‘Just praying,’ he said when he’d opened his eyes. ‘You never know.’

She gave a shaky laugh. ‘Does God follow the rodeo?’

‘Never misses.’

There was a cheer as the last competitor came flying out into the ring.

‘I can’t look,’ Selena said, and buried her face against Leo’s chest. At once he put his arms about her. ‘What’s happening?’

‘First barrel, she’s fast but you’re all right, second barrel-now the third-’

The crowd’s cheers became deafening. Leo groaned as he tightened his arms and rested his head on hers.

‘Oh, no!’ she cried. ‘No, no, no!’

‘By a tenth of a second,’ Leo said. ‘I’m sorry carissima.’

She raised her head. ‘What did you call me?’

‘Carissima. It’s Italian.’

‘Yes, but what does it mean?’

‘Well-’

But while he wondered whether to risk telling her that the word meant ‘Darling’ they heard a bellow from Barton, congratulating and commiserating with her both together.

The moment passed, and Leo was left reflecting that he who hesitated was lost. Or if not actually lost, then forced to wait for another chance.

It was a cheerful party that drove home that night. Delia had done excellent business, Selena had picked up some prize money for coming second, and Leo had stayed on the bull for a whole three seconds. That was cause for rejoicing, so they did, far into the night.

Despite her defeat Selena was happy. The money for second had been better than usual. Leo found her sitting on the porch, contemplating it blissfully.

‘I’m rich, I’m rich!’

‘A hundred dollars is rich?’ he asked quizzically.

‘It’s a king’s ransom. Well, OK, maybe a very minor king. Who wants to ransom a king anyway? Do away with the lot!’

She was drunk with her little bit of success, laughing as she talked, going wildly, joyfully over the top.

‘So much for royalty,’ Leo observed. ‘Obviously you don’t believe in them.’

‘Who needs ’em? Or guys with handles.’

‘You mean titles?’ he asked, sensing the conversation taking a dangerous turn. ‘Down with the wicked aristocrats? Ouch!’ He rubbed his shoulder.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked quickly. ‘You got a neck pain, shoulder pain?’

‘More of a whole body pain,’ he said ruefully. ‘But perhaps the neck more than the rest.’

‘Here, let me have a go,’ she said, getting behind him and rubbing his neck. ‘This is no good. Your collar’s in the way. Take your shirt off.’

She helped him off with it, then got to work on his neck, his shoulders, his spine, with deft, skilful fingers.

‘Thanks,’ he said gratefully. ‘Hey, you’re good at this.’

‘I do it a lot.’

‘You do this for all the guys? Aren’t there medical people whose job it is?’

‘Sure, but if you can’t afford them you do it for each other.’

He considered this, not liking the implications. But her fingers were spreading welcome warmth and ease, and he settled for counting his blessings.

‘You’ve got them in Italy, haven’t you?’ she asked.

‘What?’

‘Aristocrats. Careful, don’t jump like that or I might hurt you.’

‘Did I? Didn’t mean to.’ The word aristocrats had caught him by surprise.

‘Italy is a republic-but we’ve still got one or two of them,’ he said cautiously.

‘Ever actually met them, I mean talked to them, face to face?’

‘They’re not a species of reptile, Selena.’

‘That’s just what they are. They should be in a cage in a zoo.’

‘But you know nothing about them.’

‘Well, do you?’

‘I know that some of them aren’t so bad.’

‘Why are you defending them? You should be on my side-down the aristos, up the workers.’

‘So you’d like to send them all to the guillotine?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I’d make them get their hands dirty in the fields, with the workers, like us.’

‘You don’t know I’m a worker,’ he said. ‘Who knows what I do when I’m back in Italy?’

She left what she was doing and took one of his hands in hers. It was large and roughened.

‘Of course I know,’ she said. ‘This is a worker’s hand. It’s been battered and hurt a few times. It’s got scars.’

It was all true, but the fields were his own and they brought him a fortune larger than Barton’s. His innocent deception lay heavy on him, and suddenly he couldn’t bear it.

‘Selena-’

She didn’t seem to hear him. She was turning his hand over, holding it gently. Then she looked up and her gaze shocked him with its innocent candour. There was a glow in her eyes that seemed to dazzle him, and he looked quickly away.

‘What is it?’ she asked quietly, laying down his hand.

‘Nothing, I-’ He gave her a bright, forced smile, and spoke hurriedly. ‘I’m just aching all over. Tomorrow I’ll see a bone-setter. Well, now, I reckon it’s time to turn in. You too. You’ve had a long, hard day.’

‘Yes, I have,’ she murmured bleakly. ‘Very hard.’

The last night of the rodeo was to be marked by one of the barbecues that Barton gave at the drop of a hat. There was no hospitality like that to be found at the Four-Ten, and as they drove back they were followed by a procession of vehicles.

Leo knew a curious sense of dissatisfaction. He would be leaving next day, but he wasn’t ready for that. Something had started here but not finished, and he couldn’t make things happen because he didn’t know enough about his own feelings.

Selena tugged at his heart as no other woman had ever done, but there were chasms between them, chasms of lifestyle, country, language. They didn’t even believe in the same kind of future. Only the most overwhelming love could overcome such problems. And how could he hope for such love from a woman who seemed not to believe in it?

The thought of saying goodbye hurt badly. He’d hoped she minded as much, but she made it impossible to tell. And perhaps that was his answer.

They’d seen little of each other since the night she’d rubbed his back and he’d nearly been overwhelmed by his longing for her, and his conscience-stricken awareness that he was treading a fine line.

