The Amazon Quest (House of Winslow Book #25)

by Gilbert, Morris

  © 2001 by Gilbert Morris

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2011

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-7050-4

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.

  Cover illustration by Bill Graf

  Cover design by Josh Madison

  To Terry McDowell—

  my editor and my friend.

  It’s hard to believe that we have done all these Winslow novels, Terry. You have done a splendid job as an editor and have been a light along the way to me. Thanks for all the work and the tender love and care you’ve put in on these books.

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  PART ONE

  March-October 1917

  1. Arab Death

  2. A Real War Hero!

  3. The Winds of War

  4. We’re Coming Over!

  5. Emily Has a Disagreement

  6. Buck Leatherwood

  PART TWO

  November 1918-January 1919

  7. An Unexpected Visitor

  8. “It’s All Right to Cry. . . .”

  9. A New Job

  10. Christmas at Belle Maison

  11. The Heart Is Deceitful

  12. Behind the Mask

  PART THREE

  May 1922-August 1923

  13. Summa Cum Laude

  14. At the End of the Rainbow

  15. The Dark Side of Brazil

  16. “Can We Trust Him?”

  17. A Dangerous Trip

  18. “I Can’t Forgive Him!”

  PART FOUR

  Summer-Autumn 1923

  19. “I Never Loved Anyone . . .”

  20. The Guapi Way

  21. Sarita 2

  22. “Love Can Be Painful”

  23. Prison Doors Open

  24. No Greater Love

  25. Farewells

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  Arab Death

  “Oh, come on, Jared—don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud!”

  Jared Winslow looked down at his younger sister, Emily, with irritation written across his features. At the age of eighteen he felt that the two-year advantage he had over her demanded from him a special responsibility for her safety and well-being. He himself was an even-tempered young man given to serious thought, but Emily was prone to a vitriolic temperament, although she had a kind heart. She often tested the limits of their parents’ guidelines, and now as Jared studied her, he wondered where she had gotten such qualities. No longer a child, she was not yet fully a woman either but was clearly entering the mysterious and dangerous world of adulthood. She was not particularly beautiful but was so vivacious and lively that no one seemed to notice. She had a wide face, a full mouth usually turned upward in a grin, a creamy complexion that complemented her red hair, and almost electric cornflower blue eyes. Her prominent widow’s peak was an attribute she hated and frequently threatened to shave off. Now as Jared observed her, he couldn’t help but notice how quickly his little sister was growing up before his eyes. It seemed only last year she had been as thin as a garden rake, but now the light green crossover sweater she wore revealed her maturing feminine outline. She had on a dark gray skirt, and a green ribbon tied her hair back from her face.

  “We’re not going to see that immoral woman and that’s final!” Jared said firmly. “Everybody knows she’s no good. Nothing but a vamp.”

  “But I want to see her, Jared. Please. Just this once.”

  Jared hesitated—and promptly lost the argument. When up against his sister, there was no room for hesitation, for once she had her foot in the door, she would press in until she got her way.

  “It’s only an old movie,” Emily insisted, “and everybody’s talking about Theda Bara.”

  “Theda Bara—what a name!” Jared groaned.

  “It’s an anagram for ‘Arab death,’ you know.”

  “I know that!” Jared snapped. “But it’s just downright indecent!”

  “You’ve never seen one of her movies.”

  “You don’t have to see them. Everybody’s talking about what kind of woman she is. James Satterfield saw her in that movie A Fool There Was. He said it was pretty bad and would do nothing but lead men right down to the pit.”

  Indeed, Theda Bara had cast quite a spell over the American public. She brought a pantherlike purring to screen characters such as Juliet, Camille, and Cleopatra. Her seductiveness was thought to be a grave threat to public morality. Ministers thundered against her from pulpits coast to coast, but apparently with little effect, for theaters continued to sell out across the country. Earlier Clara Bow and the Gibson Girl had been the symbols of womanhood, but now American young people were flocking to see Theda Bara.

  Jared and Emily were walking along the sidewalk in their hometown of Richmond, Virginia. Each of them carried a paper sack, having just gone to the neighborhood grocery store. An overly large dog of questionable ancestry trotted along beside them. Seeing a squirrel, the dog lurched over toward Emily, who reached down and shoved him away. “Get away, Cap’n Brown!”

  Cap’n Brown gave her a reproachful look, then lumbered off on his fruitless chase.

  “There ought to be some sort of law against a dog that big,” Jared remarked.

  Despite Jared’s teasing, all of them loved the big dog. Jared had found him abandoned in a rainstorm, half drowned and hungry, and had brought him home. All three of the Winslow children—Emily, Wesley, and Jared—had mounted an attack on their parents to keep him and had been successful. Now at the age of three, Cap’n Brown was full grown and very large. Having lost sight of his prey, he jogged back with his tongue lolling out like a red necktie.

  By the time they had reached the walkway that led up to their house, a large two-story Victorian with turrets and intricate trim, Jared felt exhausted. “We’re not going and that’s it.”

