“Tell me about Laura and Franco,” Missie begged, perched on the arm of a fat chair near Ginny. “Are they big now? Oh, I wish I could see them again. I cried for a week after they left here. I felt as if I were losing them forever.”
Smiling, Ginny told her about Laura’s new puppy and how Franco had climbed to nearly the top of a huge tree, scaring her and Tante Celine.
“He is so reckless, it frightens me.”
“Like his father, it seems.” Missie glanced at the far end of the room where the men stood, and there was something in her eyes that reminded Ginny that once she had been in love with Steve, just a little. It had not been mentioned, but on occasion, a casual comment had reminded her that the girl had loved him once. Another ghost from Steve’s past; they were as numerous as her own, she thought.
“Yes, I have thought the same thing myself. Tell me about your Alejandro. Does he have your red hair?”
Laughing, Missie nodded, and for a time they discussed their children as easily as if they had been old friends. Perhaps they were in a way. Missie Carter had accepted Ginny without reservation, if not without a bit of shock. After all, to the innocent Melissa, Ginny had been a cosmopolitan creature far removed from her experience and world. She had been half fascinated, half afraid of the elegant young woman who seemed supremely confident.
It had been a revelation to Missie to discover that beneath the facade she showed the world, Ginny Brandon was as uncertain at times as she was, and as unhappy. It was Manolo—Steve—who had made her that unhappy, of course, as once he had even made her.
But that had been so long ago. She’d met Renaldo, and realized that the kind of man like Steve Morgan would destroy her woman’s soul if she fell in love with him. Oh, but he had been so exciting, so dangerous, and while she did not regret for a moment that he loved Ginny and not her, there was a bit of her that wondered with a delicious shudder what it would be like to be with him.
It had almost happened once, but she had been so naive, expecting tenderness and starlight, not the kind of harsh, ruthless invasion he intended. Perhaps he had known that, had done it only to show her that he was not at all what she wanted. He was right, of course. He’d terrified her.
But she never intended to allow Ginny to know any of that, for it was so long ago, and she’d been just a child playing at love, playing at passion. Renaldo, with his steady, honorable love and fierce desire to protect her, was what she had really wanted all along.
“Do you travel to Mexico City often?” Ginny was asking her, and Missie smiled and shook her head.
“Not as often as I would like. Oh, I love it here, you know I do, but there are times I want to see other places, go where I’ve never been before and see new things. I envy you your travels. You’ve been everywhere, and I’ve hardly left Texas or Mexico. Though Renaldo has promised me a trip to El Paso soon, as he has some business for his abuelo up there. Something to do with cattle.” She laughed. “I don’t pay much attention when they talk market prices, I’m afraid. I prefer to think of the hotels and shops and the theater. El Paso has a new theater and Renaldo has promised to take me. Why, they even have opera now, though not often.”
“Why El Paso and not San Antonio?” Ginny asked. “It seems much too far to go for cattle business, when you’re much closer to San Antonio from here, or even Brownsville, where you can ship beef from the port.”
Missie shrugged. “As I said, I don’t interfere in the business aspect. I just enjoy the few trips I get to make.”
When Ginny nodded with a faint smile, Missie said, “Did you bring the new styles with you from France? Or the Lady’s Book? I’d love to wear something no one has seen yet, and be in fashion.”
“Fashions don’t reach here for two years after they come out in France,” Ginny murmured, and her lovely green eyes were a little dark as she glanced across the room toward Steve. There was a pensive quality to her, though she attempted to hide it.
Missie wondered what could be bothering her, or if they had quarreled again. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time!
Ginny turned to her suddenly. “But I did bring some new gowns. Has our baggage not arrived yet? It should have been here long before now.”
Missie shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Unless, of course, it has come and no one thought to tell me. We can ask Señora Armijo tomorrow. She will certainly know. She knows everything.”
Ginny laughed. “I suppose she’s beside herself with the preparations for the fiesta.”
“Oh my…” Missie spread her arms out, shaking her head. “It has been impossible while we waited for word from you that you were on your way. Now that you are here, she had no doubt gone into a complete frenzy. But it will all be perfect, no doubt. Have you seen Don Francisco yet?”
“No, I imagine we will see him tomorrow. Is he well?”
“He’s quite well, and I credit his wife for that. Doña Teresa is very efficient, and the only one I know who can deal properly with Señora Armijo.”
“I suppose I’ll meet her tomorrow as well,” Ginny said, then rose from the chair with a faint smile. “It’s late and I really must go to bed. I’m afraid I’m not at
