Son of Texas (Count on a Cop) Page 3

  As if sensing his thoughts, Dr. Oliver added, “I know you care deeply for Belle and she was lucky to have someone so unselfish and caring on her side. She has basically overcome the physical abuse of the cult—painful flashbacks and dreams are normal and Belle knows that. But once she becomes aware of the reason why she was shot she has to be able to cope. And I believe she can.”

  “Me, too. Thanks for being so honest.”

  “Belle’s future is in her hands.” She scribbled a number on the back of a business card. “That’s my cell. Call if you feel you need me, but Belle trusts you and you’re probably the best person to reveal tidbits about her past.”

  Caleb tipped his hat and walked out, wondering exactly what the future held—for Belle. And him.

  WHEN HE REACHED the Parker house, Belle was waiting for him. He followed her into the living room. Gertie was upstairs.

  She turned to him. “Did you find my family?”

  He removed his hat and sat on the sofa, trying to find the right words. “Sort of.”

  She frowned. “What does that mean?”

  He patted the spot beside him. “Sit, and let’s take this slow.”

  “Okay.” She did as he asked.

  Her dark hair hung down her back and her eyes were bright. How could he tell her? How could he douse that light from her eyes? He had no choice. Taking a long breath, he said, “Your parents’ names are Brett and Marie Beckett.”

  Her frown deepened and he waited. Her hands framed her face, her eyes heavy with memories. “Yes. My parents.” Suddenly tears filled her eyes. “They’re dead. I remember the awful car accident. I remember. Oh, no! Oh, no!” She wrapped her arms around her waist and rocked to and fro, her hair obscuring her face.

  Caleb’s stomach churned with a sick feeling, but he didn’t interfere as she dealt with her parents’ deaths all over again. He wanted to touch or hold her, but he knew it was best not to. So he just gave her time.

  Slowly she wiped away tears with the back of her hand. “They were too young to have their lives cut tragically short. And they were so much in love.”

  “Did you live with them?” Dr. Oliver wanted him to ask questions, so that’s how he started.

  Her brow wrinkled in thought and she touched her forehead. “No. I had my own apartment. Daddy didn’t like it, but Mama said I was grown up and since I was a…” Her voice halted as another memory surfaced.

  Her eyes grew big. “I was a police officer. Oh, my God! I was a police officer!”

  “Yes,” he acknowledged. “In Corpus, then in Beckett, Texas.”

  Her eyes became even bigger. “It’s my name. Beckett. Beckett.” She repeated the name, testing it, running it through her brain. “My grandfather lives there.” She frowned. “I worked there?”

  “Can you remember?”

  Her frown became fierce. “Why would I work in Beckett? My parents didn’t even live there. Oh, wait.” She held her head in a vice as memories tortured her. “After my parents died, I went there at my grandfather’s invitation. His name is Boone Beckett.”

  “Yes,” Caleb confirmed. “Can you remember anything else?”

  She jumped to her feet. “No, and I don’t want to.”

  He stood facing her. She was barefoot and she barely came to his shoulder. “I know this is painful, but it’s what you wanted—to know the truth about yourself.”

  “Yes.” She looked him in the eye. “Did my grandfather report me missing?”

  This was the hard part. He shook his head. “No. No one has reported you missing.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “All I have are facts, no concrete answers. To find those you have to go back to Beckett.”

  Fear flashed in her eyes and he was quick to tell her, “I’ll go with you.”

  “You will?”

  “Yes. I’ll stay with you until your full memory returns.”

  “Thank you. I’d like that.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure I could do it alone.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “When can we go?” she asked, her voice anxious.

  “How about the morning after the charity ball? That will give you time to get your thoughts together, talk to Dr. Oliver and explain to Gertie.”

  “Yes.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’ll hate to leave her. She’s been so good to me.”

  “She’ll understand. We all want you to regain your memory.”

  “Yes,” she replied in a melancholy voice.

  He restrained himself from touching her wet cheek. “Try not to think about it too much. We have the ball tomorrow night and then we’ll find the answers you need.”

