The Ranch

Mary Stuart and Hartley chatted for a while, about books, and New York, the literary scene, other authors, and Europe, when she said her daughter was studying in Paris. They seemed to touch on a wealth of subjects, and they were both surprised when the wrangler turned slowly around and led them back to the corral. It was lunchtime. Hartley and Mary Stuart were still chatting when they dismounted. And she noticed an odd look on Tanya's face when she got off Big Max and handed the reins to the wrangler.

“Are you okay?” she asked as Tanya walked over to join them, and she introduced her to Hartley.

“I'm fine. But our wrangler is really strange. He absolutely would not say one word to me. We just rode out, and then back. He acted like I had bubonic plague or something. He hates me.” Mary Stuart laughed at her analysis of the situation. She had never met a man who hated Tanya, certainly not at first meeting.

“Maybe he's shy,” Mary Stuart volunteered. He looked pleasant enough. He just wasn't very chatty.

“A lot of them are,” Hartley explained. “The first few days they barely say hello, and by the time you leave, you feel like brothers. They're not used to all this big-city stuff, and they're not as chatty as we are,” he said, and Tanya looked at him with a smile.

“I thought I'd said something to offend him.” Tanya looked slightly worried.

“I suspect Liz told him to behave himself with you, not to say too much. It's got to be pretty impressive for these guys to be around a big star like you,” he grinned and looked like a kid then, gray hair and all, “it even makes me tremble a little. I have all your CD's, Miss Thomas, and I love them.”

“I've read your books, and I like them too.” She smiled at him. It always amazed her when someone important was impressed with her. She never completely understood it. “I like them a lot.” They both looked shy with each other, uncomfortable with their own success to a degree. Each of them were stars in their own right. He seemed much more at ease with Mary Stuart than with Tanya, and then Zoe joined them, saying she'd had a great morning. She'd really enjoyed talking to the two doctors. And Mary Stuart introduced her to Hartley.

“What's your specialty?” he asked amiably as they wandered back toward their cabins to wash up before lunch.

“AIDS,” she said simply, “and related problems. I run a clinic in San Francisco.” He nodded. He'd been thinking about doing a book about it, but he'd been dragging his feet about doing the research. It seemed so depressing. But he was obviously fascinated by what she did, and asked her a great many questions. And he seemed sorry to leave them at their cabin, and said he'd see them at lunchtime. He went off on his own, head down, looking pensive, as he walked toward his cabin, and Tanya watched him.

“What an interesting man,” Tanya commented as they walked into their home away from home, and she took her scarf off. It had gotten hot since that morning.

“He's crazy about your music,” Mary Stuart said encouragingly. She would have loved to see Tanya with someone like Hartley, although she had to admit they didn't seem to have a lot in common. Hartley was very smooth and very Eastern, intellectual but worldly somehow, and very polished. Tanya was so much more exuberant and sensual, not wild, but so alive. Mary Stuart thought she needed someone more powerful to tame her, or at least make her happy.

“He may be crazy about my music,” Tanya said wisely, better versed in the ways of the world than Mary Stuart, “but he likes you, kiddo. It's written all over him. He couldn't take his eyes off you.”

“That's bullshit. He's intrigued by all three of us. You know, kind of like Charlie's Angels.”

“I'll bet you money he comes on to you before you leave here,” Tanya said with total certainty, and Zoe rolled her eyes at both of them and washed her hands in the kitchen.

“You two are disgusting. Is that all you think about? Dating?”

“Yeah,” Tanya said with a mischievous grin. “Sex. Read the tabloids.” But they all knew better. Tanya had always been, and still was, very moral. Perhaps even more so than the others, and she'd always been monogamous, even in college. “I'm telling you what I see. The guy is crazy about Mary Stuart.”

“How crazy can he be? I just met him this morning.”

“Well, his wife died a couple of years ago, right? So he's got to be horny as hell, so watch out for him, Stu. He could be a wild man.” Mary Stuart and Zoe were both laughing at her, as she pinned her thick blond hair up on her head without looking and instantly looked even sexier than she had at breakfast.

“Why don't you wear a bag over your head or something?” Mary Stuart said in disgust. “I don't know why I bother to comb my hair when you look like that without looking in the mirror.”

“Yeah, and look how much good it does me. Even the wrangler won't give me the time of day. Christ, I thought the guy's lips had been sewed shut. He never said one word to me. What an asshole.”