The Ranch

Chapter 17

On Friday morning, Zoe was still asleep when Tanya tiptoed in to look at her, but she seemed peaceful, she'd eaten well the night before, and Mary Stuart agreed when she came in that Zoe's color was better.

They were just going out to ride, when she got up, and wandered into the living room in her nightgown, and they were pleased to see that they'd been right. She looked a great deal better.

“How do you feel?” Mary Stuart asked solicitously. They were both so worried about her.

“Like a new woman,” Zoe said, almost sorry she told them. She wondered if she shouldn't have said she had AIDS, but the cat was out of the bag now, and it meant a lot to her to have them support her. “I'm sorry I was so much trouble yesterday.” Tanya wanted to tell her how sorry she was that Zoe had pricked her finger the year before, and contracted AIDS, but she didn't.

“Don't be silly.” Their eyes met and held and they each knew what the other was thinking. There was real love there, and compassion and caring. They were the kind of friends that came along once in a lifetime. “We want you to take care of yourself. Stay in bed today, get lots of rest. I'll come back at lunchtime to see if you need anything,” Tanya said as she put an arm around her. She was surprised to realize that under the flannel nightgown, Zoe was incredibly frail, even more so than she looked. There was barely any meat on her.

“Do you want us to stay with you?” Mary Stuart asked generously, and Zoe told her that she didn't.

“I just want you two to have a good time. You both deserve it.’ I They'd all been through rough times in different ways, death, divorce, all the trauma of which life was made and that challenged one's very survival.

“We all deserve a good time,” Mary Stuart said, “so do you.”

“I just want to get back to work,” she said, she was beginning to feel really guilty for being so lazy, and a second week away seemed absolutely sinful. But she knew she needed to recover from the little episode she'd just been through.

“Be a good girl and be lazy.” Tanya wagged a finger at her, and a few minutes later she and Mary Stuart left for breakfast.

Hartley inquired about their friend, and they sat and talked quietly about her over breakfast. They thought she was very brave, and Tanya was grateful that Sam was being so supportive.

“He must be quite a man,” Hartley said admiringly when Mary Stuart told him of Sam's reaction when Zoe told him. They still hadn't said she had AIDS and they didn't plan to. He thought she had cancer.

“She might recover,” he said hopefully, but it was obvious that he thought it was unlikely and so did they. “I knew another couple who did something like that, got married in the face of a terminal prognosis. They were the most remarkable people I ever met, and probably the happiest, and I think she lived a lot longer because of it. He just refused to let her go, she fought valiantly, and I think their love added years to her life. I've never forgotten them. I don't think he ever remarried when she died, he wrote a book about it, about her, and it was the most touching thing I've ever read, I cried from beginning to end, but I can't tell you how I admired him. He loved her more than any man could love a woman.” There were tears in Mary Stuart's eyes as she listened, and she wished that more than anything for Zoe.

Sam called Zoe that afternoon, and they talked for a long time. He wanted her to promise him, seriously, that they'd get married, and she was still accusing him of being crazy.

“You can't propose to me,” she said, touched and flattered and moved to tears by what he was saying, “you don't even know me.”

“I've known you for over twenty-two years, I've worked with you off and on for five. I've probably been in love with you for the last twenty, and if we both were too dumb to see it then that's not my problem. You're so busy taking care of everyone else all the time, Zoe, you don't even see what's happening right next to you. I want to be there for you,” he said, and his voice was warm and gruff and sexy when he said it.

“You already are there for me, Sam,” she said softly, He was amazing.

“I'll be here for you as long as you want me. Besides, we haven't even had our first date yet.”

“I know. You haven't even tasted my lasagne.” There were so many things for them to do, so many things to discover about each other.

“I'm a great cook. What's your favorite kind of food?” He didn't know things like that about her, and he wanted to know them all now. He wanted to spoil her, and be there for her, and take care of her. He wanted to make history, and have her recover. But if she didn't, he'd be there for her too, until the bitter end. He knew now, to his very soul, that it was his destiny, and nothing she could have said to him would dissuade him or change that.

