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  "You might as well call me Julie," she said. "Everyone else does."

  He regarded her for a long moment. "No," he said. "I shall call you Juliana."

  She shrugged. He would be leaving soon, she supposed. He'd soon come to understand that steady work and top billing with the Big Apple Circus weren't to be dismissed lightly.

  "You should take that job with the circus," she told him. "It's a good offer."

  "Am I not welcome in Nonna's home?"

  "It's not that, Stephen."

  "I'll stay with you, then, in Nonna's house for a while."

  Julie said nothing. Stephen easily kept up with her, swinging along with a springy step and the ease of an athlete. Julie stole a look at his lean-muscled arms. No flab there or anywhere else. Stephen would be—let's see, he'd be thirty-five. And he had been walking the wire almost all of his life. It was a calling that demanded the most of a performer, physically as well as mentally. No wonder he was in such good shape.

  Stephen said, "I have much to learn about your country. Your language—"

  "You speak excellent English," she said. He spoke with a decidedly British accent.

  "I practiced. Always I knew that I would someday be back with Nonna and my family. When I worked with the Moscow Circus, I insisted that a fellow performer who knows the language well speak to me only in English. I was clever, don't you think?" He gazed earnestly down at her, clearly wanting her approval.

  "Yes, very clever," she said reluctantly. Perhaps she'd been too defensive, too prickly, but she couldn't bear it if Stephen put her family in danger.

  "In the act I will be clever, too. With enough Andrassys we can do the nine-person pyramid again."

  "But that's what the Andrassys were doing when—" Julie stared at him. She was stricken speechless.

  "I know. But the pyramid was so beautiful. A superb show of skill, concentration and teamwork. The nine-person pyramid—yes, we will do it once more." He fairly vibrated with enthusiasm.

  His self-assurance was too much for Julie. Her eyes flashed angrily. "You may want to be the heart of the Andrassys. You may want to be the soul of the Andrassys. But I—I am their conscience!"

  "Juliana—"

  "No!" The word burst from her and she began to sprint back toward the safe haven of Nonna's house.

  She ran past low houses painted in rainbow colors and surrounded by banks of croton and hibiscus. She ran past a streetlight and into the dark beyond, and then into the circle of light from the next streetlight.

  Stephen caught up with her. He grabbed her wrist, but she wrenched it away. She ran on, running easily and lightly. As an athlete in the peak of condition, she could run forever if she had to.

  There was a little park at the end of the cul-de-sac. It was a playground with a few swings and monkey bars for the kids, and there were wide-slatted benches where retired people who lived nearby liked to sit in the sun and watch the children. When she realized that Stephen had more than enough stamina to run as long as she did, Julie stopped and sank onto one of the benches under a streetlight. The swings cast eerie shadows on the fence that separated the park from the houses next to it.

  She was trembling, and she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off a sudden chill. How could she have thought she could outrun either Stephen or his ideas? Stephen was in even better shape than she was, and he had made it clear that her opposition wasn't enough to make him give up his hopes that the Andrassys would once again walk the wire together.

  Stephen sat down beside her. "Juliana, I am sorry if I made you think of something unpleasant. I don't wish to make you unhappy. I only ask you to accept what I want to do. And to listen to Nonna. She wants the Andrassys back on the high wire."

  "I won't have you upsetting my grandmother," she said coldly. "She isn't in the best of health. She's already had one heart attack."

  "I would never hurt Nonna in any way. But I want her to have what she has always wanted and what I want too—the Amazing Andrassys, together again!"

  "The other Andrassys are unavailable. I told you that."

  "I have not talked with them. I don't know how they feel." There was a stubborn glint to his eyes. She stared at him, wondering at this man. He barely knew any of them. What made him think he could change anyone's mind?

  "Stephen," she began, groping for words. What more could she say? Hadn't she made her stand perfectly clear?

