The Ranch

by Danielle Steel

  “No, it's not. Maybe no one else can put up with us, the hours, the pressures. Our interests are pretty narrow.”

  “So what about this guy, this local tenant’ or whatever you said he was? Is he cute?” Tanya asked her.

  “Oh, come on,” Zoe blushed, and Tanya saw it. “He's just a doctor.”

  “Bullshit! You're blushing!” Mary Stuart was laughing at both of them and Zoe was squirming in her seat under Tanya's interrogation. “Aha! He must be cute, and he's not married. What does he look like?”

  “A teddy bear. He's big and burly with brown hair and brown eyes. Satisfied? Okay? I've had dinner with him once, and I won't date him and he knows it. Okay?” Zoe gave it right back to her old buddy, but Tanya was not ready to drop the subject.

  “Why not? Is he straight? I mean, in San Francisco, he could be…” She looked apologetic and Zoe groaned.

  “You're hopeless. He's straight, he looks okay, he's single, and I'm not interested. End of subject.” She was very firm with Tanya, to whom it meant nothing. Tanya had decided that Zoe liked him despite her protestations.

  “Why not? Why aren't you interested? Does he have some awful flaw? Bad breath, bad manners, a prison record, something we should know about and hold against him, or are you just being difficult?” Zoe had always been incredibly picky about who she dated.

  “I don't have time for anyone. I work all the time, and I have a daughter.”

  “That's a terrible attitude,” Tanya scolded her. “This is not a dress rehearsal,’ “she quoted her favorite poster. “You can't live alone for the rest of your life, Zoe. It's unhealthy.”

  “I don't believe this. I'm a middle-aged woman and I can do anything I want. I'm too old to date. Besides, I don't want to.”

  “Well, thanks for warning me,” Tanya said, pushing away her plate. She had eaten everything, even the eggs. “You're a year older than I am, which means I have a year before it's all over. And if you tell anyone I'm that old, by the way, I'll kill you.”

  “Don't worry,” Zoe said, grinning at her, “they'd never believe me.”

  “They might, but I'll just say you're a compulsive liar. Now, what's this guy's name, he sounds terrific.”

  “Sam. And you're a nutcase.”

  “Tell the tabloids. I like him. He sounds great.”

  “You don't know anything about him,” Zoe said firmly, trying to feel calm about it. She wasn't sure why, but Tanya had unnerved her. She had always had the ability to do that.

  “I know that you're scared to death of him, which means it must be a serious relationship. If he were a jerk, you wouldn't care. I think you know he'd be perfect for you. How long have you known him?”

  “Since medical school. We went to Stanford together.” Zoe couldn't believe she was answering her questions, and Mary Stuart was smiling at both of them, and putting on lipstick. It was just like the old days. They used to have discussions like that over breakfast in Berkeley. Tanya had been so in love with Bobby Joe she thought the whole world should be in love, engaged, or getting married. She hadn't changed much.

  “You've known him since medical school? Why haven't you done anything about him till now?” Tanya looked outraged.

  “Because we've both been involved with other people, other lives. I lost track of him for a while, now he's doing some work for me. He's a nice guy, but that's it. Now, are we going to ride horses or are we going to talk about Sam all day?”

  “I think you should go out with him and give the guy a chance,” Tanya grumbled as she got to her feet. She hadn't had this much fun in years, and neither had the others. “I vote for Sam. Let's all discuss this again later.”

  “I'll be sure to do that,” Zoe said, rolling her eyes, and Mary Stuart shepherded them all to the corral. They were the last to get there, and when they arrived, Tanya's appearance once again made a huge sensation. There were whispers, people staring at her, kids shoving each other and pointing fingers. A couple of people snuck photographs, but she turned away from them artfully and quickly. She didn't mind posing for photographs with fans from time to time, but she didn't want the intrusion on her private life, and she was definitely “off duty.” The Star Is Out, she whispered to Zoe. But both of her friends were good at blocking people's view of her, and the three-some huddled discreetly in a remote corner, while the woman in charge of the stables called out names, to match people with horses. The night before they had all filled out forms, absolving the ranch of liability, and explaining the extent of their ability and experience with horses. Tanya had written down Advanced/Hate them/Will ride only intermediate level with friends. Both Mary Stuart and Zoe were only fair riders. Mary Stuart had more experience, but she hadn't ridden in years, and she had only ridden English. Zoe had ridden several times, but not recently, and none of them was anxious to prove anything. They just wanted to go on easy trail rides. And the ranch had already explained that there were too many guests at the moment to send them out without other guests, but Tanya said she didn't mind that. If it got too difficult because they hounded her or took constant photographs, or she didn't like the people they chose, she could always opt to stop riding. But she was willing to try it for the moment.