  Her face softened. “I’m sorry you got roped into that.”

  “Aw, shucks, ma’am. I’d never have any fun if I didn’t squire Ms. Gertie around town.”

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Now get some rest.”

  “Caleb.”

  “Yes?”

  She licked her dry lips. “How old am I?”

  “Thirty.”

  “Oh. Yes, that feels right.” She swallowed then asked, “Am I married?”

  He saw the worry in her eyes and didn’t think it would hurt to tell her. “No.”

  She heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  “Talk to you later,” he called on his way out the door, feeling the same way she did.

  THE NEXT MORNING Belle spent an hour with Dr. Oliver and felt good about the visit.

  “I’m so glad it’s finally happening,” Belle said, curled up on the peach sofa.

  “Yes,” Dr. Oliver agreed, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Do you have any questions?”

  She shrugged. “No. Not really. I believe we’ve covered everything about a hundred times.”

  Dr. Oliver smiled. “You’ve been one of those patients who desires to know everything and you’ve researched PTSD thoroughly. Just be patient and let your memory unfold. You may not even be aware of it at times, and at others you may be flooded with events and scenes. Dreams and flashbacks are normal. So are the headaches, but once your recall is complete they will be less frequent, then may disappear completely.”

  Belle uncurled her legs. “Caleb is going with me to Beckett.”

  Dr. Oliver paused in writing notes in a file. “I know.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t object to that,” she said with an impish grin.

  “You’ve been confused many times with my cautionary words about Caleb.” Dr. Oliver looked directly at her. “When your memory is complete, you’ll understand them. They are for your own peace of mind. And that’s what I want for you—for you to be at peace with your past and your present, not torn between the two. Less trauma is what you need now.” She returned to her notes. “You trust Ranger McCain and so do I. I’m relieved that he will be with you.”

  “He’s a wonderful man.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

  Dr. Oliver looked up. “And there’s probably a wonderful man waiting for you.”

  “Mmm.” She chewed on her lip, wondering about the man she’d mentioned in the hospital. He wasn’t her husband. So he had to be a boyfriend. Yet, she couldn’t bring up his face. All she could see was Caleb. She wouldn’t tell Dr. Oliver that. She would handle her feelings in her own way because she knew them for what they were. That was the main thing.

  THAT NIGHT BELLE had a restless sleep, tossing and turning as parts of her life flashed through her mind like a frenetic video. She was a little girl running to meet her father when he came home from work, then she was older and her mother was teaching her to cook and how to set the table. They were on a family trip to Six Flags Over Texas, laughing and having a good time. Then school and showing her parents her report card—all A’s and she was proud. Her parents were even prouder. Friends, Cathy and Gilda, stayed over and tried on makeup and they did each other’s hair. They talked about boys, dating and the prom. Graduation and smiles then co
llege. Texas A&M at Corpus was close so her parents were thrilled with her choice. She had to make a decision about a career and it was easy. She’d go into law enforcement like her father.

  Finally the video stopped and she fell into a deep sleep. She woke up refreshed as some of the fogginess had left her. She had a happy childhood and she’d remembered so many things that her head hurt from the reel running in her mind. Her memory was returning just as Dr. Oliver had said. Now she had to wait and the rest would fall into place. Soon she’d know the face of the person who’d shot her.

  She quickly dressed in shorts and a tank top, making sure her back was covered. She had deep welts there from the beatings she’d received at the hands of the cult. The racist leader said she was evil because her skin and eyes denoted her lineage was from a group not acceptable to their faith. She had to be beaten to drive out the demons and this had gone on for months.

  Now her life was within her grasp. She just had to keep remembering.

  She hit the front door running, taking her usual route through the affluent neighborhood. It was barely six so everything was peaceful and quiet on this April morning. Birds chirped and she could hear an occasional plane or car, but otherwise she was alone. She kept her mind blank as she jogged down the sidewalk in front of the large two-story homes and manicured lawns. The fragrance of blooming flowers wafted to her nostrils and she sucked in the scent, but didn’t pause to admire the view. She needed the exercise more than the scenery or the elusive memories that were surfacing faster than she could take them in.