“My favorite kind of food?” She was smiling at his question. She almost didn't remember that she was sick. She felt better today, and she was so happy. It was all about now, about just being there at this very moment, and not worrying about tomorrow. “Actually… I think, takeout. You know, fast food, you stick it in the lab closet and eat three mouthfuls between patients.”

“You're disgusting. No more of that. Nothing but gourmet meals for you. Maybe I should do catering instead of locum tenens.” But he was going to be full-time now, and they both loved the idea. The idea of working with her daily really pleased him. Besides, he could keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't overdo it. “Speaking of which,” he had reminded her, “we need to find a new relief, you can't take calls for me if we're going to be together.” She was already assuming, as he was, that they would be together most of the time. The idea certainly appealed to her, now that he knew her situation, and she had a feeling that the relationship was going to be even better than either of them expected. And for a moment she smiled and thought of Dick Franklin. She could never have done anything like this with him, he would never have been there for her. She was just damn lucky she had known Sam Warner, and she knew it.

“We can cover for each other some of the time,” Sam said practically, “and I'll ask around if anyone knows someone good who could cover for us. There's a guy I did some work for whom I like, and a woman who's done a lot of AIDS work at General. She's young, but she's good. I think you'd like her.”

“Is she pretty?” Zoe asked with concern, and he laughed.

“You've got nothing to worry about, Dr. Phillips.” But he sounded pleased. “I didn't know you were jealous.” This was all so crazy and so wonderful. It was as though it had all come together like magic.

“I'm not, just smart and careful.”

“Fine, I'll put the word out, we're only looking for guys or ugly women to relieve us… Zoe, I love you.” There was something so tender in his voice that it brought tears to her eyes as she listened to him.

“I love you too, Sam,” she said, and he promised to call her later that afternoon, when he was finished working.

“Your patients are stacking up outside, I'd better get back to work before I close your clinic. Get some rest, and I'll call you later.”

“I think I might go to dinner tonight,” she said, looking up at the ceiling as they chatted. She really was feeling a lot better.

“Don't push too hard. Just take it easy, remember. I want to take you out when you get back, so rest up. There's a new restaurant on Clement I want to try.” It all sounded so alive and so real, and so hopeful.

And she said as much to Dr. Kroner that afternoon when he came by. But she didn't have to, he could see it. She was still a little dehydrated, and he wanted her to push fluids more, but she looked like a new woman. He knew that she was aware that she would have times like that, terrible moments, and episodes of illness or despair, and then she would rally. Eventually the bad times would outnumber the good ones, but not necessarily for a long time. She could go on like this for a long time before it got worse, or it could get worse very quickly. No one could predict it, and she knew that better than he did.

“Can your locum tenens guy stay on for a while?” he asked after he had checked her, and sat down to chat in her cabin.

“Actually, yes, he can,” she laughed, thinking of all the things Sam had said since the day before. “He can stay for quite a while. He's agreed to come in full-time.” She was smiling as she said it.

“That's terrific,” he said, looking pleased for her, and a little surprised that she looked so happy. The episode of the day before seemed to have left her almost ecstatic. It was an unusual reaction for someone who was potentially as sick as she was. “But how much of the work do you think you'll be willing to let him take on? You have to agree to give some of it up, Dr. Phillips,” he said, and she nodded, but she couldn't stop smiling.

“Actually, I think he'll be taking on quite a lot.” She paused as she looked at him. “He wants to get married,” she said, feeling like a kid again, and not even a sick one. She wasn't even sure if they would, but the fact that he wanted to touched her deeply. Knowing that he wanted to be there for her meant everything, with or without a wedding. The wedding was only frosting on the cake, the important thing was that he'd be there for her, in sickness and in health, for better or worse. That was all that mattered.