  Emily’s temper flared. “All right! If you won’t go, I’ll go by myself!”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I will. You see if I don’t. We need to know what’s going on in the world,” Emily insisted.

  Jared rolled his eyes up and heaved a sigh of exasperation. “All right, Emily, I’ll take you to the dumb movie—but if Mom and Dad find out about it, we’re dead!”

  ****

  Emily blinked as she came out of the Rialto Theater. She and Jared had taken advantage of an early matinee, and both of them fervently hoped their parents would not ask them where they had been. Usually Jared went to ball practice, and Emily quite frequently had after-school meetings, for she was active in many of the clubs. Now as they stood outside of the theater, Emily said, “Oh, Jared, wasn’t that exciting?”

  Pushing his lips out in disgust, Jared shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think it was downright depraved.”

  “Depraved! How can you say that?”

  “Why, that woman’s nothing but a tramp.”


  “That’s just a role she plays. In real life, she’s probably very sweet.”

  “Sweet! You can take one look at her and know exactly what she is. All you have to do is go down to the eastside right here in Richmond, and you’ll see women like that hanging around bars.”

  Emily suddenly laughed aloud and turned toward Jared. She grabbed him by his sweater and pulled him around. “How do you know what bad women look like? Have you been hanging around bars on the eastside?”

  Jared’s face flushed. Being a very truthful young man, he shrugged his shoulders. “I went once with a couple of guys, but it didn’t take me long to decide it wasn’t for me.”

  Emily took his arm and held on to it as they turned to leave. They had not gone more than ten feet when a piercing whistle made them both pivot around to see where the sound had come from. Three young men were lounging outside of Benny’s Pool Hall. All of them were smoking cigarettes and had their hair greased back in the current fashion. The leader of the three wore a lightweight sweater in the cool March wind.

  “Hey, sweetie, how’d you like Theda Bara? Some doll, hey?”

  “Don’t pay any attention to them,” Jared said. “Come on.”

  But the thickset, bulky young man in his late teens moved quickly toward them. He blocked their way and soon was flanked by the other two. All three were grinning, and the tall, lanky one with blond hair said, “What do you say, Judd? Maybe we should take the little lady out and show her the town.”

  Judd laughed aloud. He turned and spat on the street, then flicked his cigarette away with a careless gesture. “That might be a good idea. What’s your name, babe?”

  “None of your business!” Emily snapped back. “Come on, Jared.”

  Emily started to walk away, but Judd grabbed her arm and swung her around, pulling her away from Jared. “Let me loose!” she screamed.

  “Hey, this redhead’s got a temper, Mort.”

  “I always liked a little spirit in a woman. Come on, sweetheart, let’s you and me go stepping!”

  “Turn her loose!”

  Jared’s face was flushed as he lunged toward the man who had grabbed Emily. He was a well-built young man of six feet and one of the best athletes Richmond had ever produced. He had starred in basketball, football, and baseball, his strong right arm making him the best pitcher in the area. Angry now, he reached out and slapped Judd’s hand away. “Let go of her arm!”

  Judd’s face was scarred from many a brawl. Always eager for a fight, he planted his beefy hand against Jared’s chest and shoved him backward. “Why don’t you go for a walk, sonny? We’ll take care of your lady friend here.”

  Emily cried out, “Don’t, Jared!”

  But she was too late. Jared had launched his powerful right hand, and his fist caught Judd squarely on the cheek. The blow turned the husky young man around but did nothing to hurt him. Judd instantly swung back, striking Jared’s chest and forcing him off balance.

  As Jared staggered backward, Emily saw the other two moving toward him, and when one of them doubled up his fist and drew it back to hit Jared from behind, she kicked him in the knee with all of her might.

  “Ow!” he yelled, hopping about on one foot.

  Meanwhile, the tall one named Mort reached out and grabbed at Emily, but she immediately yanked his hair back as hard as she could. The young man let out a loud howl, and Emily held on like grim death.

  Judd and Jared were fairly evenly matched. Judd was heavier and stronger, but Jared was much faster with his fists. As the two exchanged blows, Judd was getting somewhat the best of it.

  Emily yelled out, “You let my brother alone!” and jumped up in the air, landing on Judd’s back. She threw her hands around his face, blinding him. He tried to shake her off, but she clung like a leech.

  There was little doubt how the fight would have ended, for the three thugs clearly had the advantage over Jared and Emily.

  But Emily heard a voice saying, “All right, you fellows. Break it up.”

  She turned to see the slight man who had come to their rescue. He was wearing a dark gray suit with a white shirt and a tie and looked exactly like a schoolteacher—which indeed he was. “Mr. Laurence!” Emily cried.

  Ryan Laurence was the English teacher at Richmond High School. With his thin build and average height, he was not a prepossessing figure. Around thirty years old, he had blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a lean, aristocratic face. He ordered the boys in his dignified British accent, “You fellows move along, or I’ll have you run in.”

  Judd was shaking his head as he stared at the soft-spoken man who had interrupted their fight. “You want to get in on this?”

