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      To my beautiful, caring, hardworking mom—

      you are the treasure of the family and we value you beyond measure. Love you so much.

       Prologue

      Laila Cates stood on the stage in front of the cheering crowd, dressed in a white evening gown and a blue sash while holding a fresh bouquet of celebratory flowers.

      “A five-time winner!” said the master of ceremonies, whose voice rang through the tent where the pageant was being held. “Give it up for Laila Cates for taking yet another Miss Frontier Days title!”

      She touched the crown on her head. It’d been a long time since she’d been up here. Seven years since she’d stopped entering the pageant, seven years since she’d wanted to be known for more than what was on the outside.

      But this year she’d come back to prove a point to Thunder Canyon.

      Scanning the crowd, she saw the happy faces of the neighbors and friends she’d grown up with. People she worked with at the Thunder Canyon First Fidelity Bank, day in and day out. Her best friend, Dana, who’d entered Laila into the pageant without Laila even knowing it, clapped harder than anyone else.

      She’d been the one who’d dared her to prove a point to the town, and Laila had taken her up on it, singing a song during the talent competition that emphasized a woman’s hard work in this world and the accomplishments all of them could celebrate as they grew older.

      And the judges had clearly appreciated it, recognizing that every year that passed by for a woman could be a plus rather than a negative.

      After the noise subsided, Laila went to the microphone, shaking her head. “So I’m twenty-nine going on thirty. The jump to a new decade seems to be a big deal in most women’s lives. We’re supposed to be leaving behind our best, most youthful years, and truthfully, I’ve been a little nervous about that. I mean, this is when we get wrinkles, right? This is when our looks begin to fade.” She smiled again. “Well, that’s why I decided to compete in the pageant this year, to see if any of that mattered when it comes right down to it.”

      A few hoots, hollers.

      She went on. “You all have shown tonight that age and life experience are important—that they add to who we are and how others see us. And, even though this is definitely my last time competing for the title, I’m looking forward to a new win each year, except not on a stage. In life. In everything.”

      Another round of applause, and Laila gave a jaunty little salute to the crowd, ready to give up the stage to all the other women who wanted to show Thunder Canyon what they had to offer—no matter what their age—in the future.

      That was when the audience parted to let through a strapping, broad-shouldered man with blond hair.

      At first, Laila thought he was merely there to offer congratulations. It was Hollis Cade Pritchett, the man she’d been seeing on and off for years on a casual basis. Cade, as he was known to just about everyone but his sister and her husband, accepted what Laila had professed all along—that she never wanted to get married—and that had apparently suited him just fine.

      Until now, it seemed.

      “Marry me, Laila,” he said loudly.

      As his deep voice carried, Laila blinked, then put her hand over the mic. The device whimpered with feedback as a wave of silence traveled over the audience.

      This wasn’t like Cade, to be joking around. And she suspected that it was a joke, because he was acting…different. Heck, she could even say that the normally levelheaded woodworker might’ve even tipped back a few beers, judging by the high flush on his cheeks. But Cade wasn’t a big drinker.

      So what explained the intensity in his gaze?

      His brother, Dean, broke out of the crowd and stood by Cade, wearing a tight grin and slapping him on the back, buddy-style.

      “Don’t listen to him, Laila,” the youngest Pritchett boy said. “I’m the one you should marry!”

      Okay—now it was pretty obvious from the way Dean slightly slurred that they had been indulging for some odd reason. Like his brother, Dean was the strong, silent type, hardly prone to tomfoolery like this.

      By now, the crowd had broken into a chorus of laughter, urging the Pritchetts on.

      Laila kept her composure, as well as her sense of humor. This was starting to feel like a circus act, but maybe she’d only encouraged that by competing in the pageant at this age when it was supposed to be a young girls’ competition.

      She would take her knocks, because using a pageant title to make a statement about inner beauty was loaded with irony, and not everyone was going to get it.

      It was just another idea some of the townsfolk probably wouldn’t take seriously from her.

      Just then, another man came to the front of the stage—a guy who wasn’t as familiar to Laila, even though she knew darn well who he was.

      Who didn’t?

      Tall, lean and roguish in his jeans, boots and black Western shirt, Jackson Traub was new in town—one of the Texans who’d come to Thunder Canyon to develop his family’s oil shale business.

      And he was also