Son of Texas

She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn’t even heard the doorbell. Josie Marie. She had a name.

“Wendell has a cage for the canary and before we go to the ball tomorrow night, Wendell will put him in the hat-cage again. The highest bidder will get the cage, the hat and all the food the little thing will need for a year.” Ms. Gertie made a face. “I just hate the thought of a bird pooping on my head. But I’ll do anything for charity—at least once.”

“Whose idea was this?” Belle asked, trying to keep her thoughts on the conversation.

“Mine, of course. No one else is that brilliant.”

“Of course not,” Belle agreed. One of the things she loved about living with Gertie was that she laughed a lot. And she needed that.

Prissy reared up on Gertie’s skirt, her eyes on the bird. Prudy, fearing Prissy might get the prize, joined her.

“Look at this.” Gertie sighed. “You’d think they were never fed. Get down, you spoiled cats.”

Prissy and Prudy crept to a corner, their feelings hurt.

“Oh, my babies. I didn’t mean it.” Gertie tried to soothe the cats. “You’ll get a special treat tonight.”

Harry raced into the room, barking at the hat. Just then the doorbell rang.

Gertie straightened the hat and her suit as if she knew who was at the door. Martha, the housekeeper, showed Caleb into the sunroom. Dressed in dark slacks, a white shirt and cowboy boots with his Texas Ranger badge proudly displayed over his left pocket, he smiled a welcome. Belle’s heart rate kicked up a notch as it always did when she saw him.

He was without his gun and white hat. He usually left those in the car when he was visiting. Tall and lanky, he had soft dark eyes and dark hair. He had to be the most handsome, kindest and caring man she’d ever met. Of course, she remembered nothing of other men she’d known. She suddenly wondered if there were many.

Shaking the thought away, she wondered instead what Caleb was doing here. His office was in a town outside of Austin, but he stopped by sometimes when he was in the city. Maybe this was one of those days. Or maybe he sensed that she needed him. In a way they had an uncanny connection.

“Caleb,” Gertie said. “Have a seat. I’ve been expecting you.”

She sagged at the revelation of Gertie’s words. Gertie had called him.

Caleb just stared at the hat on Gertie’s head. “Ms. Gertie, there’s a bird on your head,” he said in his deep voice that wrapped around Belle like warm sunshine.

“Yes, Caleb, there is. Tomorrow evening this hat and bird will be auctioned off at a charity ball and Belle and I need an escort. Are you free?”

“Yes, ma’am. It would be a pleasure.”

“Good. Be here at six and a limo will pick us up. Now I have to see if I can get this thing off my head. Martha,” she called, walking gingerly from the room, her animals following her.

CALEB LOOKED AT BELLE, her long black hair pulled back, her eyes as dark as the mysteries in her head. An olive complexion stretched over high cheekbones and he thought, as he had since the first day he saw her, that she was the most beautiful, striking woman he’d ever seen.

“Hi,” he said, unable to keep the warmth out of his voice. “How are you?”

“Fine. There’s never a dull moment around here.”

“Is she really auctioning off that hat-bird contraption?”

“You know Ms. Gertie.”

“Oh, yeah.” He watched her face. She seemed excited and he sensed it had nothing to do with Gertie. At times he could almost read her expressions—he knew her that well. The first time he saw her in the hospital she was curled into a fetal position and refused to look at him. His heart broke at what had happened to her and he just wanted to help. The doctor warned him about getting emotionally attached because Belle’s emotions were very fragile, but from the first moment he looked into her dark eyes he was trapped, captivated.

“I was going to call you.” Her words came out in a rush.

“Oh.” That was unusual. He was the one who did all the calling.

“Yes.” Her hands clasped her cheeks. “I remembered something.”

“Oh.” He took a seat on the wicker sofa, moving a green-and-white-flowered throw pillow out of the way. She’d been discovering little things—she loved chocolate and old movies, she knew how to work a computer and she liked the outdoors and exercise. She jogged five miles every morning. Every piece of information was building her personality and telling her who she was. But they didn’t have the full picture yet.

“I remembered my name,” she said in excitement. “I remembered my name!”

“What!” He was at a loss for words. This was big. This could help to place her back with her family.

“Yes. I was sitting in the window seat when the storm blew through. With the thunder and lightning, my head started to throb and I remembered something from when I was two years old. I could feel my mom’s and dad’s presence, their warmth and their love. I was saying my name to my dad.”

“What is it?” His voice was hoarse.

“Joscelyn Marie Beckett. Everyone calls me Josie.”

“Josie Marie Beckett.” He said the name slowly, trying it out, the feel and the taste of it.

“Yes. Yes.” She clapped her hands. “That’s my name. I know it is.”

He’d never seen her eyes so bright or her cheeks so flushed and he knew they were on the verge of finding her true identity, her family. He was happy about that. She’d been in limbo long enough, but a part of him was sad. This would be her first step away from him and he had to let her go. It was time.

He knew this day was coming and he should be prepared, but he wasn’t. Still, he’d do what he had to. As a Texas Ranger he could do no less. He’d taken an oath to protect the people of Texas, and as a son of Texas he’d never break that oath.

“I’ll run a background check right away. I should have more information on Joscelyn Beckett soon.” He got to his feet.

“You’ll call as soon as you find out something.” A shadow crossed her face.

“Yes.” He paused at her expression. “What is it?”

She closed her eyes for a second. “I feel as if I’ve been in this deep, dark hole and I’ve suddenly glimpsed a sliver of light. But I’m afraid of the brightness and what it will reveal. Will it burn me? Will it scar me further? Maybe it’s safer to bury myself in the hole where I can’t be hurt again. After all, someone tried to kill me.”

Walking to her, he looked into her troubled eyes. He was there when they brought her in with scars on her back from being beaten repeatedly. And he was there when the tests revealed a bullet in her head. After some investigation they determined that the people in the cult hadn’t shot her. Someone else had. He was with her through all those long weeks in the hospital when he didn’t think she’d ever make it back from the abuse she’d suffered. He was there to prepare her to testify against the cult members, but when the cult leader died, the others took a plea bargain. He was relieved that she wouldn’t have to go through a trial, but she’d been ready to do whatever was necessary to keep them behind bars. Belle Doe wasn’t a quitter. She was a fighter, a survivor—that’s why she was still alive.

“You survived because you have more strength than anyone I’ve ever met. Whatever we find out about your life, you’ll be able to handle. There’s no doubt in my mind. The fear is just a part of it. You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t afraid of the unknown. We all are.”

Her eyes glistened. “I don’t think you’re afraid of anything.”

Losing you. He’d been afraid of that for a long time now, and it was happening. He’d handle it just as she would—with courage.

“Ah, Belle. Don’t put me on a pedestal.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Give Dr. Oliver a call. She’ll be able to reassure you,” he finally said.

She nodded, her eyes catching his. “I’ll never be able to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”