“Since you won't have lunch with me, Cricky”—he smiled—“I guess I'll take mine back to work, too.” The others had come and gone. None of the workers ever lingered at lunchtime. He walked her to the classroom where she and Ushi taught, and then went back to the other hut, to discuss a number of their cases with Mary. “See you later,” he said pleasantly, and then wandered off, looking casual and happy. It was obvious to Christianna that he was trying to make friends, but Ushi didn't think so. She thought he had something a little more personal in mind.

“A lunch date?” Ushi teased her.

“No. I didn't have time. I think he's just lonely without his friends.”

“I think it might be more than that.” Ushi had been watching him for days, and actually found him very attractive herself, but like Christianna and most of the others, she didn't want the complications of a camp romance. And he seemed far more interested in Cricky than in her, she realized. He had made that pretty clear through his friendly overtures to her, and had barely said a word to Ushi.

“I don't have time for more than that, nor the interest,” Christianna said firmly. “Besides, Americans are that way. They're friendly. I'll bet you that in spite of the scheming in the camp, he's not even remotely interested in romance. Just like the rest of us, he's here to work.”

“That doesn't mean you can't have a little fun, too,” Ushi said with a smile. She liked going out with men, but had met no eligible ones for her here. Parker was the first truly attractive candidate who had come along, other than the visiting team every month, although she thought he was too young for her. He was the same age as Max and Samuel, whom she had overlooked romantically for the same reason. She knew from seeing Parker's records in the office that he was thirty-two years old. Ushi was forty-two. Age didn't matter here, and most of the time they hung out as a group. But she had a gut feeling he was interested in Christianna, although there was no serious evidence of it yet, despite his seemingly casual efforts to make friends. She had noticed Parker watching Christianna quietly at dinner, although she seemed oblivious to it. She didn't have romance on her mind, only work, and she had a polite, somewhat reserved, conservative style about her, particularly with men, almost as though she were constantly aware of not exposing herself in any way. She was far more relaxed and outspoken with the women. “I think he has a crush on you,” Ushi finally said openly, and Christianna firmly shook her head.

“Don't be silly,” she brushed off the suggestion, and a moment later they went back to work, but Ushi was convinced her assessment was correct.

She and Fiona chatted about it idly a few days later, as Parker continued to chat with Christianna at every opportunity and had started borrowing books from her, and consulting her about several of the AIDS patients, whom she seemed to have come to know well. He always seemed to have something he needed to ask her about, tell her, lend her, borrow from her. And at her suggestion, he had started handing out pens to everyone he saw. The patients loved him for it, and he became much loved by all within weeks of his arrival, for his gentle ways. He stayed up late at night in the men's tent, poring over the notes he made for his research project. Fiona often saw his portion of the tent lit up when she came home late from deliveries nearby. Often when he heard her, he came out and said hello to her, and they chatted for a few minutes, even at three and four in the morning. And remarkably, he always seemed fresh and good humored the next day.

He often invited Christianna to go on walks with him at the end of their workdays. She saw no harm in doing so, enjoyed his company, and together they discovered new paths and fresh terrain previously undiscovered. They agreed that they both loved Africa, its people, the atmosphere, the excitement of being able to improve conditions for people who were invariably so kind and open to them, and so desperately needed their help.

“I feel as though my life finally has some meaning to it,” she said one day, as they sat on a log before turning back. There was no tree overhead, and she had told him about her experience with Laure when the snake fell out of the tree, some months back. It was nearly April by then, and Laure was getting ready to leave any day. Her correspondence with Antoine had flourished, and she was looking forward to seeing him in Geneva in June. They had already made plans to meet again. “I never felt that way before,” Christianna continued. “I always felt as though I was wasting my time, and never did anything useful for anyone … until that night in Russia … and when I came here.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself,” Parker said generously. “You just finished school, Cricky. No one your age has set fire to the world yet, or cured all its ills. I'm nearly ten years older than you are, and I'm just getting started myself. Helping people is a life's work, and it looks to me like you're off to a hell of a good start here. Is there something like this you can do in Liechtenstein when you go back?” Although they both knew that there were few opportunities in a lifetime like the one they were experiencing here.

