The Ranch (50 page)

“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.

“Don't even come back if you can save your marriage,” he said wistfully. “Margaret and I almost divorced once. I had an affair when we'd been married for about ten years. It was very stupid of me, and I never did it any other time. I don't know what happened, we'd been having problems, we were dealing with the fact that she couldn't have children then and it was very difficult for her. She kind of went crazy for a while, and she put a lot of distance between us. I think she blamed me, as much as herself, because she couldn't get pregnant. Whatever the reason, I did it, and she found out. We were separated for six months because of it, and I continued the affair, which was even more stupid. By then I thought I was in love with her, and it was even more complicated. She was French, and I was in Paris with her. I went to New York to tell Margaret I was going to divorce her. But when I got there, I found that everything I had always loved about her was still there, and so were all the things I didn't like as well, and all the reasons why I had cheated on her in the first place. She had all the inadequacies, the neuroses, the irrationalities that made her difficult, and all the things I adored about her as well, her honesty, her loyalty, her creativity, her wonderful sense of humor, her bright mind, her discretion, her sense of fairness. There were a million things I loved about her.” He had tears in his eyes when he said it, and so did Mary Stuart. “When I went back to New York to say good-bye to Margaret, I fell in love with her all over again.” He took a breath and looked out over the mountains. “I never went back to the woman in Paris. She knew when I left that it would happen that way. She'd said so. We had worked out a code. She said she couldn't bear long explanations, and she didn't want them. Two words would do. If I'd worked it out with Margaret to leave her, all I had to do was write, ‘
Bonjour
, Arielle’ in a telegram. That was a long time ago,” he smiled, “before faxes. And if Margaret and I got back together, ‘Adieu, Arielle’ would do it. She was extremely down-to-earth, and very much no-nonsense. I left for New York promising her she had nothing to worry about, and met my Delilah, she chopped off my hair, won my heart, and I never left her side again… the telegram read ‘Adieu, Arielle.’ And I never saw her again. That was what she wanted. But I never forgot her.” It was a sad story and it touched Mary Stuart. “If that happens with us, Mary Stuart,” he looked into her eyes and meant every word of it, “I want you to know that I won't regret this for a moment, and I will love you forever. I will move on, and I will recover. Arielle married a very important minister, and she became a very successful writer, but I'm sure she never forgot me. I never forgot her.” He smiled wickedly then. “Margaret never forgot her either. I never quite lived that down, but I think she forgave me. It was an awful mess for a while when it first happened. But I just want you to know I won't regret this, it's been the happiest two weeks of my life here with you.” And she had finally helped him get over losing Margaret. He was feeling much better.

“It's been the happiest two weeks of my life too,” she said. “And I won't forget you either. But I don't think I'll stay with Bill, Hartley, I really don't.” And she truly meant it.

“You never know what will happen between two people. See what happens when you talk to him. If I had left Margaret then, I would have missed sixteen more years with her, and they were great ones. Be open to whatever happens. That's the fairest thing I can tell you.”

“I shall always love you,” she said softly.

“And I you. That's what you can send me in the fax then.” He had found the code they'd been seeking. “‘ Adieu, Arielle,’ or
“Bonjour
, Arielle,’ to let me know what happens.”

“It'll be
‘Bonjour
, Arielle,’ “she said, looking certain as they rode back to the stables with the wrangler standing in for Gordon.

And as they rode, Zoe was having coffee with John Kroner. They had become fast friends in the two weeks she'd been there. She'd gone to the hospital to see him several times, and he loved coming to the ranch to see her. He had promised to visit her in San Francisco.

“There's a patient I'll want to consult you about soon,” he was saying. “I just started him and his lover on AZT. He's HIV positive, they both are, but so far they're both asymptomatic.”

“You're doing the right thing then. You don't need me,” she smiled comfortably at him. She was sure Sam would like him too, and she was anxious to introduce them. Sam had been calling her daily, more to talk about them than her practice. And she found she liked it. “You're doing a great job with your patients,” she encouraged John again, and thanked him for his help when she wasn't feeling well. “You know,” she said philosophically, “I have so much empathy for them now,” she was referring to her patients. “I used to think I understood what it was like for them, hearing that death sentence and then waiting for it to strike them. I felt it so much for them. But I still didn't really understand it.” She looked right at him so intensely. “I never knew until it happened to me,” she touched his hand then, “you don't know what it's like, John. You can't imagine.”

“Yes, I can,” he said quietly. “I'm HIV positive too. I'm the patient I just mentioned. We both are. And when we start getting sick, I want to come to you for a consultation,” he said matter-of-factly, and she looked stunned. She didn't know why she was, but she hadn't expected it. He had AIDS, and so did his lover.

“I'm so sorry.”

“It's all right,” he said philosophically, “we're all in this together.” There were tears in Zoe's eyes when she hugged him.

They all had a quiet night that night. Hartley and Mary Stuart spent hours talking, Zoe was on the phone with Sam in her room, and Tanya was at the cabin with Gordon. They were all talking about their plans, their dreams, the things that had happened at the ranch, and how much they wanted to come back here. It had been magical for all of them. And Tanya and Gordon were talking about their plans for the ranch she had just bought. They had all but forgotten the tabloids. He had talked to Charlotte that afternoon, and he was coming to see Tanya in L.A. the following weekend. This was the beginning. And they were both excited about all of it. There was so much Tanya wanted to share with him. He wanted to walk down Sunset Boulevard, see the Pacific, meet her friends, see the studio where she rehearsed and recorded, she wanted to spend the weekend with him in Malibu, walk down the beach with him, and take him to Spago. They were going to do all of it if they could, and two weeks later, she would be flying back to Wyoming to see him.