  As it turned out, their names were among the last to be called, and there were only three other guests left beside them. The head of the corral came over and talked to Tanya personally, as a tall wrangler with dark hair led her horse out.

  “We wanted to let the crowd thin a little bit to give you some air,” Liz Thompson explained to her. She was a tall, lanky woman with a weathered face and a powerful handshake, somewhere in her mid-fifties. “I didn't think you needed to have fifty people taking photographs while you got your feet in the stirrups,” she said sensibly, and Tanya thanked her. “I noticed on your card you're not a horse lover,” she smiled, “I think we have a nice old guy for you here.” For a minute, Tanya wondered if she meant the horse or the wrangler, but it was obvious from the man adjusting the saddle for her that it was not the cowboy. He looked about forty years old, and he had a powerful build and broad shoulders. But when he looked at her, she saw that he had an interesting, weathered face, and he was eyeing her with interest. If you looked at him for a while, he was almost good-looking. His cheekbones were a little too broad, his chin too prominent, and yet it all fit together right, and he had a drawl similar to her own, and when she asked, he said he was from Texas. But they were from opposite ends of the state, and he didn't seem inclined to pursue the matter further. Most people tried to find some common ground with her. He was only interested in saddling up her horse, adjusting the stirrups for her, tightening the girth for her again, and getting the others mounted. And as soon as she settled on Big Max, as her horse was called, he left her. The only way she knew the cowboy's name, since he hadn't introduced himself, was when she heard one of the other wranglers call him. His name was Gordon.

  Zoe's horse was a paint mare, and she looked spirited, but Liz had promised she was friendly, and Zoe looked surprisingly comfortable in the saddle. And Mary Stuart was riding a palomino. Big Max was a tall black horse with a long mane and tail, and as he shied a little in the corral, Tanya wondered if he was as sleepy as Liz had promised. She had no intention of battling a wild horse all over these mountains. But Liz explained as she walked by that he'd be fine once he got out, he was corral-shy. The head of the corral was being very attentive to Tanya. Far more so than Gordon, who was busy with the three other guests he'd been assigned, a middle-aged couple from Chicago who introduced themselves as Dr. Smith and Dr. Wyman, but appeared to be married. They even looked alike, which amused Tanya and she said something to Zoe. And then there was a man alone. He looked to be about fifty-five, and Mary Stuart kept staring at him, she could swear she knew him. He was tall and spare and had a mane of gray hair, and sharp blue eyes that examined the entire group with interest. He was a good-looking man and even Tanya couldn't help noticing he had distinguished features. She could see that he had noticed her too, and h
e smiled when he realized who she was, but he didn't approach her. And he seemed equally interested in the others. And it was only once they were on their way that Mary Stuart sidled up to Tanya on her horse and whispered to her.

  “Do you know who that is?” She had finally figured it out. She'd seen him once before, but here he looked different. But Tanya didn't know him. She glanced again and shook her head in answer. “It's Hartley Bowman.” It took a minute to register and then Tanya nodded with interest, forcing herself not to glance over her shoulder.

  “The writer?” she whispered instead, and Mary Stuart nodded. He currently had two books on the bestseller list, one hard cover and one soft. And he had had a highly respected career. “Is he married?” she asked her friend from New York, and Mary Stuart rolled her eyes at her. She was hopeless.

