"I can't believe you. I thought you were dying an hour ago."

"I've been resurrected. Select parts of me anyway." She laughed at him, he was certainly in good form, and they made love in her Jacuzzi. It was midnight when they got out again, and they'd been in the water for so long that she said she felt like a little shriveled-up raisin. "You shore don't look like one," he drawled, caressing her bottom, and then she turned and looked at him, "Do you want to go back to your place or stay here?"

He thought about it for a moment, and knew he was a fool, but he just couldn't resist it. Just this once, he decided to take a chance. "I may regret this, especially if you don't kick me out around five-thirty. That's real important."

"I will," she promised him.

"Then let's stay here... I don't think I'll make it to my cabin." Even more than that, he didn't really want to. They slipped into her enormous bed, and he thought he'd never felt anything as comfortable. The sheets were clean, her flesh was smooth, she smelled of perfume and soap, even her hair was clean. He had never felt better in his life, and he was asleep even before she could turn the light out.

He held her close to him all night, and she woke him up gently, as promised, at five-twenty. She had set her alarm clock.

"I hate to do this to you, baby," she whispered into his neck, and he rolled over and put an arm around her. Even in his sleep he was affectionate with her, and she loved it. "You've got to get up."

"No, I don't," he said in the dark, with his eyes closed. "I died and went to Heaven."

"Me too... come on, get up, sleepyhead..." He opened his eyes finally, and with a groan he got out of bed, and slowly put his clothes on. They were still filthy from the fire, and he was clean, but he only had to wear them as far as his cabin, and then he would shower again, and dress for work. But he hated to leave her.

"Thank you," he said, as he stood looking at her, "that was the nicest gift anyone could give me," he meant the Jacuzzi as much as her loving, and she smiled at him.

"I thought that would do you good." And as they stood there, she remembered it was Wednesday. "You're not riding in the rodeo tonight, are you?" she asked, and he hesitated and then shook his head.

"I think I'd either fall asleep or fall off before I got out of the pen. I think I'll pass tonight."

"Me too," she said, after the fiasco on Saturday night, she hadn't planned on going either.

"Why don't we spend a quiet night listening to music? Do you mind coming to the cabin again?"

"No, sir." She smiled and kissed him, and told him she would see him later. And then he slipped out on silent feet and was gone before anyone could see him. And when she saw him at the corral at nine o'clock, he looked clean and organized and official in a white shirt, a cowboy hat, and a pair of jeans. The horses were all sorted out and saddled, everyone looked rested again. Other than a faint smell of smoke in the air, you would never have known that anything had happened. But it was all anyone could talk about all day. The fire on Shadow Mountain.

It was a peaceful day for all of them, and that afternoon, after lunch, Mary Stuart called Bill in London. He was working in his room, and he sounded a little surprised to hear from her. She usually sent him faxes now and rarely called him. But he seldom called her either.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, startled to hear her voice. It was ten o'clock at night in London.

"No, I'm fine," she said matter-of-factly, and asked him how work was, he said it was fine, and then there was an awkward silence. She told him about the forest fire then, and that Zoe and Tanya had volunteered, but she had been evacuated to another ranch. She didn't say that she had gone with Hartley. And then she totally stunned her husband. "I thought I'd come to London next week," she said quietly.

"I told you," he said, sounding irritated. "I'm busy."

"I'm well aware of that. But I think we need to talk. Otherwise I'm not going to see you till September." Apparently that didn't bother him. But it bothered her a lot. That was part of the problem.

"I might be back at the end of August."

"I'm not going to wait another six weeks to see you," she said simply.

"I miss you too," he said, still annoyed, "but I'm working day and night. I told you that. Otherwise, I'd have had you come with me."

"Would you rather I just send you a fax?" she snapped at him. It was ridiculous, he wouldn't even take the time for her to tell him it was over.

"Don't be disagreeable. I don't have time to see you."

"That's the entire point of my visit. You don't have time to speak to me either, or make love to me, or be my husband. I don't actually think it has as much to do with time, Bill, as interest."

