Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Caitlyn′s Prize

Caitlyn's Prize
Linda Warren


Caitlyn Belle will die before she'll let Judd Calhoun take her Texas ranch!Her arrogant and wealthy neighbor has been waiting to get back at her for jilting him years ago. But she wasn't about to be roped and steered into wedlock–even if her feelings for Judd went far beyond a business arrangement between their two families.Judd will never forgive Cait for walking out on him. Now that her late father's gambling debts have her backed into a corner, Judd's ready to take his sweet revenge. But first he has to forget the yearning in Cait's forget-me-not blue eyes.Just when Judd thinks he's over her, trust the fearless, stubborn woman to tempt him once again….












“Let me go.”


Caitlyn flailed her arms and Judd pulled up and released her. She fell to the ground, her eyes firing blue flames at him. “You bastard.”

He rested back in the saddle, staring down at her. “Is that any way to talk to a man who just saved your life?”

She stood and dusted off the back of her jeans. “You’re trespassing, Judd. Get off my property.” She swung her cute butt around and headed back to the hive of cattle.

She stepped in the mud without hesitation and bent to a pipe that was gushing water.

He slid from the saddle and went to help her. His head told him to ride away. This woman had hurt him more than anyone in his life.

But his heart was the traitor, urging him forward.


Dear Reader,

I’m excited about the start of a new trilogy, THE BELLES OF TEXAS. The stories involve three sisters with the same father but different mothers. I’ve written a lot of cowboy books and I wanted to change the scenario and write about feisty, strong cowgirls.

I grew up on a farm/ranch and my mother knew more about the cattle than my dad. She knew when to sell calves, when to cull the herd and when to change pastures. My dad always went with her judgment. So I drew upon my years as a child watching my mother as I planned these books.

The sisters are independent, stubborn and know what they want. They’re willing to put their hearts on the line to protect family and each other. Maybe there’s a little bit of a cowgirl in all of us.

I hope you enjoy the Belle sisters as much as I enjoyed creating them.

From Texas with love,

Linda Warren

P.S. It’s always a pleasure to hear from readers.

You can e-mail me at Lw1508@aol.com or write me at

P.O. Box 5182, Bryan, TX 77805 or visit my

Web site at www.lindawarren.net or

www.myspace.com/authorlindawarren.

Your letters will be answered.




CAITLYN’S PRIZE

Linda Warren










ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Award-winning, bestselling author Linda Warren has written twenty-three books for Harlequin Superromance and Harlequin American Romance. She grew up in the farming and ranching community of Smetana, Texas, the only girl in a family of boys. She loves to write about Texas, and from time to time scenes and characters from her childhood show up in her books. Linda lives in College Station, Texas, not far from her birthplace, with her husband, Billy, and a menagerie of wild animals, from Canada geese to bobcats. Visit her Web site at www.lindawarren.net.




Books by Linda Warren


HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE

1049—ON THE TEXAS BORDER

1075—COWBOY AT THE CROSSROADS

1125—THE WRONG WOMAN

1167—A BABY BY CHRISTMAS

1221—THE RIGHT WOMAN

1250—FORGOTTEN SON

1314—ALL ROADS LEAD TO TEXAS

1354—SON OF TEXAS

1375—THE BAD SON

1440—ADOPTED SON

1470—TEXAS BLUFF

1499—ALWAYS A MOTHER

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

1042—THE CHRISTMAS CRADLE

1089—CHRISTMAS, TEXAS STYLE

“Merry Texmas”

1102—THE COWBOY’S RETURN

1151—ONCE A COWBOY

1226—TEXAS HEIR

1249—THE SHERIFF OF HORSESHOE, TEXAS


A special thanks to my editor, Kathleen Scheibling, and to Wanda Ottewell for making this series possible.

Thanks to J.O., Bobby and Chris Siegert for refreshing my memory and answering my pesky questions about ranching, cattle, windmills, oil wells and the sand and gravel business.

All errors are strictly mine.




DEDICATION


This past year has been especially difficult for me.

I dedicate this book to my husband, Billy, my Sonny,

who was always there to help me through it.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

EPILOGUE




CHAPTER ONE


IT WAS RECKONING DAY.

Caitlyn Belle knew that with every beat of her racing heart.

She stopped at the entrance to the Southern Cross ranch and shoved the stick shift of her old Chevy truck into first. The gears protested with a grinding noise, which she ignored. Her brain cells could process only so much, and right now her full attention was on the ranch’s owner, not a faulty transmission.

Once she crossed the cattle guard, there was a whole lot of reckoning waiting for her. Judd Calhoun, the man she’d jilted fourteen years ago, had requested a meeting with her. The question why kept jangling in her head like loose change.

Time to find out.

Reckoning or not.

She drove between the huge stone pillars that supported the decorative, arched wrought-iron sign that bore the name Southern Cross. White board fences flanked both sides of the graveled road, curling toward a massive ranch-style house with a red tile roof.

A circular drive with a magnificent horse-sculpture fountain made of limestone graced the front of the house. The place looked like something out of a magazine. The only things that signaled this was a working ranch were the corrals and barns in the distance and the white Brahman cattle that dotted the horizon.

High Five had once been like this, but not anymore. Cait felt a moment of sadness. She couldn’t change the past. The future was her main concern.

The High Five, owned by the Belles, and the Southern Cross, owned by the Calhouns, were the two biggest ranches near High Cotton, Texas, a stop in the road of less than five hundred people. It had been both families’ dream that someday the ranches would be one, joined by the marriage of Caitlyn, the oldest Belle daughter, and Judd, the only male Calhoun offspring.

But Caitlyn couldn’t go through with it. No one understood her reasons, least of all her father, Dane Belle. He’d begged her to think about what she was doing and to reconsider. She couldn’t. The rumor mill in High Cotton said she was spoiled, stubborn, but there had been a whole lot more to her decision than that.

The two families had been at odds ever since. The Calhouns prospered, while the Belles suffered financial losses one after another. Her father had passed away two months ago and High Five was barely holding on. The enormous debt Dane had incurred still angered Caitlyn. Without the royalties from the oil and gas leases, the ranch would fold. She was going to make sure that never happened.

She parked on the circular drive and took a moment to gather her wits. But her wits were scattered hither and yon, and might take more time to collect than she had. The fountain bubbled invitingly and memories knocked on the door of yesterday. She refused to open it.

Getting out, she hurried toward the huge walnut front doors and tapped the brass knocker before she lost her nerve. She studied the beautiful stained glass and saw her distorted reflection.

Maybe she should have worn makeup and a dress instead of her bare face, jeans and boots. The thought almost caused her to laugh hysterically. Judd Calhoun was not going to notice how she looked. This was business. It certainly wasn’t personal. Personal feelings had taken a hike when she’d said, “I can’t marry you.”

Brenda Sue Beecham swung open the door. “Oh, Caitlyn, you’re right on time.”

Brenda Sue, a bleached blonde, had more curves than Harper’s Road and was known for her friendly disposition. In high school she’d been called B.S. for obvious reasons. No one could B.S. like Brenda Sue. Her mouth was going at all times.

After a failed marriage, she was back home, living with her parents and working as a secretary in the Southern Cross office. There were very few jobs for women in High Cotton, and Cait could only imagine how Brenda Sue had gotten this one. But she shouldn’t be catty. Brenda Sue’s dad, Harvey, had worked on the Southern Cross for years before he retired because of a bad back. Cait felt sure he’d asked for Judd’s help on her behalf.

“Come this way. Judd should be here any minute. You know how he loves his horses. Oh, what am I saying?” Brenda Sue gave a forced laugh. “You know everything about Judd. Sometimes I forget that, with you being such a stick-in-the-mud and all. Now, I don’t mean that in an offensive way. You’ve just always been rather…you know…”

Caitlyn followed her into Judd’s study, thinking that yellow hair would make a good dust mop. She pushed the thought aside. Brenda Sue and her endless digs and infinite “you know’s” were the least of her worries.

“Judd will be right with you. I have to get back to the office. I help out in the house every now and then, you know. Gosh, it’s good seeing you, Caitlyn.” With that, Brenda Sue closed the door and disappeared.

Caitlyn hadn’t said one word. She didn’t need to. Brenda Sue was a one-woman show, no participation required. How did Judd put up with that airhead? But he was a man and probably enjoyed looking at her cleavage. Caitlyn didn’t want to think about what else might be between them.

She took a seat in a burgundy leather wingback chair facing the enormous mahogany desk. Vibrant polished wood surrounded her. A man’s room, she thought. There were no family photos, just framed pictures of prize Brahman bulls and thoroughbred horses, along with several bull and horse sculptures. A magnificent one sat on his desk, a smaller version of the one in the fountain. The stallion stood on his hind legs, his mane flowing in the wind as his front feet pawed the air.

