or to give him hope that one day there could be a future for them. Until she regained her memory, she had no future.
But now she had a name. In a few hours Caleb might be able to tell her where she was from, if she had a family, a husband. The thought ran through her with anticipation and dread. Once she found that out, Caleb would become a part of her past and she wasn’t ready to let go—not of Caleb.
She was smart enough to realize that everything Dr. Oliver had cautioned her about was true. Her attachment to Caleb was hindering her memory recall. She had to let go and allow herself to remember. She wasn’t in love with Caleb, she only thought she was. How many times would she have to say that to herself before she believed it?
“Belle, grab Harry. He’s getting tired.” Ms. Gertie’s voice penetrated her thoughts and she jumped up, Prissy growling at the interruption of her sleep. Belle grabbed a towel and gathered Harry into her arms, drying him thoroughly.
When she put him down, she knew exactly what he was going to do. He shook his whole body, splattering her with remnants of water.
“Harry,” she scolded, but laughed at his anguished expression. She picked him up and rubbed him again until he was panting with delight.
“I better get out. I have a dozen phone calls to make.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Belle asked again.
“Yes. Make sure Martha has that canary locked in the dining room. I don’t want the girls having a feast of him tonight.”
“The girls never leave your bed.” Gertie called the cats her girls and she treated them as such, too.
“Oh, but temptation is sometimes too great.” Gertie stepped out and wrapped a towel around herself. “Think about that, Belle. Sometimes it’s good to give in to temptation.”
“Ms. Gertie.” She was shocked.
“I’m not talking about the girls. I’m talking about Caleb.”
“Ms. Gertie!” She was even more shocked.
“I’m going to change, then I’ll be in my study.” She walked off, not saying another word, the animals marching behind her.
Belle went to check on the canary, trying to ignore the message behind Gertie’s words. She knew how Belle felt about Caleb. Everybody probably did, but Caleb. And she never wanted him to know. It would only complicate things.
CALEB SPENT THE AFTERNOON searching for every piece of information he could on Joscelyn Marie Beckett. Before long, he knew a lot about her. She was born in Corpus Christi, Texas to Brett and Marie Beckett. She attended school in Corpus and went on to Texas A&M at Corpus and eventually became a police officer. A police officer! That threw him and angered him. How could a police officer disappear without anyone knowing? But it would explain her strength and courage.
He forced himself to continue. Later, she was on the police force in Beckett, Texas. Caleb had heard of the town, but looked it up on the map to get the exact location. South Texas—between Corpus Christi and Laredo.
None of this was making sense. She was a police officer and no one had reported her missing. And no one had answered the ads asking for information about her that were plastered in all the big newspapers. Why?
A little more checking and he discovered she’d never been married. That was a relief for now, but Belle had a whole life out there that didn’t include him. He shoved the thought aside. Her parents were dead, killed in an auto accident and she had a grandfather who lived in Beckett. Even Caleb had heard of Boone Beckett and the Silver Spur Ranch. Cattle and oil wells made Boone a formidable figure in Texas, especially when it came to politics. His backing could almost guarantee a win.
So why hadn’t a man like Beckett searched for his granddaughter? There were so many unanswered questions and he knew the only way to find the answers was to go to Beckett, Texas.
First, he had to talk to Belle. It wasn’t going to be easy to explain that her parents were dead. Or that her grandfather hadn’t cared enough to report her missing.
He grabbed his hat, knowing he had to be honest with her, but he wasn’t looking forward to the conversation.
CHAPTER TWO
BEFORE CALEB DID ANYTHING, he called Dr. Oliver and she asked him to come to her office. He was glad to do so. He didn’t want to do anything to impede the return of Belle’s memory.
“Howdy, ma’am.” Caleb placed copies of the information he learned about Belle on Dr. Oliver’s mahogany desk. Removing his hat, he took a seat across from her. The room was done in soothing pastels, and calming water sounds played softly in the background.
“Ranger McCain, I’m glad you took the time to come by and bring the information,” Dr. Oliver replied. Somewhere in her fifties, Dr. Oliver’s hair was short and completely gray and she spoke as softly as the sounds wafting from the intercom.
“We’ve been waiting for this and I wanted you to have all the details.”
“Thank you. Remembering her name is very good, but it is only the start.”
“So how much information should I give her?”
Dr. Oliver flipped through the papers. “Tell her the basics. Ask questions and let her fill in the blanks. No pressure. If she asks a question, answer as little as you can. Let her strive for the complete picture.”
“Okay.”
Dr. Oliver continued to read through the papers. “A police officer? Never would have guessed that, but she’s very independent and strong, so that fits.” She looked up, her eyes thoughtful. “And no one reported her missing. That’s a puzzle. When you feed her this information, do it slowly.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do you think it’s wise to tell her any of this?”
Dr. Oliver looked at him over the rim of her glasses. “Ranger McCain, we’re not keeping secrets from her, but with a little coaxing I’m hoping she’ll remember it on her own.”
“I see.” He leaned forward. “Do you think going back to Beckett would be good for her?”
Dr. Oliver folded her hands. “In my opinion, it would be very good for Belle to be around familiar sights and sounds. That might be the stimulus she needs for a full recovery. There is no such thing as a quick fix when it comes to healing from trauma, but Belle has made remarkable strides. She’s established a healthy lifestyle and she functions very well. She’s strong enough to cope with integrating the present and memories of the traumas with her other memories, as they reveal themselves.”
Caleb ran his thumb along the rim of his white Stetson. “I hear a ‘but’ in your voice.”
“I’m going to be straightforward.”
“Please do.”
“We’ve talked about this before.”
He knew what was coming—Belle’s attachment to him.
“Belle’s emotional state is very fragile. She trusts
