"No, to Bill. I don't know. Something happened when he left. It's as though he thinks he can do whatever he likes now. He has the option to do what he wants, to go to London for two months alone, even though I could have been there. The firm would even have paid for it, but he didn't want me. And yet I'm expected to be there for him, to run his home, to take his messages, to cook his dinner. But he no longer has to speak to me, or care for me, or take me anywhere. He's silently blaming me for killing Todd, or at least not stopping him from what he did. But Bill no longer acts married to me now. That's my punishment. I'm married, and he's not. Like a sentence in purgatory, and I've been letting him punish me because I felt so guilty. But a funny thing happened when I put Todd's things away, it freed me. I feel sad, I feel loss, I still feel terrible grief sometimes." She had cried for him again the night before she left, and for her marriage as well. She had sensed before she left that she might never come back in quite the same way to their apartment. "But I don't feel as guilty. It wasn't my fault. It was terrible. But it was something Todd did. And no matter how terrible it was, or how foolish, even though I'm his mother, I couldn't have stopped him."

"Do you really believe that?" Tanya asked, looking relieved. It was exactly what she had tried to tell her, but Mary Stuart hadn't been ready to hear it. Or maybe Tanya had started the process for her. She hoped so, as she listened.

"I believe it now," Mary Stuart said quietly. "But I don't think Bill does. I think he's going to go on punishing me forever." And then she looked out the window as they drove out of Los Angeles County, thinking of her husband. "We're not married to each other anymore, Tan. It's all over. I don't think he'd admit it if I asked him. But there's nothing left, and I think he knows it too. If there were, I'd be in London with him."

"Maybe he just can't face you yet," Tanya tried to say fairly, but she suspected Mary Stuart was right. What she had told her in New York had been a nightmare. The silence, the loneliness, the agony of his rejection. And even to Tanya the fact that he didn't want her in London with him told its own story.

"I don't think there's anything to go back to. It took me a long time to face that. I think it was especially hard for me because I used to think we had such a great marriage. More than twenty years isn't bad. And it was so good when it was good," Mary Stuart said sadly. "I always thought we were so close and so happy. It seems amazing that a blow like that could end it all. You would think it would bring us closer."

"I don't think it works like that," Tanya said honestly. "Most marriages don't survive the death of children. People blame each other, or they just wither up inside. I don't know, but I've read a lot about it. I don't think what happened is surprising."

"It's as if all those years before don't count at all. I thought it was like money in the bank, you store it up so that when you really need it you have it, and then when the roof fell in I found out our piggy bank was empty." She smiled wistfully, but she had begun to make her peace with it, oddly enough only in the past few weeks. And she'd had a lot of time to think once he left for London. "I just don't think I could go back to what it was like last year, and I don't think we could ever fix it."

"Would you try if he asked you to?" Tanya was curious. Like Mary Stuart, she had always thought they had a great marriage.

"I'm not sure," Mary Stuart said cautiously. "I just don't know now. What we went through was so painful that I don't want to go back, I just want to go forward." Tanya and she sat silently for a few minutes as they headed into the San Bernardino Mountains, and then Mary Stuart asked her a question. They were both stretched out on the couches by then, and Tanya had taken her hat and boots off. It was a great way to travel. "What's happening with Tony?"

"Not much. He called an attorney. Mine is taking care of it for me. It's all pretty predictable and relatively nasty. He wants the house in Malibu, and I won't give it to him. I bought it and put most of the money into it, and in the end I'll have to give him a bunch of money to keep it. And some other stuff. He took the Rolls, and he wants alimony and a settlement, and he'll probably get it. He says that my lifestyle caused him pain and suffering and he wants to get paid for it." She shrugged, but it made Mary Stuart livid.

"You'd think he'd be embarrassed," Mary Stuart said with a disapproving frown. She had always hated the things people did to Tanya. It was as though they thought it was all right because of who she was. Even Tony had given in to it finally. It was hard for anyone to remember she was a person, and harder still for people to resist just grabbing for what they wanted.

Tanya hated it too, but it was something she had long since understood and made her peace with. It was just what happened when you became that famous.