If her nerves weren’t hog-tied into knots, she’d take a closer look. Right now she had to focus on the next few minutes. She crossed her legs and tried to relax. It was only a meeting.

After fourteen years.

The knots grew tighter.

She touched her hair in a nervous gesture. After brushing it until her arms ached, she couldn’t decide whether to wear it up or down. Judd had liked it loose and flowing, so she’d weaved it into a French braid, as usual. It hung down her back and conveniently kept her hair out of her face.

She recrossed her legs and stared in horror at the horse crap on her boots. Damn. Damn. Damn! But when you ran a working ranch it was hard not to step in it every now and then.

Tissues in a brass holder on the desk caught her attention. Just what she needed. As she started to rise, the door opened and Judd strolled in with Frank Gaston, her father’s attorney. Her butt hit the leather with a swooshing sound, but Judd didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t even look at her, though the lawyer nodded in her direction.

Judd sank into his chair, placing a folder on the desk in front of him. He was a big man with an even bigger presence. His hair was dark brown, his eyes darker. She’d once called them “midnight magic.” Their color rivaled the darkest night, and magic was what she’d felt when he’d looked at her.

Oh, God! She’d been so naive.

The leather protested as she shifted uncomfortably. Judd had changed very little over the years. He’d been at her father’s funeral, but had never gotten within twenty feet of her. She’d seen him every now and then when she was at the general store or the gas station in High Cotton, but he’d always ignored her.

As he did now.

She’d never been this close before, though, breathing the same air, occupying the same space. There were gray strands at his temples, but they only added to his appeal. A white shirt stretched across his shoulders. Had they always been that wide?

Reality check. Something serious was going on and it required her undivided attention. What was Frank doing here?

As she watched, Judd opened the folder and laid a document on the desk in front of her.

“Two months before your father died, he sold me High Five’s oil and gas royalties.”

Everything in the room seemed to sway. Cait’s fingers pressed into the leather and she felt its texture, its softness, its support, yet it felt unreal. The expression on Judd’s face, though, was as real as it got.

Something was stuck in her throat. “Excuse me?” she managed to ask.

“Are you hard of hearing?” He looked at her then, his dark eyes nailing her like barbed wire to a post, hard, sure and without mercy.

“Of course not.” She wouldn’t let him get to her. She sprang to her feet, wanting answers. “I don’t believe it. My father wouldn’t do that to us.”

“It’s true, Caitlyn. I’m sorry,” Frank said, a touch of sadness in his voice.

Judd poked the document with one finger. “Read it. The fifteenth will be your last check.”

Grabbing the document, she sat down to see this debacle with her own eyes. She had to. Her knees were shaking. As she read, the shaking spread to her whole body. It was true. Her father’s bold signature leaped out at her, sealing her fate and the fate of High Five.

How could he?

Judd Calhoun had found his revenge.

She was lost somewhere between feeling like a nineteen-year-old girl with her head in the clouds and a woman of thirty-three with her feet planted firmly on the ground. Shaky ground. What happened next? The adult Caitlyn should know, but she didn’t.

Judd did, and she was very aware of that as she heard his strong, confident voice. “Dane worried about the welfare of his daughters and his mother.”

“So he sold everything that was keeping us solvent. Why?” She fired the question at him with all the anger she was feeling.

“Gambling debts. He didn’t want those people coming after you or your grandmother.”

“So he leaves us with nothing?”

“You have the ranch.”

She stood on her less-than-stable legs, but she would not show one sign of weakness to this man. He had somehow finagled her father into doing this. That was the only explanation.

Judd pulled another paper from the folder. “There was nothing he could do about the gambling debts but pay them. He felt, though, that he should made arrangements for you, your sisters and your grandmother. I agreed to honor them as best as I could.”

That was her father. He was of the older generation and believed a woman had to be taken care of. That her place was in the home, kitchen or bed. Daughters were pampered and spoiled and did what they were told, like marrying a man of their father’s choosing.

Caitlyn had lived with that mindset all her life. She had defied it once, to her regret.

Pushing those thoughts away, she concentrated on what Judd had said. Agreed to what?

“What are you talking about?”

“With his enormous debt, Dane had very few options, and he asked for my help.” The rancher paused and picked up a gold pen, twirling it between his fingers. “Dane was also very aware of your stubborn, independent streak.”

She stiffened. “So?” As if she wasn’t reminded of it every freakin’ day of her life.

“Here’s Dane’s deal….” His dark eyes swept over her. “If the ranch is not making a profit within six months, you will sell High Five to me at a fair market price.”

“What!” His words hit her in the chest like a shot of her dad’s Tennessee whiskey.

“Still have that hearing problem?”

She ignored the sarcastic remark. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s true,” the lawyer interjected.

“Shut up, Frank.” She pointed a finger at him. “What are you doing here? You’re the Belles’ attorney. Shouldn’t you be on my side?”

“Caitlyn…”

Ignoring her outburst, Judd read from the paper in front of him. “‘I’m giving Caitlyn the option to operate High Five or sell. This decision is hers, not Madison’s nor Skylar’s. It is my wish, though, that she consult with her sisters. To die with a clear conscience, I have to give Caitlyn a chance. But if the ranch continues to decline six months after my death, then High Five ranch and all its entities will be sold to Judd Calhoun. Dorothea Belle will continue to live on the property as long as she lives.’”

Caitlyn was speechless, completely speechless. Her father, in his antiquated thinking, had given Judd a golden opportunity to exact his revenge. But she would not give in so easily. She would not fail.

“I…I think I’ll go and let you two sort this out.” The attorney glanced at her. “If you need anything, Caitlyn, just call.”

“Yeah, right.”

Frank shrugged and walked out.

She looked straight at Judd, her eyes unwavering. “You think you’ve won, don’t you?”

He leaned back in his chair, the cotton fabric of his shirt stretching taut across his chest. “Yes, I’ve won. But knowing you, I’m sure you’ll flounder along for six months. In the end I will take everything you love.”

Her heart fell to her boots and her words tangled in the remnants of her shattered pride.

“Nothing to say?” he mocked.

“I think you’ve said it all, Judd. If you’re waiting for me to beg, I’d advise you to take a breath, because it’s going to be a long wait.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Beg, Caitlyn? For what?”

“Go to hell.”

He shrugged. “Thanks to you, I’ve been there, and I’m not planning a return trip.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

She swallowed. “Then this meeting is over.”

“Not quite. I take it you are planning to operate High Five.”

“You got it.”

“Your sisters have to be informed of this development. Do you want to do the honors or should I?”

“I will speak to my sisters. We do not need your interference.”

“Fine.” He rested a forearm on the desk, his eyes holding hers. “Give it up, Caitlyn. You can’t win this. Even Dane knew that. Sell now and save yourself the aggravation.”

“You are not God, Judd, and you can’t control people’s lives.”

“Control?” His laugh bruised her senses. “I never said anything about control. I’m helping a friend. Out of respect for your father, I’ve agreed to this arrangement and I will not go back on my word.”

Respect? He didn’t know the meaning of the word.

“You’re a conniving bastard, Judd. I don’t know how you got my father to agree to this.”

“Dane came looking for me, not the other way around.” He spoke calmly, but she couldn’t help but note the curl in his lip.

“And you were there, eager to oblige.”

He suddenly stood, and instinctively, she took a step backward. “I will own High Five and I will take great pleasure in taking it from you.”

She held her head high. “I’ve often thought you were heartless, sort of like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz, except he wanted a heart. You, Judd, are lost forever. May God have mercy on your conniving soul.”

“I had a heart but you ripped it out by the roots.” The glimmer in his eyes was the only sign his emotions were involved. “This is reckoning day. I’m taking it all. It’s just a matter of time. I see it as sweet justice.”

She walked out of the room with only her dignity, which didn’t feel like much. Stoically, she marched to the front door. On the silk Persian rug, she paused and wiped the crap from her boots.

Now that was sweet justice.




CHAPTER TWO


“YOU CAN’T STOP WATCHING her, can you?”

Judd tensed, but his eyes never left Caitlyn as she jumped into her truck and raced down the driveway, tires squealing. Fourteen years and she was still the same—breathtakingly beautiful with Hollywood curves, glossy black hair and a smooth olive complexion.

But it was her forget-me-not-blue eyes that always got him. They reminded him of crystal marbles his grandfather had once given him: bright, shiny and irresistible. He still owned them, tucked away in a box somewhere, but he’d long ago found that Caitlyn wasn’t a thing to be possessed.

He turned from the window to face his mother. “Did you need something?”

