“Tell you what,” he said honestly, “we ever make a go of it, and I'll give up the bulls and broncs.”
“I'll hold you to it,” she said softly, and then she wanted to be honest with him too, “but I can't give up concerts, Gordon. That's how I make my living.”
“I know that. I wouldn't expect you to. I just don't want you to do some two-bit thing to be nice to them, and get hurt. It's just not worth it. They don't deserve it.”
“I know,” she sighed, looking up at him. It was hard to believe they were having this conversation, negotiating their future, what they would each give up and what they wouldn't. But there was no harm done, if it ever happened. “I just like to sing for the hell of it sometimes, without the promoters and the contracts and the hype and all the bullshit. It's fun to just do it.”
“Then sing for me,” he smiled.
“I'd love that.” There was an old Texas song she would have loved to sing for him. She had sung it as a kid at high school dances, and it had gotten popular since, but she had always thought of it as her song. “I will one day.”
“I'll hold you to that too.” There were a lot of promises floating between them.
They all stood around and talked for a while, and then Mary Stuart and Tanya took Zoe back to the cabin. Gordon had promised to show up later, if he could. He said he would just tap on her bedroom window. She told him which one it was, and then they left, and Hartley walked them back, and then sat outside with Mary Stuart. Tanya and Zoe were inside the cabin chatting.
Mary Stuart told him about the call from Bill before dinner, and he looked at her thoughtfully while she told him,
“He's probably realizing what he's missed, and what he's given up for all these months,” he said, thinking about it, and looking at her. “What are you going to do if he wants to fix it?”
“I can't imagine it,” she said honestly, “but I realized something when I talked to him tonight. I don't want to do that. I can't go back again. We can't undo the last year, or what happened to Todd. I don't think I'll ever forgive him for how he's behaved. That's a nasty thing to say, and it's mean-spirited of me, but to be honest with you, I think he killed it.”
“And if he didn't? If he comes back and tells you how much he loves you and how wrong he was, what then?” He wanted her to think about that before they made a mistake. They were both extremely attracted to each other, but they were being very cautious, and that was just what he wanted. He didn't want to get decimated either.
“I don't know, Hartley. I'm not sure. I think I know. I believe it's all over for me. I suppose there are no guarantees until I see him. I think I'll be sure then.”
“Why are you waiting until September for that?” It was a question she had been asking herself lately too. Originally, she had thought she needed time, and she was glad she'd have the summer in which to think. But ever since she'd been here, she realized that she was ready to tackle it now. It had even occurred to her that she might fly to London to talk to Bill, and she said as much to Hartley.
“I think that's a good idea,” he said gently, “if you feel ready for it. I don't want to push you.” They had known each other for five days, and it had been an extraordinary experience for both of them, but it was possible that it was all a dream, an illusion, or maybe it was real and something very special. Only time would tell. But first, she had to deal with her husband. Neither of them wanted to do anything confusing before she did that. And as tempting as it was to just fall into bed with each other, she knew they wouldn't.
“I'm going to Los Angeles with Tanya when I leave here. I was going to stay a week, but she's busy anyway.” She was thinking out loud and sharing it with him. “I think I'll stay for a few days, and then fly to London. I came here to think, and to decide what I wanted. And I knew the moment I came here. I think I knew before that.” She had known when she left her apartment in New York that she would never live there the same way again. She had been saying good-bye to her old life when she left it, and she knew that, and she said as much to Hartley.
“There's something about these mountains that gives you the answers to many things. I missed coming here after Meg died.” He smiled at Mary Stuart then and took her hand in his. “It would be amazing if I found my new life here, if I came here to find you,” and then he looked at her sadly, “but even if nothing comes of this, if you go back to him, I want you to know how happy you've made me. You've shown me that I'm not as alone as I think I am, that there is someone out there who can make me fall in love again. You're a beautiful gift I never expected, you're a vision of what life can be when two people love each other and are happy.” He was exactly the same for her. He was living proof that there was someone in the world who cared about her, that she could talk to easily, and who could love her. And she didn't want to give that up now. He wasn't asking her to, but he wanted her to be sure of what she wanted to do about her husband before moving toward him. Mary Stuart felt certain she had made her mind up.