"What exactly are you saying?" he said with a little chill running up his spine. He was suddenly beginning to understand what she was saying, the faxes, the silences, the fact that she didn't call. He was getting it. But very, very slowly. "Why are you coming over here?" he asked her bluntly. He had always hated surprises.

"To see you. I won't take a lot of your time, I won't even stay in the same hotel if you don't want me to. I just think that after twenty-one years, we ought to say a word or two to each other before we throw the whole mess in the trash can."

"Is that how you feel about us?" He sounded both appalled and startled, but she couldn't deny it.

"Yes, it is, and I'm sure you feel that way too. I just think we ought to talk about it."

"I don't feel that way at all," he said, sounding crushed. "How could you say that?"

"The fact that you can even ask me that is the saddest thing I can think of."

"We've both been through a great deal... And I have this very important case in London... you know that..."

"I know, Bill." She sounded tired listening to him. He was so totally without insight that she wondered if it was even worth her while going over to see him. Just talking to him depressed her. "We'll talk next week."

"Are we talking or signing papers?" he said, sounding angry.

"That's up to you." But it wasn't. It was up to her. And she knew it. He'd probably go on like that forever, married to a woman he never touched, looked at, or spoke to. As far as she was concerned it was not too appealing. And having just spent ten days talking to Hartley constantly, the idea of going back to a silent, loveless marriage made her suicidal. She just wasn't going to do it. It was over.

"It sounds as if you've already made up your mind," Bill said unhappily, and she almost said that was the case, but if she had there would have been no point going to London. And somehow she felt that she had to give him a chance to defend himself, to at least explain why he had treated her so badly for the last year, before she told him. But it was a bit of a kangaroo court, and she knew it. "Are you flying from New York?" he asked, as though that made a difference, but of course it didn't.

"I'm coming from L.A., as soon as I leave Tanya."

"Is this her idea?" he asked, as though she couldn't have thought of it herself. "Or your other friend, the doctor?"

"Her name is Zoe. And no, it's not their idea. Bill, it's mine. I thought all this out before I left New York, and I see no point waiting two more months to tell you."

"Tell me what?" He was really pressing her. He heard what she was saying and the way she sounded, and he was beginning to sound panicked. It was pathetic. Instead of panicking now, he should have noticed the situation six months earlier, or even two. That might have made a difference. Now it wouldn't.

"I'm telling you I'm miserable with you, or hadn't you noticed? And you're just as miserable with me. And don't be dishonest about it."

"It's been a hard time, but I'm sure it'll be fine," he said, denying all the agony of the last year, the bitterness, the silence, the hatred.

"Why would it be fine? What is possibly going to change it?" She had asked him to see a therapist months before and he had refused. He was not dealing with it, and he was hiding. How could it possibly get any better? But he sounded as though he was fighting for his life now.

"I don't know what's going on here." He sounded completely confused, and totally unprepared for her accusations, as though he had never expected her to notice, as though he could just park her somewhere and beat on her occasionally, and come back one day if he felt better. Well, it was too late. And suddenly he knew it. "I don't understand why you're coming over." He was still trying to deny it.

"We'll talk about it next week," she said, unwilling to pursue it any further.

"Maybe I can come to New York for a weekend," he said, as though having her come to London was too threatening. But she wasn't going to wait a moment longer than she had to.

"You don't need to do that. You're busy. I won't take up too much time. I promise. I'm going to try and meet up with Alyssa."

"Does she know you're coming?" Did everyone? He sounded utterly panicked.

"Not yet," Mary Stuart said coolly. She had loved him for too long, given too much to him, and waited too long for it to get better. And now she had nothing left to give him. She wasn't even sorry. "I'll try and track her down before I come."

"Maybe we can all spend a weekend together," he said, sounding hopeful.

"I don't want to do that. That's not why I'm coming. I'll come to London to see you for a day or two, and then I'll fly to wherever she is." She was not going to let him hide behind their daughter, or have him play little family at her expense. This was between her and her husband and no one else, and she didn't want Alyssa with them.

