Chapter 18
On the way to the rodeo, they were all in high spirits again. Zoe had decided not to come, she said she felt up to it, and she looked fine, but she wanted to marshal her strength, and she thought the rodeo would be too taxing. She had stayed home with Hartley's latest book, which he'd given her, and she wanted to call Sam, and talk to the baby.
Tanya and Mary Stuart were going to the rodeo, and Hartley had come with them. He was wearing a new cowboy hat he'd bought in town that afternoon, and he had bought one for Mary Stuart. Tanya said they looked like fancy Texas ranchers. The hats had been steamed and shaped for them, the crown had been raised on hers, the brims trimmed on both of them. They were the real thing, and they made a handsome couple. Funnily enough, they had both worn navy blue, it was something Hartley said couples sometimes did unconsciously when they were particularly in tune with each other. But it warmed Tanya's heart to see them.
“You two are so cute,” she said, sitting on the couch on her bus, swinging one leg over the other. She was anxious to see Gordon. Hartley was aware of that situation too, but he was extremely discreet, and Tanya knew he would keep their secret. But like Gordon, he was worried about her safety.
“Shouldn't you have security with you?” he asked sensibly, and Mary Stuart nodded. She thought the rodeo was dangerous for her too. But Tanya insisted that it wasn't.
“I would in L.A. normally, at something like this, but the people are so decent here. They're not going to hurt me. The worst they're going to do is ask me to sign a bunch of autographs and that's not so bad. It seems so showy to take a bunch of security guys with me to a small town rodeo. It looks so Hollywood, I'd be embarrassed to do it.”
“But maybe it's smarter,” he persisted. “At least be careful,” he warned, and she smiled at him. She loved the fact that he was so good to Mary Stuart. She had never really liked Bill Walker. She always thought he was too hard on Mary Stuart, and expected so much from her. In Tanya's opinion, he had completely taken her for granted. He had the perfect house, the perfect wife, the perfect children, and he expected it that way. She wondered how much he'd ever really appreciated it, how often he'd thanked her, if ever. But she was sure that he was going to be stunned now when Mary Stuart told him it was over. Even his faxes to her made Tanya mad. They were so cold and so aloof, and so unfriendly. Hartley was entirely opposite from Bill, he was warm and kind and solicitous, and concerned about everyone around him. She really thought he was perfect for Mary Stuart, and they looked fabulous together. They even looked a little bit alike, except that his hair was gray and he was ten years older. And he made Tanya promise that she'd be careful that night, and ask for help from the police if she had the smallest problem.
“Just stay close to us, and don't go wandering off,” Mary Stuart warned, sounding as though she were talking to Alyssa.
“Yes, Mom,” Tanya teased, but she was so excited she could hardly sit down when they got there. The bus pulled into the parking lot, bumping over ruts, and narrowly avoiding kids on horses.
But as soon as Tanya got off the bus, they were waiting for her, not just fans, but the same man and the officials who had approached her on Wednesday. They wanted her to sing the anthem just one more time, just the way she had, just the way God meant it to be sung, they said. They were so hokey that somehow they touched her. She signed half a dozen autographs while talking to them, and Hartley and Mary Stuart were looking concerned, but they both knew that this was what her life was. And she hated to let her fans down. In the end, she agreed to sing again. They had the same palomino for her, and this time she asked if she could sing another song either before or after. They suggested she do it right after the anthem, and she wanted to sing “God Bless America.” It was what the rodeo always made her think of.
“What about one of your own songs, Miss Thomas?” the grand marshal asked hopefully, but she said she wouldn't. She didn't want to sing her stuff with a high school band, without a rehearsal, and besides, this wasn't the place for it. It was “God Bless America” or nothing, and they took it.
She went to find her seat with Mary Stuart and Hartley, and she looked at the livestock pens, but she didn't see Gordon. And a few minutes later they came for her again. People were looking at her, and she knew they had recognized her, but other than a few kids, no one had dared approach her. And she went off to do her bit for them, wearing blue jeans and a red shirt, and Mary Stuart had lent her her new red cowboy boots that looked terrific. They still wore the same shoe size. She was wearing her hair loose again, and a red bandanna around her neck, and a number of heads turned as she walked by them. Just watching her you knew she was someone special.
