Son of Texas

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?

CHAPTER FOUR

WORDS FELT LIKE A WAD of cotton in Belle’s throat and she couldn’t force them out. Her eyes clung to Caleb’s and she memorized every line of his honed, lean face, the sensual curve of his mouth, the dark hair, neatly trimmed, and those incredible warm eyes.

Before she could speak, Lencha stroked her face, her hair. “Child, where have you been? Why did you leave like that?”

Belle stared into Lencha’s gray eyes and saw the worry and concern. She would talk to Caleb later. Now she had to tell Lencha what had happened to her.

“Lencha, this is Caleb McCain, a Texas Ranger.”

Lencha turned to Caleb, Chula on her shoulder. She studied him openly. “Texas Ranger, hmm? Had a cousin who was a ranger back in the old days when a ranger was all the law we had out here. Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, too, ma’am.” He glanced at Chula. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen a pet squirrel before.”

Lencha scratched Chula. “Found her as a baby in the backyard. Must have fallen out of a nest. I fed her with an eyedropper and she’s been a pet ever since. She’s like a cat, but I can’t leave her alone in the house or she’ll tear up everything.” Her eyes narrowed. “So what are you doing with my Josie?”

Josie took Lencha’s arm and led her to the kitchen table. “It’s a long story….”

Josie told her everything about her ordeal—waking up on Austin’s skid row, the bullet in her head, the cult, the memory loss, the struggle back to reality and the kind people who helped her.

“Santa Maria madre de Dios!” Lencha made the sign of the cross. “Child, are you okay?”

“Partly. I still don’t remember how I ended up in Austin or what made me leave Beckett.”

Lencha jumped up. “Ojo.”

“No, Lencha…” But Lencha was already out the door.

“Ojo?” Caleb asked with a lifted brow.

She sighed. “It’s the eye. The evil eye. It’s Mexican—if a person looks at your child and thinks things, good or bad, about them, it can cause high fever, crying or fussiness or something like that. I’m not up on this stuff, but when I was small I had a real high fever and the doctors couldn’t keep it down. Mama was worried and called Lencha and she came to Corpus. My mom and dad scoffed at a lot of Lencha’s rituals, but were willing to try anything. After Lencha did her thing, my fever was under control within thirty minutes.”

Lencha hurried back in, her gray hair everywhere, making her look like a witch. In her hands she carried a brown egg, a sprig of rosemary and a bottle of brackish greenish liquid. She filled a glass with water and brought everything to the table. Saying a prayer in Spanish, she rubbed the liquid all over Josie, even her clothes.

“Lencha!” Josie protested, twitching her nose at the strong scent.

“What is that?” Caleb asked, and Josie met his eyes, not sure how to explain Lencha and her healing methods. But she knew she didn’t have to. Caleb was very open-minded, understanding… The pungent smell of the herbs filled her nostrils and stopped her thoughts.

“Basil, rosemary and rue. A limpia, a cleanser to expunge evil forces,” Lencha replied, taking some liquid in her mouth and spitting it over Josie.

“Lencha,” Josie protested again, but Lencha paid no attention to her. She held Josie’s head with both hands and said another prayer.

Then she took the egg and rosemary in one hand and rubbed it over Josie’s head and body.

“Lencha, this is for babies,” Josie protested, “and I’m beginning to stink.”

“Shh.” In Spanish she said another prayer and broke the egg into the water. “See, the albumen is milky and murky. The evil has been extracted. She made the sign of the cross. “Now, we’ve broken the spell.”

“Lencha…”

Lencha wagged a finger in her face. “Don’t scoff at the old ways. They work. This might be a little different, but it will work, too. Someone looked upon you with envy or malice.” Lencha touched her face. “How could they not? You’re so beautiful, just like my sweet Marie.” She took a seat and held Josie’s hands. Lencha was known for her healing remedies and Josie suspected that most of the time she made a lot of them up. Belief was a powerful thing, though. Lencha had told her that many times.

Josie glanced at Caleb. He didn’t seem surprised or shocked at Lencha’s methods. Just interested. After a minute, he spoke. “Maybe you can help us in other ways, too. When was the last time you saw Bell…I mean Josie?”

Lencha nodded. “Remember it well. I do midwifing when I’m needed. Lot of Mexicans here are illegal. The Garcia’s daughter went into labor and they called me. They’re illegal and didn’t want to go to a hospital, afraid of being sent back to Mexico. I was there all night. She gave birth about five and I got home around seven. Josie’s car wasn’t in the garage and I thought she was at work, but her room light was on and the door was open so I went in. A suitcase was on the bed with some clothes thrown into it and her gun and badge were on the nightstand. I thought that was peculiar so I called Eric and he said Josie left work yesterday to go visit with her grandfather and…”

“Who’s Eric?” The name created a mass of confusion inside Josie and she had to know. Or it could be the herbs were clearing her sinuses.

Lencha looked perplexed, then patted Josie’s hands. “Child, he’s your fiancé. Tall, blond, good-looking guy. Eric Hanson’s a lieutenant on the police force here. You two hit it off the moment you set eyes on each other.”

A fiancé? She was engaged to be married? To Eric…Hanson. She closed her eyes and tried to see his face, but all she could see was Caleb’s. The only man who’d occupied her mind totally. She gritted her teeth and forced Caleb away, but nothing was there. Why couldn’t she remember this man she’d loved and was planning to spend the rest of her life with? Panic took root and she slowly calmed herself.