  He was so close that she could hardly breathe. He was so close that she smelled the clean, fragrant scent of him, a scent unlike that of any cologne-sprayed American man she knew. Stephen smelled like something fresh and green, like—yes, that was it—like new-mown hay she had seen from a car window on a trip across Kansas when she was a little girl and they traveled by car to all the major cities in the Midwest, following the circus with which they'd been performing. She had rolled down the window and let the hay scent blow into her hair, into her mouth.

  And he was not of her blood, not of Andrassy blood. Her heart speeded up with the realization that she found him attractive in a way that was not familial at all.

  He touched a strand of her fine dark hair and lifted his other hand to press against her cheek. Her whole body leaned toward him, and she couldn't look away.

  His voice was gentle, and he didn't smile. "I think we should go back to Nonna," he said. "I don't like leaving her all alone."

  He stood; she stood. He waited for her to lead the way out of the park on the narrow path, past the swaying swings, past the children's slide. He didn't touch her again, and they walked in silence, each absorbed in private thoughts, all the way back to Nonna's.

  Chapter 2

  "Now here is a new phone number I haven't tried yet," Nonna said with satisfaction. She read from an ad in a magazine, peering down at it through her bifocals. '"New campground franchise. Telephone the campgrounds for reservations.'" The glint in her eye was more than satisfaction. It was something approaching excitement.

  Julie walked in from work at that moment, carrying a full bag of groceries. She suppressed a groan of impatience. A few months ago, she'd bought Nonna a cell phone with big numbers and unlimited minutes so that she could keep in touch with far-flung family members. She'd lived to regret that decision.

  "Am I missing something?" Stephen asked the air. He was standing in Julie's path, a perplexed expression on his face.

  "Umm, not for long," Julie said under her breath. She brushed past him into the kitchen, where she set about noisily opening and closing cupboard doors.

  "Do you know what happened today, Julie?" Nonna called, striving to be heard over the clatter.

  "Probably not," Julie retorted. She peeked around the kitchen door with a grin. No one loved Nonna any more than she did, but her grandmother could be exasperating at times.

  "What happened," Nonna said, "is that I phoned a number that had been changed from an airline reservations number to some place calling itself Wham's Resorts. What kind of place calls itself Wham's Resorts? A nice young man answers, but he never told me what is Wham's Resorts. A bookie, I think it is."

  "What is this all about?" Stephen asked. "What is this calling people? What is a bookie?"

  "Nonna calls toll-free 800 numbers for a hobby," Julie explained. She decided not to explain what a bookie was unless pressed for further details. Instead she went back in the kitchen.

  Nonna smiled up at Stephen. "I get lonely sitting here all day. Calling these numbers gives me a nice polite young person to talk to. Sometimes as far away as India! There's always somebody at the airlines. I have called insurance companies, too, but they're not so much fun. Campgrounds and motels are not bad. But the airlines are the best. When they put me on hold, they play music."

  "You do this every day?"

  "Some days. If it's an airline, I have to call back later and cancel the reservation. That's nice, too."

  Stephen sat down beside Nonna. "I'm glad you like to make long-distance calls. You can help me reach the rest of the family."

/>   Julie reappeared from the kitchen as though summoned like a genie from a bottle.

  "First I will call Paul. Then I will call Michael. Then I will—"

  "Stephen, I told you—"

  "You told me, yes, and now it is up to me to find out for myself what the Andrassys think." His blue eyes had gone steely.

  "Julie, Stephen only wants the Amazing Andrassys back on the high wire." Nonna pinched her lips together and fixed Julie with a glare of her own. When Nonna got her dander up, there was no bucking her authority. Julie preferred things not to get to that point. In deference to Nonna's health, she usually backed down first.

  "Okay," Julie said, turning her back on them. "Okay." She went back in the kitchen as she heard Stephen say, "Oh, so you have everyone's phone number programmed into your phone?"

  Let him call the others and present his ridiculous idea, Julie fumed inwardly. That was the best way for Stephen to find out what he was up against. None of the other Andrassys would be interested in a new act.

