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Whirlwind
By Cindy Holby
Dorchester Publishing
Copyright © 2006
Cindy HolbyAll right reserved.
ISBN: 0-8439-5308-X
Chapter One
Laramie Wyoming, 1867
Zane Brody, who often considered himself to be one of the best
at what he had just completed, rolled onto his back and
stretched his cramped muscles. With a sigh of contentment he
pulled the worn sheets of a well-used bed in what was once a
quality whorehouse in Laramie up to his waist and leaned his
back against the rails of the brass headboard.
"Lordy Missy, I thought we were going to bust straight through
the wall," he said as he looked at the stain on the ceiling.
It looked as if the roof must have leaked after the last rain.
If Maybelle didn't start turning loose of some of her money,
the place was going to fall down around her bejeweled ears.
Missy giggled as she usually did. Funny how her giggle wasn't
near as cute as it used to be. A few years back he considered
it one of her more endearing traits. Of course Missy wasn't
near as cute as she used to be. Especially in the full light
of day. That was a good excuse as any for cutting out his
afternoon visits.
Maybelle's had at one time been a high-tone establishment. But
that was before, when it had been the only whorehouse within a
day's ride of Laramie. Now it had all kinds of competition
from the city of tents that had sprung up like weeds on the
outskirts of town.
The railroad wasbeing built and business's had come to
Laramie to give support to the workers that had moved west
with the rails of progress.
Zane stretched again as he moved to the edge of the bed and
searched for his pants.
"Where you going sweetie?" Missy asked as she pressed against
his back, moving her ample breasts against his bare skin.
"Time's up," he said as he jerked his pants on.
"That's never stopped you before," Missy pouted.
Zane looked over his shoulder and gave her one of his roguish
smiles, flashing the deep dimples in his cheek.
"Shannon made me promise that I'd be there for supper," he
said as an excuse. "And I haven't seen Caleb and Amanda since
they got back from Texas.
"You can see them any old time." Missy flounced back on the
bed and picked at the frayed embroidery on her pillow case.
"Love looks not with the eyes, but the mind and is therefore
winged cupid painted blind." Quoting Shakespeare usually got
him around Missy when he needed to. "You know I love you
sweetheart." Zane also knew how to turn on the charm when it
was necessary. "But I want to hear about the trial."
Zane's friends, Jenny and Amanda, had fallen prey in the past
to a man who kidnapped young women and kept them prisoners in
the whorehouses that his sisters ran. Jenny had miraculously
escaped before they forced her into prostitution. Amanda
hadn't been so lucky and suffered greatly for it. Her uncle
Cole, along with Jenny's husband Chase, had rescued her and
killed her kidnapper, Wade Bishop. Amanda had then faced a
long recovery that was aided by her newfound love for Zane's
friend, Caleb. After their marriage, Amanda and Caleb had
gone into the newspaper business. Amanda had sent her story
to a newspaper in Austin and that, along with her Uncle Cole's
Texas Ranger connections led to the sister's arrest and end of
their businesses. Amanda and Jenny had both gone down to Texas
to testify at the trial and had come back victorious.
"Did that woman go to jail?" Missy asked.
"For the rest of her life." Zane pulled on his boots. "Her
sister too."
"Good riddance," Missy said. "Girls should do this because
they want too, not because they're made to."
Zane's jaw dropped in shock as he carefully looked at Missy's
sweet face. Where in the world had that come from? Missy,
who usually didn't have a thought in her head, was suddenly
making a serious statement.
Zane twisted around on the bed, his hazel eyes looking
intently into the vapid blue of Missy's.
"Do you like doing this?"
"Doing what?" Missy asked innocently.
"This!" Zane patted the bed.
"Of course I do silly," she said as she placed her arms around
his neck and pulled him close.
Zane locked his arms against the mattress to keep her from
pulling his body over hers.
"How did you get started in this business?" Why after all
these years did he suddenly care?
"I was hungry," Missy said as if it were the most logical
thing she could have done at the time.
Zane pushed up to a sitting position.
"How old were you when you started?"
"Fifteen," Missy replied, pulling on one of her blonde curls.
"Why are you asking me all these questions?"
Zane took a moment to consider it. Why did he care? He'd
come to visit Missy at least once a week for the past five
years and never gave her a thought beyond the pleasure she
always gave him and the fact that she liked to laugh a lot.
She was just a whore, like all the others he had been with
since he had discovered that money could buy sex and pleasure
at a very young age. Why was he suddenly so interested in
Missy's life?
"How old are you?"
