. “My leg came loose in the fall.”

His prosthesis. Thank goodness that was all.

Two of his buddies hauled Ethan upright. Still grinning, he slung an arm around their shoulders.

“Where to?” the taller of the pair asked.

“The first-aid station.”

Caitlin hurried ahead of them to open the door and flip on the light. The men brought Ethan inside and deposited him in the same metal folding chair he’d sat in that first night.

“You need anything?” one friend asked.

“Naw, I’m fine.” He nodded at them both. “Appreciate the lift.”

The taller man tipped his hat at Caitlin and followed his buddy outside.

“What can I do?” she asked.

“I’ve got it.” Ethan didn’t exactly push her away, but he made it more than clear with his gesture and tone that he didn’t want her hovering. Bracing his hands on the chair seat, he managed to stand, though unsteadily. His loose prosthesis hung at an odd angle in front of him.

She rushed forward, stopping short when he snapped, “I’ve got it!”

“Okay.”

Patients often refused help. She had learned to navigate the fine line between respecting their wishes and providing the care they needed. She watched him intently from beside the table, ready to jump in if necessary.

With his free hand, he reached for his belt buckle and unfastened it with a flick of his wrist.

Her breath caught. “What are you doing?”

“Putting my leg back on.”

Naturally. How silly of her.

In order to get at his prosthesis, he had to remove his pants. There was no other way.

What had she been thinking?

Once he had his jeans unzipped, he slid them down his hips and sat back in the chair. His shirttails covered him. Only the lower part of his blue—blue?—boxer shorts was visible. Caitlin averted her gaze, concentrating on his feet.

The prosthesis, caught in the pant leg, didn’t cooperate. Without thinking, she knelt in front of him and grabbed it by the boot.

“You don’t have to.” Ethan’s hands grappled with hers.

“Let me,” she said softly. “Please.”

She lifted her face to his. She could read in his eyes how
difficult this was for him. He didn’t want people seeing him at his most vulnerable.

Gripping the hem, she pushed the prosthesis back up his pant leg.

Ethan didn’t move at first. Then, taking hold of the prosthesis around the cup, he fitted it to his stump. There was a quiet whoosh as air escaped. When he was done, he secured the elastic cuff, which had slipped off during his fall.

She said nothing, knowing the more professional she acted, the easier it would be for Ethan. Easier for her, too.

As soon as he was done, they both stood. She placed a hand on his lower back to steady him while he pulled up his jeans and tucked in his shirt.

“Thank you,” he said, buckling his belt.

“That’s why I’m here, and what Clay pays me for.”

“Is that the only reason?” He pinned her in place with those dark brown eyes of his.

If only she could lie. Say that helping him was just her job. Nothing more.

But her mouth refused to listen to her brain’s instructions. What they’d just shared had in some ways been more intimate than their earlier kiss. To lie would be dishonoring that moment and the undeniable, yet impossible, connection they shared.

“No, Ethan. It’s not the only reason.” She straightened, set her mouth in a resolute line. “But we both know it should be.”

Ethan stood outside the round pen. He’d been up since five this morning, working with Prince. His deadline for breaking the mustang, as he’d told Justin the other day, was fast approaching, and he was determined to make some real progress. After two patience-testing hours, ones that aggravated his shoulder considerably, Ethan had the saddle blanket on Prince’s back, along with a lightweight pack saddle.

Prince didn’t like either, and alternately trotted and loped in circles as if he could outrun them. Each time he stopped, he glared menacingly at Ethan.

“Not yet, pal. A little while longer.”

Prince stomped his left foot, then started trotting again.

Gavin came up beside Ethan. “I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be. The pack saddle may be on his back, but he’s far from accepting it.”

Prince came to an abrupt halt across from them. Reaching his head around, he took hold of the blanket with his teeth and gave an angry yank. Ethan imagined Prince trying that same move with his pant leg when he finally managed to mount the horse.

“You ready to help me with that wagon before Caitlin gets here?” he asked.

Gavin hitched his chin at Prince. “What are the chances
that blanket will be in shreds and the pack saddle in pieces when we get back?”

Prince was now sniffing the cinch holding the saddle in place, and making irritated snuffling sounds.

“I bet he’ll quiet down the second we’re gone,” Ethan said.

“Hmm.”

“He always has to put on a show. Let everyone know how tough he is.”

“He’s not the only one.”

“Are you referring to me?” They set out in the direction of the old cattle barn.

“I heard about your fall last night.”

“Did you also hear I qualified for the jackpot?”

“I did. And congratulations. So, how badly were you hurt?”

“My leg came loose is all.”

“Is that why Caitlin kissed you?”

Now it was Ethan’s turn to grin. “It was more the other way around. I kissed her.”

“Clay said she didn’t act like she objected.”

“He was there?” Ethan scratched his head. “Really?” What else had he missed when all his attention was riveted on Caitlin?

“Am I to assume the two of you are back together?”

“No. She’s made it pretty clear there’s no chance of that.”

“Then why the kiss?”

“I’d just finished my ride. And she looked really pretty. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Be careful you don’t hurt her again.”