"Not much embarrasses him, or anyone else for that matter," Tanya said, with her hands behind her head as she lay there. "That's just the way it is. Sometimes I think I'm used to it, and sometimes it makes me crazy. My lawyer keeps telling me that it's just money and not to let it upset me. But it's my money and my life, and I worked like a dog for it. I don't see why some guy, any guy, should just get to come along, sleep with you for a while, and then take half of what you've got. It's a hell of a price to pay for a couple of years in the sack with a guy who cheats anyway. What about my 'pain and suffering'? I guess that's not the issue. We go to court next month, and the media will love it."

"Will they be there?" Mary Stuart looked horrified. How could they do this to her? But they would, and they did, and they had, for nearly twenty years now.

"Of course they'll be there. Courtrooms are open to the press and TV. First Amendment, remember?" She looked cynical, but she knew what went with the trappings of her business.

"That's not First Amendment, that's bullshit, and you know it."

"Tell it to the judge," Tanya said, and crossed her ankles. She looked glorious, but there was no one there to see it. This was a rare bit of privacy for her, and she trusted Tom, the driver. He had driven for her for years, and was the soul of discretion. He had a wife and four kids, and never told anyone who he worked for. Sometimes he just said "Greyhound." He admired her a lot, and would have done just about anything to protect her.

"I don't know how you stand the crap that goes with your life," Mary Stuart said admiringly. "I think I'd go completely berserk after about two days."

"No, you wouldn't. You'd get used to it, just like I did. There are a lot of perks. That's what kind of sucks you in at first, they don't hit you with the rough stuff until later, and then it's too late, you're too far in to get out, and you figure you might as well stay for the whole show. I'm not sure yet myself if it's been worth it. Sometimes I doubt it. And sometimes I love it." She hated the pressure and the press and the ugliness of what was hurled at her. But she still enjoyed what she did, and most of the time, she stayed in it for the music. The rest of the time she didn't know why she did it.

They rode on in silence for a while, and then Tanya went to the kitchen and made popcorn. They made sandwiches late that afternoon, and Tanya took one to Tom, with a cup of coffee. They only stopped once, so he could stretch, and the rest of the time they just pressed on, chatting and reading, and Tanya watched a video she'd gotten from the Academy of a first-run movie, and Mary Stuart slept while she watched it. She was exhausted from all her emotions before she left New York. Ever since Bill had left, she'd been moving toward a decision about their life and now she thought she had made it. As sad as it was, it was a relief in a way. It was time to cut their losses. And Tanya didn't disagree with her. But she was sure Alyssa would be upset when her mother told her. She had no idea how Bill would react. She thought it might be a relief for him too. Maybe it was what he had wanted all year, and hadn't had the guts to tell her. She was going to wait, and tell him when he got back from London in late August, or September. And in the meantime, she was going to make plans for her future. After the two weeks at the ranch, Mary Stuart said she was going to L.A. for a week to visit Tanya, and then she had decided to go to East Hampton for a few weeks to get out of the city. She had lots of friends there. It was going to be an interesting summer.

And Tanya was smiling at her when she woke up from her nap. They had traveled far from southern California by then, and had moved on through Nevada.

"Where are we?" Mary Stuart asked, sitting up and looking around. And even half asleep, she barely looked tousled. Tanya leaned over and messed up her hair for her, just as she had done in college, and they both laughed.

"You look about twelve years old, Stu. I hate you. I spend half my life at the plastic surgeon, and you look like that naturally. You're disgusting." They both looked great and nowhere near their ages. "By the way, I talked to Zoe again last week," she said casually. "She's really doing an incredible thing with her AIDS clinic in San Francisco." They both agreed that it was just like her, and Tanya commented that it was too bad she had never married.

"Somehow, I never thought she would," Mary Stuart said thoughtfully.

"I don't know why not. She had plenty of boyfriends."

