Thanks to Steve…his patience and understanding were what had helped her most. How had he known that she would feel much better knowing Renaldo and Missie were in town? When she thought of how he had felt responsible, filled with regret for his own failures, she vowed to give him the benefit of the doubt about the Italian diva. An embrace was not the same as an affair, she reminded herself when the image cropped up to haunt her. He loved her, not Francesca.

And didn’t she know well that appearances were so often deceiving?

On her very first trip to San Antonio she had watched out her hotel window while Steve Morgan faced another gunman across the street, and in just a split second, his opponent lay dead. Then, she had been appalled at the raw, ruthless way of life in this sprawling new country.

It was so long ago. A lifetime. Little shocked her now, though she had learned enough to be wary of situations that once she had considered exciting. There was nothing exciting about a desperation to survive.

In the days following Steve’s departure, she filled her hours with shopping, or lunching with Missie, who stared at her with big reproachful eyes when Ginny laughed gaily, determined not to delve below the surface of anything. She spoke only of shallow topics, such as the cut of a gown, the new fashions from the Lady’s Book, or the latest play at the Majestic.

The great di Paoli had left town not long after Steve, and Ginny would not allow her imagination to take her to uncertain possibilities.

“Ginny, you have changed,” Missie said softly, her small face reflecting concern. “Are you all right?”

“Of course, I’m all right. Why wouldn’t I be? If you mean because Steve has gone off again, this time it’s quite all right. I don’t mind at all. In fact, I’m grateful.” She took a sip of chilled white wine, a French label that was light and refreshing, and smiled gaily. “It gives me time to myself, to do the things that he doesn’t like to do. We were able to talk quite a bit while we were in that lovely valley I told you about. I’ve finally realized that I cannot change him, and that to try only makes us both miserable. Oh, don’t look at me like that, for you know yourself that Steve Morgan is not a man adaptable to any law but his own. I’ve just finally come to accept it.”

“I see.”

“No, I can tell that you don’t see. But it’s all right. We’ve come to a truce, so to speak. I’ve learned to give him room, and he’s learned to be a little more honest about how he feels.”