Free Revenge of the Black Virgin by Serena Janes

in art school and took a photography
program.”
    “Can you make a living taking pictures in
this part of the world?” Brenda asked.
    “No. Spain is, of course, suffering a deep
financial depression. Nobody has any money. So when I received your
telephone call,” he solemnly nodded his head at Brenda, “I was very
happy.”
    “And when I met you two lovely ladies,” he
added with a wide smile, “I became even happier.”
    He seemed so sincere, Jo thought, as she and
Brenda exchanged meaningful glances. And so full of life.
    After their rest they got back to the serious
business of sightseeing. Jo knew she and Brenda looked like
tourists, but as the morning wore on she was having so much fun she
didn’t care what the locals thought of them as they helped Danny
set up his equipment and photograph everything they saw—crooked
little side streets snaking up the hill, flower-laden window boxes,
cats dozing in the sun, children running back to school after
lunch, and everywhere the magnificent views against a dark blue
sky.
    They wandered through the ruins of an
eleventh-century Moorish castle and Danny told them about the
running of the bull each year during Holy Week.
    “It’s only one bull, and they tie ropes to
each horn so it doesn’t do too much damage. But people can run
through the streets alongside and pretend they’re in Pamplona,” he
said with a laugh.
    “Did you run with it?” asked Jo, running her
gaze up and down the length of his lithe body. She saw that Brenda
was doing the same thing.
    “Once. When I was young.”
    Both women broke into laughter at the idea
that he considered himself anything but young. He was growing more
delightful with every passing hour.
    They spent quite a lot of time photographing
the town’s fifteenth-century magic circle, made of twelve
red and twelve white stones, and then it was time to eat.
    For lunch, Danny chose a pretty restaurant
overlooking the hills below. They sat outside under an arbor of
ripening grapes and enjoyed plates of tapas and cool, white wine.
Jo particularly liked the little croquettes filled with thickened
Béchamel sauce and chopped ham, but then everything in Spain tasted
so good compared to what she’d been eating at home over the last
month. Never much of a cook, she’d survived on reheated pre-packed
dinners and her mother’s half-hearted attempts at recreating family
favorites.
    Fortified by the food and made merry by the
wine, Jo gazed over the beautiful views and, for the first time,
thought about Luc without feeling any pain.
    There’s still a chance he wants me. There’s
still a chance he’ll get my letter and respond. But even if he
doesn’t, life will go on. And it will be good.
    With this realization in mind, she looked at
Danny, who said, “Forgive me for being so bold, but you look very
happy right now. I think you like Andalusia?”
    “I love Andalusia!” And turning her smile to
Brenda she said, “Thanks so much for this. I won’t forget what
you’ve done for me.” She reached across the table and gave her
friend’s hand a little squeeze.
    Brenda beamed back at her. “You’re worth it,
sweetie.”
    Jo watched Danny jump to his feet and pull
out their chairs as she and Brenda got up. She wondered what he
made of the little exchange he’d just witnessed. But he said only,
“As you know, Arcos is the biggest of the Hill towns. I’m so glad
you like it. But tomorrow we will go to Zahara and Grazalema which,
in my opinion, are even more beautiful.”
    “And maybe we’ll find some more virgins,”
Brenda said with a chuckle.
    “Is the road just as bad?” Jo asked with a
frown.
    He laughed. “Worse, I’m afraid. But perhaps
you can sit in the front with me again?” He slid a look at Brenda,
who gave him an indulgent smile.
    “Sure thing.”
    “And I assure you the unpleasant ride with be
worth it.”
    After their meal they strolled through the
deserted streets of the little town, knowing that only