"You can stay longer if you want. As long as you're coming over..." His voice trailed off but he was beginning to sense that it was pointless. He was not a complete fool, and he had never heard her so heartless or so angry. It never even occurred to him that there might be someone else. She didn't sound that way, and she was not that kind of woman. He felt certain that she had always been faithful to him, and he was right. But he had never, ever heard her so angry. It was more than anger, it was disdain. He knew now that it had gone too far. And he knew exactly what he was going to hear when she came to London. He respected her for coming to tell him herself and not writing to him, but that didn't make it any better.

He was crushed when they hung up. She could have saved herself the trip. He knew precisely what she was going to tell him. All he could think of to do was send her a fax. And when she got it an hour later, she looked at it and threw it in the garbage. It fell on the floor instead, and Zoe picked it up that afternoon and shook her head when she read it. The poor guy really didn't have a clue. He was hopeless.

"Looking forward to seeing you next week. Warm regards to you and your friends, Bill." For a drowning man who was fighting for his life, he might as well have been clinging to a toothpick. And it seemed obvious to Zoe, or anyone who knew Mary Stuart, that he was not going to make it.

Chapter 20.

By Thursday, they were each clinging to the last of their days, like worry beads they were each hanging on to for different reasons. Of the three of them Zoe was the most excited to go home, she'd been talking to Sam every day, she was feeling well, and she was anxious to see her baby. But she still loved being at the ranch, and felt that each day there was an opportunity to get stronger. It was like going to Lourdes, she said jokingly, she could look up at the mountains and pray and she knew she would go home a whole person. And John Kroner even said there was something to that.

But for the others, each day less was an agony of sorts, a priceless gift they had lost, something they knew they would never again recapture. In the face of their departure, Hartley was beginning to fear that they had been too cautious, that they should have had an affair, that they should have done more than kiss and hold each other, and learn all about each other. He saw what Tanya and Gordon had, and he suddenly envied them. But when he talked to Mary Stuart about it on Thursday afternoon, she told him he was being foolish. They had done the right thing for them, and he knew that. She reminded him of how much they had both been through, how much loss, how much pain, and how much wiser for them to proceed with caution. She didn't want to begin their relationship by feeling she had cheated on Bill, or left him for Hartley. She didn't want guilt trailing them for the rest of their lives, and Hartley smiled at her, relieved by what she was saying. For a short time, he had panicked.

"As long as there is a 'rest of our lives,' then I'm not worried." Neither of them was completely sure of it, and there was still her trip to London to live through, but it certainly looked as though they were going to wind up together. And anyone watching them for any length of time would have put money on it, particularly Tanya and Zoe.

"I think I'm going to go crazy when I know you're in London," Hartley said sheepishly. He was such a nice man, and he was so attractive. He had invited Mary Stuart to go to Seattle with him. He was talking to a library there that wanted to build a wing in his honor, and from there he was flying to Boston, to discuss a lecture he was going to give at Harvard. It was going to be an interesting life for her, if she joined him. He was anxious to have her read his work too, and he had given her pieces of the manuscript he was working on. It had been a great honor for her, and suddenly the prospect of finding a job no longer seemed as important. Hartley was going to keep her very busy.

But she declined his offer to travel with him when they left Wyoming. She wanted to go back to Los Angeles with Tanya, spend a day or two with her, and then fly on to London. She needed to get it over with, to clear her head. And she would meet him back in New York as soon as it was over. It would be better for both of them, she'd be free then. And she was more than willing to spend the rest of the summer with him at Fisher's Island. He wanted to give a dinner party for her, to introduce her to his friends, and let them know the good times had come again after nearly two years of solitude and silence. He was ready to come out of hiding.

"I'll call you the minute I've talked to him." Mary Stuart smiled gently as they walked along. They had ridden that morning, but decided not to ride that afternoon. They wanted to be alone and do some hiking.

"Maybe we should arrange some kind of a signal."

"Like what?" She tried to imagine what she would feel like in his shoes, and she sympathized although she thought he was unduly nervous about it. Her trip to London was nothing more than a courtesy, as far as she was concerned, especially after her last conversation with her husband. "What kind of signal do you have in mind?" she smiled gently.