  After dinner, while Julie cleaned up the kitchen with Nonna's help, Stephen went into the living room and sat down on the couch. Over the sound of running water from the faucet, Julie heard him talking quietly. She tried to ignore the hushed tones of Stephen's conversation, and when Stephen called Nonna to the phone, she turned on the garbage disposal so she couldn't hear Nonna speak.

  But she couldn't run the garbage disposal forever.

  "Juliana!"

  She turned to find Stephen standing behind her, and he was smiling broadly.

  "Michael is interested. He wants me to call the others."

  Julie felt all the air leave her lungs in one surprising rush. "Michael? I don't believe it."

  "It is true, isn't it, Nonna?"

  Nonna bustled in and beamed up at him. "It is true, Julie. Michael doesn't like his job. There's not enough excitement, he says, in being a catcher for the Flying Cordonis."

  "But Michael always said he'd never walk the wire again." Julie was dismayed.

  "Michael has two children. He has to think of their future as Andrassys."

  "Why would he want their future to be working a high-wire act?"

  Nonna's expression became stern. "Because of his loyalty to family tradition, Julie! That is something you need more of, perhaps!" Nonna bit down on her lips and stumped out of the room, leaving Julie blinking at Stephen.

  "Don't be angry," Stephen said. At the moment, his eyes were filled with compassion for her.

  Julie lifted her hands and let them fall helplessly.

  "Now I will call Uncle Bela," Stephen said. "If you'd like to listen on speakerphone–"

  "I'm going back to the gym for a late practice session with Molly. She has an important meet this weekend." She gripped the kitchen counter for support.

  "As you wish." Stephen turned his back on her and went back to the living room. Julie rushed out the door just as Stephen was saying, "Uncle Bela? This is Stephen. Yes, Stephen Andrassy."

  She could not bear to listen to him as he employed his considerable powers of persuasion. Neither could she stand any more of Nonna's scathing disapproval.

  And she hated to be accused of anything less than total family loyalty. After all, it was her affection for the others that made her feel that subjecting themselves to the danger of the high wire again would be a terrible mistake—a terrible, terrible mistake.

  * * *

  It was after eleven o'clock when Julie crept into the house after a long workout with Molly. She closed the front door quietly and tiptoed down the hall. The guest bedroom where Stephen slept showed a thin line of light beneath the door, indicating that he was still awake.

  Julie hurried to the bathroom and showered quickly, letting the hot water sluice over her tight muscles. She had put in a total of ten working hours today; along with the emotional tug-of-war with Stephen, they had taken their toll. She felt exhausted.

  After slipping into her nightgown and long robe, she padded across the hall to her room, where she shut the door and turned down the bed. She was about to slide between the sheets when she heard Stephen's hesitant tap on her door.

  "Juliana?" No one else had ever spoken her name quite that way. No one else, of course, ever called her Juliana.

  "Just a minute," she called out, rewrapping her robe.

  Stephen stood in the doorway, looking apologetic.

  "I wanted to speak with you about the others," he said. His eyes were solemn.

  "Come in." Julie held the door wide and stood aside. He looked around uncomfortably. She waved a hand at the armchair in the corner.

  Stephen sat and leaned forward. "I talked with Uncle Bela. As you told me, he cannot work the tightrope again because of his injury. But he wished me luck. He said that his daughter has been asking if the Andrassys will ever have an act again."

  Julie sank down on the edge of the bed. "Gabrielle?"

  "Yes, Gabrielle. I spoke to her on the phone tonight, and she's very interested. She was not with you in New Orleans?"

  Julie felt her breath catch in her throat. "No, Gabrielle was only twelve years old at that time. She was enrolled in school here in Venice."

  Gabrielle, little Gabrielle, with her long, skinny brown pigtails, had always been a favorite of Julie's. After the fall, Julie had been so glad that Gabrielle had not yet joined the act, at least officially. Gabrielle, of course, had trained to go on the high wire from earliest childhood. But her parents had wanted her to have as normal a life as possible, and so Gabrielle at twelve had not been in New Orleans. She had been home in Venice with Nonna.

