"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 letting 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 way 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.

"Come on, Tan, run!" He shouted at her, pulling her along, as the others tried to follow. He had parked his truck as close as he could to the crowd when he saw what was happening, and left the engine running, and her feet pounded as hard as they could on the rough ground, as four marshals on horseback galloped past them. But they had reached Gordon's truck by then, and he pushed her inside, leaped into the driver's seat, and took off, nearly running over half a dozen people and several horses. But he didn't stop for anything. There was literally a riot behind them. He kept his foot on the accelerator until they were a mile away, and then he pulled over and stopped to look at her. They were both shaking.

"Thank you," she said in a trembling voice. She was shaking from head to foot. It had been awful. It had been one of the most dangerous situations she'd been in recently, because the crowd was uncontrolled and she didn't have adequate security to help her. If he hadn't been there, she might have gotten killed, or badly hurt, and they both knew it. "I think you saved my life," she said, trying not to cry as he took a deep breath and looked at her, wanting desperately to protect her.

"Don't tell me saddle broncs are more dangerous than that. Give me some mean son of a bitch horse any day compared to that stuff. What happens to people? Those are perfectly normal folks out for a Saturday night at the rodeo. They take one look at you and they go nuts. What is that?"

"Crowd craze. I don't know. They want to own you, even if they have to tear you apart to do it, even if they come back with just a piece of you, a shirt, a piece of hair, an ear, a finger." Her head hurt, so many people had pulled her hair trying to get a piece of it to save. It was truly an insane business. She was smiling, but neither of them thought it was funny. She had hated leaving Mary Stuart and Hartley to fend for themselves, but she couldn't help them and she knew the police would.

"It was those goddamn photographers," Gordon said, putting an arm around her and pulling her close to him. She had just told him about the pulled hair and he couldn't believe it. "If they'd let you through, you could have gotten on the bus and you'd have been okay. But those assholes put up a roadblock so they could get a story."

"Well, they got one. A lot better one than just asking me if I got paid to do the anthem."

"Shit," he said, shaking his head. He could just see the headline. TANYA T THOMAS CAUSES RIOT IN W WYOMING. He could see now how her life got out of hand so easily. He wondered how she stood it. "Is this worth it to you, Tan?" he asked, looking at her, he honestly wondered why she did it.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "sometimes. It's what I do. I used to say I was going to retire, but I don't want to let them win. Why let them stop me from what I want to do just because they make my life miserable?"

"Yeah, that's true. But maybe you need to rethink this. You got to protect yourself somehow."

"I do. At home I've got security and barbed wire, electric gates, cameras, dogs, all that stuff," she said as though it were normal.

"Sounds like Texas State Prison. I mean something else, some way that people aren't going to rip your hair out of your head every time you go buy yourself an ice cream." He was deeply impressed by what he'd just seen and more sympathetic than she knew. As far as he was concerned, it was inhuman.

"Can you get me to a phone?" she asked then, looking worried. She wanted to call Tom on the bus, and let him know she was all right and hadn't been abducted by a stranger. She'd been kidnapped by a friend, she smiled at him, and told him what she thought when she first felt his arm around her. He had been so powerful she knew she had no hope of resisting.

"Poor kid. All I wanted to do was get you out of there as fast as I could."

"And you did," she said gratefully as he stopped at a 7-Eleven. He watched carefully as she used the phone, to make sure no one had recognized her, and Tom answered on the first ring. Hartley, Mary Stuart, and the police were waiting with him. They knew that if she was okay, she'd call the bus, and Hartley had suspected that it was Gordon who had taken her, but he hadn't wanted to say it. They had said only that she had friends at the rodeo, and they were hoping she had gone with them. Mary Stuart was immensely relieved to hear her.

"Are you all right?" she asked, still shaking herself. It had been a horrible experience even for them, and it reminded all of them of how difficult Tanya's life was.

"P'm fine. I look a mess, but nothing's broken. It just scared me. I'm really sorry, Stu. Is Hartley mad?" It was a miserable experience to go through. When she was single, before she and Tony were married, there were guys who wouldn't go out with her, because they said trying to take her to a movie was like college wrestling.

"Of course not," Mary Stuart said, incensed, "not at you. He's furious at the press for what they did. He said he's going to call the owner of the paper and the local news station tomorrow."

"Tell him not to bother. I'm not even sure they were local. Someone may have tipped off the wire services, or cable TV. I didn't see where they were from. It doesn't make any difference. They won't do anything about it anyway. How bad does the bus look?" Mary Stuart looked around, still upset by what they'd done. The fans had grabbed ashtrays, cushions, broken some plates, torn the curtains down, but none of it couldn't be repaired. The driver said something to her and she repeated it to Tanya.