“She's an amazing girl,” Hartley said admiringly, as she strode away, and he watched her make her way through the crowd, looking poised and gracious. She had a wonderful way about her that was both good manners and kindness. There was nothing of the prima donna about her. “I worry about her safety though. There's something about the mentality of music fans that always unnerves me. All I ever have to do is sign a book or two, but people in her shoes bring out all the crazies.”
“I always worry about her too,” Mary Stuart admitted, keeping her eyes glued on her. She knew she was on the far side of the ring now, and several riders were exercising their horses.
And then he asked her an odd question. “You don't think it's serious, do you, between her and the wrangler?” He glanced around to make sure no one had heard them. But there was no one in the seats near them whom they knew, and no one from the ranch sitting behind them.
“I don't know. Why?” Mary Stuart was worried that he knew something she didn't.
“It just seems like an odd combination. She's so sophisticated, and he's from another world. Her life must be very complicated. I think it would take someone pretty unusual to withstand that.”
“That's true,” she agreed, but he reminded her so much of Bobby Joe, an older, wiser version. And she was sure that, even if only unconsciously, Tanya sensed that. “But he's a lot like her first husband. And she's not as sophisticated as she looks. In some ways, Tanya is part of all this. The rest of her life just kind of happened. In her heart of hearts, she's just a kid from Texas. Who knows? It might work.” Who knew about anything? It was all blind luck. And maybe nothing would ever come of it, but she really hoped for Tanya's sake that it worked out with Gordon. And just as Mary Stuart thought of him, she saw him. He had climbed up on the railing above the bullpens, and was watching Tanya get on her horse and say something to the grand marshal.
And as he sat there watching her, he couldn't believe his good fortune. This couldn't be happening to him, he told himself, it didn't work like this. People like Tanya Thomas just didn't get on a horse and ride off into the sunset with you. He kept trying to remind himself that it was probably just a game for her, a fun part of her vacation, and yet he knew from talking to her that she was genuine and sincere, and he believed everything she told him. They had kissed and talked and pawed each other outside her cabin until three o'clock that morning. And now he sat looking at her prancing around the ring on the palomino they'd loaned her, and the crowd fell instantly quiet. There were a few screams, and he could hear some of the fans shout her name, but as she looked at them, and moved around the ring, they fell silent. She had an amazing power and charisma.
And then she sang for them, the anthem as she'd promised them, and then slowly she began to sing “God Bless America,” until people literally cried as they heard her. She had a powerful voice that floated up to the skies and enveloped all of them, and even Gordon wiped his eyes when she was finished. She smiled broadly at them all then, and waved at them as she made the horse dance, and then she galloped out of the ring with a good Texas yell and the crowd went crazy. If they could have followed her, they would have all run out of the ring and grabbed her. But she was careful this time. She was off the horse and gone before they knew it. She kissed the grand marshal on the cheek, and thanked him for lettin
g her sing both songs, and then she literally disappeared into the crowd as he started after her. She quickly took off the red shirt and tied it around her waist. Under it, she'd been wearing a white T-shirt. It transformed her instantly, and just as quickly she pulled her hair back, and braided it, and slipped a rubber band on the end, and by the time she got to the bronc pens, she looked completely different, and Gordon was surprised to see her.
“Well, that was a quick change,” he said, admiring her, standing as close to her as he dared, and aching to kiss her.
“That's the whole idea.” She took his cowboy hat off and put it on her head, and it disguised her even further.
“Good move,” he said, and he was glad she was being careful. “That was a knockout,” he said, referring to her singing.
“I've always thought that should be our anthem, instead of the ‘Star Spangled Banner.’ I really like it.”
“I like anything you sing,” he said, still looking a little awestruck. “You could sing ‘Smoky the Bear’ and you'd make me cry, Tanny.”
“That's good to hear,” she said, her eyes caressing him. Then he bought her a beer and they shared it. She stood with one foot up on the pen, drinking his beer, with his rodeo hat on, looking like a real cowgirl.