"Yeah, but her sense of nurturing was on a grander scale... orphans in Cambodia, children starving in Ethiopia, refugees from underdeveloped countries. Her AIDS clinic doesn't surprise me in the least, it's exactly what she should have done. The only thing that does surprise me is the baby she adopted. I never figured she'd have kids either. She's too idealistic. I can imagine her dying for a cause she cares about, but not cleaning up throw up." Tanya couldn't help laughing at the description. She was right on the money. It had always been Mary Stuart and Eleanor who cleaned up the suite. Zoe was always out demonstrating somewhere, and Tanya was either on the phone with Bobby Joe, or rehearsing some music department concert. The domestic arts had never been her strong suit.

"I'd really like to see her," Tanya said cautiously, wondering just how mad Mary Stuart was going to be, and hoping it wouldn't be very. It was going to break her heart if one of them refused to stay at the ranch. If either of them left, Tanya thought it was going to be Mary Stuart and not Zoe. It was Mary Stuart who had been so hurt by what Zoe had told her.

But when Tanya mentioned wanting to see Zoe, Mary Stuart didn't answer. She just looked out the window, remembering what had happened. It had been a tragic time for all of them, just before graduation, a sad way to end it. And they'd never really gotten back together. Mary Stuart had never seen Zoe again, although she thought of her sometimes. And Tanya saw them both at different times. None of them had ever been back to a reunion. Berkeley was just too big to make it appealing.

They drove on for the next few hours, and they both read. Mary Stuart had brought a stack of books with her, and Tanya was poring over magazines, and relieved not to find herself in them. And at nine o'clock, they finally rolled into Winnemucca. It was a brassy little town filled with restaurants and casinos along the main drag, which was actually just a piece of the highway. And Tom pulled the bus into the parking lot of the Red Lion Inn, where he had booked a room. Tanya was happier staying on the bus with Mary Stuart, but she wanted to go into the restaurant for dinner, and play some slot machines. It was really more of a coffee shop than a restaurant, but there were fifty or so slot machines, and some blackjack tables.

She put on her boots and the cowboy hat, and a pair of dark glasses. She had brought along a short black wig, but it was hot, and it itched, and she really didn't want to wear it, unless she had to. And she and Mary Stuart stood in the marble bathroom, washing their faces and putting on lipstick. Mary Stuart was looking relaxed and they both laughed about how silly they felt, going gambling together in Winnemucca.

"Listen, kid, this is serious. One of us could hit a jackpot. Just don't tell Tony," Tanya said and winked. She was still amazed at how quickly he could leave her life, and how totally all feelings between them had been canceled. It was as if he had hardly known her. And he was making her so angry these days, that she didn't even miss him. Now and then, she had a flash of nostalgia for him, remembering something they did, but in a minute, remembering the rest, it was over. It had been a mistake, a marriage that should have been an affair. It hurt, but not as much as she had feared when he left her, and that surprised her. She wondered if she was getting callous, or if it had never been what she pretended. It was very strange watching the whole relationship recede into the mists as though it had never existed. The only thing she missed now were his children.

They got off the bus, with Tom watching them, and Tanya told him they'd be fine. He should go relax, gamble, sleep, do whatever he wanted. And he went inside to check in and have dinner. And with that, Tanya and Mary Stuart hurried inside to change two fifty-dollar bills into quarters, and they put the money in a bucket. They had a great time playing the quarter slot machines, making a dollar back here and there, and staring at the people. There were lots of women with blue hair wearing large polyester tops in assorted floral patterns and pastel colors. Most of them had cigarettes hanging from their lips, and the men were playing blackjack and drinking. There were men playing the slot machines too, but there were more women at the slot machines, while the men preferred the poker and blackjack tables. And as Tanya clapped her hands when ten quarters came back to her, a man playing a nearby machine grinned at her, and a minute later, he sidled over. He had long thin legs and no hips, and his jeans seemed to be sliding south. He had a two-day stubble on his face, and rough hands, and he was wearing a cowboy hat not unlike Tanya's.

"How much did you win?" he asked conversationally, and Mary Stuart glanced nervously at Tanya. She was not anxious to get picked up by a drunk in Winnemucca.

"Couple of bucks," she said, ignoring him and frowning, pretending to be intent on the two machines she was playing.