  “Widowed,” Mary Stuart supplied, she remembered reading that his wife had died of breast cancer a year or two before. It had been in Time magazine or Newsweek. And as a writer, he was extremely respected. He looked interesting too, and Mary Stuart would have liked to talk to him, but she didn't want to be like the people who pestered Tanya.

  Mary Stuart and Tanya rode on side by side for a while, and Zoe had already begun chatting with the two physicians from Chicago. Tanya was right. Doctors always seemed to hang out together. They were both oncologists, and the wife had heard of Zoe's work and her clinic. And they were chatting animatedly as the horses made their way slowly across the valley. There were fields full of blue and yellow flowers all around them, and the snow-capped mountains were looming high above them.

  “It's incredible, isn't it?” Mary Stuart heard a voice next to her and jumped as Tanya rode ahead toward the wrangler. Big Max had tired of moving at a snail's pace, and she had given him his head for a few minutes, which left Mary Stuart alone, but not for long. Hartley Bowman had joined her. “Have you been here before?” he asked casually, as though they were old acquaintances, but the atmosphere at the ranch was very informal.

  “No, I haven't,” she said quietly, “it's lovely.” And she couldn't help glancing at him as he rode along beside her. He was very nice-looking. He had a clean, tweedy look to him. He had lovely hands, she noticed as he held the reins, and a riding style that told her he rode English. She mentioned it to him and he laughed.

  “I always feel a little odd in Western saddles. I ride in Connecticut,” he volunteered, and she nodded. “Are you from the West Coast?” He was intrigued by her, and the group she was traveling with. He had recognized Tanya immediately and wondered how Mary Stuart fitted into the entourage, but he didn't want to ask her.

  “I'm from New York,” she said. “I just came out for two weeks.”

  “So did I,” he said, looking very much at ease with her, as he smiled. “I come every year. My wife and I used to love it. This is the first time I've come back since she died.” Mary Stuart suspected it was hard for him, but he didn't say it. But she imagined that, having been there with someone before, it had to be lonely for him. “A lot of people come here from the East. It's really worth the trip. I come here for the mountains,” he confessed, glancing at them. In truth, they all did, even those who didn't know it. The others thought they came for the horses. “There's something very healing about them. I wasn't going to come again, and I didn't last year, but I found I just couldn't stay away. I needed to be here.” He said it pensively, as though surprised at himself for coming. “I normally prefer the ocean, but there's something magical about Wyoming, and these mountains.” She understood exactly what he meant. Ever since the day before, she had begun to feel it. It was part of why Jackson Hole had become so popular in recent years. It was like being drawn to Mecca.

  “It's funny you should say that,” she confessed to him, feeling surprisingly comfortable with him, considering the fact that they were strangers. But he was so open. “I've felt it too. I felt it yesterday when we arrived. It's as though the mountains are waiting for you here… as though you can tell your troubles to them, and they're waiting to embrace you.” She was afraid it would sound silly to him, but he knew just what she meant as he nodded.

  “It must be difficult for your friend,” he said gently. “I was watching the people in the dining room, they were transformed the moment she arrived, and without even meaning to, they became completely foolish. She doesn't get a moment without people reacting to her, wanting to be with her, taking her picture, trying to be a part of her aura.” It was an interesting analysis, but it was true, and it intrigued Mary Stuart that he saw it so clearly.

  “It must be difficult for anyone who's well-known,” she said, not wanting to tell him that she had recognized him and read his last six books and loved them. She didn't want to appear starstruck. After being close to Tanya for all these years, she knew just how annoying it could be.

  “It has its disadvantages.” And then he looked at Mary Stuart with a smile. He had understood perfectly that she knew him. “But I'm not in those leagues. Few are. There are probably only a handful of people in the world who have to put up with what she does. She seems to be very gracious about it.”

  “She is,” Mary Stuart said staunchly.

  “Do you work with her?” He didn't want to pry, but he wondered if the two women constantly at her side were her assistants.

  “We were college roommates,” Mary Stuart explained with a smile.

  “And you're still friends? How amazing. Now, there's a story,” and then he quickly explained himself before he could alarm her, “for a book, not the tabloids,” he specified, and they both laughed.

