The Ranch

“I don't believe you,” he said, looking more relaxed with her than he had the previous morning. He had hardly dared to speak to her for most of the day before. This was a lot better. While he chatted with her, he was fun to ride with. “You're from Texas,” he said approvingly. It said something about her, as far as he was concerned. People from Texas didn't hate horses. “And you're just a regular woman.” The funny thing was that she was just that, and he knew it. It was what she had been with Bobby Joe, and Hollywood had screwed it all up, and it was what she had tried to be with Tony. But Tony had wanted a movie star, with none of the problems that went with it. He wanted something that, even with the best of intentions, she just couldn't give him.

“I am a regular woman, but the world I live in doesn't give me much chance to be. I don't have much of a life, to tell you the truth, and I never will now. I hate that, but that's the way it is. The press will never let me have a real life. And even the people who meet me won't. They want you to be what they think you are, and then when they get close to you, they want to hurt you.” Even talking about it, it sounded crazy.

“It sounds awful,” he said, watching her with interest. He was surprised at how much he liked her. He hadn't wanted to, but she was completely different than he'd expected. He had done everything he could not to be her wrangler, and now he was glad Liz hadn't listened to him. She was actually pleasant to be with.

“It is awful,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I think it'll kill me. Maybe it will one day, or a fan will.” She said it so sadly that he shook his head as he listened.

“How can you live like that? I don't care what they pay you, it's not worth it,” he said, as their horses began loping.

“It's not the money. Not entirely. It's what I do. That's my life. I sing. You can't go backward, you can't hide. If I want to do what I do, then I have to put up with all that.”

“It doesn't seem right.”

“It's not, but that's reality.” She didn't like it, but she knew there was nothing she could do to change it. “Other people hold all the trump cards.”

“There's got to be some way to change it, or to live with it, to give yourself a decent life. Other movie stars get away from it, they buy ranches and go places where they can live decent. You ought to do that, Miss Tanya.” He really meant it, and she smiled at him, as their horses slowed down again, and Gordon watched her with admiration. She was a great rider.

“Don't call me that,” she scolded him when he called her Miss Tanya, “just Tanya is fine.” They were almost friends now, enough so to talk about her life. It was like what Mary Stuart had experienced with Hartley. One found oneself talking about the oddest things here. One's hopes and one's dreams, and one's disappointments. It was as though the mountains did something strange and put everything into fast forward.

Hartley was talking seriously to Mary Stuart too, and apologizing if he had overstepped his bounds the night before. When he got back to his cabin, he had been afraid that he might have frightened her by being too forward. They had only just met, and yet he felt so close to her, but she had felt exactly the same thing, and rather than being frightened, she had derived great comfort from it. No one had put their arms around her in a year and she was starving for it. She didn't say exactly that to him, but he understood very clearly as they rode along that she hadn't in any way been offended by his behavior, far from it. And it was a great relief to him, as their horses stopped for a moment and took a drink from a little stream, as he looked at her, and she was smiling. It was magical just being there, and they both felt it.

“All I could think about this morning when I got up was seeing you,” he said, with a boyish grin. “I haven't felt that way in years, I don't even feel like working. And for me that's rare, believe me.” He wrote daily, no matter where he was or how he felt, or what the conditions of his life were. The only time he hadn't written was when Margaret was dying. He had found then that he just couldn't.

“I know exactly how you feel. It's funny how just when you think your life is over, it all begins again. Life always fools you, doesn't it? When you think you have it all, you lose everything, and when you think ail is lost, you find something infinitely precious,” Mary Stuart said thoughtfully, looking at the mountains.