"Oh, God, I thought he was dead," she said as the others turned away discreetly and let her vent her terror. The surgeon explained to Charlotte that there had been ligaments and nerves involved, but he thought Gordon would be fine. He didn't even think he'd need additional surgery, just therapy, and a week or two of convalescence. He had lost a lot of blood, but Tanya and Zoe had both acted quickly and saved him. The doctor had decided not to give him a transfusion, and he thought that if he did well, and wasn't in too much pain, and didn't run a fever, he might even go back to the ranch the next morning. Charlotte nodded, and thanked him, and then the surgeon turned back to Tanya.

"Would you like to see him?" He smiled at her. "You and the doctor here did a fine job hanging on to him for us. Without you holding that artery, he'd never have made it. He'd have been gone in minutes." Tanya nodded, unable to speak for a minute.

"Is he awake?" she asked, as she followed him down the hall. The others had decided to wait in the waiting room, and were talking animatedly about what had happened.

"More or less," the doctor smiled at her, thinking what a pretty woman she was. He figured her for about thirty, and had no idea that she was Tanya Thomas. "He's a little groggy and a little drunk, but he asked for you as soon as he woke up. You're Tanny, right?" She nodded.

She followed the doctor into the recovery room and put on a gown, there were half a dozen nurses standing around, and twice as many machines from what Tanya could see, but he lifted his head and smiled at her when he saw her.

"Hi, baby," he said, and she leaned down and kissed him.

"You scared me to death," she said.

"Sorry... I was trying to keep him away from the horses, and he got me."

"You're lucky he didn't kill you," she said, still shaken by the entire evening.

"The doctor says you saved me." A long look passed between them that no one could mistake and she kissed him again.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he said, and then turned his head toward her and closed his eyes for a minute. She asked the doctor if she could stay, and he said she could, if she wanted. And she went out and told Zoe.

"Are you sure?" Charlotte Collins asked. "I can bring you back tomorrow."

"I'd like to stay," Tanya said quietly, and then she looked at Gordon's employer apologetically. "I'm sorry about what's been happening... about him... I don't mean to create trouble for him." But there was no way to hide it now, and Charlotte nodded, smiling.

"I know. Don't worry about it. Everything's all right. Just be careful." Like Zoe, she was concerned about Tanya. Zoe said something to her before she left, about being mobbed by the press. And Tanya told her not to worry. No one had the least idea who she was at the hospital.

The two women left, and John Kroner went home, and she went back to Gordon. He was sleeping. And they set up a small cot in the recovery room for her, and at six in the morning, they moved him to his own room and she went with him. He was awake by then, and claimed that he was fine, but he looked pretty rocky.

"I feel fine, let's go home," he said, but he was too dizzy from the loss of blood to sit up, and Tanya shook a finger at him.

"Yeah, you look great. Lie down and be quiet." She scolded him and he laughed. This was a golden opportunity to push him around, and he loved it.

"Just because you saved my life doesn't mean you get to tell me what to do for the rest of my life," he said, looking peevish, but he couldn't help looking at her and grinning. "You look tired, Tan," he said then, looking worried.

"You scared the hell out of me." But she had one more thing to do on the way home before she could sleep. And she was disappointed, she had wanted to go on a ride with him. She had Tom coming for him, and he could lie down in the back and take it easy.

The doctor said he could leave at noon, because he had developed no complications and had no fever, and Tom came for them, as Tanya had asked. Gordon whistled from the wheelchair as he saw the bus arrive.

"Subtle, aren't we?" He grinned. "How am I going to explain this to Charlotte? Or are we totally blown out of the water?"

"I'd say she got a small clue last night, while I was clutching her arm in the waiting room, waiting to hear from the doctor. Actually," Tanya said seriously, "she was very decent about it. I think she understood completely."