Dr. Kroner congratulated her, and he looked pleased for her. Things certainly seemed to be working out well for her, and that was important. She said that she had told her friends about her illness too, and it had been very emotional for all of them, but she felt great support from all the people who really mattered to her.

“You know how much that means,” he reminded her. It was important not to make oneself vulnerable by telling the wrong people about the disease, those who couldn't handle it, and would shrink from patients in horror. But most people had a small core group who could make a difference, and now she had one.

They talked about her plans for a while, and her work, and her clinic, and Sam, and Jade, and the things she wanted to do when she got home. He reminded her not to overdo it, and she promised she wouldn't, but he said he didn't believe her.

“You're probably right,” she laughed. She couldn't wait to get back and see her patients, but she was having fun in Wyoming too, and she thought it was doing her good. Like the others, she had felt the same pull here. There was something almost mystical about the mountains.

And then he asked her something that surprised her. He said he wanted a favor from her, and she couldn't imagine what it was. But she was deeply touched when he asked if she would visit some of his patients. She was so knowledgeable and she had so much experience, it would be invaluable to him if she would see them. He only had about half a dozen, but he read everything he could, and had a huge library on AIDS-related research. He had copies of all her articles, he said. But having her actually consult with him would be the greatest help he could think of.

“Not until you're feeling stronger of course… maybe in a few days…” He looked up at her with hopeful eyes, and she told him she'd be happy to do it. In fact, she was honored,

“What kind of visiting services do you have?” she asked with interest.

“Not bad,” he said modestly, grateful for her interest. “We have a wonderful hospice group, and some terrific nurses. I see everyone I can. I go out to them, I try to rally their friends and families to help them. We're trying to organize some kind of a small central kitchen run by some friends, a little bit like Project Open Hand in San Francisco, on a smaller scale. I hope we never need to service that many people. For the moment, fortunately, we don't have that many cases. But with the influx of people from urban areas, people in the entertainment business, writers, people who just want to escape, I think that, conceivably, we could wind up with a lot more people coming here who have AIDS, possibly even in late stages, and in need of treatment. I'd appreciate all the input from you I can get,” he said, and she nodded soberly. She promised to send him some additional books too, volumes that had been useful to her, and even some of the articles Sam had recommended to her. They started discussing alternative medications then, and by the end of the afternoon they discovered they'd been talking shop for nearly two hours. She was tired by then, and he suggested she take a nap before she tackled dinner. She wanted to go to the dining room, to watch the two-step lesson they were having afterward. It sounded like fun and she knew the others were going. And she wanted to go with them.

“I'll come and see you at the hospital in a few days, or maybe you want me to do house calls with you. See what works best for you,” Zoe said helpfully, “I'm open to anything, just leave me a message.” They were doctor and student now, more than doctor and patient, but he knew that she was well aware, better even than he, of what she needed. She thanked him again for his help the day before, and when he left, she lay down again and fell asleep. She was sleeping soundly when the others came back from riding. It had been a pleasant afternoon for them. They had paired off as they often did now, Hartley rode with Mary Stuart, and Tanya rode on ahead with Gordon. And she was happy to hear he was coming to the dancing lesson in the main living room that night. It was one of the rare occasions when the wranglers were not only allowed to mingle, but asked to. And Gordon was particularly popular because everyone said he was such a good dancer.

Zoe woke up in time to get dressed, and chatted with her friends. With Zoe feeling so much better again, in spite of what they now knew of her disease, they were all in surprisingly high spirits. But their romances had them all laughing and talking and giggling. And once again it reminded all of them of the old days in Berkeley.

“God, it's like being kids again, isn't it?” Tanya said, still amazed at what was happening to each of them. “Do you suppose it's the water here?” She hadn't had as much to say to anyone in years as she seemed to with Gordon, and Mary Stuart and Hartley looked as though they had always been together. They were amazingly comfortable and completely at ease, and they seemed to have identical, or at least compatible, views on almost every subject.

