Danielle Steel - The Ranch

“No, it isn't. I made my peace with Adam's death a long time ago. Sam, trust me, let's be friends. Besides,” she smiled gently at him and touched his hand, “believe me, I'm hard to get along with.”

“You certainly are,” he said as he started the car. She had completely tantalized him, and he hadn't expected that. He had been attracted to her for years, but his feelings had always been in check, and had long since settled into an easy friendship. He had never expected to be completely bowled over by her, and then find that the door behind which she hid had been locked and sealed forever. The very thought of it drove him crazy. And as he drove her home, he kept glancing at her, she was so peaceful and beautiful, she seemed almost luminous as she sat there. She was like a young saint, and he knew just looking at her that she had a remarkable spirit. He kept trying to remind himself that you can't always have everything you want in life, but it seemed incredibly unfair when he thought about Zoe. And when they reached her house, he came around and opened the door for her, and she seemed almost waiflike as he helped her out, and her arm in his hand felt like a child's as he held it.

“Try to fatten up a little at the ranch,” he said with a look of concern, “you need it.”

“Yes, Doctor,” she said, looking up at him with tenderness in her eyes. She almost wished that things could have been different. “I had a wonderful time. You'll have to come and have dinner with Jade and me when I get back. I make a great hot dog.”

“Maybe I should take the two of you out to dinner.” He smiled, wishing he could pull her out from her fortress. He could sense more than anything else about her that she was hiding. He didn't know why, but he could see it in her eyes, and try as he might he couldn't reach her. But he had, more than he knew that night, so much so that she was frightened of him.

“I had a lovely time. Thanks, Sam.”

“So did I, Zoe… and I'm sorry if I pressed you.” He was afraid he might have driven her into hiding even further.

“It's all right. I understand.” She understood more than she wanted to, and she was flattered and touched but unmoved by it. Her own resolve was still stronger.

‘I'm not sure you do understand. I'm not sure I do,” he said sadly. “I've been wanting to do this for a long time. Since medical school actually. Maybe I just waited too long.” He looked unhappy as he stood there.

“Don't worry about it, Sam. It's all right,” she said, and patted his arm, and he walked her slowly to her door. And as they stood there he wished he could kiss her. He wasn't coming to the clinic the next day, but she knew she would see him again before she took off, and she took comfort in that. If nothing else, they could at least occasionally work together.

“I'll see you in a few days,” he said, and kissed the top of her head, and then as she opened the door, he ran swiftly down the steps back to his car, and then he stood there and watched her go in. She turned, and their eyes met for one last time, and then she waved and went inside. And a moment later, she heard his car drive away, and inside the car, he looked dazed by the power of what he was feeling. The evening had been nothing like what he'd expected. But neither was Zoe. And despite all he felt for her, and their old friendship, more than ever, she was a mystery to him.

The day Mary Stuart left New York she stood for a last time in her living room and looked around her apartment. The shades were drawn, the curtains were closed, the air-conditioning was off, and the apartment was slowly warming up. For the past week there had been a tremendous heat wave. She had talked to Alyssa in Holland the night before, she was having a fantastic time traveling with five friends, and Mary Stuart suspected she was having her first really serious romance. She was happy for her, and still more than a little sad to have missed their opportunity to travel around Europe together.

She had spoken to Bill several times too. He was working hard, and he sounded startled when she told him she was going to Wyoming. He couldn't understand why and thought she should go to Martha's Vineyard, or the Hamptons to stay with their friends, as she had on the Fourth. He had never really approved of her friendship with Tanya Thomas. And he didn't see why she wanted to go to a dude ranch. He never thought she had any particular affinity for horses. He said all the things which, years before, would have made her reconsider, but this time did not affect her. She wanted to spend two weeks at the ranch with Tanya. She wanted to be with her friend, to talk to her, and look up at the mountains in the morning. She suddenly realized that she needed to get away and reevaluate her life, and if he didn't understand that, then that was his problem. He was in London for two months and didn't want her with him, and he had no right now to make her feel uncomfortable about what she was doing. He had given up that right when he had told her he didn't want her in London with him. He had given up a lot of things that year, intentionally and otherwise, and she wanted to do some serious thinking about it. She couldn't imagine coming back to their relationship the way it had been, the way it had become. She couldn't live in the airless, loveless, joyless atmosphere he had created. And even though the night before he left she had caught a glimpse of him again, there was no promise that she would find him again at the end of the summer. Or ever again for that matter.