"People ever tell you, you look just like Tanya Thomas, except you're taller and younger."

"Yeah, thanks," she said, never looking him in the eye. Cher had told her that once, that if you never make eye contact they don't recognize you. Sometimes it worked for her, and other times it didn't She was hoping it would this time. "People tell me that all the time. I think she's real short though,"

"That's what I said. You're taller. She's good though. You like her singing?"

"She's all right," Tanya said, slipping into her old Texas drawl, and Mary Stuart tried to keep from laughing. "The stuff she sings is kind of dumb though." She was really pushing it, and she looked unconcerned as she went on playing.

"Naaw, she's good," he argued with her, "I really like her." Tanya shrugged, and a few minutes later he went over to the blackjack table and sat down, and Mary Stuart leaned over and whispered.

"You've got a lot of balls," she said with a broad grin, and Tanya laughed at her and won a twenty-dollar jackpot. So far, between the two of them, they were just about breaking even. They had agreed on the bus that when they lost the hundred dollars, it was over. They would go on however long it lasted.

"That's the only way to do it," Tanya giggled, and a little while later she heard some woman say, "Look, that's Tanya Thomas," but the man who had talked to her said she just looked like her, and was a lot taller, and the woman who had spotted her agreed immediately, and nothing happened. "And younger," Tanya added under her breath, as Mary Stuart pushed her. They were down about fifty dollars by then. And at ten o'clock they walked into the restaurant for a hamburger, and she saw several people stare at them, but Tanya pretended not to notice. The waitress was particularly intent on watching them, but she wasn't quite sure, and she didn't dare ask, and they actually got to eat a meal in peace, which was rare for Tanya. And then they went back to the slot machines till nearly midnight. In the end, they had forty dollars left and split it between them.

"Wow! We won forty dollars," Mary Stuart said happily, as they locked the door of the bus behind them.

"No, dummy." Tanya laughed at her. "We lost sixty. Remember? We started with a hundred."

"Oh," Mary Stuart said, looking momentarily crestfallen, and then they both laughed like kids as they got undressed and got ready to go to bed on the bus. The two long couches in the green sitting room in the rear turned into beds, and there was a good-size table between them.

"You know, you look just like Tanya Thomas!" Mary Stuart drawled at her as Tanya brushed her mane of blond hair in the bathroom. It was like being roommates again in college, and Tanya stuck her chin out. She'd had a small implant put in years before, and a little liposuction just beneath it, which gave her the neck of a very young woman.

"But taller and younger!" they intoned together, laughing still harder.

"And don't forget the 'younger,' "Tanya reminded her. "I paid a fortune for having all this shit done."

"You're hopeless," Mary Stuart said, laughing as she put on her nightgown. She hadn't had this much fun in years, and for the first time in months, she didn't miss Bill at all. Suddenly, she had her own life, and his rejection of her seemed sad but much less important. "You don't look any different than you used to," she said, looking at Tanya carefully in the mirror. But neither did she, and she had done nothing for it.

"That's the whole point," Tanya explained. "What I'd like to know, though, is how come you don't look any different, and you claim you've done nothing. I think you're lying," she teased, but she knew better. Mary Stuart just had great bones, a great face, great genes, and she was a beautiful woman. They both were.

They went to bed chatting like young girls, and they talked until two in the morning with the lights off, and then finally they went to sleep, and didn't wake up until nine the next morning. She had told Tom she'd call him in the hotel when they were ready.

Tanya made coffee in the kitchen, and sweet rolls in the microwave, while Mary Stuart showered. And then Tanya showered afterward, and they were both dressed in blue jeans and cowboy boots by nine-thirty. Neither of them had bothered to put on makeup.

"You know, I never do this," Tanya confessed, looking in the mirror with amazement. She never went out that way in L.A., she couldn't afford to, but here it didn't matter. And it was a real luxury for her to have the freedom to do that. "I'm always afraid I'll run into a photographer somewhere, or a reporter. But here, what the hell," she said, smiling. She felt better just being there, and so did Mary Stuart. They both felt free of their heavy burdens.

