When Passion Calls

"What can Terrance do to help?" Melanie asked, folding her hands together behind her. "Shane, what can I do?"

"Nothing," Shane said, brushing past Melanie into the stable. "I'm going into St. Paul. I've someone to see."

Melanie's lips parted with surprise. She started to follow him, then shuddered when she stepped into a pool of blood that was not yet covered with hay. Gasping, she lifted her skirt past her ankles and stepped over the blood, then raced into the stable. Shane was determinedly placing his saddle onto his horse.

"Shane," she said, "who are you going into St. Paul to see? Of course, it must be Josh, for there is no one else in St. Paul that you know." She placed a hand on his arm, causing him to turn and look down at her. "Do you think he's the one responsible for this, Shane? Do you?"

"Do you?" Shane said in a deep grumble. He looked past her at Terrance, who was standing among a group of the cowhands, speaking low, occasionally glancing Shane's way.

Melanie's eyes followed Shane's steady gaze. She recoiled inside, knowing that Shane must also suspect Terrance. Yet he had not openly accused him. Was it because Terrance was her brother and Shane wanted to save her embarrassment and torment should Terrance prove to be the guilty party? If it was Terrance, dare Shane wait for any reason?

She turned her eyes slowly back to Shane. "You asked if I thought Josh is responsible," she murmured. She lowered her eyes. "I cannot say."

Shane grabbed the horse's reins and led it on past Melanie. "Nor can I," he growled. "But I damn well intend to find out!"

Melanie ran after him. "Let me go with you, Shane," she said, reaching up for him. "I can unsaddle my horse from the buggy quickly. I won't delay you. I want to go with you."

Shane placed a foot into a stirrup and swung himself up into his saddle. "No," he said flatly. "I think I know where I might find my brother and it is not a place for a lady. This time I go into St. Paul alone."

Melanie circled her hands into tight fists at her sides. "Oh, Shane . . ." she whispered, watching him wheel his horse around and ride away.

Terrance sidled up close to Melanie and whispered into her ear, "Sis, you're making one damn fool of yourself over that man," he said. "Look

around you. Don't you see yourself being gawked at?''

Melanie felt a heated blush rise to her cheeks. She glanced around and saw that the cowhands really were staring at her. She stamped a foot and went to her buggy. "Terrance, since you agreed so heartily to help here at Shane's, get to it!" she hissed, snapping the reins against her mare.

After taking a wide turn on the drive, she traveled briskly away, leaving Terrance standing with his fists on his hips, glaring angrily after her.

Sitting tall in the saddle, Shane rode into town. He looked from saloon to saloon. He knew the terms of his father's will and understood them all, even why Josh had been left less of their father's inheritance than Shane. It was a well-known fact that Josh loved his whiskey and poker too much. Even at this mid-morning hour, Shane expected that he could find his brother in a saloon, losing himself in his two favorite pastimes.

Securing the horse's reins to a hitching rail, Shane walked determinedly toward the saloon. He stepped up onto the wooden sidewalk, then flung the saloon's swinging doors aside and stepped into the room.

The stench of whiskey lay heavy in the air, intermingling with gray swirls of smoke, almost choking in its intensity. The room was noisy with laughter, cursing, the tinkling of a piano, and the clink-clink of coins.

Women in gawdy short skirts and plunging

necklines mingled with the men, giggling, kissing, fondling.

At the bar, Shane purchased a cigar. Then, leaning his back against the bar, he bit off the end of the cigar, spat the tip onto the floor, and thrust the cigar between his lips. The light of a burning match suddenly appeared and was placed to his cigar by a hand with long, lean fingers, their nails brightly polished. Shane looked up into seductive, dark eyes, feathered by thick, even darker lashes.

He accepted the light and puffed on his cigar, slowly looking the woman over as she dropped the burned-out match to the floor. She was nothing less than beautiful, yet not the sort that Shane was attracted to. Her dress was brightly-colored and scant, revealing all but the nipples of her breasts. There was a wickedness in the way she smiled up at him as she leaned into him, brushing her breasts against his chest.

"Somethin' else I can do for you, hon, besides light your cigar?" she asked in a seductive purr. She nodded toward the staircase. "I've got a room upstairs. Go with me and I could make you feel real good." She nodded toward a bottle of whiskey on the bar. "If you're the shy sort, we could sit down and begin with sharin' a drink or two.'' She bumped up against him again. "What do you say? A handsome fella like you'd be good to be around for awhile."

Shane placed his hands to her waist and moved her aside. He smiled slowly down at her when he saw rage fill her eyes. "Thank you for the compli-

ment," he said, taking his cigar from his mouth, flicking ashes from it. "But I don't think I've got the time today for the sort of fun you're offering me."

Sauntering away from her, Shane thrust the cigar between his lips again. He peered intently through the smoke as he walked slowly from table to table, looking for Josh.

Seeing no sign of him in this saloon, Shane went to another and another. Then he finally found his brother in a saloon that sat squeezed in between two brothels.

Shane stood across the room from where Josh sat at a table, gambling and drinking, and looked at him disbelievingly. His brother's face was stubbled with golden whiskers. He wore a white, ruffled shirt and dark breeches, both of which were wrinkled and soiled with whiskey and food spills down the front. Standing behind him, a skimpily attired whore clung around his neck possessively.

Something akin to regret for his brother, for what Josh had let himself become, washed over Shane. It seemed that he had no pride. Yet, Shane felt as though he was to blame for his brother's misfortune. Josh had left his farm because of Shane! Why couldn't brothers live together? Work together? Did it have to come down to this?

Then Shane recalled what had brought him there. He had come to question Josh, to see if his brother was responsible for the recent mishaps at the Brennan farm. Did Josh gamble by day and wreak havoc by night?