Willow nodded as she hugged her elbows. “Yeah,” she said finally. And then it hit him. Her photo. The one of her as a child, standing beneath a willow tree and tipping up her head in delight at its trailing leaves. It had been taken by her mother – was the only thing Willow had of hers. And it had been in the storage compartment, in the pocket of her other pair of jeans.

He swore, his fists tightening as he glanced back towards the wall the guy had disappeared over. The thought of the slimy creep stealing Willow’s photo – tearing it apart to see if there was money in the frame, then throwing it away in the garbage somewhere...

“Alex, it’s okay,” said Willow, touching his arm. “It’s...it’s only a photo. You couldn’t catch him now, anyway. And besides, we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves – just let it go.”

He let out a breath, hating himself. “I almost had him...”

“It’s okay,” Willow repeated. “It really is.” Stepping forward, she hugged his waist. As he held her close, Alex knew he was seriously never going to forgive himself for this, even if Willow already had.

“I love you, you know that?” she said.

He managed a rueful smile. “Why, because I let that jerk steal your photo?”

Willow looked up; her eyes were like a forest washed with rain. He could see the happiness in them as she regarded him. “No, actually it’s because you’re everything I ever wanted.”

“I love you too,” he said softly, kissing her. Then he sighed. “Anyway, you’re right – I won’t catch him now. We’d better get going.”

He reattached the camping gear. Just as they started to climb back onto the bike, the woman hurried out from behind her stand again with a paper-wrapped package. The rich aroma of roast pork rose up from it.

“Please, take these for later,” she said in Spanish. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Gracias, Señora.” Alex put the food in the damaged storage compartment, grateful to have it. They could save some money on dinner now.

“Gracias,” echoed Willow fervently. “Muchas, muchas gracias.”

A few minutes later they were speeding down the highway once more, leaving Chihuahua in a haze of heat behind them. The houses they passed were small, dusty, in various shades of pastel with black water tanks perched on top of each one. Alex gazed beyond the homes to the rugged shape of the Sierra Madre, looming off to the southwest. And with all his heart, he wished that Willow had never had her dream. He’d have had a decent shot at keeping her safe, up there in that wilderness. Mexico City was going to be anybody’s guess.

But they’d made their choice now. As they roared down the desert highway, he reached for Willow’s hand at his waist and twined his fingers through hers.