Renee motioned over her shoulder. “I just saw Caitlyn leave.”

“Yes.”

“Then you told her?”

“Yes.”

“Why aren’t you smiling? Why aren’t you happy?”

He blew out a breath. “I don’t really want to get into this.”

“Well, sorry. I do.” His mother walked farther into the room, flaunting her usual you’d-better-listen stance. As a kid, he’d hated that tone in her voice. He wasn’t crazy about it now.

“I’m not in the mood.”

Renee placed her hands on her hips. In her late sixties, she was an active woman. After Judd’s dad’s death, shopping had become her favorite exercise and pastime. She never interfered in Judd’s life and he liked it that way.

Of course, she’d never been a big part of his life. Judd had been five when she’d left Jack Calhoun and him. Judd then had the stepmother from hell.

After that marriage fell apart, his parents had miraculously reconnected, remarrying when Judd was twelve. By then there was a gulf between him and his mother that couldn’t be bridged.

“From the tires squealing on our driveway, I assume she didn’t receive the news well. But what woman would? You take her livelihood away from her and—”

“I did not take it.” He tried to control his voice, but the words came out too loud. “Her father sold it.”

“Why couldn’t you have worked out a loan so payments could have been made? That way Caitlyn would have had a fighting chance.”

“Why should I care about giving that woman a fighting chance?”

“Because—” his mother lifted an eyebrow that said she knew him better than he thought “—in fourteen years I’ve lost track of the number of women you’ve gone through to forget Caitlyn. I thought Deanna was the one, but the next thing I knew you weren’t seeing her anymore.” Renee took a step closer. “You haven’t forgotten Caitlyn, so why not admit it and try to make this work?”

“Mom, you know nothing about this. You have no idea how much money Dane owed.”

“It couldn’t have been that much.”

“Try six hundred fifty-two thousand dollars.”

“Oh, my God!” Renee clutched her chest. “How could he gamble away that much money?”

“It’s easy when you’re losing.”

The lines on his mom’s forehead deepened. “Are the oil and gas royalties worth that much?”

“Yes. In a few years I’ll recoup my investment. That is, if oil and gas prices don’t drop. It’s a gamble.”

“So in a way you’re doing a nice thing?”

He hooked his thumbs into his jeans pockets. “What?”

“If you hadn’t paid off Dane’s gambling debts, those people would have come looking for Caitlyn, her sisters and Dorie.”

He rocked back on his heels. “Yep.”

“So you did a good thing?”

“Ah, Mom. You have to see some good in me, don’t you?”

“As a mother, I know there’s good in you.”

“Not this time.” He walked to his desk with sure steps. “I was glad Dane asked for my help. As a neighbor, I would never have said no. As the man his daughter jilted, I was more than eager to oblige. I’m going to take Caitlyn down hard. She will beg me for mercy before this is over.”

“Son, son.” Renee clicked her tongue. “It’s been fourteen years. Just let it go.”

“I can’t.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “She destroyed everything I believed about relationships and trust. I’m thirty-six years old and should have a family. Caitlyn Belle will pay for what she did to me. And it’s only just starting.”

“Why, son? Why do you need this revenge?”

“I don’t have to justify my actions.”

“You can’t even see the forest for the trees.”

He frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means Caitlyn loved you, but you pushed too hard and so did Dane. She was nineteen years old and all she wanted was to finish college, to be young and have fun. But neither you nor Dane would listen to her wishes. Y’all had to control her every move, and look what happened. If you had given her the time she’d wanted, you’d be married today.”

“Loved me?” His jaw clenched. “Why do women have to always drag out the L word? It was a business arrangement solely.”

“A pity no one mentioned that to Caitlyn.”

“She couldn’t handle it. She was weak.”

Renee gave a laugh that grated on his nerves. “Weak? Caitlyn Belle? Oh, son, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

“Mom, just drop it.”

But his mother never listened to him. “You can’t see Caitlyn as a person. All you see is a woman who has to be controlled. You get that from Jack. But Caitlyn proved she can’t be controlled, not by you and not by her father.”

His eyes narrowed. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Renee waved a hand. “You sound just like your dad. He thought I needed to be told what to do. And I was to overlook his little infidelities. I couldn’t, so I walked away and lost my son.”

“I don’t want to go over this again.” Judd had heard the story so many times it was burned like a brand into his brain.

“He said he wasn’t cheating on me with that bitch, Blanche, but he was lying. As soon as the divorce was final, he married her.”

“You left a five-year-old kid behind.” Judd couldn’t keep the accusation out of his voice.

She brushed back her blond hair, pain evident in her green eyes, pain he didn’t want to see. But it was hard to ignore. “I had no choice. I couldn’t continue to take that type of humiliation, but I never planned to lose my son. Jack had the money to make sure I stayed away from you.”

“Mom, it’s over, and you and Dad had twenty years together before his death.”

“Yes, and we learned from our mistakes. Jack didn’t cheat again. At least, not to my knowledge.” She gazed at Judd. “You were the casualty of our mistakes. Do you remember what you did when your father brought me back here?”

He stared at the horse sculpture on his desk, not willing to speak.

“You walked out of the room and wouldn’t say a word to me. That hurt. I cried and cried. Your father said you’d come around. It took a solid year before you accepted me back into your life.”

Back then he couldn’t understand how a mother could leave her only child. He still didn’t, but she was his mom….

“Sometimes I don’t think you’ve ever forgiven me, or that you can forgive anyone. That’s my fault and—”

“This trip down memory lane is over. I’m going to check on the cowboys.”

“Dear son, listen to me. I was weak, but Caitlyn Belle is not. She will come back fighting. I’ve known her all her life and she will not bow easily. Be careful you’re not the one who ends up begging.”

“Mom…”

“I’ve said enough.” She raised a hand. “I’m not arguing with you. I came to tell you that if you don’t get rid of Brenda Sue, I’m going to strangle her.”

“Just don’t listen to her.”

“Not listen to her? I’d have to be stone deaf not to. Her voice rivals nails on a chalkboard. The woman never shuts up.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“If you don’t, I’m buying a gun.”

“Okay, okay.” He strolled from the room, headed for the back door and freedom from his mother’s words.

And freedom from the shattered look in Caitlyn’s blue forget-me-not eyes.



CAITLYN SLAMMED ON HER brakes at the barn, causing dust to blanket the truck. Unheeding, she jumped out and ran for the corral, whistling sharply.

Whiskey Red, a prize thoroughbred, her father’s last gift to her, trotted into the open corral. Cait hurried into the barn and Red followed. Within minutes, she had her saddled.

Cooper Yates and Rufus Johns, her only cowhands, came out of the tack room. “Hey, Cait, what are you doing?” Coop asked. “We just checked the herd.”

She swung into the saddle. “I’ll catch you later.” Kneeing Red, she bolted for fresh air.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Coop shouted after her.

She didn’t pause. Red’s hooves kicked up dirt as they picked up speed, moving faster and faster. If she was lucky, maybe she could outrun the pain in her chest.

Thirty minutes later, she lay in the green grass along Crooked Creek, her body soaked with sweat, her heart bounding off the walls of her lungs.

She sucked in a much needed breath and stared up at the bright May sky. The temperature was in the upper eighties, a perfect day.

A squeak of a laugh left her throat. Perfect? Far from it.

Your father sold me your oil and gas royalties.

Now what should she do?

I’m taking it all. It’s just a matter of time.

Not as long as she had breath in her body.

She sat up and stared at the plum trees growing close to the creek, dried dewberry vines nestled beneath them. She and her sisters often got sick from eating too many sweet plums in the summer, and they’d gotten drunk a time or two sneaking Etta’s dewberry wine.

Memories. High Five. A piece of her childhood.

Her life.

It seemed as if her father had reached out from the grave to try and still control her. He’d never understood her need to be a person in her own right and not a trophy on some man’s arm.

The fight for independence probably began when she was small. Her great-grandfather, Elias Cotton, had had three daughters, and it was a woeful happenstance that God had given him daughters instead of sons to carry on the tradition of High Five.

Dorothea, Caitlyn’s grandmother, had married Bartholomew Belle. Bart eventually bought out the sisters, and he and Dorie had run the ranch. After several miscarriages, they were blessed with a boy, Dane. All was aligned in the heavens. At last there was a son.

But once again fate struck. Dane had the misfortune to produce daughters. It wasn’t for lack of trying. Dane and Meredith, Caitlyn’s mother, had been high school sweethearts. They broke up when Dane went off to college. Years later they met again and married, but it wasn’t meant to be. Meredith died giving birth to Caitlyn.