"What difference does that make?" Her sweet voice was suddenly
hostile and suspicious.
Zane threw his arms up in mock surrender as he backed away
from the bed.
"Don't get all mad at me, honey. I was just wondering."
"Don't I make you happy?" Missy asked as she pulled the sheet
up over her breasts.
"You're the best lay in town," Zane said with his broad grin.
The screech that came from Missy's talented lips filled the
rafters of the house. She jumped to her feet, seeking balance
on the broken-down mattress.
Zane ducked as a pillow came at his head.
"You two-timing, cheating, whoring, son of a bitch!" she
screamed. "How many women does it take to keep you happy?"
Zane looked at the usual sweet docile Missy in amazement. He
was sure she could be heard on the street and the heavy
pounding on the stairs let him know that Maybelle was on her
way up.
"Simmer down sweetheart," he said as he grabbed his shirt and
hat.
"You've been visiting the other houses haven't you?" Missy
stood on the bed, naked as the day she was born with a lamp in
her hand.
"No!" Zane exclaimed. "I promise, you're the only one." He
settled his hat on his head and quickly jerked on his
suspenders. "Except for that one night that is ..."
The lamp crashed against the wall, nicking his fingertips as
it went by. Zane shook his hand to clear the pain.
"How dare you two-time me!" she screamed and hastily searched
for another weapon.
Zane spared time for a prayer of thanksgiving that his gun was
downstairs safely behind the bar as the rules of the house
required. There was no doubt in his mind that she would shoot
him if given a chance.
"It was Dan's going away party," Zane tried to explain. "And
Randy's bachelor party."
"Zane Brody, you're lower than a snake's belly in a wagon
rut!"
The door flew open as the generous curves of Maybelle crashed
into the room, followed by Bill, her bouncer.
"Howdy Zane," Bill said with his easy-going smile.
"Howdy Bill," Zane ducked behind Maybelle's wide girth as
Missy stomped the mattress. "Did we wake you?"
"It was time to eat anyway," Bill assured him. "What's got
her in such a tizzy?"
"He's been two timing me!" Missy answered for Zane, loud
enough for everyone within the vicinity to hear.
"You better leave now," Maybelle said. "She's been on a tear
ever since your friend started with those articles in her
newspaper." Maybelle hadn't been happy about Amanda's
editorials against prostitution. It made her business look
bad.
Zane didn't understand it much either. As far as he was
concerned Maybelle was providing a much needed service to the
community, and as long as the girls were willing, then no one
should have a problem with it.
Missy was still venting her anger when Bill handed him his gun
from behind the bar. Zane grinned sheepishly at the confused
faces in the lounge and went out into the dusk that had crept
over the streets of Laramie.
"I guess you survived," a voice said from behind him.
"Did you think you were going to have to come in and rescue
me, Sheriff?" Zane asked playfully as his friend and former
ranch hand Jake Anderson stepped up beside him.
"Nope. I was planning on watching her tear you apart."
"I thought you were supposed to keep the peace," Zane asked as
they walked down the street.
"She wasn't bothering me none," Jake replied dryly.
"Glad to know you got my back, buddy," Zane laughed.
"The last place I ever want to be is between you and a woman.
Especially when that woman wants to skin you alive." Jake
said. "And speaking of scary women, you're staying for supper
aren't you?"
"Are those orders from Shannon?"
"She said not to come home without you."
"Even I know better than to disobey an order from your wife,"
Zane laughed.
The dusty streets of Laramie had settled into their usual
Saturday night ritual. The saloons were just starting to come
to life as the cowboys and railroad workers washed off a
week's worth of dirt, filled their bellies with food and went
to spend their coin on some well-deserved fun after all the
hard labor of their jobs.
Zane and Jake walked down the street towards the small cottage
on the edge of town that was now the sheriff's home, Jake
confident that he would be allowed a few hours peace to enjoy
a meal with his friends before the drunks got too rowdy and
had to be thrown into a cell to sleep it off.
The light of the lamp cast a comforting glow in the soft dusk
of early summer as the two men stepped through the gate that
protected a well tended garden. They walked through the front
door into a cozy setting of two women and a man laughing at
the antics of a small boy, barely old enough to walk.
"Da!" the boy exclaimed and went toddling to the outstretched
arms of his father.
Jake scooped the boy up in his arms and deposited a kiss on
his snowy white hair.
"Howdy Will," Zane said and waggled his fingers at the boy,
who squinted his bright green eyes at his honorary uncle.
"Thane," Will said loudly, to the amusement of all in the
room.
