Читать книгу Son of Texas - Linda Warren, Linda Warren - Страница 9

WHEN CALEB REACHED his office, Eli, his half brother, was waiting for him. Tuck was Eli’s foster brother and had told him the news. Because he’d been the one who’d rescued Belle, at times he felt responsible for her life.

“How is she?” Eli asked, a note of worry in his voice.

Eli was a big muscular man and the only son who had Joe McCain’s blue eyes.

“She’s scared.” There was no reason to lie.

“She’s been scared for a long time.”

“Yeah. But this is different.” He sank into his chair. “I think I’m a little scared, too.” That wasn’t easy for him to admit.

Eli watched him. “Let me take her back. End the relationship now and spare yourself the pain.”

Caleb slowly removed his hat. “Would you have let me help Caroline?”

“Hell, no.”

“My answer is the same.”

Eli nodded. “Then I’ll go with you. Between the two of us, we can protect her and make sure no one gets the chance to hurt her again.”

Caleb lifted an eyebrow. “What about Caroline?”

“She’ll understand.”

She probably would, Caleb thought. They both cared and worried about Belle. But something held him back.

He laid his hat on his desk, running his finger over the rim of the Stetson. “I have to do this alone. I have to do it for her—and for me.”

Eli nodded, understanding as Caleb knew he would. “Just nail the bastard who put her through hell.”

“I intend to.”

“And Caleb…”

“What?” Caleb saw the concern in Eli’s eyes and knew exactly what the concern was about. “I’ll be fine, Eli.”

“But it won’t be easy.”

“No.” It wasn’t going to be easy to return Belle to another life—a life without him in it—and Eli understood that. Even though they’d only known each other a short time, their bond was close—as brothers should be.

They talked a bit more then Eli left for his office. Caleb took care of things that needed his immediate attention before the trip, then he headed home, packed his clothes and dressed for the ball.

BELLE WAS IN A RUSH all day and didn’t have time to dwell on a lot of painful thoughts. Gertie had a hundred things for her to do and she was glad to soak in a hot tub before she dressed for the evening. She stared at the black gown with a V-neck and long sleeves. Sequins decorated the bodice and glistened like tiny stars. The pencil-slim skirt had a slit up the side, showing off her leg and ankles. The dress was expensive and she’d balked at the extravagance when she’d first started working for Gertie. But Gertie insisted it was part of the job. Belle had to dress the part, so she acquiesced. But she was sure she’d never worn clothes like this before. They didn’t feel familiar.

She braided her hair, entwining a sparkly ribbon through it, and coiled it into a knot at the back of her head, curling several loose tendrils around her face. She’d done her hair like this before. When she was small, her mother had done Josie’s hair the same way. Many times. Marie would brush Josie’s hair until it shone, then she would braid it to keep it out of her eyes. As Josie grew older Marie would interweave a colorful ribbon to match Josie’s clothes. For the prom, Marie had done Josie’s hair just as it was now.

Belle’s cheeks felt warm from the memory of her wonderful mother. She was remembering more now and her heart hammered so fast she had to take a deep breath.

Later she would relive the memories until they were permanent, never to be forgotten or destroyed again. But now she had to concentrate on the evening.

She slipped on sandaled heels and buckled the strap across the ankle. Standing, she felt light-headed from the height. Good grief, how was she supposed to walk in these things? Wearing heels this high obviously wasn’t a part of her daily life. After a few trips around her bedroom, she went to help Gertie.

CALEB WAS AT GERTIE’S on time and when he saw Belle, his heart stopped. She was more than beautiful. She was radiant, and Caleb felt privileged to have her on his arm.

The night was melancholy. Caleb and Belle were both aware that tomorrow their lives would change. Caleb put it out of his mind and enjoyed the evening. The ball was in full swing and Caleb held her close as they danced the slow tunes and laughed as they cut up during the fast ones. They didn’t talk much. They didn’t need to.

They circled the dance floor to “Moon River,” his hand at her back, her head on his shoulder. Through the thin fabric of her dress, his fingers felt the scars on her back. He forced down the anger in him, not wanting any reminders of what the cult had done to her.

“I like to dance,” she said.

“I know.” They’d been dancing several times in the past year.

“Some things you just don’t forget.” She raised her head, her eyes twinkling. “We dance so well together, Caleb McCain. I must have known you in another life.”

He just smiled, wishing that was true—that he was the man in Belle’s life. But he was her protector, her friend, and another man was waiting for her. Of that Caleb was certain. But tonight she was his.