“Tanny, you knock my socks off,” he whispered, and she laughed at him.
“You do a pretty good job on mine too,” she teased, and they watched the rodeo together for a little while, and then she went back to the others so they wouldn't worry. “Ride safe. Tell the horse that if he hurts you, I'll come back and shoot him.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said, as she put his hat back on him, it would have been the perfect moment to kiss her, but he was afraid to. If there were a photographer around, they'd be all over the papers. He also didn't know if Charlotte Collins was there that night. And the cowboys would have talked for sure. They both knew they were better off keeping their secret.
“I'll try and come back later. Otherwise, come visit,” she whispered before she left. He had promised that afternoon to come to her cabin again, they loved to sit and talk and neck in the moonlight. She had a date with him the next morning. She was going to take her bus into Moose, and he'd pick her up there in his truck, and they'd spend the day together. There were a million places he wanted to show her.
She wished him luck again, and went back to her seat, where Mary Stuart and Hartley had been waiting. They hadn't spotted her in the crowd from the moment she'd left the ring, but when she came back to them, they could see why. She had taken her shirt off and pulled her hair back.
“That was smart,” Mary Stuart praised her and asked where she'd been, although she had a pretty good idea before Tanya told them.
“At the bronc pens,” she said, sounding pure Texas, and Mary Stuart laughed at her.
“I remember when you sounded like that all the time. I used to love it.”
“I been in the big city too long,” she said, pulling out her drawl, and in spite of the change of costume, people around her were starting to point and whisper. Mary Stuart gave her her new dark blue hat to put on, and Tanya hid quietly beneath it, keeping her eyes down.
She watched most of the events with interest, and then Gordon came on. He was riding bareback tonight, which was even harder and more dangerous. Tanya hated all of it, and most of all the breathless feeling of watching him in midair being bounced around by a wild beast that could easily have killed him. Everything was going well until suddenly the horse literally flew into the air, and did a jackknife leap at the gate of the bullpen. He was willing to do almost anything to get rid of his rider, and did, he pounded Gordon against it, and when he eventually fell off, the horse dragged him fifty feet by one hand, but at last the pickup men got him. He was doubled over when he left the ring, and holding his arm. But at the last moment, he turned and waved, and she knew he had done it just for her, so she wouldn't worry. She wanted to run and find him and find out if he was all right, but she didn't want to draw too much attention to herself, so she waited a little while, and watched him from where she was sitting. He had climbed back on the bullpen again, but he seemed to be nursing the arm, and the announcer congratulated him on a real nice ride. He got the second highest score of the evening, but at what price glory.
“You think he's all right?” Tanya leaned over and asked Hartley.
“I think he is, probably. They'd have taken him away or called for the paramedics if he wasn't.” But it shocked all of them to see how many of the cowboys left the ring obviously injured. They limped out, they held their backs, dragged their legs, cradled their arms, their heads were banged, their guts were hurt, and they came back to do it again three days later. The announcer even congratulated one of them for coming back after he'd gotten a “real bad concussion ridin’ the bulls on Wednesday.” As far as Tanya was concerned, it wasn't brave, it was just plain stupid. But this was the world they lived in. Even the five year olds were out in the ring during the intermission chasing raffle tickets and tickets for free days at the county fair tied to the tails of calves and young steers, and Mary Stuart kept complaining to Hartley that they were going to get trampled. But this was how they lived in Wyoming. It was like the running of the bulls in Spain, it made sense to them. But even to Tanya, who had lived in Texas, it all looked dangerous and more than a little crazy.
“This macho shit is going to kill me,” she said to Hartley as they watched one young bull rider nearly get killed when the bull dropped him unexpectedly and then stomped on what must have been his kidneys. They called an ambulance for him, but he still crawled out of the ring, nearly on hands and knees, with some assistance. And the audience cheered him. “This is a lot worse than what I do,” Tanya said, and Hartley and Mary Stuart laughed. And a little while later, she went back to the bronc pens to check on Gordon.