"One if by land, two if by sea," he laughed, and then frowned as he thought about it. And then finally he looked at her with worried eyes. "Just send me a fax with some kind of a message. And let me know when you're coming. I'll pick you up at the airport."

"Stop worrying," she said, and kissed him, as they walked slowly back toward the ranch, holding hands, just as Gordon and Tanya galloped back from Shadow Mountain. They had been surveying the damage after the fire, and it was fairly extensive. They were talking about it on the way down, when Tanya noticed a man on foot coming out of a clearing. He looked like sort of a wild mountain man, he was wearing torn clothes and had long hair, and in spite of the rubble and the charred wood everywhere, he was barefoot. He stood watching them for a little while, and then he disappeared into the tree line.

"Who was that?" Tanya asked as they rode on. He had looked strange, and he'd been carrying a rifle.

"There are guys like that who live up in the mountains from time to time. They travel around the national parks. The fire probably drove him out and he's looking for a new campsite. They're harmless." Gordon looked unconcerned as they rode on, and Tanya smiled as she thought of something. She had asked him about a ride she wanted to take tomorrow. He said it was possible, but they would have to start early.

They were back at the corral on time at the end of the afternoon. She left him there, and they both knew she would be at the cabin later that night. She was spending all of her evenings there, after she had dinner with the others, and she was back before they got up in the morning. It was the happiest time she'd had in years and none of them begrudged it to her.

She had dinner with them all that night, and all of them were in good spirits. Hartley and Mary Stuart looked relaxed, and Zoe had spent the afternoon at the hospital visiting John Kroner, She enjoyed his company and he was grateful for her input with his patients. They were all laughing and telling jokes, and it was later than usual when she left them in the cabin. Even Hartley suspected where she went although he didn't know how long she stayed there. But Gordon was a nice guy and they seemed surprisingly well matched. It actually didn't shock him.

She walked down the path, as she always did, and the sky was filled with stars. It was such a pretty night, she almost hated to go in, and she could hear the horses neighing softly when she went by them. He was waiting for her, as he always did. He had music on, and he'd made coffee for her. They sat and talked for a while, and inevitably they made love, and as she lay with him, she wished she could turn the clock back. Time was moving much too quickly. They were lying in the dark and talking late that night when she thought she heard a crashing sound, a dog barked, and then the horses suddenly were neighing loudly. Gordon turned his head in the dark, and listened to the sounds, and then the dog barked again, and it sounded as though the horses were going crazy.

"Is something wrong?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know. Sometimes something spooks them, a coyote sneaks down to the corral, or someone walks by. It's probably nothing." But ten minutes later, it hadn't stopped, if anything it was worse, and she could hear banging sounds, as though some of the horses were rearing in their stalls, and Gordon decided to put his clothes on and check them. "I'm sure they're fine," but he was responsible for looking in on them in case anything happened. And she knew she couldn't go with him.

"I'll wait here," she said, watching him move around in the dark. He had put on jeans and boots, and pulled a sweater over his bare chest. He looked so handsome as he stood there in the moonlight that she almost wanted to stop him. She kissed him long and hard and felt him aroused and he laughed softly in the darkness.

"Hold that thought, I'll be right back." He headed for the corral at a run, and then she saw him slow as he rounded the corner. She was peeking from his kitchen window. And she couldn't see anything. Other than the noise the horses had made, and were still making now, everything seemed to be peaceful. But he didn't come back for a long time and after an hour, she got worried. She didn't know if one of the horses was sick, and he had to stay with it, or if something had happened. And she couldn't call anyone for help, or ask someone to check. She decided to put her own clothes on and look for him. At worst if she met someone, she could say she hadn't been able to sleep and had gone for a walk. They wouldn't know where she'd come from.