Several other men asked Belle to dance and he stood on the sidelines trying to let go. He was just amazed at the change in her. A few months ago Belle was a frightened woman, not wanting anyone to touch her. She was now unafraid of human touch, but she still had issues about her back and didn’t want anyone to see the scars. When Josie surfaced completely, he wondered how she would deal with it.

The auction started and Belle and Caleb took their seats. Gertie’s bird-hat was a big hit and Caleb almost choked when it sold for ten thousand dollars. Gertie had obviously gotten the word out.

It was after midnight when they returned to the Parker house. Gertie retired to her bedroom and Caleb lingered for a moment in the living room, not wanting this night to end.

“Are you packed?” he asked Belle.

She sat on the sofa, removing her heels. “Yes. What time do you want to leave?”

“How about eight?”

“That’s fine.” She rubbed her feet. “I know one thing. I didn’t wear heels a lot as Josie.”

He grinned. “Probably not as a police officer.”

She leaned back. “I can’t remember anything about that.”

“You will.”

“Yes.”

There was an awkward pause as they both dealt with an uncertain future.

Caleb was the first to speak. “I better go so you can get some rest.”

“Good night.”

“Good night, Belle.” He said her name slowly, reverently, and probably for the last time. As he walked out, he jerked off his tie. Tomorrow she’d find her family and answers. Tomorrow she might recover her memory completely.

And Caleb would return alone.

THE NEXT MORNING Belle was up early, her few meager belongings packed into a suitcase. She said a tearful goodbye to Gertie and her pets, then went downstairs to wait for Caleb.

Within minutes she was in Caleb’s Tahoe headed out of Austin to Beckett. She felt a sense of foreboding and couldn’t shake it. Conversation was slow as they took I-35 then the I-410 Loop toward Corpus Christi.

“Have you remembered anything else?” Caleb asked, sensing her nervousness and wanting to put her at ease.

She shrugged. “Not much. Just bits and pieces from my childhood.” She turned in her seat to face him. “The rest of it is there and even though I’m still afraid, I’m ready for it all to unfold.”

He knew she was. He suddenly realized that his issues with his father were nothing compared to what she’d been through and had yet to face. And he’d never leave her. Until she asked.

“Did you tell your parents where you were going?” she asked, and he knew she wanted to change the subject.

“Yes. I saw them yesterday and they’re very happy you’re regaining your memory.”

She smiled slightly. “You have very good parents.”

Belle had met them on several occasions and his parents liked her. She got along well with people. He returned her smile, knowing his parents were great.

“You were lucky to have Andrew for a father instead of Joe McCain.”

She always seemed to know what he was thinking.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I hope I never forget that.”

“You won’t.” She was quiet for a moment and he glanced at her. Her brow was creased in thought. Suddenly she said, “I had good parents, too.” Her eyes were distant. “My father loved my mother since they were kids. My mother’s father worked on the Silver Spur Ranch and when my mom was old enough she started working in the main house as a maid.”

Caleb didn’t think she even realized she was remembering, so he let her talk.

“My father went off to college and it broke my mom’s heart, but he came back often to see her. When he graduated, Boone said it was time for him to get married and start producing heirs. He had the bride all picked out and it wasn’t Marie Cortez. My father was torn between family loyalty and my mother. In the end, he married Lorna Caraway and my mother left the ranch and never returned.”

Caleb waited, but she didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t sure how much to push. “Was your mother pregnant when she left?”

Belle shook her head. “No. My father couldn’t stay in the arranged marriage so he left to find my mother.”

“What happened to the first wife?”

She frowned deeply. “She was very angry at my father for leaving her. She was four months pregnant at the time.”

There was a tangible pause and Caleb went on pure instinct. “So you have a half sibling?”

She gripped her head. “I suppose. Why can’t I remember?”

“Don’t get stressed out,” he cautioned, turning on US 281 toward Three Rivers. “How about something to eat and drink? I didn’t have a thing but coffee this morning. How about you?”

“I had a muffin and fruit with Ms. Gertie, but I’d love a cup of coffee.”

They stopped at a small diner in Three Rivers. The trip was three and a half hours and they were more than halfway. Caleb ordered coffee and they sat in a booth.

Belle pulled a Snickers out of her purse. “Want a candy bar?”

“No, thanks.” He hid a secret grin at her chocolate fetish. She never went anywhere without chocolate.