And a few minutes later, they walked back into the casino. Tanya had called Tom and told him they were almost ready to get going. They had closed up their beds, and he was going to finish cleaning up for them, and get gas, while the two women went to spend another twenty dollars on the slot machines. And this time they each doubled their money. Their friend of the night before was gone, and in his place were a dozen more like him, but absolutely no one paid any attention to Tanya. Mary Stuart thought it was amazing.

"Maybe you should go out without makeup more often," she said as they boarded the bus. Tom was waiting for them, and he put on another pot of coffee.

"Thanks, Tom," Tanya said when she saw how nice the bus looked. Mary Stuart had to agree with her, she thought it was the only way to travel. She loved it, and she could see why Tom called it a land yacht.

They drove out of Winnemucca shortly after ten, and continued their trek across Nevada all through the afternoon, and when they got to Idaho, the countryside began to look greener. It had been unbelievably barren in the desert. But Idaho was more inviting. And they rolled on doing just what they had before, reading and sleeping and talking. Tanya checked in with her office and returned some phone calls. But for once, there was no crisis. No one wanted anything from her, and there were no new traumas or lawsuits.

"How boring," she teased Jean on the phone when she told her how quiet it was. But Tanya was grateful for the respite. There was only a message from Zoe confirming her flight time. She was going to arrive at Jackson Hole shortly after they did. And a van from the hotel was picking her up at the airport. Tanya figured they'd arrive at the ranch around five-thirty, just in time to change their clothes and have dinner. But she said nothing to Mary Stuart about the message from Zoe, although she was beginning to wonder if she should warn her. But Mary Stuart had been so relaxed on the trip, Tanya hated to spoil it, so she didn't. And for the last few hours of the trip, they both slept, and when they awoke, they were dazzled by the Tetons. They were the most spectacular mountains either of them had ever seen. Mary Stuart just sat and stared at them, and without even realizing it, Tanya starting humming and then singing.

It was a moment neither of them would forget for a lifetime. And as Tanya sang, Mary Stuart reached a hand out to her, and they sat holding hands, as they drove through Jackson Hole, toward Moose, Wyoming.

Chapter 11.

"You have to check our stock of AZT constantly," Zoe warned Sam as he handed her bags to the skycap. "You have no idea how quickly we run out. And I try to give away as many free samples as I can. It's expensive," she said, handing the man a tip and her ticket so he could check her baggage. "And you have to kick the lab constantly. If you let them, they'll take forever. Particularly with the kids, that can be a disaster. You want to know as fast as you can what's happening to their white counts." She was frantic as she got her ticket back and he walked her to the gate. She was frowning as she talked to Sam, and tried to remember all the concerns she had wanted to share with him at the last minute.

"This could come as a shock to you," he said gently, as they went through the metal detector, and then past it. "But I went to medical school. I'm board certified, and I have a license. Honest. I swear." He held up a hand, and she laughed nervously.

"I know, Sam. I'm sorry. I can't help it."

"I know you can't. But you have to try and relax, or you're going to have a heart attack right here, and never get to Wyoming. And I hate doing CPR in places like this. It's so obvious, and it makes me look like an ER doc, instead of a humble locum tenens." He was teasing her, and she wanted to relax, but she just couldn't. She felt so guilty, about leaving all of them and Jade, that she was sorry she was going, and if she could have backed out without feeling like a total jerk, she would have. But she had promised Tanya, and she knew she needed the rest. Otherwise, she would have stayed home and gone to work. She had just gone through the same performance at home with Inge, about instructions for Jade, and when the baby had started crying, Sam almost had to drag her down the stairs with her suitcase.

"I can see why you never go anywhere," he said as they sat down to wait for the plane. He thought she looked pale and he wondered if she was sick again, or just stressed and nervous. Probably a little of both. He was glad she was taking a vacation and he loved doing locum tenens in her practice. He liked working for her too. But he was willing to sacrifice her company for the moment, she was obviously in dire need of some time off.

They had never talked about her personal life again. Ever since their first night out, Zoe had kept the conversation entirely to business. But he still hadn't given up. He had promised to cook dinner for her and Jade when she got back from Wyoming, and she had at least accepted. She saw it as an opportunity for continued friendship. Sam didn't.

