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‘I’m just a bit tired,’ she murmured. ‘Too much sun.’ Thank goodness Sam had gone to pay the taxi driver.

‘You’ve been doing too much since the accident. Better take it easy this evening.’

She wanted to be alone to reconstruct all that had happened since the morning Sam had carried her up the beach, selfishly counting each moment like a miser with gold. Hadn’t she known even then that her heart had found a home? A compelling force had flowed between them, raising her low body temperature more thoroughly than the blankets Sam had wrapped her in, and she had ceased to be afraid. She remembered, too, how she had called for Greg when the fever was at its height, and Sam had held her close and kissed her hair, soothing her more lovingly than any brother. And in temper he had kissed her later, warning her not to expect brotherly treatment from him. Was it really only concern he felt for the waif he had rescued, or could there possibly be deeper motives?

She watched him peel some notes off a bundle and give them to the taxi driver, declining change.

‘I’m okay,’ she said to Annette. ‘You go on. I’ll wait for Sam.’

For the first time she resented Annette. She was jealous of Benita and Consuelo for being involved in his life. Then she re-lived the experience of her hand in his the way it had been today, and the simple, compatible pleasure it had given her couldn’t be denied. He was an irascible man, arrogant, and too attractive to women for his own good, but none of his faults could lessen the way she felt about him.

The taxi pulled away. Minella stood on the pavement, the brilliance of the white, sun-drenched wall opposite blinding her to all but Sam as he walked towards her, unaware. Nor did the city people who pushed between them realise the cruelty of keeping her from him. She put her hands on her hips and said to herself: ‘What a helluva place to discover you’re in love!’

Annette
was waiting for her when she went up to her room to change for dinner.

‘I want to talk to you, Minella,’ she said, in her schoolteacher voice which was reserved for difficult moments, and there was a sharpness about her that extended from the firm set of her mouth to her neatly placed feet. Minella had never seen her like this before.

‘You’d better come in.’ She totted up the events of the day and couldn’t think of any reason why Annette should look so angry.

The shutters were still across the window to keep out the heat, but now the sun had gone from her room she folded them back, hoping for some air.

‘Minella, you don’t seem to be aware of it, but you really are making a fool of yourself over Sam Stafford,’ Annette said severely. ‘I know you’re very young, but that’s no excuse.’

Completely unprepared for the accusation, Minella stared at her blankly. Coming on top of the revelation a few minutes before, the words seemed to bear no relation to the matter and she wanted to put up a barrier between herself and any intervention until she had had time to sort things out.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said, ‘and I object to always being told I’m very young. Several girls I know of my age are married and have children, so you’ve no right to bring age into any quarrel you intend to pick. Has Greg asked you to speak to me?’

‘No, but he would want me too if he knew how concerned I am. I’ve watched you playing up to Sam, always behaving as if you have priority, and anyone can
see he finds it very amusing. I can’t help wondering what went on before your brother and I arrived.’

So this was what happened when you tried to protect someone! She’d known it was a risk, but hadn’t realised it would have such far-reaching effects. Because of it she had alienated Annette and fallen in love with Sam. What a mess!

‘It’s none of your business,’ she said crossly, and turned away, hoping that would be the end of it. Let Annette think what she liked!

But the terse remark infuriated the other girl and she caught hold of Minella’s shoulder, swinging her round.

‘I’m making it my business,’ she snapped. ‘You’re my husband’s sister, but I’ve always felt we were close enough to be real sisters and that gives me the right to try and talk some sense into you. If you think he’ll ever marry you, Minella, you’re very much mistaken. The Sam Staffords of this world don’t go in for matrimony.’

‘Who said anything about marriage? You’re jumping to conclusions. And how can you possibly know what Sam wants to do? You’ve known him even less time than I have.’ Minella was glad the hotel bedroom was so impersonal. Surely nothing of this would stay in her memory for long. She slipped her feet out of the mules and hoped the cool, tiled floor would effectively ease the burning temper she had to control.