“I've never known anyone like him,” she said. It made her think of living with Bill, even before Todd died. There had always been a considerable divergence of opinion between them, but she'd thought it was interesting, and even at the best of times, there had been a fair amount of amicable conflict. She used to think it gave texture to things, and it shed new light on a variety of situations. But in Hartley's case, everything was so much smoother. Now she saw what it was like being with someone who had the same ideas about things, shared the same views, it was like dancing with Astaire and being Ginger Rogers. She and Bill were no longer even in the same ballroom.

She was halfway out the door that night, in bright red jeans, a matching sweater, and lipstick exactly the same color and her dark hair pulled back, when the phone rang. The others had just gone on ahead, and she had stayed to look for the bright red cowboy boots she'd bought at Billy Martin's. She had just pulled them on and run out the door when the phone rang. And she was tempted not to answer. But it didn't seem fair to the others, it could have been a call from Zoe's child or one of her patients, or something warning Tanya of danger, or a potential problem. She hurried back into the room, carrying her red cashmere shawl, and picked up the phone, sounding breathless.

“Hello?”

“Is Mrs. Walker there.?” She didn't recognize the voice at first. It was a man and she couldn't imagine who was calling.

“This is she. Who is this?” she said formally, and then was startled by the answer.

“Mary Stuart? It didn't sound like you.” It was Bill, and it only underlined how remote they had become. Neither of them had recognized the other. But she hadn't spoken to him in days. Most of the time now, they exchanged brief and extremely uninteresting faxes.

“It didn't sound like you either. I was just running out to dinner.”

“Sorry if this is a bad time,” he said drily. It was three o'clock in the morning for him. And she couldn't imagine why he was calling.

“Is Alyssa all right?” Her heart skipped a beat as she asked him. It was the only reason she could think of now for him calling.

“She's fine,” he said calmly. “I spoke to her yesterday, they're having a ball in Vienna. They had just arrived from Salzburg. They're all over the place, but it's fun for them. I don't suppose we'll see her now all summer.” Mary Stuart smiled at the description of what she was doing. It sounded just like her.

“If you talk to her again, tell her I love her. She hasn't called me. I think the time difference probably makes it too difficult. But I figured she was okay, or she'd have called you. It's late for you. What are you doing up at this hour?” They were like business associates exchanging news, there was nothing personal between them.

“I was working late, and I was stupid enough to drink coffee this afternoon, so here I am, awake at this ungodly hour, so I figured I'd call you. The time difference never really works for me either.” Neither does our marriage, she wanted to add, but she didn't.

“It's nice of you to call,” she said, but sounded unconvincing. She didn't even want to try anymore. She didn't want to warm up to him. She had made her decision. She wanted out now. And it had nothing to do with Hartley Bowman. It had everything to do with William Walker.

“What are you doing there? You haven't told me a thing in your faxes. In fact, I don't think I've heard from you in several days, have I?” He didn't even remember. But it didn't matter to Mary Stuart.

“You don't tell me much either,” she said pointedly.

“There's nothing to tell, I'm working. I'm not going to Annabel's or Harry's Bar. I'm sitting on my duff day after day, night after night, getting ready for this case. It's not much fun, but I think we're going to win it. We're very well prepared.”

“That's nice,” she said, looking down at her red leather boots, and thinking of her husband. But as she listened to him, she found all she could think of now was Hartley. And Bill suffered from the comparison. She couldn't imagine having this conversation with Hartley Bowman, or having the year she had just shared with him. She couldn't imagine any of it, or wanting to live through it again, or even continue any longer.

“What about you?” He was pressing her, and she didn't seem to want to talk. He noticed it too, and wondered about it.

“We're riding every day. It's incredibly beautiful here I've never seen anything like it. The Tetons are spectacular, better than Europe.”

“How are your friends?” Why was he so interested suddenly? She couldn't understand it.

