Her Cowboy's Christmas Wish. Cathy McDavid
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“I never played sports before, either.” He slapped the arm of his wheelchair. “Turns out I’m pretty good.”
“What do you like?” Ethan asked.
“Basketball. Baseball. Swimming. I’m considering taking up track and field.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Well, I couldn’t do any of it without Caitlin’s help. She’s amazing.”
Did Caitlin pay for her brother’s athletic expenses? Ethan wondered. That would explain the three jobs and why she worked fifty to sixty hours a week.
“You’ll do fine at riding, then,” he assured him.
Caitlin removed her cell phone from her sweatshirt pocket and checked the display. “It’s getting late.”
After a last look at Prince, the three of them returned to the stables, Justin chatting enthusiastically about riding and Caitlin stubbornly silent.
When they reached her minivan, Justin hoisted himself into the front passenger seat.
“I’ll get that,” Ethan offered, and carried the wheelchair to the rear of the minivan, where Caitlin had the hatch open.
She closed it the second he’d stowed the chair. “See you Saturday.”
“What about physical therapy?” If he was keeping his end of the bargain, she needed to keep hers. “I’d like to start right away.”
“I don’t get off at the clinic until seven-thirty most nights.”
“Eight’s fine,” he said, ignoring her attempts to postpone. “If it’s not too late for you.” He rose at the crack of dawn and assumed she did, too, what with her schedule.
“No, eight’s okay.” She peered nervously at her brother, who was busy with his MP3 player. “We can start tonight.”
“Anything special I should have on hand?”
“I’ll bring my portable table. We can set up just about anywhere.”
“Okay. Drive straight to the bunkhouse and park there.”
“The bunkhouse?”
“I live there now. Moved out of the main house so Sage and Isa can move in.”
“O…kay.”
“If you don’t want to be alone with me—”
“It makes no difference,” she answered tersely.
Somehow, Ethan thought it did. He just wasn’t sure why.
Chapter Four
“Easy, boy.” Ethan held on to Prince’s lead rope, gripping it securely beneath the halter. “That’s right, there you go.” He ran his other hand down the horse’s neck, over his withers and across his back, applying just the slightest amount of pressure. Prince stood, though not quietly. He bobbed his head and swished his tail nervously.
On the ground beside Ethan lay a saddle blanket, which he hoped Prince would allow to be placed on his back. The step was a small but important one toward breaking the horse. If Caitlin arrived on time, she’d be able to watch him.
He resisted pulling out his cell phone and viewing the display. It was 8:18. He knew this because he’d checked the time four minutes ago when it was 8:14, and every few minutes before that for the last half hour. He doubted she was going to keep their physical-therapy appointment, not after the disagreement they’d had this afternoon.
“Uncle Ethan!” Cassie yelled. “What are you doing?” She and Isa came bounding toward the round pen.
The horse’s reaction to the girls’ approach was immediate. Prancing sideways, Prince tried to jerk free of Ethan’s hold…and almost succeeded.
“Relax, buddy,” Ethan soothed, his grip on the lead rope like iron. Luckily, he was using his right hand. Thanks to the way his shoulder felt tonight, his left arm was pretty much useless.
The mustang, eyes wide, stared at Cassie and Isa, who peered at him and Ethan from between the rails of the pen.
“You girls stay back, you hear me? And keep ahold of that pup. I don’t want him getting kicked.”
They complied, sort of, by retreating maybe six inches. Cassie did scoop up her puppy, Blue, a five-month-old cattle dog mix that was out of her sight only when she was at school or a friend’s house.
“Gonna ride him, Uncle Ethan?” Isa asked.
Though not officially a member of the family yet, Sage’s daughter had already started calling Ethan “uncle.” Probably because Cassie did. Isa copied the older girl’s every move.
Ethan didn’t mind. In fact, he rather enjoyed the moniker—and his role of the younger bachelor uncle who constantly set a bad example for his nieces by swearing in front of them and periodically losing his temper.
Months of counseling after the car bomb explosion had taught Ethan how to deal with his sometimes volatile and erratic emotions. Normally, he did a good job. On occasion, like earlier today, he wondered if maybe he’d quit attending counseling too soon, and should call the VA hospital for a referral. His buttons lay close to the surface and were easily pushed.
“Not tonight,” he said, answering Isa’s question. “Prince isn’t ready.”
“When will you ride him?” Cassie asked.
“Soon.”
“That’s what you said yesterday.”
“Don’t you girls have any homework?”
“We did it already,” Isa volunteered.
“A TV show you want to watch?”
“We’re still grounded until tomorrow,” Cassie answered glumly.
“You’re lucky that’s all the punishment you got. If I’d pulled a stunt like you two did when I was a kid, Grandpa Wayne would have had me cleaning stalls every day before school and mucking out the calf pens.”
Come to think of it, those had always been his chores. Both he and Gavin had helped their father and grandfather with the cattle business from the time they were Isa’s age.
“Yeah, but if not for us, you wouldn’t have captured Prince.”
Cassie was right, even if her assessment of the situation was a mite skewed.
Last month, in an act of rebellion, she and Isa had taken off on horseback into the mountains without telling anyone where they were going. After a frantic two-hour search, they were found in the box canyon, along with Sage’s missing mare and Prince.
The wild mustang had proved difficult to capture, requiring all of Ethan’s and Gavin’s skills as cowboys. It had also been one of the most exciting moments of their lives.
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