Annette was undeterred. ‘That ridiculous display of hand-holding this afternoon didn’t go unnoticed. You tried to make Sam’s friend get the impression you belonged to him, that’s for sure. Well, I’ve met men like Sam. They’re all the same, out for what they can get. He’s probably been using you as payment in case we don’t have the money to foot the bill you’re costing him.’

‘Annette!’ Minella was horrified. If she had had a bucket of water thrown over her she couldn’t have been more amazed. Whatever was wrong with her sister-in-law? For what purpose was she digging up these degrading suggestions. ‘That’s a disgusting thing to say, and I demand an apology!’

Annette paused uncomfortably, aware that she had gone too far, and sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘All right, perhaps that was a bit dramatic, but I had to jolt you out of that sickly cow-eyed look you give him. It makes me want to throw up!’

There had been differences of opinion between them, but never harsh words like this before, and the anger they provoked was cruel. Minella was close to tears. It was so uncalled-for. The bulk of Annette’s grievance was based on supposition, and there had to be more behind her objections to make her so vindictive. There had to be a stronger reason for this extraordinary slanging match. She studied her a moment and gradually recognised the flickering emotion in her eyes as a need for self-protection rather than concern for someone else. Annette was curiously sensitive about Sam.

‘Why?’. Minella asked, quietly. ‘Why do you want to throw up? Is it because you’re jealous?’

The tables were turned. Annette was on her feet again, eyes blazing, but the retort she had been on the point of making was sucked back on a gasping breath. A hint of fear touched her as she saw adult argument taking shape between her and the girl she had looked upon as a kid sister.

‘I don’t give a damn for him,’ she said. ‘It just makes me furious to see you believing in him with such innocence. He’ll only hurt you.’

‘Then I needn’t have bothered to try and divert him after he made such obvious passes at you the evening you came. He was bowled over—and don’t try telling me you didn’t know it. I saw you react to him, and you’re married. Oh, he’s a
very
attractive man, but so is my brother, and he’s the one I won’t allow to get hurt.’ Annette suddenly wilted. The blotches of angry colour that had stained her fair skin gradually faded.

‘You’re right,’ she agreed, ‘neither of us must hurt Greg.’ She held out her arms in a gesture of apology impossible to ignore and they hugged each other fleetingly, but it was not an easy truce. ‘Promise me you won’t lose your heart to Sam Stafford. I’m sure he’s not worth it. He’s too worldly and too old for you, and Greg wouldn’t approve.’

‘Don’t worry, I can take care of myself,’ said Minella, with careful diplomacy.

When Annette had gone she felt as if she had weathered another storm, and she stood by the window trying to clear her mind of the conflict. There was something odd about Annette’s outburst. It was as if she had been bottling it up for some time and couldn’t contain it any longer, but the reasons she had given could almost have been an excuse for something deeper. She wished she understood what it was. Admittedly she was eight years younger than Greg’s wife, but the difference in their ages was not sufficient to make their outlook on life at such variance. While she had every right to disapprove of her sister-in-law playing around with another man and jeopardising her marriage, there was very little reason why Annette should disapprove of a harmless relationship between two single people, unless she had a personal interest in the affair. Could she possibly have become instantly infatuated with Sam Stafford?

‘The sooner we’re away from these islands the happier I shall be,’ she had said as she went out of the door, almost as if she was afraid of something.

There was a discordant sound in the street below, like tin cans being pulled over the cobbles. Minella hadn’t expected to see a bullock cart in the city, but one came trundling by, stacked high with sugar-beet. The pace was slow and careful, and no doubt the load would reach its destination safely.

Slowly, carefully. That was the way she had to tread now with Sam. Interesting that Annette’s appraisal of him matched her own so well. Surely they couldn’t both be mistaken? But as she thought about it quietly in the aftermath of that verbal storm she knew that had he been any other kind of man she wouldn’t have fallen in love with him.

Both girls were unusually quiet at dinner, and it was assumed they were tired after a long day.

‘It’s a pity we can’t spend longer here,’ said Sam. ‘I could have taken you to the valley of Furnas. It’s quite famous for its exotic plants and you’d think you were in a jungle. And there’s the Seven Cities. ...’

