“Don Esteban, Doña Genia!” the boy said, grinning from ear to ear, his teeth white in a dark, shining face.

Steve had already dismounted, and passed a hand over the top of the boy’s head to ruffle his hair. “¡Hola, Juan! You have grown since last we saw you.”

“Sí, Don Esteban!”

“Esteban,” Renaldo said, stepping down from the porch to greet his cousin, “we received your telegram just yesterday, but the little house is ready for you. Missie and Rosa saw to that.”

“Rosa is here, too?” Ginny smiled with pleasure as she went forward to greet Melissa Carter Ortega, Renaldo’s wife.

Missie was smiling, her pretty freckled face as young as it had been when last she saw her, untouched by years or tragedy.

“Ginny, it’s so good to see you again,” Missie said, and it was obvious she meant it. She came to her, arms enclosing her in a hug that was both affectionate and warm. Then she stepped back, laughing. “But come inside! You must be exhausted after your trip, and I want to hear all about Laura and Franco. I can’t believe that they’re nearly four now. I miss them so. Oh, and you must meet our Alejandro. Why, he’s not yet a year old but so big…well, you’ll see.”

Half turning when she reached the top step, she said to her husband, “Don’t you let Steve go off anywhere with Luis. I know how they are, so you just bring them on inside with you. Later, you men can catch up on everything.”

Missie took control so efficiently and good-naturedly that no one complained, but instead complied with her wishes as easily as if it had been intended all along.

Ginny soon found herself divested of outer garments and trail dust, ensconced in a huge stuffed chair that bespoke comfort and welcome, sipping fruit juice from an iced glass. Missie certainly had blossomed after marriage to Renaldo. She was confident now, mistress of the house and her own nature, and quite obviously still terribly in love with her husband.

There was an inner glow to her that Ginny envied. A sense of peace emanated from her, imbuing the house with it. Even the heartbreaking loss of their first child had not shattered her new serenity, it seemed. Bruised it certainly, but not destroyed it.

“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.”