dead mother’s ashes to this Texas soil, so that her parents were reunited in death as they never had been in life.
The evening sky was vivid slashes of red and gold against a backdrop of stark mountain peaks. A wild, desolate wind came keening across the hills, flaying the ends of Jade’s hair across her cheeks.
All day the summer air had been hotter than a funeral pyre. Now, with night approaching, it was cold enough to sting the skin and chill the bones.
To the occasional passing wrangler of the Jewel ranch, Jade presented a fascinating picture. A tiny, delicate creature, she had dark almond eyes and hair the color of a raven, falling thick and straight to below her waist. In a land of gingham and buckskin, she preferred the garb of her mother’s ancestors, a slim sheath of brilliant silk that fell to her ankles, with slits on either side for ease of walking. This day it was shimmering green, her favorite color, with a high mandarin collar and frog fasteners.
After a childhood spent in the luxury of San Francisco, this rough Texas landscape was alien to the young woman. But, she reminded herself, it was not nearly as difficult for her as it must have been for her mother, who had left the comfort of home and family in China to make a new life across the sea.
“What sustained you, Mother?” she whispered as she dropped to the earth on her knees. “Was it the ancient customs?” She moved her hand to the adjoining stones. “Or the love of one special man?”
She didn’t need to ask what had sustained Onyx Jewel, the man who had stolen her mother’s heart. Onyx was the most fearless man she had ever known. He had lived life to the fullest, until the day a coward’s bullet had put an end to him.
From her carriage Jade retrieved an enameled plate, decorated with exotic symbols. Holding a match to a small stick, she dropped it on the plate and watched as smoke curled, followed by a sweet, thick fragrance. As the incense burned, she again knelt by the graves and closed her eyes, trying to calm her troubled spirit.
“I think it would please you if I would remain here in your home, Father. But how can I put down roots in Texas and still follow the ancient ways?” She remained on her knees for long, silent moments. “I seek your wisdom, Father.”
In her mind’s eye she visualized her childhood home in San Francisco, the luxurious apartment atop the city’s most opulent pleasure palace. They had entertained kings and politicians, millionaires and actors. The rich and famous from all over the world had come there, to see and be seen. In that cosmopolitan setting, the daughter of Ahn Lin and Onyx Jewel had become skilled in the ways of the world. She had acquired a vast knowledge of languages and customs and intellectual pursuits. But she had no idea how to put such talents to use.
And then it came to her. The perfect solution to her dilemma.
As the vision faded, her lids fluttered, then opened. Her features relaxed into a smile of pleasure. “Of course. It is all so simple. It is exactly what the town of Hanging Tree needs. Thank you, my esteemed father, for sending me the vision. I shall begin work at once on the arts in which I have been trained. I shall reproduce here in Hanging Tree the pleasure palace of my youth.”
Jade guided the team through the wide dirt road that was the main street of Hanging Tree. The elegant white-and-gilt carriage moved smartly past the blacksmith’s shop, the stables, Durfee’s Mercantile and Doc Prentice’s infirmary. She sailed past the jail and marshal’s office, past Potter’s Boardinghouse, until the rig rolled to a stop at the very end of town, on a high, grassy knoll.
The air rang with the sound of saws biting into wood and nails being hammered. A collective shout went up as another wall was raised into place. Workers swarmed like bees securing the structure.
Jade stepped down from the carriage and stood watching as her future took shape before her eyes. Already she could envision the facade, with bright red winged arches, and a golden dragon standing guard on either side of huge, hand-carved double doors.
Once inside, a visitor would be transported to another world. Rugs, furniture, tapestries from the far-flung corners of the globe. Soft, muted music. Food unlike any ever tasted in Texas. And the air heavy with incense.
“There she is, Reverend.” A woman’s voice was raised in anger. “As brazen a hussy as you’ll ever see.”
Jade turned to see a crowd of townspeople trooping toward her, led by town gossip Lavinia Thurlong and her friend Gladys Witherspoon, with the preacher in their midst.
“Why would you bring such trash to our town?” Lavinia demanded, pointing toward the growing structure.
“Yes. Why?” The words, spoken by six or seven women, sounded like echoes.
“Why, we don’t even have a proper church yet. And you’re wasting money and precious lumber on this… this den of iniquity.”
Half a dozen heads nodded in agreement.
“Mrs. Thurlong,” the preacher said gently, “maybe you should give Miss Jewel a chance to speak.”
“A chance to speak! We don’t need to hear from the devil’s own. I say we take a torch to this disgusting building before it can become a blight on our community.”
Voices murmured in agreement.
The preacher stepped forward and faced the group of angry women. “Mrs. Thurlong, you agreed we would merely ask Miss Jewel about her intentions for the building.”
“I don’t need to ask,” Lavinia said with an air of importance. “Everyone knows what she’s planning. A whorehouse. Right here in Hanging Tree.” She fixed Jade with a steely look. “And you can’t deny it, can you?”
Jade swung away, turning her back on the crowd.
“You see?” Lavinia shouted. “She can’t deny the truth.”
Jade could hear the preacher’s voice, low, persuasive. “All right, ladies. You’ve made your point. Now I think it’s time to return to your homes.”
“Oh, we’ll go home,” Lavinia cried. “And draw our shutters against the filth invading this town. But I warn you, Reverend, if you don’t persuade her to take her disgusting business elsewhere, we’ll have to resort to something stronger than words.”
Jade clutched her arms about herself and listened to the sound of retreating footsteps and the murmur of voices as the crowd dispersed.
“They mean it, Miss Jewel.”
At the sound of the deep voice, Jade turned. “Reverend Weston. I thought you’d left with the others.”
She took a step back from the charismatic young minister, who seemed to have captivated the imaginations of all the females in Hanging Tree, both young and old. He was too intense, too… volatile. There was about him an aura of strength and mystery that bothered her. From the first time she’d met him, he had affected her this way. She didn’t understand her reaction. But something about him made her uneasy. He was too tall, too muscular, too… potently male.
“I stayed so that we could have a little talk.”
“I don’t want to talk. I just want to watch my building take shape.” She knew her voice sounded breathless, but she couldn’t seem to control it. It wasn’t
