Linda Warren - Caitlyn's Prize

“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.