Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish. Cathy McDavid

Ethan made their way to the door. “We really haven’t talked much other than about setting up the first-aid station.”

       “Huh. I thought maybe you and he…”

       “He and I what?”

       “Had kept in touch.” Ethan stepped aside, allowing her to precede him outside.

       “We did up until he got married and moved away. I had no idea he was divorced and back in town.”

       “Then how did you wind up working for him?”

       “He showed up at the school last Wednesday and asked me to run the first-aid station.”

       “Have you been at the school long?” They stopped beside her minivan.

       “You really don’t know?”

       “Should I?”

       “I thought maybe someone told you.”

       Mustang Village was a horse-friendly residential community, built in and named after Mustang Valley, the land Ethan’s family had once owned, and where they had raised cattle for four generations. Their ranch, what was left of it, lay nestled in the foothills of the McDowell Mountains, and looked down on the village. Caitlin didn’t think much happened that the Powells didn’t know about.

       She’d certainly heard about Ethan’s injury, medical discharge and return home.

       “I’ve worked at the school since August,” she told him.

       “That long?” he said, more to himself than her.

       “Clay told me you’re breaking horses for him.”

       “Trying to.” Another half smile appeared. “Some of them aren’t embracing the process.”

       “If anyone can change their minds, you can.” Again she wondered how he managed such a physically demanding job. “Is your sister still living in San Francisco?”

       “For five years now.”

       “But she visits, right?”

       “Used to. Not much the last couple years.”

       “That’s too bad.”

       “Sierra being gone so much is hard on Dad. He misses her. Misses Mom, too. Though he’s doing a lot better lately since Cassie came to live with us. He’s crazy about her.”

       Caitlin had met Ethan’s twelve-year-old niece at the school. “I don’t imagine recovering from the death of a loved one is ever easy.”

       “It’s not.”

       The mention of his late mother put a damper on their conversation. It was right after Louise Powell died that Ethan had abruptly enlisted, leaving Caitlin to suffer the loss of not only a dear friend, but the love of her life.

       A painful pressure built inside her chest.

       Heartache.

       It had been a long time since the memory of those unhappy days had caused such a profound physical reaction.

       “How’s your brother?” Ethan asked. “Gavin told me about the accident.”

       More pressure.

       Discussing Justin was always hard for Caitlin. No matter how many obstacles he overcame and how many challenges he conquered, she could never forget that she was responsible for him being a paraplegic and having to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.

       “He’s graduating from Arizona State in December,” she said, focusing on the positive. “With a master’s in education.”

       “Good for him.”

       “We’re all very proud. Now if he can just land a job.”

       “It’s a tough economy.”

       “That, too.”

       Great strides had been made in the last few decades when it came to equal rights for handicapped employees, but Caitlin still worried about her brother’s chances at finding decent employment.

       Ethan distracted her by reaching into the back of her minivan and removing a carton of supplies.

       “Hey, what are you doing?” She tried to take the box from him.

       He swung it out of her reach. “Helping you unload.”

       “Ethan!” She sighed with exasperation. “You’re hurt.”

       “My shoulder. Not my hands.” He squeezed past her and carried his load inside.

       She hurried after him.

       “Where do you want this?”

       Because she knew arguing with him was useless, she pointed to the folding table along the wall. “There. And don’t even think about carrying anything else in.”

       He not only thought about it, he did it. She gave up and pitched in. Together, they quickly emptied the van.

       “You’re going to regret this tomorrow,” she told him when they were done.

       “You were never such a worrier before.”

       “It comes from being a nurse. So does being bossy.” She leveled a finger at him. “Now get yourself home and take care of that shoulder.”

       “Yes, ma’am.” One corner of his mouth lifted in an amused and very compelling grin.

       Caitlin’s heart fluttered. No doubt about it, the attraction hadn’t died.

       With the van unloaded, there was no reason for him to remain.

       “Will I see you later?” she asked.

       “Tomorrow, if you’re here.”

       The thought shouldn’t have appealed to her as much as it did. Ethan had hurt her. Terribly. She’d be wise to take care where he was concerned.

       Even so, a sweet rush of anticipation cascaded through her.

       “I’m sure Clay can do without you training his horses for a couple of days.”

       “Probably.” Ethan buttoned his denim jacket. “I’m the one who can’t do without the practicing.”

       “Practicing for what?”

       “The jackpot.”

       She stared at him blankly. “You’re not competing.”

       “I am. Or I will be if I can last a full eight seconds at least once before then. Clay won’t let me enter otherwise.”

       “Is that how you fell tonight? Bull riding?”

       “No, saddle bronc.”

       “Are you crazy?”

       “A little, I suppose,” he said jokingly.

       “More than a little.” She started to remind him that he had only one good leg, then stopped herself. “Bronc riding is dangerous. I really wish you’d reconsider.”

       “Not a chance.” He turned to go, then paused. “I’m glad you’re home, Caitlin.”

       A few minutes ago, such a statement would have elicited a breathy sigh from her, foolish though it may have been.

       Not now.

       He was saddle bronc riding again. With a prosthetic leg! Why didn’t he just jump off a three-story building? The results would be the same.

       Caitlin had cheered Ethan on from the sidelines all those years ago. She’d also encouraged him the same way she’d encouraged her brother. Winning competitions required a certain amount of risk, after all.

       She’d learned too late that taking risks came with a steep price. In her case, her brother, Justin, was the one to pay.