He didn’t grieve for long. Six months later he’d married Audrey, but again the marriage didn’t last. Audrey was very religious and didn’t take to Dane’s gambling trips to Vegas and Atlantic City, or to his weekly poker games with his buddies. A year later she moved out with her newborn daughter, Madison.

Dane met Julia, Skylar’s mother, in Vegas, and felt he’d finally met the woman for him. Julia was from a Kentucky horse family, so it had to be a match made in heaven. It wasn’t. Although Julia knew Dane’s bad habits, she didn’t enjoy living with them on a daily basis. After two years, she’d packed her things, including her baby daughter, and left.

Three wives. Two divorces. And three daughters, all with different mothers. After the third wife, Dane gave up and accepted his fate. Without sons, High Five was doomed.

Cait had heard that all her life and didn’t understand it. She’d told her father many times that she could run High Five as well as any man. That always brought on a sermon about how a woman’s place was in the home, producing heirs.

That stung like a rope burn. But nothing had ever changed her father’s thinking.

Then she’d fallen hard for Judd, to the point that all she could see was his dark eyes, all she could feel was excitement when he looked at her. He was three years older, more experienced and more man than she’d ever met before.

Judd was popular in school, but he never glanced her way. Then one summer Renee threw a party and the Belle daughters were invited. Judd asked her to dance and Caitlyn thought she was in heaven.

After that, they met often, and before long heated kisses were taking her places she’d never been before. She was so in love that she never questioned Judd’s love or his attention.

He had a power about him that frightened and attracted her at the same time. When she was around him she couldn’t think. All she could do was feel.

And that caused her to fall right into her father’s plan. Marrying Judd would unite two powerful ranching families, and High Five would continue to prosper.

Cait was prepared to fulfill her duty. She loved Judd and wanted to spend her life with him. Her first year in college was fun, but nothing was more exciting than rushing home to spend a weekend in his arms. It was bliss. It was perfect.

Then Dane had said there was no need for her to return to school in the fall, that doing so would be a waste of money. She needed to focus on Judd, a home and babies. They’d had words, and she’d run to Judd, wanting him to take her side.

But he hadn’t. He didn’t understand her viewpoint. Why wouldn’t she want to think about a home for them and babies? he’d practically shouted. That’s what a married woman should want.

In that instant Cait saw her future. She would be like his mother, Renee, ruled by her domineering husband. She would decorate his home, serve his dinner guests, warm his bed and produce children. As Judd’s trophy wife, she would want for nothing. Except being treated as an equal.

Caitlyn made the toughest decision of her life in a heartbeat. Taking off her engagement ring, she’d said, “I can’t marry you. I can’t marry a man who doesn’t respect me as a woman.”

She waited for the magic words, his profession of love and respect, but they never came. He slipped her beautiful ring into his jeans pocket and walked out of the room. Her heart broke, but she held it all inside.

Her father wouldn’t speak to her for six months. Judd spoke to her for the first time today. But she’d gotten that education and she’d traveled. In the end, it brought her home to High Five.

Her grandfather had passed on and Gran had grown older. Cait was needed at home. Her father was gambling heavily and the ranch was neglected and in disrepair.

Cait had a degree in agriculture management and worked her butt off to keep High Five afloat, but her father’s debts were slowly taking them under.

Then they got the news: Dane had lung cancer and was given mere weeks to live. Cait was blindsided by grief, love and anger. Through it all she was determined to prove to him she could be the son he’d always wanted.

Sadly, he never saw her as a competent woman and rancher—only a beautiful daughter who needed a husband.

Lying in the grass, remembering, Caitlyn glanced toward the sky. “You never gave me a chance. And now…”

Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she refused to shed a single one. No one was taking High Five, especially not Judd.

Reaching for Red’s reins, she stood. In a flash, she was headed back to the ranch. She had to call her sisters. Maybe together they could save their home.

But the ranch wasn’t Madison’s or Skylar’s home. They’d been raised by their mothers, and spent only summers and a week at Christmas here. Cait had always looked forward to those times. Back then money hadn’t been a problem and their father had spoiled them terribly, giving them anything they’d wanted. But their best times had been just being together as sisters, racing their horses and exploring all the special places on the High Five ranch. It was always sad when the others left to return home for school in the fall.

For Caitlyn, the ranch had always been her home.

And always would be.

She glanced east to the Southern Cross.

Cait knew she had a fight on her hands, the biggest one of her life. There was no room for error, no room for losing.

And no room for feminine emotion.




CHAPTER THREE


CAITLYN RODE INTO the barn, feeling more determined than ever. Judd Calhoun would not take everything she loved.

As she unsaddled Red, it crossed her mind that she had once loved Judd. And if a psychologist chiseled through the stubborn layers of pride encased around her heart, a flicker of love might still be there. But Judd had just killed whatever remaining emotion she had ever felt for him. Guilt, her constant companion for years, had just vanished.

Now she was fighting mad.

“Hey, where did you take off to?” Cooper asked, walking into the barn, with Rufus a step behind him.

Her cowhands were outcasts, both of them ex-cons who worked cheap. She trusted them with her life.

Cooper Yates was bad to the bone—that’s what people in High Cotton said about him. He’d had a nightmarish childhood, with a father who beat him regularly. In his teens he’d been in and out of juvenile hall.

Coop had been a year ahead of her in school and she’d always liked him. They were friends, sharing a love of horses.

After high school, Coop worked on several horse farms, determined to stay out of trouble. But trouble always seemed to follow him. When he’d hired on at an operation in Weatherford, Texas, several thoroughbred horses died unexpectedly. An investigation determined that the pesticide mixed with the feed to kill weevils had been incorrectly applied.

The owner pointed the finger at Coop. They’d gotten into a fight and the owner had filed charges. Cooper was arrested, tried and convicted. He’d spent six months in a Huntsville prison.

When Caitlyn heard the news, she was convinced Coop was innocent. There was nothing he didn’t know about horses or their feed. She’d been proved right. The cover-up soon unraveled. The owner had mixed the feed and had used Coop as a scapegoat. Her friend was released, but the damage had been done. No one would hire him.

Caitlyn had urged her father to take a chance on Coop. He’d been working on High Five for three years now.

Rufus, the husband of Etta, their housekeeper, was now in his seventies. Years ago he’d been in a bar with friends when he saw a guy slap his girlfriend and slam her against the wall. Rufus pulled him off her and the man took a swing at him. Rufus ducked and managed to swing back, hard. The man went down and out—for good. His head hit a table and that was it.

Rufus had been tried and convicted. He’d spent three years in a Huntsville prison for involuntary manslaughter. When he was released, he came home to Etta and High Five. They were a part of the Belle extended family.

Cait threw Red’s saddle over a sawhorse, then pushed back her hat. “I have a heap of problems, guys.”

“What happened?” Coop asked. He was always the protective one.

She figured honesty was the best policy, so she told them the news.

“Shit,” Rufus said, and quickly caught himself. “Sorry, Miss Caitlyn. Didn’t mean to curse. It just slipped out.”

“Don’t worry, Ru. I’ll be doing a lot of that in the days to come.” She took a breath. “I don’t know how much I’ll be able to pay you, so it’s up to you whether you go or stay.”

“I’m staying,” Coop replied without hesitation. “I’m here until Judd forces us out.”

Rufus rubbed his face in thought. “I go where my Etta goes, and she ain’t leaving High Five or Miss Dorie. I’m staying, too.”

“Thanks, guys. Now I have to go tell Gran.” Cait had had no doubt about the men staying. They were close. They were family.

“We’re going to fix that fence in the northeast pasture,” Coop said. “I guess we now have to play nice with the lofty Calhouns.”

A smile touched her lips for the first time all day. “We’re going to play, but I’m not thinking nice.”

Coop grinned and it softened the harshness she often saw on his face.

She waved toward her horse. “Would you please rub down Red and feed her? I have to see Gran.”

“You’re gonna let me take care of Red?” One of Coop’s eyebrows shot to the brim of his worn Stetson. “Did you hear that, Ru?”

“Yes, siree, I did.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Okay, I don’t like other people taking care of my horse, so what?”

Cooper bowed from the waist. “I’ll treat her with the utmost care, ma’am.”

She shook her head and walked toward the house. The two-story wood-frame dwelling wasn’t as fancy as the Calhoun spread. John Cotton, her great-great-grandfather, who’d settled High Cotton with Will Calhoun in the late 1800s, had had simpler taste.

The exterior was weatherboard siding that desperately needed a coat of paint. The hip roof sported four chimneys, but since Grandfather Bart had installed central air and heat, they were rarely used.

Brick piers supported Doric half columns along three sides of the wraparound porch. A slat-wood balustrade enclosed the porch with a decorative touch. Black plantation shutters added another touch, as did the beveled glass door that had been there since the house was built.

