Son of Texas. Linda Warren

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      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.

      “When was the last time you saw Josie, Mrs. Peabody?” Caleb’s soothing voice brought her back to the conversation. For a long time now, she thought of his voice like a glass of warm milk. When she was small and she’d have nightmares, her mother would give her a glass of warm milk and it would calm her and make her feel safe. That’s what his voice did—made her feel safe and secure. As a child, she needed the warm milk. As an adult, she needed Caleb. But soon that dependency would fade. She had to stop leaning on him and accept her life. Accept Eric.

      “I saw her that morning before she left for work. She was happy, energetic and excited about finding a girl who was missing. She went to work and I never saw her again.” She reached out and touched Josie’s face. “Oh, child, I thought I’d lost you like I’d lost your mother.”

      Even though Marie had never returned to Beckett, Lencha visited often and СКАЧАТЬ