"You won't forget to check on Quinn Morrison, will you? I promised him you'd come by every afternoon after the office." He was one of her favorite patients, a sweet man in his seventies, who had contracted AIDS after prostate surgery, and he was doing poorly.

"I swear," Sam promised. She had also left him ten thousand instructions at the office. And as he looked at her with a gentle smile, he put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm also going to check up on your daughter, and make sure your au pair isn't beating her, or having sex in your bedroom while Jade watches Big Bird."

"Oh, God, don't say that," Zoe groaned at the prospect. She hadn't even thought of Inge doing a thing like that, and he laughed at her reaction.

"I'm going to put you on Prozac if you don't stop it. Or at least Valium."

"What a nice idea," she said. Actually, she had just started AZT that week, as a precaution. She was a great believer in doing that prophylactically, even before symptoms, and recommended it to all her patients. She had even told Sam that, in case he saw any new patients. "I really shouldn't have gone on this trip," she said, torturing herself further, and he suggested they go and get a cup of coffee.

"I don't know another human being who deserves it more," he said seriously, as he ordered two cappuccinos. "I'm just sorry you're not going for two weeks instead of one." But they both knew she could never have done it.

"Maybe next year."

"I'm impressed," he teased. "You actually think you might do this again? I figured this was a once-in-a-life-time deal." It might be, but not for the reasons he was thinking, and she didn't say that.

"We'll see." She looked coy then over her coffee. "Depends how much I like it."

"What's not to like.7" He had been to Yellowstone Park once, and absolutely loved it.

"Depends how cute the cowboys are." She was teasing him, and he didn't think he liked it, but he was nonetheless willing to take it from her.

"Oh, great. You tell me you're becoming a nun, and now you're going to Wyoming to chase cowboys. Terrific. See if I cover for you again. Maybe I'll give all your patients placebos."

"Don't you dare!" she laughed.

"I wear cowboy boots too, you know. And I can buy one of those dumb hats, if that's what gets to you. Funny though, I can't see Dick Franklin playing cowboy," he mused, and she laughed at him. He loved to give her a hard time about the illustrious Dr. Franklin. Sam really didn't like him. He thought he was a pompous, pretentious asshole. They had disagreed about surgical treatment for breast cancer at a medical meeting in L.A., and Franklin had treated Sam like a novice. And although he wasn't a surgeon himself, he certainly had valid opinions. But Dick Franklin didn't think so.

"I'll bring you back a cowboy hat," Zoe promised him, and he grinned. She still hadn't convinced him about the validity of her celibacy, and he had every intention of continuing to annoy her about it.

"Just don't bring home a cowboy."

"I'll call you," she said as the plane pulled in. She was flying to Salt Lake City, and then transferring to a smaller plane to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. She had timed it perfectly to arrive at almost the same time as Tanya.

"Say hello to your friend for me. I'd love to meet her sometime."

"I'll tell her to call you," she teased. Everyone in the world wanted to meet Tanya. She was everyone's dream girl. And then suddenly he looked serious as she picked up her bag and got ready to board the aircraft. "Take care of yourself. You need a break, Miss Z. Use this time for yourself. You've earned it." She nodded, touched by the way he looked at her, but unable to respond to him, and then she saw him narrow his eyes with an unspoken question. "I just thought of something. Do you have a medical bag with you?" he asked, looking worried.

"Yeah. Why? I put one in my suitcase, but I checked it. Do you need it?" She looked around, wondering if he had seen something she hadn't. She was usually careful about volunteering her assistance in public, but if she was needed urgently, she always did it. "Is someone hurt?"

"Yeah. You. After I hit you over the head with my shoe. You're on vacation, you dope. I thought you'd do something like that. I want you to leave it in your suitcase."

"Well, I wasn't planning to run around the ranch with it. I just thought I should have it in case something happened." And then she looked at him pointedly and asked him a question. "Are you telling me you don't take one when you go somewhere? I'd feel lost without it." She knew damn well he would too. They all did.