In the summers Cait and her sisters used to sleep out on the porch in sleeping bags, laughing and sharing secrets. What she had to share now wasn’t going to be easy.

She picked up her stride and breezed through the back veranda into the kitchen. Etta was at the stove, stirring something in a pot.

“Where’s Gran?”

“In her room.” Etta always seemed to have a spoon in her hand, and she waved it now. “I’m almost afraid to go up there.” The housekeeper was tiny and spry, with short gray hair, a loyal and honest woman with a heart of gold. Cait had never met a better person.

Etta was fiercely loyal to Dorie, and worried about her. Since her son’s death, Dorie tended to live in a world removed from reality. As kids, playing make-believe with Gran had been a favorite pastime for Caitlyn and her sisters. But lately it had gotten out of hand.

“What is she doing?” Cait asked.

“She had me help her get that old trunk out of the attic. She was pulling clothes out of it when I came down to start supper. We’re having stew and cornbread.”

“Etta…” Cait sighed. “Neither you nor Gran are to pull trunks out of the attic. I’ll do it or Coop will.”

“She was in a hurry, and you know how Miss Dorie is.”

“Yes.” Cait turned toward the stairs in the big kitchen. “I’ll go talk to her.”



CAIT KNOCKED ON her grandmother’s door, stepping into the room when she heard her call, “Come in.” Then she stopped and stared.

Gran stood in front of a full-length mirror, in a dress from the 1930s. It fit her slim figure perfectly. She wore heels and a jaunty hat that were also of that era.

“Gran, what are you doing?”

“‘I’ve been betrayed so often by tomorrows, I don’t dare promise them.’”

Cait blinked. That made no sense. Though it kinda, sorta exemplified their situation, she thought.

“Remember that line, baby?” Gran primped in front of the mirror, turning this way and that way.

“No, I don’t.” Cait was thirty-three and her grandmother still called her “baby.” She wondered if Gran would ever see her as an adult.

“Bette Davis.” Dorie whirled to face her. “As Joyce Heath in Dangerous. Let’s play movies of the thirties.”

“I really need to talk to you.”

“Oh, posh.” Gran knelt at the trunk, pulling out more clothes. She held up a white blouse with a big bow. “I know you remember this line. ‘Fasten your seat belts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.’”

Cait could say that was apt, but decided to leave her grandmother with her playful memories for the moment. Cait was worried whether Gran was ever going to be able to cope with her son’s death. Soon, though, she was going to have to face facts. Cait hoped to make it as easy as possible.

She hurried down the wooden staircase and across the wide plank floors to her study. She had to call her sisters. Since Cait was in charge of their inheritance, they depended on her to make decisions that would benefit them. How did she tell them they wouldn’t be receiving any more checks? By being honest.

She called Madison first. Their middle sister was easy—that’s what she and Skylar often said. Not easy in the sexual sense, but with her emotions. Madison was easygoing, loving, compassionate, and felt other people’s pain. Cait and Sky often played on Maddie’s sensitive nature because they knew she would never do anything to hurt or disappoint them. Cait was counting on her understanding today.

Madison answered on the second ring.

“Maddie, it’s Cait.”

“Hi, big sister. What’s going on? Is there a ranch crisis?”

It was the opening Caitlyn needed. “Yes.” She told her about her meeting with Judd.

There was a long pause on the other end. “Cait, I need that money. I depend on it.”

Cait was taken aback. This didn’t sound like her easy, understanding sister.

“I’m sorry, but it’s gone.”

“Can’t you do something?”

Cait heard the desperation in her voice. “You need to come home so we can discuss this.”

“I…I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, okay?”

“Maddie, we need to discuss our options face-to-face. That’s all I know to do.”

There was another long pause.

“I’ll try to get the next flight out of Philadelphia. I’ll let you know.”

“Good. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Cait…”

“What?”

“Nothing. We’ll talk when I get there.”

Cait hung up, knowing something was going on with Maddie. But what? She’d find out soon enough.

Sadly, as they grew older, the sisters spent less and less time together. Maddie had come home when their father became ill, and had stayed until he died. Before that Cait hadn’t seen her in three years.

Maybe they could reconnect and become family again. There was that hope, but she knew her sisters would pressure her to sell. She closed her eyes briefly, realizing she was facing the biggest fight of her life. And not only with Judd.

Calling Skylar was more difficult. She was the wild, defiant one, and was not going to take this news well. When Sky came to visit their father in his last days, it had been four years since Cait had seen her. Skylar had her own life, living in Lexington, Kentucky, with her mother, but had a stake here, too.

Without another thought, Cait made the call. Usually she had to leave a message on voice mail, but today her sister answered.

“Hi, Sky. It’s Caitlyn.”

“What’s wrong? You only phone when something’s wrong.”

As with Maddie, she told her the truth, not sugarcoating any of it.

“You’re kidding me.”

“No. The cash flow has stopped and the ranch is in dire straits.”

“Why, Caitlyn? Why isn’t High Five making a profit? It’s a big ranch with a lot of cattle, and it’s always been profitable. What’s the problem?”

Skylar was pointing the finger straight at her. How dare she! “Maybe if you came home more often, you’d know.”

“Maybe if you were a better manager we wouldn’t be in this fix.”

“If you think you can do a better job, then get your ass here and try.”

“Don’t get huffy with me. If you’d just married the damn man, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Excuse me?” Both of their tempers had flown the coop, so to speak, and Caitlyn wasn’t backing down or admitting fault. This was typical of their relationship, with the two of them always at loggerheads.

“You know what I mean.”

“My relationship with Judd or lack thereof has nothing to do with this. Dad sold our oil and gas royalties and now we have to decide what we’re going to do. You need to come home.”

“There is no way I can just drop everything and leave at a moment’s notice.”

“That’s up to you. Maddie and I will make decisions without you.”

“Like hell.” There was a momentary pause. “Listen, Cait. I need that money.”

“I heard the same thing from Maddie. And I might remind you that I put my money back into High Five. You two have been living free and easy. That’s going to stop. I’m sorry, but it is. If you want to change things, then come home. That’s my last word.”

“Cait—”

“No, Sky. I’m not listening to any more of your mouth. If you think you can run this ranch better, you’re welcome to try. Just get here!” She shouted the last words into the receiver and slammed it down.

Caitlyn stood and paced, trying to release her pent-up emotions. Sky didn’t know how bad their father’s drinking and gambling habits had been, nor did she know about Gran’s fragile state of mind. Neither did Maddie.

Cait had shouldered the burden, while her sisters had lived a life of luxury. She ran her hands over her face with a deep, torturous sigh. She should have told them. Was this her fault?

Dropping her hands, she glanced out the window toward the Southern Cross. I’ll take everything you love. Judd’s words took root in her thoughts, her emotions. Yes, it was her fault. All because she wouldn’t marry a man who didn’t love her.

At nineteen, she’d believed in love and happily ever after. She’d thought she’d hit the jackpot, only to discover that the marriage had been arranged between Jack Calhoun and her father. That’s why Judd had shown an interest in her, after ignoring her for years.

It was all planned. Caitlyn was to do as she was told. But her father didn’t count on her stubborn streak.

She’d wanted to marry for love, and wouldn’t settle for less.

Now, years later, she had to wonder if love was real or just a fantasy that lived inside foolish women’s hearts and minds.

For her, it was something she’d never experience again.

Love had died.

Only revenge remained.




CHAPTER FOUR


“CAITLYN, WHERE ARE YOU? I can’t traipse all over the house looking for you. I’m too old for this. You have a visitor, so get your butt out here.”

Etta’s annoyed voice snapped Caitlyn out of her malaise. She hurried to the door and yanked it open, finding the housekeeper there with a wooden spoon in her hand.

As a kid, Cait had often felt the sting of that spoon on her legs, mostly for doing something she’d been told not to. She had a feeling Etta wanted to swat her with it now.

“What is it?”

“You have a visitor. He’s in the parlor.”

“He, who?”

“Mr. Calhoun.”

Oh great, just what she needed. Two encounters with the man in one day. What did he want now? Her blood?

Etta leaned in and whispered, “What’s he doing here?” Those faded brown eyes demanded an answer. Gran’s faculties might be faulty, but Etta’s were not. Cait knew she couldn’t slip anything past her.

“I’m not sure. I’ll go see.”

Etta’s bony fingers wrapped around her forearm, stopping her. “Don’t lie to me, girl.”

“High Five’s in trouble. I’ll explain later.”

“Fine.” She released her hold. “Did you check on Miss Dorie?”

“Yes. She’s digging clothes out of the trunk and reliving happier times.”

“Lordy, Lordy, is she ever gonna snap out of it?”