  "So," Stephen said with satisfaction. "I have recruited a new Andrassy."

  "Gabrielle said she would do it? Honestly?"

  "She is a student at Florida State University where she participates in the school's Flying High Circus. Her expertise far outweighs that of her fellow performers, and she is ready for a change."

  "Gabrielle is studying to be a teacher!" She wondered what promises Stephen had made, what lure he had held out in front of impressionable Gabrielle.

  "She will keep up with her courses through correspondence school. Juliana, I have also talked with Paul."

  Paul was the cousin who had married a widow with two boys of her own. Surely Paul, of all people, had not lent encouragement to Stephen's ridiculous idea.

  "What did he say?"

  "He doesn't want to perform in the act again. He is settled on his farm in Georgia and beginning a new career as a land developer. Fortunately, he will support the rest of us."

  "The rest of us? The rest of you, you mean!" Julie jumped up from her spot on the edge of the bed and strode to the dresser in the corner, fumbling in the Kleenex box for a tissue.

  "Juliana, please don't cry! Please!"

  Julie buried her face in her hands. All she could see when she closed her eyes was a pile of bodies, spangled and bright in their matching blue leotards, a pile of bodies lying on the floor of the Superdome.

  "Juliana! This mustn't bring you so much unhappiness! Can't you see that the odds are against such a terrible accident happening again?"

  He rested his hands on her heaving shoulders, and she was barely conscious of his touch. It was hard for her to accept even the slightest kindness from Stephen when she perceived him as the catalyst that had brought all the old pain and grief out of the far region of her mind where she'd hidden those emotions for the last eight years.

  "Juliana?" he said, turning her around.

  "Why don't you go away?" she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Nonna and I were very happy before you came."

  For a moment his face lost its assurance, and the expression in his eyes seemed immeasurably sad.

  "Dear Juliana," he said. "Do you think I have not thought of this? But there is the Hungarian circus tradition to think of also. The Andrassys—and the Martinovics, because I know you do not think of me as an Andrassy—we are circus families. Can we allow the tradition to die while we, great performing artists, ta
ke jobs as clerks and gymnastic instructors and teachers? Would Anton Andrassy approve? I know he would not."

  She could not speak. Stephen was right. If Grandfather Anton had lived, he would have spearheaded a drive to get all the Andrassys back on the high wire immediately after the accident. He would have been ashamed of them for lacking courage.

  "You see?" Stephen said, his eyes plumbing the murky depths of hers. "You see?"

  "I'm afraid," she whispered. "I'm afraid. I love them all so much."

  His arms went around her, strong as steel bands. His body pressed against hers, and there was nothing weak or soft about him. He was solid, real. Alive.

  "You must trust me as you trusted your family on the high wire. That trust is the most important thing of all. Trust me."

  For a moment, lulled by his voice, betrayed by his words, Julie almost succumbed. Then she remembered what had really happened that night. She remembered the secret she had never told anyone.

  She stiffened within the circle of his embrace and twisted away from him.

  "Get out of my room! Get out!"

  "Juliana—"

  "Out!"

  Without a word he wheeled and left. Julie flew to shut the door, then locked it. As she heard the click of his door latch, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes, wishing she had never set them on Stephen Andrassy.

  * * *

  "I thought I'd never get here! The traffic is so terrible out there—I don't think I've ever seen so many Northerners here for the winter season, have you?"

  Julie rose from the booth at her neighborhood Starbucks and exchanged kisses with her cousin Eva. The two of them resembled each other except that Eva's black hair was not long and wavy like Julie's but straight and worn in a chic Dutch-boy bob.

  "Now tell me about Stephen," Eva said after they'd settled back with two hazelnut frappuccinos. "Don't leave anything out. Is he as handsome as his pictures?"

  Julie thought about this. Her feelings on the subject of Stephen Andrassy were so conflicting that she had scarcely had time to think about him personally. At least not since that night in her bedroom.