"I hope so. Getting slashed in the middle of the night with you around wasn't exactly in my plans," he said, still looking a little unnerved by it. But he seemed reasonably healthy, although she could tell the arm hurt. He wouldn't admit it, but he winced when he moved it. They had given him painkillers to take home, but he claimed that all he needed was a shot of whiskey.

She settled him in the back of the bus in one of the beds, and propped his arm up comfortably on pillows, and he grinned at her as she handed him a Coke, and they took off for the ranch, but after a while he glanced out the window and looked puzzled.

"I hate to tell you this, Tan, but your driver is going by way of China."

"I thought you'd like a little scenic tour on the way back." He didn't want to tell her he wanted a scenic tour of his bed, he was afraid to hurt her feelings, so he nodded, and kissed her.

"I just want you to know, I'm not going to let this affect our sex life," he said, and she laughed.

"Let me tell you, about midnight last night, your sex life was the least of your problems." Neither of them could believe what had happened.

She noticed just then that they had almost reached their destination. She glanced out the window and saw it. They had come around a bend, and were looking out over a bluff, just beneath the mountains. It was a place she had gone to with him the week before, and he recognized it as he looked out the window.

"What did you want to come back here for?" He looked amused and sat up, as he looked outside. "I love this place," he said. He wondered if she was just being sentimental, and he leaned over and kissed her, but she was laughing.

"I hope so," she said.

"Why?"

"Because I own it."

"You what?" He looked completely confused by what she was saying. "You do not. This is the old Parker Ranch. I've known it for years. I brought you here last Sunday."

"I know." She looked extremely pleased with herself as she kissed him. "I bought it on Monday."

"You're crazy." He looked completely overwhelmed and for a minute she was afraid he'd be angry. "Why did you do that?" He wanted to believe all this, but he just couldn't. He had brought her to see a ranch on Sunday, and the next day, she bought it. It defied the imagination.

"You told me I should buy a ranch here."

"So you did?" He stared at her. "Just like that?"

"The realtor said it was a great investment, and the price was fairly okay, so I figured I'd try it. I thought we'd do what you said. You can breed horses here, I can commute. You can do some stuff for Charlotte Collins. You help me run my little ranch. But we fix it up first. And well see. If we hate it, if you run off with some other rock star, if you decide to move to L. A. and give up broncos, I can always sell it. I figured we'd try it."

"Oh, baby," he said, and grabbed her close to him with his good arm. He knew it was for real now. No kidding. "You are amazing."

"Will you help me do it?"

"Of course I will," he said breathlessly, after what she'd done for him, there was nothing he wouldn't do now. She had proven herself in every way, and he knew he'd never forget it.

"I wanted to ride over here with you today, and show you."

"I can't believe this." He was still beaming as they pulled away and he looked at her again in amazement. "You really want to do this with me?" It was such a leap of faith for her, such a gift for both of them, it defied the imagination. He really did feel as though he'd died the night before and gone to Heaven. "How can you be so decent and so trusting?" he asked.

"Just stupid, I guess." She smiled and took a sip of his Coke, and settled him back on his pillows. "Is there any reason that I shouldn't?"

"No, ma'am," he said proudly, "you're going to have the best little ranch in Wyoming. When can we start fixing it up?"

"As soon as you can fly again," she pointed to his broken wing, "it's ours next week." It was hers of course, but she was going to share it with him. She figured she'd give it to him as a wedding present if they got married, but that was for later. She still had to get her divorce from Tony, and it wouldn't be final till Christmas. But after that... the possibilities were endless. The sky was the limit.

When they got to the ranch, and people saw the bus arrive, the whole staff was waiting outside his cabin, and they cheered as Tom helped him down the steps and into his cabin. Tanya was walking behind them. She was too afraid to hurt him if she moved his arm wrong. Everyone wanted to talk to him, tell him how glad they were that he was okay. They had brought him books and candy and food, and tapes. He had everything he needed. And now he had a woman who loved him, and the ranch he had always dreamed of. It brought tears to his eyes when he was finally alone with her again in his cabin.