  “Thank you. She gets such a rough break all the time. It's so unfair.”

  “You stop being human to them the moment you're a star. You no longer matter, you become human garbage,” he said sadly, and Mary Stuart nodded.

  “She calls it ‘life as an object.’ She says you become a thing, and anything they do to you then is allowed. She's put up with a lot. I don't know how she does it.”

  “She must be strong,” and then he smiled at Mary Stuart, admiring her impeccable good looks. He loved her style, but he wouldn't have dared tell her. “She's fortunate to have good friends.”

  “We're lucky to have her.” Mary Stuart smiled again. “It was really serendipity that we came here. It all kind of happened at the last minute.”

  “How fortunate for the rest of us,” he said. “The three of you certainly improve the landscape.” He glanced from her to Tanya, looking glorious, as she loped easily along beside the wrangler, but Mary Stuart noticed that they weren't talking, just riding. “She's an incredible-looking woman.” He couldn't help but admire her, and Mary Stuart nodded with a smile, completely without envy. “I really enjoy her music. I have all of her CD's,” he admitted, looking slightly embarrassed, and Mary Stuart laughed as she smiled at him.

  “I have all your books.” She blushed as she said it.

  “Do you?” He looked pleased and held a hand out to her and introduced himself, though it was obviously not necessary, just good manners. “Hartley Bowman.”

  “I'm Mary Stuart Walker.” They shook hands across their horses’ necks, and rode on together comfortably. Tanya and the wrangler were far ahead by then, the trio of doctors bringing up the rear, discussing articles and research, and some new research that had been done recently in oncology at Mass General.

  Mary Stuart and Hartley chatted for a while, about books, and New York, the literary scene, other authors, and Europe, when she said her daughter was studying in Paris. They seemed to touch on a wealth of subjects, and they were both surprised when the wrangler turned slowly around and led them back to the corral. It was lunchtime. Hartley and Mary Stuart were still chatting when they dismounted. And she noticed an odd look on Tanya's face when she got off Big Max and handed the reins to the wrangler.

  “Are you okay?” she asked as Tanya walked over to join them, and she introduced her to Hartley.

  “I'm fine. But our wrangler is really strange. He absolutely would not say o
ne word to me. We just rode out, and then back. He acted like I had bubonic plague or something. He hates me.” Mary Stuart laughed at her analysis of the situation. She had never met a man who hated Tanya, certainly not at first meeting.

  “Maybe he's shy,” Mary Stuart volunteered. He looked pleasant enough. He just wasn't very chatty.

  “A lot of them are,” Hartley explained. “The first few days they barely say hello, and by the time you leave, you feel like brothers. They're not used to all this big-city stuff, and they're not as chatty as we are,” he said, and Tanya looked at him with a smile.

  “I thought I'd said something to offend him.” Tanya looked slightly worried.

  “I suspect Liz told him to behave himself with you, not to say too much. It's got to be pretty impressive for these guys to be around a big star like you,” he grinned and looked like a kid then, gray hair and all, “it even makes me tremble a little. I have all your CD's, Miss Thomas, and I love them.”

  “I've read your books, and I like them too.” She smiled at him. It always amazed her when someone important was impressed with her. She never completely understood it. “I like them a lot.” They both looked shy with each other, uncomfortable with their own success to a degree. Each of them were stars in their own right. He seemed much more at ease with Mary Stuart than with Tanya, and then Zoe joined them, saying she'd had a great morning. She'd really enjoyed talking to the two doctors. And Mary Stuart introduced her to Hartley.

  “What's your specialty?” he asked amiably as they wandered back toward their cabins to wash up before lunch.

  “AIDS,” she said simply, “and related problems. I run a clinic in San Francisco.” He nodded. He'd been thinking about doing a book about it, but he'd been dragging his feet about doing the research. It seemed so depressing. But he was obviously fascinated by what she did, and asked her a great many questions. And he seemed sorry to leave them at their cabin, and said he'd see them at lunchtime. He went off on his own, head down, looking pensive, as he walked toward his cabin, and Tanya watched him.