Son of Texas. Linda Warren
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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