Linda Warren - Son of Texas

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 Caleb 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.

Althea placed coffee, maple syrup and a plate of waffles and bacon in front of him. He dived in, realizing he was hungry. His parents watched him as they would a two-year-old—with love and affection.

Caleb laid his fork down. “I just came by to tell you that I’ll be gone for a few days.”

Andrew took a sip of coffee. “Oh. An important case?”

“Belle has remembered her name and I’m taking her back to her family.”