“They're fine.” She didn't say a word about Zoe. “In fact, they're waiting for me for dinner.” She didn't tell him about the two-step lesson afterward, or about Zoe's illness. There was nothing she wanted to share with him. It was over.

“I won't hold you then. Give them my best.” She was about to thank him and say good-bye and there was an awkward pause at his end. It was late for him, and she hadn't seen him in weeks now.

“Stu… I miss you.” There was an endless silence after he said it. She didn't want to mislead him now, and she didn't know why he was doing this. After a year of silence and pain, why would he? Maybe he just felt guilty, or was sorry about what they no longer had, just as she was. But she wasn't going to play games with him, and she wasn't going to let him hurt her again. He had hurt her too much already. The doors were closed now. She wondered, from the hour and his tone, if he had been drinking. It wasn't like him, but it was late and he was alone, it was possible. Whatever the reason, she wasn't buying.

“Don't work too hard,” was all she said. A month before, six months before… a year before… she'd have felt like a monster for what she wasn't saying. But now she felt nothing at all as she said good-bye and hung up the phone, and hurried out the door to meet the others for dinner.

The two-step lesson that night was even more fun than anticipated. All the guests came, and Zoe sat wrapped in a blue cashmere shawl, she was wearing a soft chamois dress and beautiful turquoise earrings, and she looked lovely as she sat there. Some of the other guests had worn skirts that swirled as they danced. Tanya looked spectacular as usual in a white lace antique Victorian dress that managed to make her look both innocent and sexy. And Gordon looked totally overwhelmed by her when he saw her. He was wearing jeans and a clean cowboy shirt, a black Stetson and black boots. Tanya told him when they met that he looked like a cowboy in a movie. And Charlotte Collins asked that Gordon do the demonstration. He had apparently won several prizes for his two-step.

“Not just for riding bulls and saddle broncs, although he won't tell you that,” she teased. She was a wise and canny old woman. And she was keeping a motherly eye on Zoe, who was content to sit on the couch. She was not yet feeling up to dancing, but she was having a good time chatting with John Kroner, who had come for dinner and the evening. Charlotte invited him frequently, and he had come tonight just for the pleasure of seeing Zoe and to get a chance to talk to his hero.

“Has anyone here ever done the two-step before?” Charlotte asked, as Gordon came forward and several return guests raised their hands awkwardly, and Tanya couldn't help laughing.

“Not since I was about fourteen, Miss Charlotte.”

“That's right,” Charlotte smiled warmly at her, “we have a girl from Texas. Will you give it a whirl?” she asked, as though Tanya would be doing her a favor, and the guests instantly applauded. If they couldn't hear her sing, at least they could watch her do the two-step.

“I'm afraid I'll disgrace myself,” she laughed, “and you,” she said to Gordon as he approached her. But the temptation to dance with him was too great, the lure of him too strong, and she slipped her hand gently in his and headed for the middle of the floor as they turned on the music, and Charlotte explained to everyone how you did it. Gordon went through the motions with her slowly first, and then with the next song, he spun her around, walked her forward and back and twirled her, and everyone clapped, they looked fantastic together. It looked like a professional demonstration, and Gordon looked as though he were going to die of joy as Tanya twirled lithely around him and he took her in his arms as the song concluded.

“You Texas turkey,” he whispered to her with a broad smile, “you're better than I am. Don't tell me you haven't done that in a while.”

“I haven't,” she whispered back, but she'd had a great time. And they danced again, as the other couples joined them, and everyone tried and most of them stumbled. She and Gordon danced four more times, and then he changed partners and showed several others how to do it. But at the very end, he came back to her, and they did it one last time. Everyone had had a great time, and people were admiring her, but they left her alone now. They hardly even whispered when they saw her. She was a familiar sight here, and she was very comfortable on the ranch, and even more so with Gordon.

When the music was over, he stood around, and several other wranglers were talking to the guests as well. After five days together, they were all good friends, and a relationship had developed among them, though none quite as intense as Tanya and Gordon's. But much to their relief, absolutely no one seemed to suspect what had happened.