"I still can't believe you. Nothing in my life has ever been like this."

"Me too," she said. "I love it here, and I want to be with you."

"I'll come to L.A. too, whenever I can," he reassured her.

"You don't have to if you don't want to." She had learned that lesson now. She lived in a difficult world, and if he didn't want to be part of it, she wouldn't force him.

"I want to. You've seen my world, you're part of it now. I want to see your world too. We can have both, as long as we understand each other."

"My world can be brutal," she said sadly, "it'll hurt you terribly, even if you're careful. Nothing's sacred. I don't want them to hurt you." But as it turned out, she couldn't stop them. The whole story was in the paper the next day, fed to the wire services, and it was on the front page of the tabloids, about how Tanya Thomas had gone to a ranch two weeks before, had an affair with a cowboy, and bought him a ranch a week later. It said how much she had supposedly paid for it, and added roughly a million dollars. And then it told the story of each of her husbands. Most of that was wrong, and all of it was ugly. The headline in the tabloids was A QUICKIE, OR QUICKIE, OR H HUBBY NO. 4? WHICH IS IT, TANYA? It approximated how much money he made a year, and how much she did, and it ridiculed her in every way. It cheapened him, it made her sound like a whore. It even made her look like a fool for singing the anthem at the rodeo, and they had the pictures they'd taken outside the bus there. It even told the story of how he'd been stabbed allegedly by another wrangler fighting over her in the corral. It made the knifing sound like a fight between two men vying for Tanya, and the article claimed she'd nearly been killed trying to stop them. She sat in her room at the ranch, feeling sick as she read it. The trouble was, there was always just enough truth in those stories to make people wonder. And she was worried about Gordon. What would he think of her when he read it? It approximated how much money he made a year, and how much she did, and it ridiculed her in every way. It cheapened him, it made her sound like a whore. It even made her look like a fool for singing the anthem at the rodeo, and they had the pictures they'd taken outside the bus there. It even told the story of how he'd been stabbed allegedly by another wrangler fighting over her in the corral. It made the knifing sound like a fight between two men vying for Tanya, and the article claimed she'd nearly been killed trying to stop them. She sat in her room at the ranch, feeling sick as she read it. The trouble was, there was always just enough truth in those stories to make people wonder. And she was worried about Gordon. What would he think of her when he read it?

"Don't read that shit," Zoe said, furious at what they'd done to her. And then she couldn't help asking. "Did you really buy him a ranch? It's probably bullshit, but I wondered."

"No, I bought me one. But he's going to help me. I think I've gotten smart enough not to try and drag him into my life. He's happy here. I don't want to spoil that, so I want to spend some time here."

"That's fair," Zoe said. "I just wondered. And Tan, I'm sorry."

"Me too," Tanya said miserably. "I used to wonder who talks, but I guess they all do. The cops, the press, the nurses, the ambulance drivers, the hairdressers of the world, and the tourists, the realtors, even friends sometimes. It's hopeless. Everyone supplies a tiny little piece of information and then they weave it into a knife and stab you with it, right through the heart." She wondered how Gordon was feeling. Rotten probably. How could he not? They managed to make everything good look sleazy. She had stayed with him the night before, and cooked dinner for him, and she hadn't even left him till daylight. It wasn't much of a secret now that she was with him. And when she'd gone back to her own cabin, she'd seen the papers. The others were thinking about hiding them, but they knew there was no point. She'd find out eventually, and it was better to face it.

"I can't believe those bastards," Mary Stuart said in fury to Hartley. He'd experienced it too, though never to that extent. And his success was different from Tanya's. Writers weren't usually devoured by tabloids, except for a few select ones. But Tanya was fair game, as far as they were concerned. And they loved to hate her.