She walked slowly toward the corral, and it seemed quieter suddenly, but as she turned the corner she saw them. It was the mountain man, he was pointing a gun at Gordon, who stood very still talking to him, and then she saw that several of the horses were smeared with blood, and one was lying on the ground, and she noticed a huge hunting knife he was brandishing at Gordon. It took her a moment to realize what was happening, and then slowly she backed away and began to run, and just as she turned the corner he saw her, and as he did, a shot rang out. She had no idea where he'd shot or who, or if he was shooting at her, she just kept running. She knew she had to get help and fast, and she prayed that he wasn't shooting at Gordon. She couldn't even think of that now. There were no more shots, as Tanya's feet pounded onto the porch of the nearest wrangler's house and she hammered on the door. It was one of the men she knew, a young boy from Colorado, and he came to the door with a blanket wrapped around his middle. He thought it was probably another forest fire. Sometimes when a fire was put out, an ember smoldered for a while and then set it off again, but he saw from her face that something much worse than that had happened. He knew instantly who she was, and she grabbed his arm and tried to pull him with her.

"There's a man with a knife and a gun in the corral, some of the horses are hurt and he's got Gordon. Come quickly!"

He had no idea how she knew and he didn't ask her. He dropped the blanket and put on his pants, as she turned away while he finished dressing. He was still zipping up his pants as he came out on the porch, and pounded on the door of the cabin one door over. The lights went on, the man came out, the young man Tanya was with told him to call the sheriff and round up the others, and then he and Tanya headed for the corral at a dead run in time to see the man jump on one of the horses and gallop off toward the mountains. He was still brandishing his gun and shouting obscenities at them, but he didn't shoot at anyone. Two horses lay dead, one stabbed, the other shot, and Gordon was lying on the ground bleeding profusely. There was blood everywhere, and it was spurting from his arm. Tanya understood instantly what had happened. An artery had been cut and he was going to bleed to death in a matter of moments. She grabbed his arm and applied pressure to it, and shouted at the other wrangler to run to her cabin and get Zoe, and as she looked at him she could see Gordon fading away on her. But for a second at least the blood had slowed. She was already covered with it, and it was all over the ground, and the horses were going crazy all around her.

"Come on, baby... come on... Gordon, talk to me..." She was trying to keep him conscious while putting pressure on the artery, but she could see that he was going. "No!" she shouted at him, but she didn't have a free hand to slap his face or do anything but slow the blood down. "Gordon! Wake up!" She was shouting and crying all at once, as the others began to arrive. They were stunned, and it took a minute for them to understand what had happened. No one had heard anything and as she tried to explain and hold Gordon's arm she saw Zoe flying down the hillside in her nightgown. She was carrying her doctor's bag, and as she reached them, Tanya saw that she was wearing rubber gloves, to protect Gordon from her illness.

"Make room for me," she said to the men, "that's it... thanks." She knelt beside him and looked at Tanya.

"Someone slashed him with a hunting knife." Zoe could see he had all but taken his arm off. "I think he hit an artery, it was gushing like a pulse." She had taken first-aid years before and this much she remembered.

"Don't let go," Zoe instructed her, and tried to check it out, but even just moving the arm a tiny bit, a geyser of blood hit them both and the ground around them. Tanya shifted the pressure again, and Zoe made a tourniquet as best she could just above her, but he was in bad shape, and in shock, and she wasn't at all sure that he'd make it. Tanya could see that too and she kept shouting his name as the other men watched in horror. Charlotte Collins had been called by then, and two of the wranglers were grieving over their lost horses. The man had been insane. The wrangler she had woken up was telling all of them what he had seen, and what seemed to have happened.

"How soon do you think the ambulance will come?" Zoe asked one of the men.

"Ten, fifteen minutes," they answered, and she looked pained. Gordon wasn't looking good, and there wasn't much she could do here. He needed blood, oxygen, and an operating room as fast as he could get there. But just as she began to give up hope, a siren screamed through the night, and the wranglers directed it right down to where Gordon lay. He had just lost consciousness and his pulse was thready. He had lost a lot of blood, and Tanya was sobbing as she kept pressure on the wound while Zoe kept trying to reassure her. Other than the tourniquet, there was nothing she could do now, except keep track of his vital signs, and pray he made it.