“We just have to be patient and gentle with her.”

“Yeah.” Etta glanced toward the parlor. “What are you waiting for?”

Cait smiled briefly. “Maybe a shot of courage.”

Etta held up the spoon. “Will this help?”

“You bet.”

Moments later, Caitlyn walked into the room, her boots dragging on the hardwood floor. The parlor looked the same as it had in the seventies, with velvet drapes and heavy antique furniture. Judd stood in the middle of the room on an Oriental rug that had seen better days. He held his hat in his hand, along with more blasted papers.

Oh, yes, a gentleman always removed his hat in the company of a lady. Judd had always had impeccable manners. Too bad they didn’t come with real emotion, real feelings.

“What is it, Judd?” She stood a good twelve feet away, but still felt the power of his presence. Her lungs squeezed tight and a feeling from her past surfaced. She was nineteen, young and in—oops…The four-letter word wasn’t in her vocabulary anymore. She’d replaced it with one that would scorch his ears.

“You left in such a hurry you forgot your copy of the sale of the royalties and your father’s codicil to his will. You might need them to show your sisters.” Judd held the papers toward her.

She crossed her arms and made no move to take them. “You could have sent someone with them. Brenda Sue goes right by here on her way home. Why are you here?”

Her direct question didn’t faze him. He laid the papers on an end table by the settee. Cait noticed the film of dust there. Damn! Etta’s eyes weren’t the best anymore and Cait didn’t have time for housework. She had a ranch to run. And what did she care if Judd saw their home wasn’t immaculate.

“I had a reason for coming,” he said, jolting her out of her thoughts.

“What would that be?”

His eyes caught and held hers. She wanted to look away but couldn’t. “I wanted to urge you once again to sell now and get it over with.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t think I can run this ranch successfully without the royalties?”

“You haven’t so far.”

“I—”

He held up a hand. “Don’t make this about you and me. Do what’s right for your family.”

“You made this about you and me.” Her voice rose with anger. “You want me to pay for daring to walk away from Judd Calhoun. Maybe even beg. It ain’t happening, mister.”

His lips formed a thin line. “I was harsh this afternoon. A lot of that old resentment came back. Bottom line, Caitlyn, you lived away from here a lot of years. It shouldn’t be a problem to do that again.”

“I lived away because my father didn’t want me here. It wasn’t voluntary.” Despite every effort, she couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice.

“You made that decision. No one else.”

She stepped closer to him, his woodsy masculine scent doing a number on her senses. “Yes, I did. At the time, you didn’t even care enough to ask why I made that decision.”

He gripped his Stetson so tight he bent the rim. “You wanted me to beg you to stay?”

“No. I wanted to talk. I wanted to have a say in our wedding, our marriage, our life.”

He drew back. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You planned the wedding.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “I was to wear your mother’s wedding dress and the wedding would be at Southern Cross. Soon after, I was to produce babies and heirs, preferably all male.”

He frowned deeply. “My father requested that you wear my mother’s dress and—”

“No. He demanded, and you backed him up.” She cut him off faster than a road hog on the freeway. “I was never asked. Every freaking woman on the planet dreams of picking out her own damn wedding dress.”

“It’s a little late to be discussing this now.”

“You got it, so take your offer of a sale and stuff it. I have six months and I’m taking every second of that time.”

“Your sisters might have something to say about that.”

“I can handle my sisters.”

He stared at her and she resisted the urge to move away. He was too close, too powerful. But she stood her ground, despite shaky knees and an even shakier disposition.

“You’ve gotten hard, Caitlyn,” he remarked, his eyes roaming over her face. Heat rose in her abdomen and traveled up to bathe her cheeks.

“Really? Your own edges are so hard they’d cut glass,” she retorted.

His eyes met hers then. “That’s what you did to us.” Saying that, he walked out.

She sucked in a breath and an errant tear slipped from her eye. He had to have the last word, and it was effective, engaging all her feminine emotions. Guilt invaded her conscience and that made her mad.

Judd Calhoun would not get to her.



AFTER SUPPER, they sat at the kitchen table and talked about the future. Etta, Rufus and Cooper were all the help Caitlyn had, and they always ate together. Cooper lived in the bunkhouse, and Etta and Rufus’s home was the first log cabin that Caitlyn’s forefathers had built on the property.

Etta took a seat after checking on Gran. Cait had decided not to tell her grandmother until she felt Gran was ready to hear the news.

“How is she?” Cait asked.

“Still playing with those old clothes. Miss Dorie needs to get a grip on reality, but I don’t know how she’s going to handle what’s happening now. Lordy, Lordy.” Etta shook her head. “But I know one thing. I’m not playing Prissy from Gone with the Wind again. Enough is enough.”

“Now you’d make a good Prissy,” Ru said, chewing on a toothpick. “A mite too skinny, though.”

“Now you listen here—”

Caitlyn made a time-out sign. “Take a breather. We have bigger problems than Gran’s make-believe. I’m open for suggestions.”

Coop rested his forearms on the old oak table. “June is a couple of days away and we’ll have plenty of hay to bale. We can keep what we need and sell the rest. And, of course, sell some of the stock.”

Cait took a sip of her tea. “I only want to do that as a last resort. Without cattle we can’t operate this ranch.”

“Don’t worry about my wages, Cait,” Coop said. “I have a place to live, and food. All I need are a few bucks for beer, and gas for my truck.”

“Same goes for Etta and me,” Rufus added.

“I appreciate everyone’s help. My sisters will be here in a few days and we’ll decide what to do.”

“No offense—” Coop swiped a hand through his sandy-blond hair “—but they’re city girls. They don’t know much about ranching.”

“They’re owners of High Five, though, same as me.”

“Yep.” Ru reached for his worn hat. “Things are getting rough around here. I think I’ll mosey over to our place and stretch out for a while.”

“Just wipe your feet before you go in,” Etta told him.

“Woman, don’t be a pain in my ass.”

Cait was in the process of interrupting when there was a loud knock on the back door.

Chance Hardin, Etta and Rufus’s nephew, poked his head in. “Hey, I wondered where everyone was.”

When Etta’s brother and sister-in-law were killed in a car accident, Etta and Rufus had taken in their three boys. Chance was the only one still around High Cotton, and he checked on his aunt and uncle often.

“Chance.” Etta threw herself at him and hugged him tightly.

“Let him go, for heaven sakes,” Ru said. “You’re gonna choke him to death.”

Cait noticed Ru squeezing Chance’s shoulder, too. They were both glad to see him.

Etta drew back, her bony fingers smoothing her nephew’s chambray shirt. “Why didn’t you call and let us know you were coming? We’d have waited supper. Are you hungry? We have plenty.”

“No. I’ve already eaten. I was just passing by and wanted to say hi.”

“Hi, Chance,” Caitlyn said.

“Ah, Cait, the most beautiful woman in High Cotton.”

She grinned. “Yeah. Me and every woman you meet.”

He met her grin with a stellar one of his own. “Damn. Beautiful and smart. Can’t beat that with a sledgehammer.” He turned to Cooper. “Hey, Coop.”

“Chance.” The cowboy shook his hand. “What are you doing these days?”

“Working my butt off for the big oil companies.”

“You still out on the rigs?”

“You bet. Pays good money. We’re drilling over at the McGruder place, about thirty miles from here.”

“I know. I’ve been by the place a few times and saw a lot dump trucks going in and out of there.”

“Yeah. Old man McGruder is smart as a whip. This is the second well we’ve drilled on his property, and he probably has money coming out the wazoo. But now he’s selling sand and gravel off his land.”

“Who buys it, and for what?” Cait asked curiously.

“He sold a lot of sand and gravel to the oil company. They have to have it to build roads to the oil pads, so the big rig and trucks can go in and out without getting stuck. Of course, we had to have water for drilling, so Mr. McGruder got a new water well. They use the pea gravel for drilling, too. He’s also selling sand to a home builder who uses it for the foundation of new houses.”

“Bart did that back in the eighties when things got a little tight,” Rufus said.

“Where?” Cait asked, not remembering that.

“The southwest pasture. We don’t run cattle there.”

“How about some pie?” Etta interrupted.

Caitlyn picked up the leftover chocolate pie from the table and handed it to her. “Go spend some time with Chance. I’ll clean the kitchen.”

“No, I—”

Cait gently nudged them out the door, knowing they wanted to visit.

“I’ll help,” Coop offered.

Within minutes they had the kitchen clean. Cait laid the dish towel over the edge of the sink.

“Are you okay?” the cowboy asked.

She wiped her hands down her faded jeans. “Not really. I don’t know how I’m going to save this ranch. With the oil and gas royalties, I was able to rebuild the herd Dad had sold. We were just getting to a point were we might show a profit. But if we have to sell off cows that won’t happen.”

