Linda Warren - Caitlyn's Prize

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.

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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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.