He’d been pleasant and polite, but that devil-may-care charm was noticeably absent.
“I’m guessing you injured yourself?”
“My left shoulder,” he said.
“Strained it?”
“Or something.”
She stood in front of him and gently placed her hand on the afflicted area. He jerked at her touch.
“Does that hurt?”
“Some.”
She suspected her proximity was responsible for his reaction more than anything else. There was a lot of history between them, after all, much of it unresolved.
“What happened?” She gently probed his shoulder.
“A horse decided he didn’t much like me riding him.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask how he managed that with a prosthetic leg, but she refrained. Clay had warned her that Ethan didn’t appreciate reminders of his handicap, and refused to let it hold him back. Well, he’d always been competitive. First high school sports, then professional rodeo after graduation.
“Did you at least land on soft ground?”
“The arena.”
“Thank goodness.” She lifted his arm. “Tell me when it starts to hurt.”
He said nothing, even when she raised it clear over his head. The clenching of his jaw told another story. She lowered his arm, then raised it again, this time to the side.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but remained stubbornly silent.
Bending his arm at the elbow, she pressed his hand into the small of his back. “What about now?”
“Okay.” He released a long breath and shook off her grasp. “You win. It hurts.”
So he wasn’t invincible.
“You should see your doctor as soon as possible and get an X-ray,” she told him, lightly massaging his shoulder. “You might have torn a ligament or your rotator cuff.”
“I’ll be better by morning.”
He was back to being the tough guy.
“No, you’re going to be worse. Trust me.”
“I’ll take some ibuprofen.”
“Three a day, extra strength. Up to six if your stomach can tolerate it. Ice the shoulder for at least an hour tonight before you go to bed, and again in the morning. When you can’t stand the pain anymore and decide I’m right, see your doctor.”
He chuckled, and the smile she’d been missing earlier appeared, if only a shadow of the one she remembered.
“You have nothing to prove, Ethan.” She laid her palm on his good shoulder. “See a doctor.”
“You’re wrong.” He rose from the chair, either her touch or her words galvanizing him. “I do have something to prove.”
One step on his part and they were standing toe to toe.
Unable to help herself, Caitlin looked up into his face. As his gaze raked over her, lingered on her mouth, the atmosphere surrounding them went from calm to highly charged.
So much for believing the attraction had died.
She retreated on unsteady legs. All these years apart, and he still had the ability to unsettle her.
“How’s your family?” she asked. Breathing came easier with some distance between them. “Clay mentioned your brother’s getting married.”
“This spring. I suppose Clay also mentioned the two of them are partners in a stud and breeding business.”
“No.” By unspoken agreement, she and 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