“A calf crop will be ready to market in June. That will help.”

“Yeah, but it won’t be enough to see us through a dry summer.” She massaged her temples. “It’s a bitch when the past comes back and bites you in the butt.”

Coop leaned against the cabinet. “How much gambling money did your dad owe?”

Cait dropped her hands. “I didn’t ask.” And she should have. Where was her brain? Going down guilt avenue at full throttle. Damn it. That should have been her first question. But her senses were too busy remembering what it was like to be in love with Judd.

“Those people are not pleasant when they don’t get their money.”

“Judd mentioned that.”

“Maybe Judd was the only solution for Dane, for High Five.”

She pointed a finger at Cooper. “Oh, please. Don’t you dare go over to his side.”

“I’m not, but you know how your father was. He never had a spending limit.”

“I know.” She stretched her shoulders, wishing she could close her eyes and the nightmare would go away.

“I saw Judd’s truck here this afternoon.”

“Yeah. He was doing what he does best, pressuring me to sell.”

There was silence for a moment.

“I wasn’t here all those years ago when you broke the engagement, but I assume you had a good reason.”

Cait thought about that. Would a man understand? Cooper was her best friend. She told him a lot of things, but sharing her feelings about Judd wasn’t on the table.

“Okay, that’s a little personal, and I don’t do personal,” Coop said quickly. “Think I’ll head to the bunkhouse and nurse a beer.”

“Think I’ll head to the study and nurse a gigantic headache named Judd Calhoun.”

Coop smiled. “See you in the morning.”

Caitlyn walked upstairs to check on Gran. She was curled up on a chaise longue, asleep in a dress from the forties, with her long white hair cascading over her shoulder.

Kissing her wrinkled cheek, Cait whispered, “Dream on, Gran.” With a sigh, she sank down to the floor beside her. Resting her head on her grandmother’s hand, she picked up a high-necked dress from the thirties.

So many people depended on her: Gran, her sisters, Etta, Rufus and Cooper. What would they do if High Five was sold?

Judd had her by…What was it that guys said? By the short hairs? All she knew was that Judd had her where it hurt. Bad.

She fingered the dress, which smelled of mothballs, willing herself to come up with a way to get the money she needed to save her home.

Wait a minute. She sat up straight and threw the dress into the trunk. Why hadn’t she thought of it before?




CHAPTER FIVE


EARLY THE NEXT MORNING Caitlyn was on the way to Mr. McGruder’s. She wanted information about selling sand and gravel. She could have called, but Mr. McGruder was the kind of man who responded better when talking face-to-face. Being of the older generation, he didn’t care for phones all that much. He liked the personal touch.

It didn’t take her long to get the buyer’s name and number. She didn’t ask about price because she knew McGruder wouldn’t divulge it.

Back in her office, she called only to learn the man had all the suppliers he needed. Damn! She told him to keep her in mind if he ever needed another one, and gave him her name and phone number.

By the time she hung up, all the excitement had oozed out of her and she felt stupid. Their financial situation wasn’t going to be that easy to fix. There must be a black cloud over her head or something, but she didn’t have time to wallow in misery. There was work to be done.

She saddled Jazzy, her brown quarter horse, and set out to join Coop and Rufus. Red neighed from across the fence. The mare didn’t like it when Cait rode another horse, but Jaz was for work. Red she rode for pleasure.

The day was already getting hot. Cait pulled her straw hat lower to shade her face. Her arms were protected from the sun by a long-sleeved, pearl-snap shirt. The sun was hell on a woman’s skin.

Coop came to meet her riding a bay gelding. “We have a good count of calves in this pasture to go in June, and we have a lot more on the ground, maybe a September sale.”

They ran a mixed-breed cow-and-calf operation now. Cait’s father had sold the registered stock years ago. In High Five’s heyday her great-grandfather would have nothing but purebreds on his property. But it took time and money to keep records of an animal’s ancestry, so that wasn’t an option for the ranch anymore.

“We can make this work.” Coop glanced around at the knee-deep coastal the cows and calves were standing in. “They have plenty to eat and all we have to do is supply water, salt and minerals.”

Cait moved restlessly in the saddle. “It’s the summer I’m worried about. When the coastal has been eaten and we have barren dry ground.”

“We’ll rotate the pastures like always.”

Cait’s gaze swept over the grazing cattle. “Where’s Ru?”

“Checking the windmill.”

“Good. We have to make sure they have water at all times.”

“I’m heading for the northeast pasture. Catch you later.” Coop kneed his horse and then pulled up again. “Whoa, we got company.”

Cait noticed the riders, too—Albert Harland, the Southern Cross foreman, and two cowboys. Harland was mean as a rattlesnake, sneaky as a ferret, and resembled the latter. His number one goal was to make life as miserable as possible for Caitlyn. He thought she was uppity and didn’t know her place.

He stopped just short of galloping into her. If he thought she was going to show fear, then the man didn’t have a brain cell that was actively working.

“Mornin’, Miss Belle.” He tipped his hat and grinned like a possum eating persimmons.

“Harland.” She folded her hands over the saddle horn. “Is there a problem?”

“Yep.” The saddle protested from his weight. “The fence is down again on this pasture. One of your bulls, the big black one, keeps getting into our registered cows, and Mr. Calhoun would appreciate it if you’d take care of your fences and keep your mangy bull away. It costs us money every time he breeds a cow. You got it?”

Anger shot through her veins like a rocket. “I got it.”

“And if I catch that bull on the Southern Cross again, I’ll shoot him. Do I make myself clear?”

“You bag of—”

Harland broke into Coop’s effusive tirade. “Yates, if I catch you on the Southern Cross, I’ll shoot first and ask questions later. Ex-cons aren’t welcome there.” He jerked his reins to turn his horse, but Caitlyn reached out and grabbed them, effectively stopping the horse. And rider.

“What the hell?” the foreman spluttered.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Harland. That gun business works both ways. If Judd Calhoun doesn’t want to see a lot of dead registered cows sprawled on his property, then I suggest you think twice before shooting my bull.”

“Why, you—”

“And if you even look crossways at Cooper, you’re gonna have a whole lot of mad woman coming your way. Got it?”

“Bitch,” Harland muttered, and jerked his horse away.

“Give your boss the message,” she shouted as they rode off her land.

“Damn, Cait.” Coop stared at her with a startled expression. “You can bullshit better than anyone I know.” His eyes narrowed. “Or did you mean that?”

She shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. “Actually, if I had to shoot any living thing, I’d probably throw up.” She lifted an eyebrow. “But I can talk a good game. I did mean what I said about you, though.” She turned her horse. “Now let’s go get ol’ Boss before he gets us into any more trouble.”

They’d named the bull Boss because he fought every bull that came within his chosen territory. He liked having the cream of the crop, and usually that included their neighbor’s cows.

Caitlyn and Cooper crossed onto Judd’s ranch through the broken barbed wire, and found the bull easily, smack-dab in the middle of a herd of high-class registered cows. He was busy sniffing every animal in sight.

“This could prove to be a little difficult,” Coop said, pulling up alongside Cait. The two of them watched the two-thousand-pound bull chasing cows. “He’s not going to like having his fun interrupted.”

“Any ideas?” she asked as she caught sight of Harland and his cowboys on the horizon. They were watching, waiting for her to make a fool of herself.

“The old-fashioned way?” Coop suggested.

“Okay.” She knew cattle and she knew horses, and both were unpredictable. Cait wasn’t counting on Boss being docile and following her to High Five. He was in the midst of sealing a thirty-second love affair with a high-priced cow, and he wasn’t going to take their intrusion kindly. “Let’s give our quarter horses a workout. Ready?”

“Yep. Watch those sawed-off horns.”

“I’ll take the left,” Cait said as she meandered into the herd. Coop moved to the right of the bull.

The cows scattered, and as soon as Boss spotted the riders, he swung his head in an agitated manner and pawed at the ground with a you’ll-never-take-me stance. Cait patted Jaz’s neck. “Okay, let’s show him who’s the boss.”

They effectively cut him away from the herd, and Boss wasn’t happy. He charged, but Jaz did her magic, swinging back and forth, not letting him get by. The bull charged the other way, but Coop was there, blocking his path. Boss swung toward Cait again and she let Jaz work the way she’d been trained. The quick moves had Cait on full alert. She had to stay focused and not lose her balance.

As the bull switched gears and charged toward Coop yet again, Caitlyn pulled the Hot-Shot cattle prod from her saddle and rode in and zapped the animal from the rear.

Not liking the sting, Boss spun round and round, snot flying from his nose, and then made a dead run for High Five.