She laughed wryly at his question, forgetting for a moment that he didn't know who she was. Talking to Parker was like talking to a brother, though not necessarily her own. “Are you kidding? All I do at home is cut ribbons and go to dinner parties with my father. I was leading a totally stupid life before I came here. It was driving me insane,” she said, sounding frustrated again, just thinking about it.

“What kind of ribbons?” he asked, looking puzzled. “Cutting ribbons” meant nothing to him. The concept of a princess cutting a ribbon to open a hospital or a children's home was inconceivable to him and the farthest thing from his mind. “Is your father in the ribbon business? I thought he was in politics and PR,” and even that explanation had been vague.

Christianna laughed out loud in spite of herself. “I'm sorry … that made no sense. It doesn't matter. I just go on the jobs he sends me on … you know, like an opening ceremony for a shopping mall. Sometimes he sends me in his place when he's too busy. That's the PR part. The political side is more complicated to explain.” She was momentarily horrified that she had almost slipped and spilled the beans.

“It doesn't sound like fun to me,” he said sympathetically. He had felt the same way about joining his father's practice in San Francisco. He much preferred the research project he was working on at Harvard, and now the time he was spending here. Christianna had explained many things to him, and had been very kind about introducing him to life in Senafe, and the others had been equally helpful and hospitable.

“It isn't fun,” she said honestly, looking pensive for a moment, as she thought about her father and the dutiful life she led in Vaduz. She had talked to him the day before. Freddy had finally come back from China a few weeks earlier, in March, as planned, and according to her father, he was already getting restless. He'd been staying at Palace Liechtenstein in Vienna and giving parties there. He said he'd go mad if he had to stay in Vaduz. She suspected, as her father did, that once Freddy inherited the throne, he would probably move the court back to Vienna, where it used to be, for generations before them. It was far more accessible and sophisticated, and he had a lot more fun there. Though once he was the reigning prince, he would have to be far more serious than he had ever been. She was thinking about all of it with a quiet frown, while Parker watched her.

“What were you thinking about just then?” he asked quietly. She had been silent for several minutes.

“I was just thinking about my brother. He's so impossible at times, and he always upsets my father. I love him, but he's just not a responsible person. He got back from China a few weeks ago, and he's already in Vienna, playing and giving parties. We all worry about him in the family. He just refuses to grow up, and for now he doesn't have to. But one day he will, and if he doesn't, it will be just terrible.” She was going to add “for our country,” but she caught herself and didn't.

“I assume that's why so much is expected of you, and why you feel you have to go home and help your father with the business. What if you didn't go home, and stopped enabling your brother? Maybe then he would have to grow up and take some responsibility off you.” It was a sensible solution, and an unfamiliar subject to him. His own brother had been a remarkable student, and was a highly respected physician with a wife and three children. It was hard for him to relate to the tales she told him about her brother.

“You don't know my brother,” she said, smiling sadly. “I'm not sure he'll ever grow up. I was only five when my mother died, he was fifteen, and I think it upset him very badly. I think he runs away from everything he feels. He refuses to be serious or responsible about anything.”

“I was fifteen when my mother died. It was terrible for all three of us, and you could be right. My brother went a little crazy for a while, but he settled down in college. Some people just take a long time to grow up, your brother may be one of those. But I don't see why you have to sacrifice your life for him.”

“I owe it to my father,” she said simply, and he could see that it was a bond and duty she felt strongly about. He admired her for it, and was also surprised she had been able to come here. He asked her about it, and she explained that her father had finally relented, after endless badgering from her, and given her six months to a year with the Red Cross, before coming home to her responsibilities in Vaduz.