"That's different. I do relief work." He looked mildly embarrassed, and she laughed at him, and then he put an arm around her and pulled her closer, but he knew she would never have let him kiss her. "Just be good to yourself. Forget all of us, if you can. If I really need you, I'll call you."

"Promise you'll do that?" She looked genuinely concerned, and he nodded. It was why she liked leaving her practice in his hands, because he listened, he cared, and he did exactly what she wanted. He didn't try to change the world and turn everything upside down while he was on duty. And he was truly a great doctor, and she knew that. She had always thought he was foolish being satisfied with doing locum tenens.

"I promise you I'll call if anything comes up," he reassured her again. "Promise me you'll get some rest and come back with pink cheeks and a little fatter, even if you do spend all your time chasing cowboys. Get a little sunshine too, and lots of sleep."

"Yes, Doctor." She smiled at him, and she thanked him again for keeping an eye on her practice, and a moment later she walked slowly down the gangway toward the plane. And he waved for as long as he could see her.

He stood watching the plane until it pulled away, and then he walked slowly out of the airport. And almost before he'd reached the door, his beeper went off, and he went to a phone to answer a call from one of her patients. He was off and running. And she was in the air by then, on her way to Wyoming.

The flight to Salt Lake took just over two hours, and she had a two-hour wait then for the next plane, and they had already had a time change. She thought about calling Jade, but she decided it might upset her to hear her voice so soon and not understand where she was. She decided to wait till she got to the ranch instead, and she sat in the airport and drank coffee and read the paper and sat lost in her own thoughts. She so rarely had time to do that. And she mused over the fact that she had heard from Dick Franklin the day before. Much to her surprise, he called her. He had been stunned, and very moved when he got her note. He didn't ask to see her again, but he said that if she needed anything, she should call. He appreciated her honesty, though he wasn't worried, and he assured her that her secret was safe with him. He asked her how it had happened, and she told him, and he said he wasn't surprised. And she had the feeling, when they hung up, that she wouldn't hear from him again. But in her mind, it was just as well. She had no room for him or any man in her life now.

It was a luxury just sitting there on the airplane, without phones, without beepers, without patients, without anyone needing or wanting her, without having to figure out how she could help them. As much as she liked her work, she knew she would really enjoy the vacation. And she really wanted to shore up her energy and her strength. She knew she would need them. She had every intention of continuing her practice till the bitter end. She had already made that decision. She was going to give her patients everything she had to give, until there was nothing left to give them. And Jade too. But she had to figure out what to do about Jade. She had no family to leave her with, and no friends she thought were responsible enough to take good care of her, or else they were people she liked but weren't good with children. She'd been thinking of talking to Tanya, and she had no idea what she'd think of it. But it was a possibility at least. Zoe knew that eventually she had to do something.

The flight to Jackson Hole left on time, and Zoe landed on schedule at exactly five-thirty. She had no idea where Tanya was by then, she knew she was arriving by bus that afternoon. She had planned to reach her at the ranch, and the hotel was sending a van for her. Her bags were among the first ones off, the driver was waiting for her, and everything went smoothly.

The young man who drove the van was wearing jeans, boots, and a cowboy hat, and he looked like everyone else in Wyoming. He was long, lanky, and lean, had short blond hair, he said his name was Tim, and he was from Mississippi. He was attending the University of Wyoming in Laramie, and working at the ranch for the summer. He said he loved it because of the horses. And as he drove her there, he told her about it. But Zoe found she could barely listen to him, she was mesmerized by the mountains. They were the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, and the late afternoon sun shimmered on them in blues and pinks. There was snow at the very top, and they looked like the Swiss Alps to her. She had never seen anything like it.

"They're spectacular, aren't they, ma'am? They kinda take your breath away, don't they?" She agreed with him entirely, and let him rattle on for the half hour it took them to get there. He said he had an uncle who was a doctor too, he was an orthopedist and he'd set Tim's arm once. Did it real good too, because when he rode in the rodeo last year, the arm he'd broken before hadn't bothered him at all, but he'd broken the other one, and his leg too. But he was riding again this year. The story definitely had local color.