The waitress brought coffee and Belle nibbled on the bar, licking her lips. He watched as if mesmerized.

“Her name is Ashley,” Belle said suddenly.

“What?” Caleb wasn’t sure what she was talking about. He was totally absorbed in her mouth and tongue.

“My half sister, that’s her name.”

“Oh.”

Caleb took a sip of coffee and waited for her to continue.

“That doesn’t feel right, though.” Belle clutched her cup, and her turmoil tightened his gut.

“Don’t push it. We’ll be in Beckett soon and hopefully some of your questions will be answered.”

Her eyes suddenly sparkled. “You and I have something in common. We both have a half sibling.”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her face, that light in her eyes.

“I hope my sister is as nice as Eli.”

Caleb wished that, too, and he wished all her memories would unfold like a fairy tale. But the stark truth was someone tried to kill her, possibly someone in her own family.

“Lorna is my father’s ex-wife.” Belle seemed to be remembering tidbits at her own pace. “And I have an uncle—Mason is his name, I believe. And I remember Caddo.”

“Who is Caddo?”

“I don’t know. I just remember the name and I get a good feeling inside when I do. I must have liked him.”

Caleb toyed with his cup. He knew she wasn’t married, but little things pointed to a boyfriend, a fiancé maybe. When she’d started remembering in the hospital, she’d said that he’d bought her Egyptian cotton sheets and she’d told him they were too expensive. She could never pinpoint who he was, and she hadn’t mentioned him since. Maybe Caddo was the man she’d been talking about.

He pushed his jealousy down, keeping her best interest uppermost in his mind. “Could Caddo be a boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s not that kind of feeling. It’s more of a friendship reaction.”

That was a relief, but Caleb knew if it wasn’t Caddo, it was someone else. And he had to accept that.

Soon they left and Caleb held the door for an elderly man, puffing on a cigar. Belle twitched her nose as they walked to the car. “That cigar is so strong.”

“They’ll probably make him put it out,” Caleb remarked, getting into the truck.

They turned onto US 59 toward Beckett. The land was flat with scrub oaks, bushes, mesquite and plenty of cacti. This was farming and ranch land enclosed with barbed wire fences.

“Are you okay?” Caleb asked after she remained quiet for several minutes.

“I’m remembering all these names, but I don’t feel a connection to any of them.”

“You said you came to Beckett after your parents died. The report said you’d been there less than a year so you probably didn’t get to know anyone very well.”

“Well enough that someone put a bullet in my head. I keep asking myself why. Why would someone shoot me? And why did I wake up in Austin? That’s three and a half hours from Beckett.”

“We’ll find out soon enough.” Caleb had no answers for her, he only had the same questions. She was so sweet, so completely enchanting. He couldn’t imagine anyone having a grudge against her or wanting to hurt her.

“Yeah.” She glanced out the window

“Do you remember anything about your grandfather?” That bothered Caleb the most. How could a powerful man like Boone Beckett not report his granddaughter missing?

The scent of the cigar triggered a memory. “He’s a controlling manipulative person.” Belle watched the barbed wire fences flash by and Boone suddenly filled her mind. She closed her eyes as a scene became vivid.

“I’m Boone Beckett, Brett’s father.” The bear of a man standing in her parents’ living room introduced himself. He puffed on a cigar and the smoke spiraled around his face. The wind left her lungs and she couldn’t speak.

“Did you hear me, girlie?” His voice boomed and she had the urge to step back. But she didn’t. Her father had never backed down from him and she wouldn’t, either.

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“I’m here to take my son’s body home to Silver Spur.”

“What about my mother’s?”

His eyes darkened. “Her body will never rest on the Silver Spur. She took him away from his heritage, his family, and I’ll never forgive that.”

Anger welled in her chest. “She didn’t take him away. You forced him to leave by manipulating his life and not allowing him to marry the woman he loved.”

“He could have had any woman he wanted,” Boone shouted.

“He wanted my mother,” she shouted back.

Boone glared at her through narrowed eyes. “Listen, girlie, I’m not arguing with you.” He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. “Sign this and our business is over.”

“What is it?”

“Form to release your father’s body to me.”

She raised her head in defiance. “My father stays buried next to my mother—forever. That’s it.”

“What’s it going to take. Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? Tell you what—I’ll give you fifty thousand dollars and you sign the paper and we’re done.”

“Get out,” she screamed. “Get out and take your money with you.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to, girlie?”

Her eyes blazed. “Unfortunately, yes.”