She took the paper with her when she walked back to Gordon's cabin later that morning. The others had gone out for a last ride, and John Kroner had come over to go with them. He was riding with Zoe. Tanya was sorry not to go, but she wanted to be with Gordon. And now she wanted to talk to him about the papers. But the moment she walked in, she knew he'd seen it. There was something pained in his eyes, a kind of embarrassment, and she wondered if it was over between them. She looked at him long and hard. He was sitting on the couch, watching TV and drinking coffee. It had been on the news too, with a picture of him, and the slasher story, but she didn't know that. He couldn't believe how they could distort the truth that way. And as he looked at her, he wondered what she was feeling.

"How's the arm?" she asked, and he moved it a little bit to show her he could. But it wasn't the arm she was worried about now. It was how he felt about her after the story in the paper.

"You paid too much for the ranch," he said matter-of-factly, and she looked at him as she sat down. He had read the story.

"How do you like making headlines?" she asked, watching his eyes. He hadn't reached out his arm to her yet, or told her he loved her. He was digesting what had happened.

"I can think of better ways to do it, like shooting a reporter. I'd like to."

"Get used to it," she said, with a hard edge to her voice. They had done this to her before, but never quite as viciously, or as cruelly. They had demeaned him, they had made her look ridiculous and cheap and like a slut. It was typical of what they did. Life as an object at its finest. "This is what they do all the time, Gordon. They do it constantly. They take everything you do and turn it to shit. They make you look cheap and stupid and they misconstrue everything and misquote you. There is nothing sacred. Can you live with that?"

"No," he said simply, looking her right in the eye, and her heart stopped. "And I don't want you to either. If that's how they treat you, then I want you to stay here."

"But they do it here too. Who do you think gave them the story? Everyone. The realtor, the nurses last night, the paramedics, the cops, the grand marshal at the Rodeo. Everyone wants to feel important, and in order to do that they sell my ass out."

"They can't. I own it," he said with a glimmer in his eye, and she looked at him ruefully.

"As a matter of fact you do," she said, wishing it hadn't happened, that they hadn't been dragged through the papers, "but I want you to face the fact that everything we do or I touch is going to end up like this. If I have a baby, they're going to claim it's someone else's because I'm too old to have one, or they'll say I screwed the mailman, if we hire a cleaning woman they're going to say you're fucking her because I'm in L.A., if I buy you a present sometime, they're going to say how much it costs before I even give it to you, and then make you look like a gigolo because you accepted it in the first place. They're going to beat on us every day, in every way they can, and if we have kids, they're going to torture them too. It doesn't matter if I live here, or there, or in Venezuela, that's what my life is, and I want you to see that now, or you're going to hate me later. And even if you look at it and think it won't bother you, understand that after it has happened and happened and every dentist you go to, or dry cleaner, or hooker, God forbid, because I'd kill you," she added, and he grinned, "but every single person you do business with, with only one or two exceptions, will sell you out and make you look like garbage. And maybe the ninety-third time it happens to you, you'll start to hate me. It's happened to me before. I know what happens. I know how it feels. It erodes your life like cancer. I've lost two husbands to it, and the third one was so corrupt he sold my ass out to the tabloids more than anyone else did." It was her second husband, the manager, who had done that.

"Sounds like you've had a great life," he said, she had never told him that much about it, but he suspected it was painful.

"What are you expecting, Tanny?" he asked her sadly, but he could see it in her eyes now. "Are you expecting me to leave now? If you are, you'll be disappointed. I don't scare that easy. And I know what your life is like. I see the tabloids. I know the kind of crap they write. And you're right, it feels different when they write about you. I opened the paper this morning and I wanted to kill someone. But you're not the one who did it. You're the victim, not the asshole."

"People forget that," she said unhappily, "and they can't take it out on them. There's nothing you can do to them. It's not even worth suing them, no matter how much they lie, you just sell their papers for them. So in the end, you'll end up hating me because they hurt you."