Ethan had been having similar thoughts. But then he’d recall Caitlin’s lips, soft and pliant and molding to his. She might be resisting him at every turn, but there was no denying her response.

She still cared, and the knowledge pleased Ethan enormously.

As far as what he’d felt when she’d helped him with his prosthesis, he still wasn’t sure. Not since his last visit to the VA hospital had he allowed anyone to view his prosthesis up close, much less touch it. He could argue Caitlin was a nurse, but that wasn’t the reason he’d accepted her help.

He trusted her. Simple as that. Unfortunately, she didn’t trust him in return.

It was a situation he intended to rectify.

He and his brother spent ten minutes unburying the wagon, and another ten rearranging the surrounding junk, as Gavin called it. They were just rolling the wagon into the open area near the horse-bathing rack when Caitlin’s minivan pulled up, an older model sedan following in its wake. Ethan was surprised to see Justin in the passenger seat of her van, considering she didn’t want him anywhere near horses.

“Hi.” She greeted Ethan and Gavin with a bright smile that revealed nothing other than her delight at finding the wagon ready for her crew of volunteers to clean, repair and decorate.

Introductions were made. Four helpers beside Justin had accompanied Caitlin—an older man, a middle-aged woman and a couple in their early twenties who were obviously boyfriend and girlfriend. That relationship didn’t prevent Justin’s gaze from constantly traveling to the young woman.

Poor guy. He looked on the verge of falling head over heels for a woman who was completely unavailable.

Ethan was no different.

“I’m going to check on Prince,” Gavin said after a bit. “Nice to meet you all.”

Ethan probably didn’t need to hang around the volunteers, either, but he couldn’t make himself leave.

The older man proved to be quite handy with a hammer,
wrench and electric drill. Together, he and Ethan repaired the broken wheel, cracked seat and loose running board. They also replaced a half-dozen missing bolts. The rest of the volunteers cleaned—and cleaned. Ten years of neglect had resulted in a mountain of dust, dirt and grime.

“Would it be all right if we gave the wagon a fresh coat of paint?” Caitlin asked. “We’d buy the paint, of course.”

“Sure. As long as you use John Deere green.”

She laughed. “I think we can manage that. It’ll go perfectly with the wreaths and Christmas lights.”

The volunteers were taking a well-deserved break, refueling with doughnuts the older gentleman had brought.

“Justin seems taken with Tamiko,” Ethan said. He and Caitlin sat on a pair of old crates, away from the rest of the volunteers.

“I noticed that, too.” She cast a worried glance at her brother, who maneuvered his wheelchair in order to be closer to the young woman. “I hope she doesn’t break his heart.”

“Looks to me like she’s more interested in him than she is in her boyfriend.”

Justin was holding the hose and filling a bucket with water while Tamiko poured in a capful of liquid soap. There was no mistaking the exchange of smiles and frequent eye contact.

“Tamiko’s a sweet, funny girl,” Caitlin said. “But to be honest, I don’t think Justin stands a chance with her.”

“Because she already has a boyfriend?”

“That—” Caitlin turned back to Ethan “—and because he’s in a wheelchair.”

“Don’t underestimate him. Or her.”

She said nothing, perhaps because this conversation had started to sound too much like the one they’d had in his bunkhouse earlier in the week.

They finished their doughnuts and spent the next sev
eral minutes watching an advanced riding class in the arena. Their break would soon be over, and Ethan didn’t think he’d have another chance to speak to Caitlin alone.

“About last night…”

She immediately straightened. “We both agreed kissing was a mistake.”

“I didn’t agree.”

“Ethan.” She looked over at her crew of volunteers before continuing. “Can we discuss this later?”

“When later?”

“I brought my table and duffel bag. We can have another PT session today if you’re available.”

“After what you said, I assumed we weren’t continuing.”

“I told you, a deal’s a deal.” She gathered up their trash. “Besides, you need physical therapy if that shoulder’s going to heal properly.”

He did need it, what with the jackpot only a week away.

And the prospect of Caitlin’s hands on him, even if they frequently caused him excruciating pain, was too appealing to resist.

C
AITLIN WAVED GOODBYE
to her brother and friends. Had she been wrong, making arrangements for Justin to return home without her? He sat in the backseat next to Tamiko. Her boyfriend, for some reason, occupied the front passenger seat. Given his angry glare, he wasn’t too happy about the arrangement.

Tamiko was only being nice, Caitlin told herself. She wouldn’t intentionally lead Justin on. But he was following nonetheless.

Work on the wagon had gone well, better than Caitlin had expected. Her emotional state, however, was in turmoil…a continuation from the previous night and this afternoon.

She should avoid Ethan, her common sense urged. The
problem was they had an agreement, one that would bring them together often in the coming weeks.

The prospect unsettled her. Made her a little nervous.

It also thrilled her.

Telling herself over and over that she was here for one reason only, she returned to her minivan and drove it to the bunkhouse. Ethan wasn’t there. He’d left after bidding Caitlin’s friends and brother goodbye. She could see him in the round pen across the way, unsaddling Prince under Gavin’s watchful eye. Unless she was mistaken, the horse wasn’t making much of a fuss.