  “No, I’ve designated all this kind of fighting to my dog,” Mr. Laurence replied. He glanced across the street and said, “There’s Officer Sullivan over there. Would you like to take it up with him?”

  Judd shot a glance across the street and at once ducked his head. “Come on, guys,” he said. “There’s nothin’ here. Let’s go shoot some pool.”

  As the three went inside the pool hall, Emily approached Ryan Laurence. “Mr. Laurence, I’m so glad you came.”

  “How did this brawl start?” the teacher inquired. Seeing Jared’s bloody nose, he took out his handkerchief and offered it to him. “Maybe we’d better go put some cold water on that.”

  “No, it’s all right, Mr. Laurence,” Jared said. “But I’m sure glad you came along. Another few minutes and I’d have been a goner.”

  “Yes, thanks a lot, Mr. Laurence.” Emily’s eyes glowed as she spoke to the man. She had developed a girlhood crush on Ryan Laurence that had lasted for two years now.

  Avoiding her gaze, he replied, “Well, I didn’t do anything really.” Then, cocking his head to one side, Laurence lifted a suspicious eyebrow. “You young people haven’t been to that movie, have you?”

  Emily lifted her chin. “Why, yes, we have.”

  “Do your folks know about it?”

  “No, they don’t,” Jared said quickly.

  “It wasn’t his fault, Mr. Laurence. I made Jared take me.”

  Laurence suddenly smiled, his eyes twinkling. “You have a habit of getting your own way, Emily. I’ve noticed that.”

  “Why, Mr. Laurence, how can you say that?”

  “I say that because last semester I gave you a B, and you came to see me about it. When you walked out the door, somehow you had an A.” He reached up and removed his felt hat and ran his hand over his fine hair, which was blowing in the wind. “I never have figured out how you did that.”

  “I just explained some things that you didn’t understand.” Emily smiled.

  Laurence laughed. “I suppose so. Well, you both better get home now.”

  “You’re not going to tell our parents, are you, Mr. Laurence?” Emily pleaded.

  “No, I’m not. But I would think maybe your conscience would lead you to confess it. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

  “He’s so good-looking,” Emily sighed after the man had walked away. “And don’t you just love that English accent?”

  “Not as much as you do.” Jared managed a grin. “Well, come on. Let’s go home and tell our folks that we’ve fallen into the depths of depravity.”

  “You’re going to tell them?” Emily said with alarm.

  “I sure am. I don’t want this on my conscience.” He reached out and playfully punched Emily on the arm. “And since you don’t have a conscience, I’ll have to do the confessing for both of us. I’ll tell them I talked you into going with me.”

  “They’ll never believe that,” Emily said. She looked up and smiled slowly, studying her brother’s face. She thought he was the most handsome young man she had ever seen, with the same crisp brown hair and blue eyes as their father. The two of them were very close—more like best friends than siblings. Jared also looked a lot like their brother, Wesley. The family resemblance did not carry over into their friendship, however. Emily shared a much closer bond to Jared than to Wesle
y. She and Jared had always been into everything together. He was the perfect older brother. He took her with him practically everywhere, and Emily idolized him. She had never missed one of his games, be it basketball, football, or baseball. Now she took his arm and said, “Let me tell them, Jared. They won’t be as hard on me as they would be on you.”

  ****

  “So you went to see that horrible woman,” Aaron Winslow said. At the age of forty-four he still carried no excess weight. As he looked across at his two older children, he was worried about them but did not let his concern show. He was wearing a light blue woolen jacket and gray flannel trousers. His pale blue shirt was open at the neck, and he looked tan and fit, for he spent a great deal of time hunting, fishing, and on the golf course. Now he looked over toward his wife, Gail, and shook his head. “What are we going to do with these two?”

  Gail Summers Winslow was thirty-seven but looked at least ten years younger. She was one of those women who seemed not to age. Her rich brown hair was as abundant, and had the same reddish tint, as the first time Aaron had seen her. She shook her head now and said, “I think we ought to ground them for the rest of their lives.”

  “Oh, Mom, you don’t want to do that to us,” Emily countered. “It was just an old movie.” She could tell by her mother’s expression, however, that she was upset. Emily had learned to recognize her mother’s moods, and now she tried to reason with her. “It wasn’t so bad, Mom.”

  “It doesn’t make any difference how bad the movie was,” Aaron said sternly. “What disappoints your mother and me is that you did it knowing we wouldn’t approve.”

  “It was my fault, Dad,” Jared said.

  “It was not,” Emily cried. “I talked him into it. He did everything he could to make me change my mind. I finally told him I’d go by myself if he didn’t take me.”

  Aaron listened as his daughter defended her brother, and finally said, “You know you’re wrong, don’t you, Emily?”

  Emily Winslow was an honest young woman. As far as Aaron and Gail could tell, she had only lied to them once in her life, and that was when she was eight years old. She had come to them brokenhearted over deceiving them and had cried her heart out. Something in her could not stand a deviation from the truth—in herself or in anyone else. Now she admitted, “I knew it was wrong, and I’m sorry, Mom and Dad. But please don’t blame Jared.”