“Hot damn,” Coop shouted. He rode right on the bull’s tail, whooping and hollering.

Jaz was ready to run, too, and Cait had a hard time controlling her. As Jaz pranced around, Cait saw that Judd had joined Harland and the boys. There was no mistaking him. She backed up Jaz with a quick step, thumbed her nose at the watching crowd, then hightailed it for High Five. She didn’t even mind eating Coop’s and Boss’s dust.

“Yee haw,” she cried, just for the hell of it, immensely grateful she hadn’t made a fool of herself. Or maybe that was a matter of opinion.

When she caught up with Coop, he was watching Boss refamiliarize himself with the High Five herd, sniffing each cow to make sure he hadn’t missed one while he was rambling.

“That bull has one insatiable appetite.”

“It keeps calves on the ground,” Cait said, trying not to smile. “Now let’s fix that fence.” She turned Jaz and saw the rider coming their way. “Now what?”

Judd, tall and impressive in the saddle, was headed toward her. He rode a magnificent black stallion, as magnificent as the man himself. Both exuded strength, power and a touch of splendor. And she could be suffering from too much sun, because Judd had more of a touch of the devil than of splendor.

“I’m going to get Rufus,” Coop said. “You’re on your own.”

“Gee, thanks.” She nudged her horse forward to meet her neighbor, wiping dust from her mouth with the back of her hand. At that moment she realized what a sight she must look, with dust from her hat to her boots and sweat staining her blouse. She smelled as foul as her horse, and the fact rubbed like a cocklebur against the feminine side of her nature.

“Why are you playing rodeo in my herd?”

“I was told to get my bull out, and that’s what I did.” She kept her voice neutral and didn’t react to his angry tone.

“My boys could have cut him out much easier.” His tone didn’t change.

She rose a bit in the saddle and the leather creaked. “I thought I did a damn good job myself, considering time was of the essence.”

He squinted against the noonday sun. “What do you mean?”

“Harland said he was going to shoot him if I didn’t get him out in a nanosecond. Something about ‘registered cows’ and ‘Judd Calhoun wasn’t pleased.’”

His face tightened into those taut lines she knew so well. “I never said anything about shooting the bull. You have my word he won’t be shot. Just keep the damn animal on your property.”

A quick thank-you rose in her throat, but his last sentence killed the idea like a blast from a shotgun, successfully scattering it to the saner regions of her mind.

“That’s what I’m doing,” she said through clenched teeth.

He motioned over his shoulder. “I’ll have the fence repaired.”

“I can fix the fence.”

“I want it done right and not half-ass.”

Any other time she would have spat holy hell at his high-handedness. But it would take money to repair the fence properly, money she didn’t have. For the sake of High Five she pushed her pride aside. And the weight was heavy. It took her a full minute to nod her head.

He stood in the stirrups and picked up his reins. Suddenly he eased his butt back against the leather, his black eyes holding hers with a gleam she remembered from her younger days—a gleam of playful teasing. Talk about a blast from the past. It was so unexpected it almost knocked her out of the saddle.

“Your blouse is open.”

She glanced down and saw that two snaps were undone, revealing the white lace of her bra. They must have come open when she was bulldogging Boss. Oh, sh…

Raising her eyes to his, she replied, “I know. I like it that way. It’s cooler.”

“It might give Yates the wrong idea.”

“Maybe. But that’s none of your business.”

He inclined his head, and she wondered if he remembered all the times he had undone her blouse, and what had followed afterward. With all the women who’d followed her in his life, she doubted it. But she remembered the tantalizing brush of his fingers and the excitement that had leaped through her—much as it was doing now. Some memories were gold plated and stored in secret places. Why she’d chosen this moment to review them was unclear.

“Enjoy the fresh air.” He kneed the stallion, and the horse responded beautifully, turning on a dime and kicking up dirt. She watched rider and horse until they disappeared into the distance.

Then she slowly snapped her shirt closed.



JUDD GAVE BARON HIS HEAD and they flew through fields of coastal and herds of cattle. They sliced through the wind effortlessly, but no matter how fast the stallion ran, Judd couldn’t outrun the fire in his gut from when he’d looked at Caitlyn.

He shouldn’t feel this way after all these years. How could he hate her and react like this? All he could think about was reaching out and undoing the rest of those snaps, lifting her from the saddle and then sliding with her to the grass. Nothing existed but the two of them, and together they rode to places only lovers knew about….

His hat flew off and he slowed. He turned Baron and headed back for it. Reaching down, he swiped it from the ground. After dusting it off, he galloped toward home. And put every memory of Caitlyn out of his mind. That came easy. He’d been doing it for years.

Over the ridge, Harland and the cowboys were waiting. Judd stopped.

“Get supplies and fix that fence today,” he said to the foreman. “I don’t want that bull back in my herd.”

“You want us to fix the fence?” Harland asked, a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

Being second-guessed rubbed Judd the wrong way. Harland questioned too many of his orders, and he wanted it stopped.

“Do you have a problem with that?” he asked, his eyes locking with the other man’s.

“No, sir, but—”

“On the Southern Cross, I’m the boss and what I say goes. If that doesn’t suit you, you’re welcome to leave. Now.”

“C’mon, Judd, I’ve worked here a long time. I just thought Miss Belle should be the one to fix the fence. Her bull broke it.”

“Miss Belle would only patch it. I want it fixed right. In a few months her place will become a part of Southern Cross and I don’t want to have to redo it.”

Harland grinned. “I knew you had a damn good reason. I’ll get the boys right on it.”

“Another thing, and I hope I’m clear about this—do not shoot that bull or any neighbor’s animal that strays onto our property. I don’t do business that way. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. I was only trying to scare her.”

“Miss Belle doesn’t scare that easily.”

Judd kneed Baron and rode on toward the barn. Nothing scared Caitlyn, except losing High Five. That was her deepest fear and he knew it. Knowing your enemy’s weakness was half the battle. Victory was just a matter of time.

It was his goal, what he’d dreamed about for fourteen years. But as he dismounted, all he could see and think about was her open blouse and the curve of her breast.




CHAPTER SIX


CAITLYN RODE BACK TO THE house about two to check on Gran. She hadn’t been up when Cait had left that morning.

Chance’s truck was parked outside, and when she went in, Gran, Etta and he were at the table, just finishing lunch. Gran was dressed in her normal slacks and blouse, and her hair was pinned at her nape. She looked like she used to, and Cait prayed her grandmother was back to her old self.

“Caitlyn, baby, we have a visitor,” Gran said. “Chance is having lunch with us.”

He winked. “Etta wouldn’t let me leave without eating one of her home-cooked meals.”

“We see you so little.” Etta carried dishes to the sink.

Caitlyn placed her hat on the rack. “Leaving so soon?”

“Yep.” Chance stood. “We’re through at the McGruders and we’re packing up and heading for east Texas.” He kissed his aunt’s cheek. “I’ll call. Thanks for the lunch, Miss Dorie.”

Caitlyn followed him outside. “Would you do me a favor, please?”

Chance settled his hat on his head. “Anything, beautiful lady.”

“If you hear of anyone needing sand or gravel, would you send them my way?”

“Sure. Etta told me about High Five’s problem. I’m sorry, Cait.”

“Thank you. Find me a buyer and I’ll love you forever.”

“Yeah.” He smiled broadly. “They all say that.”

She waved as he drove away, and then she went back inside.

Gran was on the phone. Replacing the receiver, she smiled at Caitlyn. “That was Madison. She’s coming for a visit.” Dorie looked past Cait. “Is your father with you? He’s going to be so excited.”

Cait felt as if someone had just lassoed her around the neck and yanked the rope tight. She struggled to breathe. Gran was not back to normal. The doctors had said to tell her the truth, so that’s what Cait did, even though it made her throat feel rusty and dry.

“Gran, Dad is dead.”

“Yes.” A look of sadness clouded her brown eyes. “I forget sometimes.”

Caitlyn hugged her. “It’s okay to forget—sometimes.”

But Cait never forgot, not for a second. Her father’s death filled her every waking moment and all the dreams that tortured her nights. She wasn’t the son he’d wanted. At her age she should be beyond that childhood feeling of inadequacy. Why wasn’t she?

Gran drew back, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “But it’s exciting that Maddie’s coming home, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. When is she arriving?”

Gran frowned. “I forget.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cait reassured her. She would call Maddie back.

“Okay. I’m going upstairs, to pull out all the dresses that will look great on Madison. With her blond hair and blue eyes, she’d make a great Ingrid Bergman. Casablanca. Oh, yes, we’re going to have so much fun.”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/linda-warren/caitlyn-s-prize/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.