"I love you," he said clearly, as he stood up and looked at her. "I love you. I don't want this to happen to you. And yeah, I'm going to hate it when they say this stuff about me, and there's plenty to say. I'm just a dumb cowboy from Texas, they'll all think I'm after your money. They're going to say you picked me up here. So what? You're real. I'm real. It just means I can't sit on my ass in Wyoming all the time, like I thought. I'll have to spend more time in L.A. protecting you, because I'm sure as hell not going to let you take this crap without me. Maybe we'll both have to commute for a while, until you get tired of it and decide to breed horses with me."

"I'm not giving up my career," she said, looking worried. "Even with all this shit, I like what I do." And she loved the singing.

"So do I. I would never ask you to give it up. And maybe it won't work living here part of the time. But I'd like you to try it. Let's see what happens. I want to be with you, here, there, wherever. I love you, Tanny. I don't give a damn about what they say about us."

"Do you really mean that? Even after all this?" She waved the paper at him.

"Of course I mean it." He grinned at her, and then he came over to where she sat and kissed her. "They said you lured me to bed with promises of buying me a ranch. When did I miss that part?"

"You were sleeping," she grinned, "I whispered it to you."

"You're an amazing woman, and I don't know how you put up with all this garbage."

"Neither do I," she said, leaning her head against him, as he sat down beside her and put an arm around her. "I hate them."

"Don't waste your energy. But I'll tell you one thing. You need to be a lot more careful. No more singing at rodeos, no more floating around hospitals thinking no one knows who you are, no more just marching in and buying ranches. Let's get a little sneaky about this, okay? You can hide behind me if you want to. I don't care what they say. In my case, it's probably all true anyway. Let me take the heat for you."

"Gordon, I love you. I thought you'd never want to see me after today." She had been so worried as soon as she saw the paper.

"Not likely," he grinned. "I was sitting here trying to figure out if I could talk Charlotte into a weekend off next week, so I could come to L.A. and surprise you. Maybe with the broken wing now, she'll let me go for a few days since I'll be pretty useless."

"Would you do that if you can? I'd love it."

"I'll try. She and I are going to have to sit down and have a serious talk next week anyway. I'd like to start working here part-time after the summer."

"Don't forget Europe and Asia next winter. It'll be a nightmare,"

"You make it sound terrific," he smiled. "I can hardly wait."

"Neither can I." She looked at him, thinking of how different her life was going to be now, with Gordon to take care of her and protect her. She wanted to be there for him too, but no one had ever treated her as he did.

"Where are we going to be at Christmas, by the way?"

"I forget... Germany... London... Paris... maybe Munich." She couldn't remember.

"How about getting married in Munich?" he said softly as he kissed her.

"I think I want to get married in Wyoming," she said, "looking up at the mountains where I found you."

"We can work that out later," he said, pulling her to her feet and into his arms, holding her with his good arm, "we have something else to work out before that," he said, pulling her toward his bedroom. "It's time for my nap." But she suspected he wanted to see if everything was still working. It was painful to realize this was their last day together. They spent the whole afternoon in bed, while everyone else was riding. He fell asleep in her arms, and she held him for a long time, unable to believe her good fortune. And she had almost lost him two days before. It didn't bear thinking.

Hartley was very quiet that afternoon as they rode alone, he was trying to cope with the idea of losing her, if she didn't come back to him after London.

"Don't do that to yourself," Mary Stuart said gently when he told her what he was thinking.

"I have to. What if you don't come back? What will I do then? I just found you, and I can't imagine losing you so quickly." He didn't say it to her, but he knew he'd write about it. It wouldn't change anything, but at least it would allow him to work out the feelings. "You can't promise me you'll be back, Mary Stuart. You don't know that."

"That's true. But we have so many losses in life. Why taste them before they happen?"

"Because the taste is too bitter when you don't. I'll miss you so much if I lose you," he said nostalgically, and she leaned over and kissed him.

"I'll do my best to return very quickly." And she meant to, but he surprised her with what he said next.