“I had a great time,” he smiled down at her, and she looked up at him with eyes full of excitement and laughter.

“Me too. You're a good dancer, Mr. Washbaugh.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” He stretched out his drawl and bowed to her and they laughed as Charlotte Collins joined them.

“You two should enter the contest at the state fair,” she said with a broad smile. “It sure is pretty when it's done right.”

“I'm afraid I'm pretty rusty,” Tanya said modestly. But she and Bobby Joe had entered all those contests and won them.

“Is everything all right?” Charlotte asked. She had been very concerned about Zoe. John Kroner hadn't told her what it was, but he said her condition was serious, and it concerned her. “Dr. Phillips is looking a little brighter.” But she was still pale, and in spite of her animated look, she seemed very fragile.

“She's feeling a lot better tonight,” Tanya said, looking relieved but still somewhat worried. When she took a little distance from her, she noticed again how pale and thin Zoe was. It was hard not to, but when you were talking to her, she was so alive and so intense that you forgot it.

“I see you're going back to the rodeo tomorrow,” Charlotte said with a smile. Tanya and the others had just ordered tickets before they went to dinner.

“Are you going to sing again tomorrow night? You were the talk of the town after Wednesday.”

“I'd like to,” Tanya smiled generously, tossing her long blond hair over her shoulder, and she saw out of the corner of her eye that Gordon was frowning. “Well see if they ask me, and how the crowd looks.” If she saw a lot of drunks, or it looked rowdier than it had on Wednesday night, then she wouldn't.

“Oh, they'll ask you. It was the high point of the year in Jackson Hole. Maybe the decade. You were nice to do it.” She smiled and then moved on to the other guests, and Gordon was still frowning.

“I don't want you to do that,” he whispered. “I don't like the way people get when you're close like that. If you're up on a stage, with security, they can't hurt you.”

“Yes, they can,” she said honestly, and she knew they might someday. She had worn a bullet-proof vest at a concert in the Philippines once and swore she'd never do that again. She had been shaking from head to foot and ready to throw up through the entire concert. “That's why I rode the horse the other night,” she said matter-of-factly. “I knew I could get the hell out of Dodge if I had to.”

“I don't like you taking chances,” he said, not wanting to be overbearing with her, but genuinely worried.

“I don't like you riding bulls and broncos.” She looked him straight in the eye while she said it. She knew this cowboy life. She came from it. And she knew the price you paid, and its dangers. But she knew her own world too, better than he did.

“Tell you what,” he said honestly, “we ever make a go of it, and I'll give up the bulls and broncs.”

“I'll hold you to it,” she said softly, and then she wanted to be honest with him too, “but I can't give up concerts, Gordon. That's how I make my living.”

“I know that. I wouldn't expect you to. I just don't want you to do some two-bit thing to be nice to them, and get hurt. It's just not worth it. They don't deserve it.”

“I know,” she sighed, looking up at him. It was hard to believe they were having this conversation, negotiating their future, what they would each give up and what they wouldn't. But there was no harm done, if it ever happened. “I just like to sing for the hell of it sometimes, without the promoters and the contracts and the hype and all the bullshit. It's fun to just do it.”

“Then sing for me,” he smiled.

“I'd love that.” There was an old Texas song she would have loved to sing for him. She had sung it as a kid at high school dances, and it had gotten popular since, but she had always thought of it as her song. “I will one day.”

“I'll hold you to that too.” There were a lot of promises floating between them.

They all stood around and talked for a while, and then Mary Stuart and Tanya took Zoe back to the cabin. Gordon had promised to show up later, if he could. He said he would just tap on her bedroom window. She told him which one it was, and then they left, and Hartley walked them back, and then sat outside with Mary Stuart. Tanya and Zoe were inside the cabin chatting.