"Tom said it's as bad as Santa Fe, but not nearly as bad as Denver or Las Vegas. Does this happen to you regularly?" Mary Stuart looked even more aghast at the list of comparisons. Poor Tanya, what a nightmare.

"It happens," Tanya said quietly. "I'll see you later," but Gordon touched her arm then.

"Don't make any promises," he said softly, blushing faintly. He would have suggested going to a roadhouse just for a drink so they could relax, but he didn't dare. He really wanted to take her to his place to unwind, so they could talk and sit by a fire. He didn't want to sit outside with her tonight. She'd been through too much, he wanted to take her home and put his arms around her. And who knew what might happen. Tanya read volumes in his eyes and nodded with a smile.

"Don't worry about me. I might be home late. I'm in good hands."

Mary Stuart knew Tanya was with Gordon. "See you tomorrow then?" she teased, and Tanya laughed.

"You never know. Give Zoe my love and tell her she picked a good night to stay home. And tell Hartley again how sorry I am."

"Stop apologizing. We're sorry for you. And thank our friend for me. He did a good job."

"He's a good man." Tanya smiled at him as she stood in the phone booth.

"I think so," Mary Stuart said softly. "Take care of yourself, Tan. We love you."

"I love you too, Stu. Good night," she said, and hung up, and then turned to him and he put his arms around her. He just stood there holding her, and then he put her in his truck, and drove her home to the little cabin behind the corral. He drove in as quietly as he could and turned the lights off, and they sat there for a moment. It had been quite a night for both of them, and Tanya was still feeling shaken. His bronco ride had been nothing compared to what came later.

"Are you okay, Tanny?" he asked gently.

"Yeah. I think so." They were about a quarter mile from her cabin, but she had no desire to go there. "Stuff like that always shakes me up for a while."

"Do you want to come in?" he asked. He would have understood if she didn't, if she wanted to go home and go to bed. But he wanted to be with her, and even though this wasn't allowed, it was better than being seen coming out of her cabin. He would have lost his job in either case if someone saw them together, but Gordon had decided days before that he thought she was worth it, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Tanny," he said kindly. "I'll take you back up to the cabin if you like."

"I'd like to come in," she said quietly. She wanted to see where he lived, what he had, what he liked, she just wanted to be with him.

"I think everyone's out, but we need to be kind of quiet about it." She knew how much trouble he'd be in if someone saw them, and she worried about it. The other cabins were nearby, although his was less accessible than most. But she didn't want anyone to see them.

"Is this all right for you?" she asked with worried eyes, and he smiled the smile that tore her heart out.

"About as all right as it gets," he said, and then got out of the truck, and strode quickly into his cabin. She followed him in and he locked the door, pulled down the shades and turned on the lights, and she was surprised at how orderly it was, and how pleasant. She had expected it to look a lot rougher and a lot more disheveled. The cabin itself, as it had been provided to him, was nicely decorated, with a denim couch and Western decor, and all around the room he had put photographs of his son, his parents, a horse he'd loved. There were books and magazines in neat piles, some tools in a neat box, and an entire bookcase filled with music. She was surprised by how many albums of hers he had, but she also liked his other choices.

There was a living room, a large kitchen with a dining area, and that was neat too, though the refrigerator was all but empty. He had what she called bachelor food. Peanut butter, an avocado, two lemons and a tomato, some soda water, a lot of beer, and a lifetime supply of Oreo cookies.

"You must not do a lot of cooking." She laughed.

"I eat in the staff dining room," he said, pointing out, as he pulled out a refrigerator bin, that he also had eggs, bacon, jam, butter, and English muffins.

"I'm impressed," she laughed, and he put a pot on for some coffee. He had whiskey and wine and offered her both, but she said she wasn't a drinker, although after the fracas at the rodeo he thought a shot of whiskey might have done her good, but she said she didn't want it. And as she walked out of the kitchen again, with a mug of coffee in her hand, she glimpsed his bedroom. It looked small and spare. There was a bed, a dresser, and a large comfortable chair. He pointed out that he didn't spend a lot of time there. But it was nice being in his world, seeing where he lived, and she felt surprisingly at home there. It was nicer than a lot of homes she had seen in her lifetime.

"It's almost as big as the house I grew up in when I was a kid," he said, smiling. "There were two bedrooms, my parents had one of them, and there were six of us kids in the other."

"Sounds like where I grew up," she smiled. "I'd probably still be there, if I hadn't gotten a music scholarship to Berkeley. That changed my life," she said, thinking back, and to the women she had met there.