She was beginning to realize that what they had once had was gone, very probably forever. And she doubted if what had been left in its place was worth keeping. She couldn't believe what she was thinking. But she couldn't imagine going back to him, couldn't think about living with him that way again, never speaking, holding, touching. They had lost their dreams, their lives, more than just Todd had died. In many ways, she felt they had. And going to Wyoming was a way of leaving what had been, and trying to figure out what was still possible between them. And for an odd moment, as she looked around, she felt as though she were leaving their old life forever. It would never be the same again. She would never come back to the man who had left her so bereft and so abandoned for the past year. Either she would come back to the man she had once known, or she wasn't coming back at all. And in either case she wanted to think about whether or not to tell Bill to sell the apartment. But nothing was ever going to be the same again, nor had it been for the past year, and she knew it.

The prospect of being on her own again at her age was a frightening one. But the thought of being alone with him, in the tomb he had created for both of them, was an even worse fate. She walked down the long hall, and stopped for a long moment in front of the room that had been Todd's. The curtains were gone, the bedspreads were out being cleaned. It had all been put away, and there was nothing left of him. What she still had was in her heart and her memories. He was free now.

She picked her suitcase up again and walked slowly down the hall, thinking about him… and about Bill… and Alyssa, how happy they had once been, and how different it all was now. The cruel hand of fate, with a quick flick of the wrist, the dream was over. It had all ended so quickly. It was strange to think about it now. She felt as though she had been treading water in icy seas for a long time, she had almost drowned, but she was beginning to move forward again, still frozen, still numb, injured and bruised, but she was beginning to think she might not drown after all. There was the very faintest chance now that she might make it. And as she stood in the doorway with the keys in her hand, she wanted to say good-bye to someone… her husband… her child… the life they had once shared here. “I love you,” she said softly into the empty hall, not sure which of them she meant, Bill or Todd… or the life they had shared together. And then, with a last look, she closed the door softly behind her.

The doorman put her in a cab downstairs, and she reached Kennedy Airport just under an hour later. And the flight to Los Angeles was uneventful.

When Tanya left her house, it was in a flurry of activity. She had packed six bags, two boxes full of hats, and nine pairs of cowboy boots in assorted shades of alligator and lizard. Her housekeeper was putting bags of food on the bus, and she had bought a dozen new videos to keep them entertained on the trip across Nevada and Idaho. It was a long, boring ride, she'd been told, and she'd even brought half a dozen new scripts to look at. She was currently being offered parts in several new movies.

It was eleven o'clock and Mary Stuart's plane was coming in at twelve-thirty. But she wanted to make one last stop before they left, for a little more food at Gelsen's. The bus was already fully stocked, but she wanted to pick up just a few final goodies.

The driver was waiting patiently outside as she kissed her dog good-bye, thanked her housekeeper, reminded her about the security, grabbed her hat, her handbag, her address book, and ran up the steps of the bus, with her hair flying loose, looking sensational in a white T-shirt and skin-tight blue jeans, and her oldest pair of bright yellow cowboy boots. She had bought them in Texas on her sixteenth birthday, and they looked it. She had worn them all through college, and everyone who knew her knew how much she loved them.

“Thanks, Tom,” she said, waving to the driver as she got on, and he began slowly maneuvering the giant vehicle through her gates, and down her narrow driveway. The bus was huge, and it was divided into two huge rooms. A living room all done in teak and navy blue velvet, with comfortable easy chairs, two couches, and a long table that seated eight, and a series of small groups set for conversation. The back room was done in forest green, and transformed easily from another sitting room into a bedroom. And between the two was a large, functional kitchen, and a white marble bathroom. She had bought the bus years before when she had her first platinum record. It looked very much like a yacht, or a very large private plane, and it had been almost as expensive.