  An hour later she jogged back through the door breathing heavily and walked through the house to the pool area, where she quickly changed. She dived in and swam until she was completely exhausted, then she crawled out, grabbed a towel and collapsed into a lounge chair. The sky roof was open and the early-morning sun poured in. She felt at ease and at peace for that moment. Prudy hopped onto her lap and Belle knew Ms. Gertie was awake. Strange, but she still thought of herself as Belle. She wondered how long that would last. How long before she made the journey back to who she used to be and accepted it totally?

  “Morning, Belle, darlin’.” Ms. Gertie, in a blue flowing silk robe, took a lounge chair next to hers.

  “Morning, Ms. Gertie.” Belle knew she had to tell Gertie she’d remembered her name.

  “I told Martha we’d have breakfast out here. It’s such a beautiful day.”

  “Yes, it is. I ran this morning and the yards are looking so nice and there’s a scent in the air that’s indescribable.”

  “It’s spring, darlin’, and there’s pheromones in the air. Turns a head to thinking about love.”

  Belle stroked Prudy, smiling. “Ms. Gertie, you’re a natural born matchmaker.”

  “Mmm. Too bad I didn’t do too good with myself. Living alone is not much fun, but without Harry, there’s not much fun, either.”

  Harry, hearing his name barked loudly. Gertie had named her dog after her husband. She said it brought her comfort.

  Gertie reached down and picked up Harry, cuddling him. “So, Belle, my darlin’, don’t let real love slip by.”

  Maybe if Ms. Gertie knew her memory was returning she’d stop her matchmaking with Caleb. “I have to tell you something.”

  Martha laid a tray of bran muffins, fruit, coffee and juice on a small table between them. “Thanks, Martha,” Gertie said, reaching for a cup of coffee. “Now, darlin’, what do you have to tell me?”

  Belle reached for a glass of juice. “I remembered my name.”

  Gertie’s head jerked toward her. “Oh, that’s marvelous.”

  “Yes,” Belle agreed. “And Caleb found out a lot of other information, too.”

  “So what is your name?”

  “Joscelyn Marie Beckett, but everyone calls me Josie.”

  “Beckett?” Gertie’s fine eyebrows crinkled in thought. “Any relation to the Becketts of South Texas?”

  “Boone Beckett is my grandfather.”

  “Oh, my goodness. I think I need something stronger than coffee.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “Darlin’, everybody in Texas knows Boone, the old scoundrel, reprobate, womanizer without a scruple to his name.”

  “Sounds as if you know him very well.”

  “I’ve run into him over the years at political fund-raisers and political events. Never saw eye to eye on much of anything. It’s hard to believe that someone as sweet as you could be his granddaughter. Evidently you don’t have much of your grandfather in you.”

  “My memories of him are vague, but Caleb and I are leaving for Beckett in the morning to find answers.”

  “Oh, darlin’. I don’t like the thought of you leaving me, and I like the thought of you getting hurt even less.”

  “I’ll be fine, Ms. Gertie, but I hate deserting you on such short notice.”

  “Don’t give it another thought. You just get your life back, and if that life doesn’t appeal to you, you always have a home here.”

  “Ms. Gertie, you’re truly an angel.”

  “Oh, darlin’, don’t look too closely or you’ll find the horns.” She rose, Harry comfortable in her arms. “I’ll get dressed and meet you in the study. We have a lot to get done before the ball.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m right behind you.”

  In her room, she called Caroline to let her know what had happened.

  “Oh, Belle, that’s marvelous,” Caroline said. “But I’ll miss you.”

  Caroline had been a true friend when she’d needed one and Belle would never forget that. “I’ll miss you, too, our talks, our lunches. Both you and Grace. Please tell her for me.” Grace was Caroline’s sister and they were very close. They both had made Belle feel not so alone and she was grateful for that.

