It would, she knew, take determination to learn to watch Armand in the ring without being terrified. But she would do it. He would expect it. Her new resolve was, she decided, smiling to herself, the one good thing about coming to Mexico. She was learning to be a woman, a strong woman. Astride horses, the picadors made their challenges to the bull. “The junior picador will make the first delivery,” Diego told her. “See how he drives the small, sharp metal point of his lance into the tossing muscle as the bull charges?” “Ahah!” he cried suddenly. “More lancing is required. He is a strong one, this bull.” Valdis clapped his hands, and Amber looked to Diego for an explanation. “As the bull’s breeder, he beams with pride,” he told her matter-of-factly, “for his animal has the strength and bravery to push the picadors around. See? Señor Alezparito has reason to be proud.” Averting her gaze as a horse was grazed, Amber wondered, “But doesn’t that mean the bull is unusually fierce?”
