The return of the cowboy
Nine years ago Ethan Powell gave up his rodeo career, his Arizona ranch, his family—and most important, his high school sweetheart—to join the Marines. He’s returned an injured hero, determined to let nothing keep him from going back to a job he loves—breaking horses. Getting back in the saddle is something he needs to do, to prove to himself he can.
Breaking horses and breaking her heart again? No way! Caitlin Carmichael isn’t ready to pick up where she and Ethan left off, no matter how devastating his kisses are. She isn’t the same carefree risk taker she used to be. This time the two-feet-solidly-on-the-ground nurse is proceeding with caution. So what is it about Ethan and his daredevil ways that’s making her long to have him as her Christmas cowboy—for now and every Christmas to come?
He kept coming, straight for her.
Before she could object, he hauled her into his arms and swung her in a wide circle.
“Put me down before you hurt yourself. More. Again.”
“I did it!”
“Ethan, please!”
He released her. Except 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 wanted to do this for the past three days.”
Three days? Was that all?
She’d been waiting the past eight years, eleven months and twenty-one days to kiss him.
Dear Reader,
If asked, I would admit that reunion stories are one of my favorite kinds to read—which made Her Cowboy’s Christmas Wish one of my favorite kind to write. From the moment I began this book I knew Ethan Powell would be an interesting guy. How could a former rodeo bronc rider trying for a comeback after a long stint in the marines not be interesting? Only when he first appeared on the pages of Last Chance Cowboy did I realize Ethan returned from the Middle East minus the lower half of his left leg.
I wondered how his family and friends might look at him and if they’d treat him differently. I was really curious how his old high school sweetheart would react when she first saw him. While imagining that scene, Caitlin Carmichael came to life for me. She is strong, yet scared to death and not at all the person she was when she and Ethan dated those many years ago. Then again, neither is he.
Helping these two people rekindle their love, resolve their differences and find their meant-to-be happily-ever-after has been pure pleasure for me. I hope reading their story is for you, too.
Warmest wishes,
Cathy McDavid
P.S. I always enjoy hearing from readers. You can contact me at www.cathymcdavid.com.
Cathy McDavid
Her Cowboy’s Christmas Wish
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cathy makes her home in Scottsdale, Arizona, near the breathtaking McDowell Mountains where hawks fly overhead, javelina traipse across her front yard and mountain lions occasionally come calling. She embraced the country life at an early age, acquiring her first horse in eighth grade. Dozens of horses followed through the years, along with mules, an obscenely fat donkey, chickens, ducks, goats and a pot-bellied pig who had her own swimming pool. Nowadays, two spoiled dogs and two spoiled-er cats round out the McDavid pets. Cathy loves contemporary and historical ranch stories and often incorporates her own experiences into her books.
When not writing, Cathy and her family and friends spend as much time as they can at her cabin in the small town of Young. Of course, she takes her laptop with her on the chance inspiration strikes.
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To my own darling Caitlin.
You were truly the most beautiful baby ever born. I’m not exactly sure when you grew up into this incredible, lovely and supersmart young woman, but it happened. And I couldn’t be any prouder. Love you forever, Mom.
Contents
Chapter One
The big buckskin reared—at least he tried to rear. His thick, rangy body was too confined by the narrow chute, so he achieved little height. Frustrated, he pawed the ground, then backed up and banged into the panel with such force the reverberation carried down the metal railing like an electrical current.
“He’s an ornery one,” the cowboy sitting astride the fence said. “And smarter than he looks.”
Ethan Powell considered the man’s assessment of the horse he was about to ride, and decided he agreed. The buckskin was ornery and smart, and would enjoy nothing better than stomping Ethan into the ground.
Exactly the kind of saddle bronc he preferred. The kind he’d hoped to draw when he’d competed professionally. Nowadays his rodeo riding was restricted to this small, local arena and for “personal enjoyment” only. No sanctioned rodeo,