A step in the right direction.

Hopefully, Prince would be as gentle when the day came for Ethan to ride him.

He’d been lucky last night at the rodeo arena. Very lucky. His next fall could end differently.

She carried her portable table from the van to the bunkhouse, determined to complete the task before Ethan showed up and did it for her. Again. When he arrived a few minutes later, Caitlin, the table and her duffel bag were all waiting on the porch.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, nudging the door open with his good shoulder.

He kept his left arm tucked close to his chest, as he had all morning. What was wrong with her? She should have insisted he leave all the wagon repairs to her crew. But then she wouldn’t have enjoyed his company for over two hours.

It reminded her a little of their senior year in high school, when she’d coerced him into helping her with decorations for the winter formal. He’d hated it, and his football teammates had ridiculed him. Still, he’d done everything she’d asked, and though she hadn’t appreciated him as much as she should have, she’d never forgotten.

“Have you been icing your shoulder twice a day and taking ibuprofen?”

“Yes, Nurse Carmichael,” he teased.

“How much did it hurt last night?”

“Before or after my ride?”

“Both.”

“It hurt before. A lot more after.”

“Didn’t appear to affect your ride much. You lasted eight seconds.”

“The horse was having a slow night.” Ethan unbuttoned his long-sleeved work shirt, wincing slightly as he peeled it off. “I won’t be nearly so fortunate next time.”

After only one PT session, he pretty much knew the drill and completed the exercises with minimal instruction from her. She was glad to see he’d found the old set of weights and was using them. His range of motion, she observed, had improved minimally.

When he finished with the exercises, she patted the table. “Ready?”

He hopped on, then lay on his back. “You going to your parents’ house for Thanksgiving?” he asked once she began rotating his arm.

She remembered from their first session that Ethan liked to talk during therapy. Justin did, too. It probably helped them tolerate the pain better. Except she wasn’t fooled. The strain in their voices along with clenched jaws and muscle tremors gave them away.

“Actually, they’re going to my aunt and uncle’s in Green Valley.”

“Don’t your relatives usually come up here?”

“Not this year. Uncle Lee just had back surgery and can’t handle a long drive. They invited me and Justin. He hasn’t decided for sure, but I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

“I’m scheduled to work at the clinic Wednesday evening and will be here Friday morning to work on the wagon. Driving to Green Valley and back in one day is too much for me. I’ll be wiped out.”

“If you want,” Ethan said through gritted teeth as she applied more pressure, “come to the house for dinner.”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“Trust me, you won’t be. Dad and Sage are doing all the cooking. Can’t guarantee you won’t get stuck with cleanup duty.”

How many times had she done exactly that after dinner with the Powells? Too many to count. “I don’t know…?.”

“This will be our first Thanksgiving dinner in nine years.”

She didn’t think he was trying to make her feel guilty as much as expressing his pleasure that the family had finally moved on enough after his mother’s death to celebrate the holidays.

“Thank you.” She lifted his arm high over his head. “But I’d better not.”

“Is it because I kissed you last night?”

“Yes.” That was only partially true. The bigger reason was that she’d kissed him back. Enthusiastically. “It wouldn’t be right encouraging you when there’s no hope of us ever…picking up where we left off.” She couldn’t bring herself to say
falling in love again.

“My bronc riding,” he said flatly.

“I explained already. And now that you’ve qualified for the jackpot, I’m assuming there’s no chance you’ll give it up.”

“None.”

“Turn on your right side,” she instructed, hoping the change in position would put an end to their conversation.

It didn’t.

“I care about you, Caitlin. And I think you still care about me.”

“Of course I do. Just not like I used to.”

“Then why are you always putting up your guard whenever we’re together?”

“I’m a nurse.” Lifting his shoulder off the table with one hand, she pushed down on his elbow with the other. “You’re my patient.”

“It’s also easier to deny your feelings when you distance yourself.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I don’t think so.”

The wound she’d believed long healed suddenly tore open, catching her unawares and leaving her feeling vulnerable. “I was devastated when you left.”

That got a reaction from him—he winced.

Then again, her fingers were digging with excessive force into the soft tissue surrounding his shoulder.

“I don’t regret enlisting, only how I handled telling you.” His voice seemed to hold genuine regret.

“What about losing your leg?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather that hadn’t happened. But I was luckier than a lot of soldiers. At least I came home.”

“I’d have gone with you.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“Even if we were married?”

“I wanted to ask you.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Emotion thickened her voice.

“I was afraid something would happen to me. That I’d be killed and you’d be all alone. Like my father was after my mother died.”

“Isn’t that what you did? Left me alone? Only, instead of dying, you took off.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment, and Caitlin relaxed her grip, the tension seeping out of both of them as she massaged his shoulder, upper arm and back.

Lying on his side, his eyes closed, the dim light softening his features, he looked seventeen again. Caitlin’s anger faded, and she felt vulnerable all over, but for different reasons.