Zane tossed his hat on a peg and went to the table where
Jake's wife Shannon was stirring a chunk of butter into a
steaming bowl of mashed potatoes.
"Ah!" Shannon cautioned as Zane tried to dip his finger in for
a taste. "Wash your hands first!"
"Yes, ma'am," Jake said to the tall redhead who had saved
Jake's life and spirit when she found him wounded and dying
with no memory in the wilds of West Virginia and nursed him
back to health. Jake had brought her to Wyoming as his bride
and a life of ranching. Fate, in the form of Amanda Conners
and her editorials, had stepped in, however, and now he was
serving a term as sheriff of Laramie after the old one had
been run off when his corrupt ways had caught up with him.
Amanda held out her hands for Will. Caleb was trying to
render a drawing of the boy who wouldn't sit still long enough
for Caleb to get a good look at him.
"It seems like he grew a foot while we were gone," Amanda said
as she dipped with him on her hip, bringing forth peals of
laughter.
"He took his first steps while you were gone," Shannon said.
"I'm sorry that you missed it."
"Me too," Amanda said.
Zane noticed that her gray eyes looked wistful as she gazed
over the downy head at Caleb. Years of abuse from her forced
prostitution had taken their toll on Amanda's body. There
would be no children for her and Caleb. It was kind of sad
when he thought about it. Caleb would have been a wonderful
father.
"Supper's ready," Shannon announced. Jake took his place at
the head of the table. Shannon sat to his right with Will in
between in his high chair. Amanda waited for Caleb to slowly
make his way over with his wooden leg, and they sat on the
left. Zane took a seat on the opposite end of Jake and
couldn't help but smile as they all bowed their heads and Jake
gave the blessing.
Who would have thought it ten years ago? Jake Anderson, one
of the most terrifying cowboys he ever met, saying grace as
the sheriff of a small town with a wife and a son at his side.
And Caleb, now married and running a newspaper with a growing
circulation because of it's predilection for honesty instead
of politics.
When they had all been cowboying together on the Lynch ranch
before the war, before death and disaster had marred their
lives, Zane had thought that they would be young and wild
forever. He had never given a thought beyond the next
Saturday, the next payday, the next visit to the whorehouse
and the next joke he could play on his friends for a laugh.
Zane would never forget the first time he realized life was
not all fun and games. It was after Jenny had been kidnapped
and they had fought to get her back. Chase had carved his own
personal vendetta on the man responsible for her brutal rape
and the murder many years before of her parents.
He had puked his guts out in the yard after seeing all the
death, but he was glad for it after he had seen what the man
had done to Jenny.
Things had gotten better. Chase and Jenny were married, which
led to a whole new series of jokes and tricks on the
newlyweds.
Then, out of the blue, Jenny's twin Jamie had been murdered on
his wedding day. Then the war came and Jake and Caleb had
gone off to war with Ty, another cowboy on the ranch who had
married the owner's daughter, Cat.
Disaster followed disaster. Someone had tried to steal the
land; range wars started; Jason, the owner of the ranch, and
surrogate father to all who worked for him had been murdered.
Yet life went on. The ranch was growing under the ownership
of Cat and Jenny, who was Jason's granddaughter.
And all of Zane's friends were now married and having
children. And the new cowboys that came and went with the
seasons were all getting younger or were much older and worn
out from life. They were all just passing through, looking
for something better or easier.
"So how'd the roundup go? Caleb asked.
"Pretty good," Zane replied. "Most of the new hands are
either green or lazy but there's a few willing to put in a
hard day's work."
"Sorry I missed it," Caleb said, grinning.
"You're sorry all right," Zane retorted. Caleb had quit
cowboying after losing his leg in the war. He was better than
most on horseback but couldn't move as well on the ground,
even with his new wooden leg.
"He didn't miss it at all," Amanda confided. "As a matter of
fact, he enjoyed the fact that you were sleeping on the ground
while we were staying in that fancy hotel."
"You weren't complaining much either," Caleb said playfully to
his wife, who had the decency to blush.
There it was. The look. The feeling. The knowledge that
passed between man and wife. I am yours. You are mine.
He had seen it for years. First with Chase and Jenny, Ty and
Cat, Cole and Grace, Jake and Shannon and then Caleb and
Amanda.
What was it? What was so special that made it different from
the whoring and the playfulness that he shared with Missy or
any other gal that could be had for a few greenbacks?
Was he actually wishing that he had a wife?
Zane choked on a piece of chicken, and Caleb pounded on his
back as he gasped for air.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Whirlwind
by Cindy Holby
Copyright © 2006 by Cindy Holby.
Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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