He stuffed the paper in his pocket. “Since you’re Brett’s daughter I was trying to be nice. Figured you could use the money. But Brett’s body is going home to Silver Spur with or without your approval. All I have to do is get a court order and no judge is going to say no to me.”

“Get out and don’t come back,” she seethed between clenched teeth.

He inclined his head. “You got guts, girl. I’ll give you that, but it’s always smart to know when to cut your losses.”

With that the memory dissipated. She opened her eyes, staring out at the long expanse of highway. Her thoughts were inward, troubled. Had Boone removed her father’s body from the cemetery, from her mother, in Corpus to the Silver Spur Ranch? Think. Think. Think. Did Boone separate her parents? She had to know and she struggled to remember what had happened next. But nothing was there.

“Dammit. Dammit. Tell me.” She gripped her head with both hands.

“Are you okay?”

Caleb’s concerned voice reached her. She blinked, realizing she’d been talking out loud. “Sorry. I was having an insane moment trying to remember something.”

“What?”

“When my parents died, Boone came to Corpus, wanting to take my father’s body back to the Silver Spur Ranch. He demanded that I sign the papers to release the body. I refused and we had words.” She swallowed. “You see, he wanted my father to be buried at Silver Spur, but not my mother. I told him to leave and never come back.”

She paused. “I couldn’t bear the thought of separating my parents. They were so much in love, yet at times there was a sadness in my father that neither my mom nor I could assuage. He loved the Silver Spur and he missed it every day of his life, but Boone made it intolerable for him to live there. My mother was a Mexican and not good enough for a Beckett.”

“Evidently Boone came back.”

“I guess. That’s what I was trying to recall—if he had my father’s body moved away from my mother. I couldn’t live with that.”

“Do you know how you came to live in Beckett?”

Her head felt heavy with all the memories rushing in. “Yes. I was at loose ends after losing my parents. I needed to get away. Boone kept at me about my dad’s body, but I never gave in. Finally he said he’d make a deal with me. He wanted me to come to Silver Spur to see the heritage my father had left behind. If I came and stayed for a while, he’d stop his efforts to move the body. So I went. I wanted to see this place my father talked about all my life.” She took a ragged breath. “Boone didn’t separate my parents, but we were still arguing about it. Boone and I didn’t have the best relationship, and Lorna and Mason seemed to hate me. But I stayed. I’m not sure why.”

“Did you live on the Silver Spur?”

“No. I lived in town with a friend of my mom’s, Lencha Peabody. My mother’s mother died when she was five and Lencha helped raise her. Lencha and her family lived next door. Oh.” She rested her head against the seat with a slight smile. “It’s so nice to remember Lencha. She’s Mexican with a bit of Karankawas Indian. She’s known as a healer and sometimes a witch, but to my mom she was like a mother and I grew up hearing stories about Lencha and her colorful personality. Lencha married a white man, as she called him, Henry Peabody, who was twelve years older and worked on the Silver Spur. He died a few years ago and Lencha was glad to have Marie’s child to fuss over and I felt at home with her.” She lifted her head. “I’m sure she was worried about me. I wonder why she never reported me missing.”

“A lot of this isn’t adding up.”

She frowned. “Do you think I’m remembering it wrong?”

“No. I think you just have a lot more to remember.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “The unknown is so scary.”

“But it’s what we’ve been waiting for—to identify the unknown. Then it won’t be so scary.”

She looked at him. “I’m so glad you’re with me.”

His eyes met hers. “You can count on that.”

“You’re so nice, Caleb McCain, and I’m sure a Texas Ranger isn’t supposed to spend this much time on one case.”

“We don’t stop until the bad guys are caught and in jail and soon the person who shot you will be in jail.”

“Oh. This is Beckett,” she said, glancing back at the city limit sign. “Barely fourteen hundred people live here.”

Caleb turned toward the business area. The town was small, with one main street where all the businesses were located. There were no fancy retail stores, just old-fashioned storefronts that had been there for years. It was like a scene from the 1950s with parking in front of stores and parking meters. A blacksmith shop, feed store and beer joint had weatherworn boards that had stood the test of time. The only new building was the post office.

“Until I can do some checking it’s probably not wise to let people know you’re alive.”

“I agree. We can go to Lencha’s. I trust her.”

“Which direction?”

“Turn left then take Tumbleweed. Lencha’s is about a mile on the right.”

Caleb followed her directions to a small white frame house with a chain-link fence around it.