“Are you okay?” she asked with worried eyes when she got there. She had given Mary Stuart back her hat, because she didn't want to get it dirty, or lose it if someone grabbed it from her. That happened to her sometimes. People snatched articles of clothing from her and ran off with them as souvenirs. It was really annoying, and always scared her a little. “How's your arm?” she asked him quickly, and he smiled at her concern. She could see that his hand was swollen, but he had put ice on it and claimed he didn't feel it.
“You're lying, you big fool. If I shook your hand right now, or held it, you'd probably hit me.”
“No, but I might cry a little bit,” he teased, and she laughed at him in spite of herself.
“You people are nuts,” she scolded him. “How's the guy who got stomped by the bull?”
“He's okay. He didn't want to go to the hospital. He's pretty tough. He'll be peeing blood for a week, but he's used to it.”
“If you keep doing this, I'm going to kill you,” she said fiercely. “It's bad for my nerves.”
“You're good for my nerves,” he said, moving closer to her, and she could smell his aftershave mixed with the smell of horses. He noticed a couple of people watching her then, and turned so he would block her from their line of vision. It was Saturday, and there were more people here tonight, and a lot of them were drinking. “I want you to be careful when you leave, Tan. You hear?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, and saluted. She wasn't worried. She liked to think she was invisible, or that she wouldn't be recognized if she didn't want to be and wouldn't make eye contact with them, but he knew better.
“People know you're here, Tan. Tell Hartley to get the cops to help you out. It's Saturday, and a lot of people are drunk out there.”
“I'll be fine,” she reassured him. “I'll see you later.” She touched his cheek then and disappeared, and he watched her for the rest of the rodeo, sitting in the bleachers. He didn't see her leave, because he was talking to some of the other men. They were talking about a cowboy who'd been disqualified from the saddle broncs, and offered a reride but refused it. The politics of cowboys.
Mary Stuart and Hartley made their wa
y out with Tanya between them, and they could see the security nearby, keeping an eye on them, and several of the local police. And there were the usual cluster of fans, waving pens and begging for autographs, and a number of them took pictures of her, but it was all harmless, and Tanya didn't feel threatened. And they were twenty feet from the bus, when two men shoved their way in front of her and there was a flash of cameras, and she noticed a TV videocam just behind them. They were the local newsmen and they wanted to know what had made her sing the anthem, and if she'd been paid, had she ever been to a rodeo before, and was she going to move to Jackson Hole now. She tried to be pleasant with them and still make her way in a forward direction, but they provided a roadblock and she couldn't get to the bus and she couldn't move them, and the security people were so busy pushing back fans that they were helpless to assist them. Hartley tried moving the reporters on, but they provided a wall in front of them, snapping photographs, taking videos and shooting questions at her, and suddenly it was as though they had sent up flares. All the fans in the area realized where she was and what had happened, and she couldn't get past the cameras to safety. Tom had the bus door open for her, but he was instantly shoved aside, and a dozen fans poured into the bus past him, looking for her, grabbing things, trying to see what they could, taking pictures. And the police were suddenly shoving everyone, as Tanya was pulled and her shirt was torn, someone yanked her hair, and a drunk standing next to her tried to kiss her. It was terrifying, but through it all she kept trying to shove her way past the newsmen but they wouldn't let her, and Hartley and Mary Stuart had been separated from her by a seething mass of fans who wanted to tear her limb from limb. They didn't know what they were doing. They just wanted to have her. The police had their bullhorns out by then, and they were warning the crowd to stand back, and shouting at the cameramen who had started it, and by then there were fifty people on the bus and they were tearing down the curtains. And as it was happening, Tanya realized she was really in trouble. She couldn't get away from them, and they were pushing her, grabbing her, clawing her. There was no getting away from them, and in the midst of it all she felt a powerful arm around her waist, and felt herself lifted off the ground as she saw a hand punch someone, but she didn't know who it belonged to. She was being dragged along the ground, and then lifted into the air, and half carried, half dragged toward a truck. She thought she was being successfully kidnapped, and then she saw that it was Gordon. He had lost his hat, and his shirt was torn too, but he had a look in his eyes that said he was going to kill someone if they touched her. He was the only thing standing between her and real destruction. The police were far behind them.
The Ranch Page 33