“I don't think seeing him is going to change anything,” she said gently, holding Hartley's hand in her own and kissing it. He was so dear to her, she had grown so fond of him in such a short time, and they felt incredibly protective about each other. But they also knew that she needed to prove to herself what she still felt for Bill and what she didn't. And Hartley didn't want to rush her, but she insisted he wasn't.
“It was so strange when he called me tonight. It was like talking to a total stranger. I didn't even recognize him at first, nor him me, and I couldn't figure out why he was calling. It's sad to feel so far away from someone you once loved. I never thought it would happen to us.”
“You weathered one of life's cruelest blows,” he said sympathetically. “Most marriages don't survive it. The statistics are staggering. I think it's something like ninety-seven percent of people who lose children get divorced. You have to be awfully strong to withstand that,” he said kindly.
“And I guess we weren't.”
“I love being with you, Mary Stuart,” he said, smiling at her, and changing the subject. He wanted to move ahead with her, to be in New York with her, to go to Europe with her, to share his friends and his life and his career. There was so much he wanted to do with her, and he was anxious to get started. He had been alone for two years, but he knew he had to wait a little longer. She had to go to London to see her husband. But once she'd gone, if she was sure, the possibilities were limitless, and he knew that. There was nothing else left to hold them back from each other, although he was still a little bit concerned about her daughter. He had never had children of his own, and he wondered if Alyssa would resist him, if she would blame him for the divorce, and choose to hate him out of loyalty to her father. In fact, the divorce wouldn't have been because of him, but it might be hard for her to accept that. He had spoken to Mary Stuart about it that afternoon, and she admitted that she and Alyssa would have to do some very serious talking. But on the other hand, she wasn't willing to stay with her father just for her. Alyssa had to make her own life. And as Mary Stuart saw it, her own life was better than half over, this was her last chance possibly to make a life with a person she could really care about and who loved her. She wasn't going to let the chance pass her by out of loyalty to something she no longer had with a man who could no longer love her. She wanted to be with Hartley. They sat together for a long time, talking about the past, the present, and the future. And it was all agreed. She would go to London the week after they all left Wyoming. She didn't think she'd stay in London for more than a few days, possibly less if Bill didn't want to discuss it further. And she might try to meet up with Alyssa somewhere for a day. She wasn't sure if she would tell her yet, unless Bill thought they should, otherwise she thought telling Alyssa her parents were getting divorced could wait until September. But she just wanted to see her, if Mary Stuart could even find her on her trek around Europe. And then she would go home again, and get her life organized. She had no idea what Bill would want to do with the apartment. If he would want to keep it, or sell it, if he wanted to live in it, or thought she should. But she had already made her mind up about that too. She didn't want to live there. It was all too painful, and a constant reminder of tragedy every time she passed Todd's room. Whether or not his things were there made no difference. She knew he had once lived there, knew exactly where the Princeton banner had been, and the trophies, and the teddy bear on his bed when he was little. His things were put away now, and it was time for them to put their things away too. It was time for a whole new life for all of them, and hopefully, if she was very lucky, and the Fates were kind to her, hers would be with Hartley.
“Would you like to come to Fisher's Island with me when you get back?” he asked cautiously. “I have a funny old house there. I haven't been there much since Margaret died, but I thought I'd spend some time there in August.” She looked at him gratefully then, and nodded. He had his ghosts too, his old haunts, his routines. They both did.
“I'd love that. I didn't really know what to do with myself this year, with Bill away for so long. I was going to go out and see friends in East Hampton.”
“Come and stay with me then,” he said, nuzzling her neck. He wanted nothing more than to wake up next to her, to listen to the ocean and make love to her all afternoon and all night and all morning, and talk into the wee hours, and share his favorite books with her. He had already discovered that she was a passionate reader and they loved almost all the same authors. He had some wonderful first editions he wanted to share with her. He wanted to walk down the beach holding her hand, and tell her all his secrets. But they had already shared most of them, riding through the wildflowers across the foothills and the valleys of Wyoming. It was already wonderful, and it could only get better.
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