‘Seven besides this one!’ Greg exclaimed.

Sam laughed. ‘No. But there are seven lakes, where perhaps there were settlements in the early days. The two largest are very deep and though they flow into each other one is bright blue and the other green. It’s quite extraordinary. There are plenty of legends about them, but the one I like best is about a shepherd with green eyes who fell in love with a princess who had eyes of royal blue, and when they were parted for ever the tears they shed flowed into the two lakes and gave them their colour.’

‘That’s lovely,’ sighed Minella. ‘I wish we could see them.’

Sam was at his most persuasive, and even Greg wavered. ‘The business is in good hands. Another couple of days wouldn’t matter.’

‘We can’t,’ said Annette firmly. ‘Mrs Douglas agreed to cover for two weeks only, and Minella must certainly get back to her job.’

‘What exactly
do
you do?’ Sam asked. ‘Other than mess around in boats, of course.’

Minella looked down her nose with mock indignation. ‘I sell them. And I’m very good at it.’

‘She’s right,’ said Greg, with a smile. ‘She started in the office of Stave Brothers at eighteen and they discovered she had a natural aptitude for convincing people that a boat was something they couldn’t possibly do without. She’s now part of their top sales team.’ He said it proudly and leaned over to give her hand an affectionate squeeze.

‘You mean she’s one of those glamorous birds who decorate the stands at boat shows,’ said Sam, raising his eyebrows.

‘That as well,’ Minella agreed.

But there was no smile from Annette. ‘You wouldn’t recognise her at work. She’s cool, efficient, and extremely smart—which is more than I can say for her at the moment.’

Since only Minella was aware of the double meaning there was no lull in the conversation, and the sumptuous meal lingered on like all good continental meals. They were entertained by guitar music and folk dancing which involved a lot of stamping of the feet, and a beautiful girl who looked like a gypsy sang the
Pezinho
, which Sam said was one of Sao Miguel’s oldest songs. Minella watched him while the girl was singing, absurdly afraid this might be another one to take his fancy, but it seemed to be only the music he was enjoying.

Afterwards she walked along the Avenida Goncalo Velho with Annette, while Sam took Greg to check the powerboat. The wide sea-front embraced the curve of the harbour, and in the fading evening light she had to concentrate on the black and white stone patterns on
the pavement to stop herself seeking out the place where she knew the
Samanne
was moored. Being without Sam even for a short time was now lamentable and showed her all too clearly the heartbreak permanent parting was going to cause.

‘But there’ll only be a large brown pool where
my
tears are shed,’ she chided herself. ‘And it’s no good thinking there’ll ever be a blue one beside it, because he’ll hardly miss me.’

The day of the bullfight dawned like every other day in the Azores, the humid ocean air promising a full quota of sunshine, but Minella awoke with a premonition that trouble was on the way, and she wasn’t far wrong. To start with, Greg didn’t come down to breakfast. He had always been subject to migraine attacks, and having suffered all night with one he still felt too ill to do anything except stay in a darkened room.

‘When he’s like that he only wants to be left alone,’ said Annette.

‘Which means I shall have the pleasure of taking out two beautiful women today,’ said Sam, after words of sympathy. Then he gave her a very personal smile. ‘Tell him I’ll look after you well.’

Minella had been toying with the idea of making the excuse of a headache herself to get out of going, but not if it meant giving Sam and Annette a day to themselves. She must have been looking uncertain, because Sam turned to her as an afterthought. .

‘And I’ll look after you, too, Sparrow, never fear. Can’t trust these handsome matadors! If you fall for any I want to make sure it’s the right one.’

‘I’m not likely to do that,’ she assured him.

His hand was on the back of her head, ruffling her hair, and the touch sent shock waves cascading down her spine.

They arrived early at the bullring. Sam had people to see and he wanted to be sure they had good seats. It was a sizeable place where there was room for two or three thousand spectators, and in spite of herself Minella found the atmosphere of the crowd infectious, though it hadn’t escaped her notice that the bullring was directly opposite the cemetery. When Sam disappeared she looked round and absorbed the colourful scene, finding it exciting after all.