Caitlyn's Prize

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.