The summer heat peaked in the month of August. Some of the grassy areas around Carson City, which had been green only weeks ago, were now parched, brown, as the nearby Nevada desert asserted itself. There was a shortage of water for the cattle in the area, and Karen, having a good-sized lake on her property, had received a modest amount of money to let her neighbors' cattle drink there. Since she only had a dozen head of her own, she was happy to share. And her neighbors were delighted that she was so generous, taking little money where someone less honest could have made a fortune.

On this hot, sweaty day, Karen was in Carson City, having come to gather supplies. As she drove the wagon down the main street, she looked over at the casino. She felt a tingling feeling come over her. She knew that she would never forgive herself, being this close to Yolanda, not to follow fate. She stopped the wagon outside the general store and walked over to the casino.

The gaming hall was crowded with a wide variety of people ' from finely dressed professional gamblers to ragged gold prospectors. The smoke of three dozen cigars filled the room. There was the smell of spilt whiskey and beer all around. And there was also the smell of cattle hands, goat herds, and trail riders there, as well.

A woman at the bar, a trail rider by the looks of her clothing, with a dark weathered face which would have been beautiful had it received better care, took a sip of a glass of whiskey, then turned around. She looked over at one of the blackjack dealers across the room. The dealer was attired in a sleeveless, thin-strapped, ankle-length dress. When she caught the dealer's eye, the dealer nodded and waved to a nearby girl to relieve her at the table.

The rider put down her glass of whiskey and walked into the center of the room, where she was met by the dealer. There was a moment when the two women stopped and met each other's eyes. Karen was familiar with the look of pure hatred they exchanged. Then the two women reached out and clasped hands, each placing her right foot to the outside of the other's. The effort was plain on their faces as they began to Indian wrestle.

Karen watched the very even struggle for a few moments, then looked around. Yolanda was at the top of the stairs, watching the spectacle, smiling faintly. Karen started up the stairs. Yolanda saw her and nodded toward one of the men, who blocked the stairs immediately after Karen had passed him.

Yolanda waited for Karen, and the two women watched, as the dealer finally defeated the trail rider.

Yolanda led the way into one of the rooms, an office from the looks of it. There was a couch on one wall and a desk with a large comfortable chair. Two other chairs sat in front of the desk.

In the open center of the room, the Gypsy turned and faced her blonde rival. She took off her blouse and skirt, removing her shoes, all the while keeping her eyes locked on Karen's. She wore no corset, as was the Gypsy custom, but her breasts were covered with black lace.

Karen was doing the same thing as Yolanda, keeping her eyes locked on Yolanda's and remembering when she had learned about this.

They had removed their blouses and faced each other in the grove of trees. Tamara explained what made the next contests so different from the first two. "The third and fourth contests place the women in closer and greater body contact than the first and second. The third contest has the women hold each other around the body with their arms, squeezing the air and strength from each other. The spirits will meet more fully in this contest. You have already determined in the first two contests that you were meant to test each other. Now you let your spirit go against hers. We begin to attend more to the love side of the love-hate relationship."

"All the tests seem to be of the arms and shoulders, Tamara. Don't Romany women test the strength of their legs?"

Tamara smiled. "Romany queens bear the weight of their tribes on their shoulders. They shape and mold what happens with their hands and their arms. Although I have never met a Romany woman who could contend for queen hood who did not have powerful legs, that is not part of the tradition."

The two women closed and wrapped their right arms over the other's left shoulder. The left arm came around, underneath the armpit and each grabbed her right wrist with her left hand. With a grunt, they pulled each other toward them and began to squeeze. Tamara's spirit was so close to Karen's that, within seconds, both were bathed in sweat. For twenty minutes, they held each other in the powerful embrace. Then Tamara let go.

There was a slowness as she and Yolanda slid their right arms over each others' shoulders. The spirits were warming up. The left arms came up and the grips were joined. They began to pull each other closer, then squeezed hard, causing a gasp and a shortness of breath. Each seemed to be trying to lift the other off the ground, though neither succeeded.

Each woman struggled to breathe as they tried to squeeze the life from each other. Within seconds, they were covered in sweat, panting, grunting, locked in their physical and spiritual struggle. Each felt the nearness of the other, an exciting feeling like they had never felt. Breast pressed against breast, and excited them both. The spirits of both women pressed even harder.

Even Yolanda, who had fought this contest to become queen had never had an opponent like Karen before. Karen, he face contorted in agony, remembered her defeat in the last battle between them. She would not quit now, even against a powerful rival like Yolanda.

The tall, strong women locked even tighter, causing the other to cry out in pain, but still neither would quit, neither would submit. Their efforts caused them to move around the room, as though dancing. Then, suddenly, they stopped. They were completely stalemated. Each knew one would win and one would lose, but neither could go on for much longer. Their eyes locked and the love-hate relationship grew. Eyes still locked, each clamped down as hard as she could, causing a scream to come from the other, throwing the last of her reserves into the battle.

Breast ground against breast, belly pressed against belly, sweat-slickened , iron-hard thighs pressed together. Woman against woman, they fought on, knowing that, within the next two minutes, there would be a winner and a loser.

One seemed to rest as the other crushed, causing her victim to cry out in pain. Then, each having the strength for only one more sustained effort, the clamped down together. Grinding their bodies together, each trying to breathe and neither able, they held on for a remarkable one minute. Then Yolanda's arms went limp and she sagged against the blonde, who continued the hold only long enough to ensure that there was no doubt who had outlasted whom.

Karen released her grip on Yolanda and, their support from the other gone, each collapsed to the floor, breathing deeply, neither able to move. They lay with their heads in opposite directions for a long five minutes. When they were able to move, each rolled and rotated on the floor, until they were prone, facing each other, eyes only inches apart, and locked together with a hellish hatred. After a long moment, each rested their arms on their elbow, pressing the backs of their forearms together, and interlacing their fingers. They held each other like this for two or three minutes, then each got up and, wordlessly, got dressed.

Still without a word, Karen opened the door and they walked out together, Karen going down the stair and leaving the casino.