The next day he’d been to a chiropractor, who pulled and pushed him, told him not to be such a darned fool another time, and left him a hundred dollars poorer. He’d still ached afterward, although whether it was from the fall or the treatment he couldn’t say, but he felt a good deal better now.

He dressed quickly for the evening. From down below came the sounds of music and laughter and he looked out on the pleasant scene. Sweet-smelling smoke came from the barbecue, lights were strung between the trees and the music seemed to beckon him.

Selena was already there. He could see her in the centre of a small crowd, and guessed she’d done herself some good with her fizzing performances. Her future would be brighter now, and the help he’d given her would bear fruit, even if she didn’t know it; even if she forgot about him completely and never gave him another thought for the rest of her days.

On that gloomy reflection he went down to join the party.

There was plenty to distract him, great food, fine whisky, smiling ladies. But suddenly his appetite had gone and he didn’t want to drink. He followed her jealously with his eyes, dancing when he had to, but always trying to keep her in view.

Barton, good host that he was, made much of his guests, calling for toasts and rounds of applause. Leo joined in the applause for Selena and raised his glass to her. She raised hers back.

As everyone broke into another boisterous dance he made his way through the crowd to her and saw that her eyes were shining.

‘I feel so good,’ she said happily. ‘Oh, Leo, if you only knew how good I feel!’

‘That’s great,’ he said tenderly. ‘That’s how I always want you to feel.’

‘I’ve just been interviewed by the local paper about my “successes”-both of them.’

After being narrowly beaten in the first barrel race, she’d won on the following day, and achieved another second on the day after. On the final day there had been a big event for the best ten competitors from the previous races. And she’d stormed to victory.

‘Do you know how much money I’ve got now?’ she asked in wonder.

‘Yes, I do. You told me. And take care of it.’

‘It’s more than I’ve ever had before at one time.’

‘What are you going to do with it?’

‘Enter more events. This could see me through my next six months.’

‘And then?’

‘By then I should have enough for the next year. I’m on my way.’

Which didn’t sound much as if she was planning to pine for him.

He chinked glasses with her, then walked away to sweep Carrie into the mêlée. They danced until they were both breathless and laughing, then went into the waltz together.

‘Did you manage it?’ Carrie asked.

‘It?’

‘Selena. Is she as nuts about you as you are about her?’ Since the day Leo had appealed to her in the discussion about bull riding she’d settled into the role of the understanding sister.

‘She sure isn’t nuts about me.’

‘But you are about her.’

‘Carrie, please!’

‘OK. Only I think I saw her looking for you, and I was planning to melt tactfully away, but if-’

‘You’re a darling.’

He kissed her cheek and turned to find Selena eyeing him with a curious little smile on her lips.

‘You haven’t danced with me yet,’ she said.

Carrie melted, as promised, only taking a quick look back to see Leo and Selena go into each other’s arms like two halves of a whole.

They danced in silence for a while, each thinking that by this time tomorrow they would have gone their separate ways.

Selena was full of confusion. She’d said goodbyes before, but never like this. She tried to be practical. All she had to do was hold out until he’d gone, and then forget him. It should be easy forgetting a man half a world away. But her heart was telling her that he would never be far away from her again, because she would carry him with her every moment, for the rest of her life.

The music changed. Suddenly a lone violin was playing a melancholy strain of longing and farewell. She would never see him again. She held him close and her heart ached.

With her eyes closed, she didn’t see where he was taking her. She only knew that they were dancing, circling, circling, while the sounds faded. She danced on in a dream where there was only herself and him, circling around and around.

‘Selena…’

His voice whispering her name made her open her eyes to find his face close to hers.

‘Selena,’ he said again, his breath brushing her face, and her murmured, ‘Yes,’ was so swift that their breath intermingled.

Then his mouth was on hers, and he was kissing her with a fierceness born out of desperation. She was slipping through his fingers, and holding her was like trying to hold onto quicksilver.

She answered him with the same fierceness. From the moment they’d met something had been bound to happen between them, and it had taken too long. Now she wouldn’t let it go. She would have her hour, whatever it cost, and live in its glory all her days.

Her life had taught her little about love and tenderness. What she knew she’d discovered for herself. Something was happening inside her now that was totally new. She hadn’t known before that just being in a man’s arms could make her ache with joy and sadness together, so that she didn’t know which one was the greater. Nor did it matter. She was alive to feelings and sensations that she would never regret, no matter how much pain they might cost her. And there would be pain. Life had taught her that much.

She’d kissed other men, but none like this. He was a man whom, she guessed, had lived a full life with women, yet his touch had a curious innocence about it, as though he too was experiencing something for the first time. Through the driving urgency she could still feel the tenderness, as though caring for her mattered more to him than any other satisfaction.

Yet he wanted her to the point where it was driving him crazy. She could sense that through the trembling of his great, powerful body, the rise and fall of his chest. It excited her to know that she affected him so much. She wanted him as much in thrall to her as she was to him, and she teased him with her lips, urging him on to the point where they would meet.

It was he who ended the kiss, seizing her shoulders and pushing her back a few inches, so that he could look into her face. His own was wild.

‘We picked one heckuva time,’ he gasped. ‘Maybe we should-’

‘Maybe we should what? Be sensible? Who wants to be sensible?’

‘Well I sure don’t, but you-Selena, tomorrow-’ He stopped. The words of cool wisdom hung in the air and died unspoken.