Mary Stuart told him about the call from Bill before dinner, and he looked at her thoughtfully while she told him,

“He's probably realizing what he's missed, and what he's given up for all these months,” he said, thinking about it, and looking at her. “What are you going to do if he wants to fix it?”

“I can't imagine it,” she said honestly, “but I realized something when I talked to him tonight. I don't want to do that. I can't go back again. We can't undo the last year, or what happened to Todd. I don't think I'll ever forgive him for how he's behaved. That's a nasty thing to say, and it's mean-spirited of me, but to be honest with you, I think he killed it.”

“And if he didn't? If he comes back and tells you how much he loves you and how wrong he was, what then?” He wanted her to think about that before they made a mistake. They were both extremely attracted to each other, but they were being very cautious, and that was just what he wanted. He didn't want to get decimated either.

“I don't know, Hartley. I'm not sure. I think I know. I believe it's all over for me. I suppose there are no guarantees until I see him. I think I'll be sure then.”

“Why are you waiting until September for that?” It was a question she had been asking herself lately too. Originally, she had thought she needed time, and she was glad she'd have the summer in which to think. But ever since she'd been here, she realized that she was ready to tackle it now. It had even occurred to her that she might fly to London to talk to Bill, and she said as much to Hartley.

“I think that's a good idea,” he said gently, “if you feel ready for it. I don't want to push you.” They had known each other for five days, and it had been an extraordinary experience for both of them, but it was possible that it was all a dream, an illusion, or maybe it was real and something very special. Only time would tell. But first, she had to deal with her husband. Neither of them wanted to do anything confusing before she did that. And as tempting as it was to just fall into bed with each other, she knew they wouldn't.

“I'm going to Los Angeles with Tanya when I leave here. I was going to stay a week, but she's busy anyway.” She was thinking out loud and sharing it with him. “I think I'll stay for a few days, and then fly to London. I came here to think, and to decide what I wanted. And I knew the moment I came here. I think I knew before that.” She had known when she left her apartment in New York that she would never live there the same way again. She had been saying good-bye to her old life when she left it, and she knew that, and she said as much to Hartley.

“There's something about these mountains that gives you the answers to many things. I missed coming here after Meg died.” He smiled at Mary Stuart then and took her hand in his. “It would be amazing if I found my new life here, if I came here to find you,” and then he looked at her sadly, “but even if nothing comes of this, if you go back to him, I want you to know how happy you've made me. You've shown me that I'm not as alone as I think I am, that there is someone out there who can make me fall in love again. You're a beautiful gift I never expected, you're a vision of what life can be when two people love each other and are happy.” He was exactly the same for her. He was living proof that there was someone in the world who cared about her, that she could talk to easily, and who could love her. And she didn't want to give that up now. He wasn't asking her to, but he wanted her to be sure of what she wanted to do about her husband before moving toward him. Mary Stuart felt certain she had made her mind up.

“I don't think seeing him is going to change anything,” she said gently, holding Hartley's hand in her own and kissing it. He was so dear to her, she had grown so fond of him in such a short time, and they felt incredibly protective about each other. But they also knew that she needed to prove to herself what she still felt for Bill and what she didn't. And Hartley didn't want to rush her, but she insisted he wasn't.

“It was so strange when he called me tonight. It was like talking to a total stranger. I didn't even recognize him at first, nor him me, and I couldn't figure out why he was calling. It's sad to feel so far away from someone you once loved. I never thought it would happen to us.”

“You weathered one of life's cruelest blows,” he said sympathetically. “Most marriages don't survive it. The statistics are staggering. I think it's something like ninety-seven percent of people who lose children get divorced. You have to be awfully strong to withstand that,” he said kindly.

“And I guess we weren't.”

