“Please, Mr. Tyler, I cannot possibly allow you to be alone in my cabin with me,” she told him in exasperation when he asked if he could join her for a glass of wine in her stateroom. They stood at the door. The heat was stifling in the passageway; perspiration dotted his upper lip and forehead.

He looked almost desperate.

“Y-you are the m-most beautiful woman I have ever s-seen,” he managed to get out in a stutter, “and I consider it an honor just t-to be in your presence.”

It seemed like forever since she had been told that she was beautiful in such a sincere, sweet way, and Ginny was touched. Impulsively, she leaned forward and pressed a light kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Mr. Tyler.”

“Well,” a familiar, drawling voice said behind her, “it seems that I always happen to show up at the wrong time, doesn’t it, green-eyes.”

Her heart leaped, and she turned to see Steve standing in the shadows of the passageway. His dark-blue eyes gleamed with amused lights. Half laughing, half crying with relief, Ginny flung herself at him.

“Steve!”

As his arms went around her, holding her tightly against him, he said softly, “You never do what I tell you, you maddening creature! It’s damn lucky for you that this steamer stopped in Galveston, or I would have had to chase you all the way across the Atlantic.”

“And would you, Steve? Would you have followed me across the ocean?” She leaned back in his embrace to study his face, her eyes searching for signs of mockery.

“I’m here, aren’t I? Ginny love, try not to be so impatient. We’ve got the rest of our lives to be together.”

Bending, he scooped her into his arms and carried her inside the cabin. Ginny belatedly remembered Mr. Tyler as she got a glimpse of his pale, shocked face just before Steve slammed shut the door with his foot.

TURNING POINTS

43

Familiar heat seeped into Ginny’s bones as she stood on a small balcony enclosed with delicate wrought iron. The sheer curtains had been pulled back, and a light breeze lifted a heavy strand of her copper hair that was worn loose around her face and over her shoulders. She inhaled deeply. The early morning air of New Orleans was redolent with the scents of fresh pastry and the effusive sweetness of flowering plants. Later in the day, the humid stench of the streets would overpower such pleasant aromas, but now it was evocative of all she loved about the city.

Steve had gone to send a cable to London summoning the children home to America. Tante Celine would bring them, and soon they would all be reunited. At last she would see Laura and Franco again. This time, they would not be parted. They were going home, to Mexico, where they could live in peace and contentment.