  “Sure,” Caroline agreed. “I’m glad Caleb is going with you. I won’t worry so much. He’ll take very good care of you.”

  “Yes, he always does that.” Belle bit her lip, realizing not for the first time how kind people had been to her since her ordeal.

  “Mmm.”

  Belle didn’t miss the hint in Caroline’s soft voice—that there was more than friendship between Belle and Caleb.

  “Promise you’ll call and visit Eli and me often.”

  “I will.” Belle would be forever indebted to Eli, who’d rescued his future wife, Caroline, and Belle from the cult.

  “Be happy, Belle, that’s what Eli and I want for you.”

  “Thanks, Caroline, and thanks for being a good friend.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “This isn’t goodbye forever,” Caroline said. “I won’t let it be.”

  “Me, neither.” She’d never forget her friends in Austin.

  “Bye, Belle.”

  Belle. Belle. Belle. But she wasn’t Belle. She was Josie Marie Beckett.

  She hung up the phone, feeling sad. In Austin she had friends, people who cared about her. What awaited her in Beckett, Texas?

  CALEB STARTED HIS DAY by calling Jeremiah Tucker, a friend and fellow ranger, to see if he’d cover for Caleb while he was away. Tuck was affable and hardworking and he readily agreed, wishing Caleb all the best in placing Belle back with her family.

  Then he headed for Waco to tell his parents in person. Andrew Wellman was his stepfather, but he was Caleb’s father in every way that counted. Joe McCain, his biological father, never claimed Caleb or acknowledged his existence. Joe was an angry, controlling, jealous man and he’d put Caleb’s mother, Althea, through hell. The only place he’d let her go alone was to church and there she found the courage to get out of a rotten marriage.

  Jake and Beau, Caleb’s older brothers, were supposed to go with her, but Jake, the oldest, refused to go and stayed with his father. Jake believed all the lies his father had told him about his mother—that the baby she was carrying was the bastard son of Andrew Wellman. Althea grieved for her oldest son, and Caleb grew up with her heartache. But five years ago Althea and Jake had finally found each other again and C
aleb had found his brother. They were now a family.

  Joe McCain had fathered four sons, but he hadn’t been a father to any of them, not even Jake, the one son he acknowledged. The oldest, Eli, was a son by another woman and Joe never claimed him, either. But Eli found his own kind of peace in the arms of Caroline—a woman who loved him just the way he was.

  All the McCain men had scars and Caleb knew his ran deep. Andrew gave him everything he needed, but he could never explain why his father didn’t want him. He had a good life with good parents, but at the oddest times he would think about his biological father and wonder if he’d ever have any good feelings about the man.

  He drove around to the garages of the two-story colonial house he’d grown up in, and entered through the breakfast area. Andrew and his mother were sitting at the table, eating. His petite mother had salt-and-pepper hair and brown eyes like all her sons. Andrew was thin and tall with a thatch of gray hair. They both smiled as he walked in.

  “Caleb.” Althea ran to hug him. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  Andrew gave him a bear hug. “Good to have you home, son. If you have a while, we can get in a round of golf.”

  “Andrew, give him a chance to take a breath,” Althea scolded. “Have a seat and I’ll fix you some breakfast.”

  Andrew winked at him. “She just wants to cook for someone other than me.”

  His mother loved to cook. She always had and her children were the center of her world. And now that she had Jake and his family back, she was happier than Caleb had ever seen her.

  “We’re having waffles and bacon, but I can fix you anything you like.”

  “That’s fine, Mom.” Caleb removed his hat and took a seat.

  Andrew sat beside him. “You look a little down, son. Something wrong?”

  Andrew knew him so well and their bond was close, as close as blood, and Caleb loved the compassionate, kind man. A lot of people who didn’t know Caleb wasn’t Andrew’s biological son said Caleb took after him. Caleb considered that a compliment. Andrew had been the best role model, and everything that he’d learned he’d gotten from him.

  “I’m fine, Dad,” he replied. He’d always called him Dad because he was the only father he’d ever known. It had taken Beau a while, but he called Andrew Dad, too.