"You changed mine," he said softly, as they sat down on the couch, and he put an arm around her. And a few minutes later, he put on some music. It was so peaceful there, she couldn't imagine any harm ever coming to her with him. She felt completely safe and totally protected. They started to kiss again after a while, and all the terror and the relief and the sheer horror of what had happened that night seemed to flow away from her as he held her. They kissed for a long time, and then he looked at her. He didn't want to do anything she didn't want, or would regret later. At any time, he would have taken her back to her cabin if that was what she wanted.

"Tanny?" His voice was gentle in the dark. He had turned off the lights and lit a fire, and the music lulled them as they held each other and kissed and slowly discovered each other's bodies. "Are you all right with this, Tanny? I don't want to do anything you don't want," he whispered.

"I'm fine," she said softly, and kissed him again, giving him her whole heart, her whole soul, and he lay on the couch next to her, and slowly peeled off her torn T-shirt. And as he took off her clothes, he was overwhelmed by the beauty of her body. She was like a young girl in his hands, she was tanned and honed, and had limbs that never seemed to end, and they both lay there naked side by side as he smiled at her. He had never been happier in his life, or loved a woman more, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave in to what he had wanted almost since the day he met her.

They went into his bedroom after that, and she slept in his arms, and when he awoke at dawn and looked down at her, he wondered if he was dreaming, if this was all a fantasy and it would end by morning. She would go back to Hollywood and forget she'd ever met him. But as he thought about it, she opened her eyes and looked up at him and told him how much she loved him.

"I'm scared," he said in the soft light of dawn. He had never admitted that to anyone before, but he said it to her, just as she told him all her secrets. "What if this never happened?... What if it all goes away again, what if..."

"Stop it... I love you..." she said. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm just a girl from Texas," she smiled, "don't you forget that." He laughed in the soft morning light, and they made love again, and it was ten o'clock when they woke up again, and she strolled into his living room stark naked.

"Oh, my God," he said, staring at her. "How did this happen to me?" He sat on the edge of the bed with a look of amazement, and she laughed happily.

"I think we both figured it was a good idea, some time around midnight. Or were you drunk?" she teased, but he still looked awestruck.

"I don't mean that... I mean look at you. Lawd, lawd... look at that woman. It's Tanya Thomas waikin' buck naked around my living room holding a cup of coffee from my kitchen." She laughed at the way he said it, and he laughed too. It was a crazy thought, all of it. Him, her, the place her life had gotten to, the fact that people wanted to tear her clothes off and rip her hair out.

"You look pretty good to me too," she grinned, and she proved it to him in his living room on the floor and on his couch, and then back in his bed. He was torn between spending the day making love to her and showing her all the things he wanted to share with her. It was a tough decision, but he told her that the best time for them to leave would be when everyone went to lunch. So at noon, they made a quiet getaway, and much to their delight no one saw them. She was wearing her jeans, an old hat, and she tied an old workshirt of his just beneath her breasts. She looked spectacular, and he shook his head in mock amazement at his fate, as she put on the radio and turned up the music.

She had left a message for the others at the ranch that she'd be back sometime that night. She wanted to spend the whole day with him, and she did.

They'd gone to a waterfall that day, and he had driven her high into the mountains. The view had been incredible, and they had gone for a long, long walk, while he talked about his childhood, his family, his dreams. She had never felt as comfortable with anyone in her life. And on their way back to town, he stopped at an old ranch. He said it had been one of the finest in town once, but the owner had died, and it wasn't showy enough for the kind of people coming to Jackson Hole now. A couple of movie stars had looked at it, and some German guy. Gordon knew the realtors. It was being offered at a fair price, and it needed some work, but most people thought it was too far out of town and too rustic. It was about forty minutes from Jackson Hole, and it looked like something in an old cowboy movie to Tanya. They walked around and peeked inside. It had a good-size ranch house, and three or four decent cabins for employees. It had stables that were in disrepair, and a big handsome barn, it needed some fixing up, but the meat was there, and it was obvious to Tanya that Gordon loved it.

"I'd like to buy a place like this myself one day," he said, squinting out at the mountains. You could look right down into the valley from where they were standing. There were some beautiful rides, and it was good land for horses.

"What would you do with it?"

"Fix it up. Breed horses probably. There's good money in that. But you've got to have start-up money to do it." It seemed a shame to him that no one had ever bought the place. He thought they were all missing the point. And Tanya agreed with him. She liked the ruggedness of it, and she could just imagine hiding away in a place like that all winter. You could do great things with the ranch house.

"Could you get in and out of here in the snow?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Sure. The road is good. You could get out easily with a snowplow. You'd have to send some of the horses south, but you could probably keep some here, with a heated barn." And then he laughed at himself for making plans with a ranch he didn't own. But Tanya was glad he'd shared it with her.