“I love being with you, Mary Stuart,” he said, smiling at her, and changing the subject. He wanted to move ahead with her, to be in New York with her, to go to Europe with her, to share his friends and his life and his career. There was so much he wanted to do with her, and he was anxious to get started. He had been alone for two years, but he knew he had to wait a little longer. She had to go to London to see her husband. But once she'd gone, if she was sure, the possibilities were limitless, and he knew that. There was nothing else left to hold them back from each other, although he was still a little bit concerned about her daughter. He had never had children of his own, and he wondered if Alyssa would resist him, if she would blame him for the divorce, and choose to hate him out of loyalty to her father. In fact, the divorce wouldn't have been because of him, but it might be hard for her to accept that. He had spoken to Mary Stuart about it that afternoon, and she admitted that she and Alyssa would have to do some very serious talking. But on the other hand, she wasn't willing to stay with her father just for her. Alyssa had to make her own life. And as Mary Stuart saw it, her own life was better than half over, this was her last chance possibly to make a life with a person she could really care about and who loved her. She wasn't going to let the chance pass her by out of loyalty to something she no longer had with a man who could no longer love her. She wanted to be with Hartley. They sat together for a long time, talking about the past, the present, and the future. And it was all agreed. She would go to London the week after they all left Wyoming. She didn't think she'd stay in London for more than a few days, possibly less if Bill didn't want to discuss it further. And she might try to meet up with Alyssa somewhere for a day. She wasn't sure if she would tell her yet, unless Bill thought they should, otherwise she thought telling Alyssa her parents were getting divorced could wait until September. But she just wanted to see her, if Mary Stuart could even find her on her trek around Europe. And then she would go home again, and get her life organized. She had no idea what Bill would want to do with the apartment. If he would want to keep it, or sell it, if he wanted to live in it, or thought she should. But she had already made her mind up about that too. She didn't want to live there. It was all too painful, and a constant reminder of tragedy every time she passed Todd's room. Whether or not his things were there made no difference. She knew he had once lived there, knew exactly where the Princeton banner had been, and the trophies, and the teddy bear on his bed when he was little. His things were put away now, and it was time for them to put their things away too. It was time for a whole new life for all of them, and hopefully, if she was very lucky, and the Fates were kind to her, hers would be with Hartley.

“Would you like to come to Fisher's Island with me when you get back?” he asked cautiously. “I have a funny old house there. I haven't been there much since Margaret died, but I thought I'd spend some time there in August.” She looked at him gratefully then, and nodded. He had his ghosts too, his old haunts, his routines. They both did.

“I'd love that. I didn't really know what to do with myself this year, with Bill away for so long. I was going to go out and see friends in East Hampton.”

“Come and stay with me then,” he said, nuzzling her neck. He wanted nothing more than to wake up next to her, to listen to the ocean and make love to her all afternoon and all night and all morning, and talk into the wee hours, and share his favorite books with her. He had already discovered that she was a passionate reader and they loved almost all the same authors. He had some wonderful first editions he wanted to share with her. He wanted to walk down the beach holding her hand, and tell her all his secrets. But they had already shared most of them, riding through the wildflowers across the foothills and the valleys of Wyoming. It was already wonderful, and it could only get better.

It was late when he finally pulled himself away from her, and they were both satisfied with their plan, that she should go to London after the following week, and then come and spend time with him on Fisher's Island. It was the trip to London that was so important. And as he said good night to her, he asked her one last painful question.

“And if he wins you back?”

“He won't,” she said, kissing him.

“He would be a fool not to,” Hartley whispered, and then kissed her. And if he did, Hartley knew he would have to find the way back without her. “Maybe we should figure out a signal,” he said, “so I'll know if my life is over or just beginning.”

“Stop worrying,” she said, and they kissed again, but he couldn't help it. He wanted her so badly. “I love you,” she said, and meant it to the depths of her soul. She barely knew him, and yet she knew she could spend the rest of her life with him, and never regret it for a moment. He was completely different from Bill, and yet she knew that she could have lived a lifetime with either of them and been perfectly happy. But her time with Bill had come and gone. And her time with Hartley was just beginning.