“Go around back to the garage,” Belle instructed.

Caleb stopped in front of the double garage that had a small truck parked inside. Belle gasped.

“What is it?” Caleb asked.

She pointed to the garage. “That’s my parking spot and my car’s not there.”

Caleb looked at her pale face.

“Evidently I drove away from Beckett.”

“Seems like it.”

“I need to see Lencha.” She opened the door and got out. Caleb followed.

The yard was well kept, but the house needed painting and some outside boards were rotten. There were no close neighbors. Lencha lived on several acres. Farther down were some brick homes then a trailer park.

It was noon, but no one was about. Belle opened the gate and they walked up the back steps. A pleasant scent greeted Caleb and he noticed all the flowering bushes and plants in the flower beds. A huge greenhouse was in back and he glimpsed a large garden filled with all sorts of vegetables and more plants.

Belle knocked but no one answered. “Lencha sometimes gets lost in her own little world,” she said, and opened the door. They went into a utility room that held more plants in pots, then into the kitchen. A birdlike woman in jeans and a chambray shirt was at the sink washing dishes. Long gray hair hung down her back. A squirrel climbed down her back then up again to rest on her shoulder. Caleb blinked, wondering if he was seeing things.

When the squirrel noticed them, she scurried down Lencha’s back to the floor, standing on her hind legs making funny noises.

“What’s wrong with you, Chula?” Lencha asked, looking down at the squirrel. “You’ve had your lunch, so be quiet. I’m not giving you any more corn. You’re fat as a pig now.”

Belle smiled at Chula, Lencha’s pet squirrel. As she stood in the room, soaking up the familiarity, that sense of belonging that she hadn’t had until now—Chula, the hardwood floor, the Formica table and chairs, the sunflower curtains and the scent of herbs and lavender—all were familiar. Lencha grew lavender in the yard and it drifted to her nostrils and saturated her body. A metamorphosis began to happen. She could feel it. It was like shedding a skin and letting new life in. For so long she’d felt like a mismatched piece of furniture that she’d been trying to fit into rooms where she didn’t belong. But this was a part of her and a part of her family.

“Lencha,” she said quietly, almost afraid to speak.

“Lawdy, lawdy, will it never stop?” Lencha dried a dish. “People call me a witch and I’m beginning to believe them. How else could I conjure up her spirit and hear her voice so clearly?”

Lencha didn’t turn around or acknowledge her presence. She put the dish in the cabinet as if Belle wasn’t even standing there.

“Lencha.” She tried again.

Chula scratched at Lencha’s legs.

Glancing down at Chula, Lencha caught sight of Belle, taking in Caleb behind her. “Lawdy, now she’s got a man with her.” Lencha shook her head as to rid herself of the image. “How long will I continue to see her? I’m too old for my mind to be this active.”

Belle finally understood. Lencha thought she was seeing things. She walked closer. “Lencha, it’s me. I’m real and I’m alive.”

Lencha shook her head. “Go away, Josie, and stop torturing an old woman.”

Belle touched her and Lencha jumped back, her eyes big, then in a trembling voice, she asked, “Josie? Josie Marie?”

“Yes, Lencha. It’s me.”

“Heaven above. Santa Maria madre de Dios.” Lencha grabbed her and held her tight. “Josie Marie, you’re back. My precious child, you’re back.” She drew away and stroked Belle’s face. “You’re back.”

“Yes.” She gripped the old lady as tight as she could. Lavender was all around her and a peacefulness came over her. The past connected to the present just that easily. She wiped away an errant tear and stared at Lencha. “Josie Marie is home.”

In that moment she became Josie Marie again. New strength surged through her and the shackles of fear slipped away. Her memory hadn’t completely returned, but it would and she could sort out the rest of her life on her own.

Looking at Caleb, she saw a glimmer of sadness in his eyes. Weak, defenseless Belle Doe was no more. She disappeared the instant Lencha called her Josie, and Caleb knew that. She saw it in his gaze.

A moment of dejection swept over her. She brushed it away with a flicker of remorse. She was Josie Marie Beckett, police officer, looking for the person who’d tried to kill her. She wanted justice for what she’d been put through and she’d find all the answers she needed one way or another. Revenge was such a harsh word, but she wanted revenge or something to explain away the nightmare.

Her eyes settled on Caleb. Surviving her parents’ deaths, being shot and living without a memory seemed minimal compared to what she had to do now. How would she say goodbye to a man like Caleb?