Dust Devil

What
reviewers have to say about
New
York Times
bestselling
author

REBECCA
BRANDEWYNE

“
Rebecca
Brandewyne creates stellar characters for her MIRA debut!”

—
Romantic
Times

“
Rebecca
Brandewyne has become a legend for her unique gift of creating
unforgettable characters and imaginative narrative. Her tales are as
intoxicating as rare wine...”

—
Rendezvous

Dear
Reader,

Once
in a great while for an author, a book comes along that she knows
instinctively is somehow different from her usual work, special in a
way that she can’t define, can only sense. For me, my new
novel
Dust
Devil
is
one of those rare books, for a number of reasons. It’s the kind
of novel—a big, mainstream, contemporary romance—that
I've wanted to write for several years but never had the opportunity
until now. It is an intricately interwoven story that, through its
heroine, Sarah Kincaid, touches on a number of issues that affect all
of us women in our everyday roles as lovers, wives, mothers and
daughters. And last but not least, its hero, Renzo Cassavettes, is
the one man who, out of all the heroes I’ve ever created, I
would most want to know in real life. Renzo and Sarah share the kind
of love that every woman dreams of but is incredibly lucky ever to
find. It is a once-in-a-lifetime bond that endures forever and that
for Renzo and Sarah is symbolized by a butterfly that touches them
both, each in a special way. But like all things, there is a price to
be paid for their love, and the high cost is borne not just by them
alone, but also by the entire town in which
they
live.
A town whose secrets, sins and scandals threaten to tear the two of
them apart—and, in doing so, draw them together irrevocably.
For theirs is a love as deep and undeniable as it is passionate and
forbidden.

This
is an epic story about the idealistic, the realistic and the
romantic, about the powerful, the ambitious, and the corrupt, all of
them swept up by catastrophic events that are like a destructive dust
devil blowing into their small, rural town, changing it for always.
But most of all, it is a story about the triumph of the human spirit
in the face of human failures.

I
am so thrilled and delighted that MIRA gave me the chance to share
this novel with you. I hope you enjoy reading it as much
as
I
did writing it.

All
best,

(signature)

REBECCA

BRANDEWYNE

DUST

DEVIL

MIRA
BOOKS

If
you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this
book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and
destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the
publisher has received any payment for this ‘‘stripped
book.”

MIRA

ISBN
1-55166-063-6 DUST DEVIL

Copyright
©
1996
by
Rebecca Brandewyne
.

All
rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or
utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any
electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter
invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any
information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the
written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill
Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

All
characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of
the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing she same
name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual
known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

MIRA
and the star colophon are trademarks of MIRA Books.

Printed
in U.&A.

For
my agent,

Meg
Ruley,

because
she said all the right things— and at a time when I most needed
to hear them.

With
much affection and appreciation.

Contents

PROLOGUE

All
the Roads Run

Page
2

BOOK
ONE

By
Our Beginnings

Page
7

BOOK
TWO

The
Prodigal's Return

Page
159

BOOK
THREE

Dust
Devil

Page
347

EPILOGUE

To
Amore

Page
463

There
is sweet music here that softer falls

Than
petals from blown flowers on the earth,

Or
sunbeams on still waters between walls

Of
jagged old rock that once rang with mirth;

Music
that gentlier on the spirit lies

Than
summer breeze o’er tall grass sighs;

Music
that brings passion’s fire ’neath the blissful skies.

Here
are cool mosses deep,

And
honeysuckle vines that creep,

And
on the banks the long-leaved willows weep,

And
in the shadowed woods bluebottles flit and leap.

Now
are we weighed upon with heaviness

And
utterly consumed with dull distress.

Is
there no rest from constant weariness?

From
dreams that come on butterfly wings of night

And
wake eternal yearning for those

Halcyon
days of light

Long
gone, like birds that soar in autumn flight?

From
wild seed pain grows

And
brings all our sorrows;

No
surcease lies in slumber’s holy balm,

Nor
comfort in the inner spirit’s prose,

“
Seek
refuge in the calm!”

Shall
only emptiness haunt all our tomorrows?

No!
for from the ever-winding road,

Hot
wind brings a dust devil of forebode

To
tear the past’s dark veil aside

And
sweep aloft all that would hide.

Full
exposed to the sun’s harsh blaze,

Secret
sins must out, whether ill or fair;

The
reckoning doth abide,

Lo!
ever in the future’s wake.

So
comes the judgment, demanding full repair.

Now,
again, music low doth spake

All
its allotted length of days;

Night
blossoms ripen in their ways,

Ripen
and fade, wine-sweet, and fireflies spark

Like
lovers in the silent dark.
^*