She told the paramedics as much as she knew immediately and they had him on a stretcher in seconds. Zoe got in with them and someone handed her a long slicker to cover her nightgown with. It was all they had, and Tanya asked if she could go with them. The paramedics were holding his wound now, and Gordon was as white as paper.

"How about if I drive you?" a voice asked, and Tanya saw that it was Charlotte Collins. There was no disapproval in her face, only gratitude, and Tanya nodded. She let the ambulance go ahead, there hadn't been room for her anyway, and Zoe didn't want her there if he died, which she thought was likely. It was easier for Tanya to ride right behind with Charlotte Collins. Tanya told her about seeing the man earlier that day, carrying a rifle, and Gordon thinking he was harmless.

"Most of them are, some are disturbed. There was a terrible story a few years ago, some guy recently out of prison in another state murdered a whole family in their sleeping bags, but that kind of thing doesn't happen here often. Most of us don't even lock our doors at night," she said, glancing at Tanya's obvious terror for Gordon. She wished she were in the ambulance. She couldn't believe what had happened to him. It was incredible, and it had all happened so quickly.

It felt like a thousand years getting to the hospital, and neither of them spoke again on the way. Tanya was clearly too jangled to make conversation. And Charlotte was deeply sympathetic. She knew more than Tanya thought. There was very little that happened on the ranch that escaped her notice. It wasn't what she recommended to her staff, on the contrary there were severe penalties for fraternizing with the guests, but now and then odd things happened, Life was life, and rules were something else sometimes. She just hoped that he didn't die now. The rest could be sorted out later.

When they reached the hospital, a code blue had been sent out, and they were met by a dozen staff, a gurney from the operating room, and two surgeons were already scrubbing. They asked Zoe if she wanted to come in, and she said she didn't think that she was needed. She thought she'd be more useful in the waiting room with Tanya. She had kept him alive for the ride, that was about all she could do for him. The rest was up to the emergency room staff and the surgeons.

"How is he?" Tanya asked hoarsely.

"Alive" was all Zoe could say for him at that point, but she knew she had to be honest with her. "But barely." Charlotte shook her head in dismay at her answer, and they both held Tanya's hands as she cried and they waited. Tanya wasn't even embarrassed to have Charlotte see her cry. She didn't care what she knew now. All Tanya knew was that she loved him.

The police came after a while and questioned her. She told them what she knew and where she'd been, and Zoe worried about her. When that got out, she'd be in the tabloids again, and it wouldn't be pretty. Tanya Thomas "screwing around" at a dude ranch with the wranglers. Charlotte thought of it too and went to have a word with the officers. They nodded and left. There wasn't much they could do to suppress evidence or testimony and no one wanted them to, but nobody needed to call the papers. They were very sympathetic, and they knew Charlotte. They also promised to send the sheriff into the mountains to look for Gordon's attacker, and recover the horse he'd stolen.

John Kroner even turned up after a while. Someone had called him at home, since he was the physician for the ranch, and he sat and talked softly with Zoe. He went up to the O.R. to see what he could find out, but Gordon was still hanging in the balance. The artery had been sewn, but there had apparently been a lot of damage and blood loss. Tanya just sat there with her eyes closed after a while, and Zoe and John took a little walk down the hall together.

"She doesn't look great," John said to Zoe once they'd walked away. "Did the guy go after her too? What was she doing at the corral at midnight?" Zoe looked at him and smiled, he was naive, but he was young, and she had come to trust him since she'd been there.

"She's in love with him." That explained all of it, and John nodded.

It was another hour before the head surgeon came to them, and he looked so grim Tanya almost fainted when she saw him. Zoe was holding tightly to her hand, and Tanya was already crying before he said a word. He looked right at her, as though he understood the situation perfectly. He had no idea who she was and he didn't care. He could see what was happening to her and who he needed to speak to. "He's going to be all right," he said in a single breath, and Tanya burst into sobs and clung to Zoe.

"It's okay, Tan... it's okay... he's going to make it... shhh... baby."