“Come on, Tan, run!” He shouted at her, pulling her along, as the others tried to follow. He had parked his truck as close as he could to the crowd when he saw what was happening, and left the engine running, and her feet pounded as hard as they could on the rough ground, as four marshals on horseback galloped past them. But they had reached Gordon's truck by then, and he pushed her inside, leaped into the driver's seat, and took off, nearly running over half a dozen people and several horses. But he didn't stop for anything. There was literally a riot behind them. He kept his foot on the accelerator until they were a mile away, and then he pulled over and stopped to look at her. They were both shaking.

“Thank you,” she said in a trembling voice. She was shaking from head to foot. It had been awful. It had been one of the most dangerous situations she'd been in recently, because the crowd was uncontrolled and she didn't have adequate security to help her. If he hadn't been there, she might have gotten killed, or badly hurt, and they both knew it. “I think you saved my life,” she said, trying not to cry as he took a deep breath and looked at her, wanting desperately to protect her.

“Don't tell me saddle broncs are more dangerous than that. Give me some mean son of a bitch horse any day compared to that stuff. What happens to people? Those are perfectly normal folks out for a Saturday night at the rodeo. They take one look at you and they go nuts. What is that?”

“Crowd craze. I don't know. They want to own you, even if they have to tear you apart to do it, even if they come back with just a piece of you, a shirt, a piece of hair, an ear, a finger.” Her head hurt, so many people had pulled her hair trying to get a piece of it to save. It was truly an insane business. She was smiling, but neither of them thought it was funny. She had hated leaving Mary Stuart and Hartley to fend for themselves, but she couldn't help them and she knew the police would.

“It was those goddamn photographers,” Gordon said, putting an arm around her and pulling her close to him. She had just told him about the pulled hair and he couldn't believe it. “If they'd let you through, you could have gotten on the bus and you'd have been okay. But those assholes put up a roadblock so they could get a story.”

“Well, they got one. A lot better one than just asking me if I got paid to do the anthem.”

“Shit,” he said, shaking his head. He could just see the headline. TANYA THOMAS CAUSES RIOT IN WYOMING. He could see now how her life got out of hand so easily. He wondered how she stood it. “Is this worth it to you, Tan?” he asked, looking at her, he honestly wondered why she did it.

“I don't know,” she shrugged, “sometimes. It's what I do. I used to say I was going to retire, but I don't want to let them win. Why let them stop me from what I want to do just because they make my life miserable?”

“Yeah, that's true. But maybe you need to rethink this. You got to protect yourself somehow.”

“I do. At home I've got security and barbed wire, electric gates, cameras, dogs, all that stuff,” she said as though it were normal.

“Sounds like Texas State Prison. I mean something else, some way that people aren't going to rip your hair out of your head every time you go buy yourself an ice cream.” He was deeply impressed by what he'd just seen and more sympathetic than she knew. As far as he was concerned, it was inhuman.

“Can you get me to a phone?” she asked then, looking worried. She wanted to call Tom on the bus, and let him know she was all right and hadn't been abducted by a stranger. She'd been kidnapped by a friend, she smiled at him, and told him what she thought when she first felt his arm around her. He had been so powerful she knew she had no hope of resisting.

“Poor kid. All I wanted to do was get you out of there as fast as I could.”

“And you did,” she said gratefully as he stopped at a 7-Eleven. He watched carefully as she used the phone, to make sure no one had recognized her, and Tom answered on the first ring. Hartley, Mary Stuart, and the police were waiting with him. They knew that if she was okay, she'd call the bus, and Hartley had suspected that it was Gordon who had taken her, but he hadn't wanted to say it. They had said only that she had friends at the rodeo, and they were hoping she had gone with them. Mary Stuart was immensely relieved to hear her.

“Are you all right?” she asked, still shaking herself. It had been a horrible experience even for them, and it reminded all of them of how difficult Tanya's life was.

“P'm fine. I look a mess, but nothing's broken. It just scared me. I'm really sorry, Stu. Is Hartley mad?” It was a miserable experience to go through. When she was single, before she and Tony were married, there were guys who wouldn't go out with her, because they said trying to take her to a movie was like college wrestling.

“Of course not,” Mary Stuart said, incensed, “not at you. He's furious at the press for what they did. He said he's going to call the owner of the paper and the local news station tomorrow.”

“Tell him not to bother. I'm not even sure they were local. Someone may have tipped off the wire services, or cable TV. I didn't see where they were from. It doesn't make any difference. They won't do anything about it anyway. How bad does the bus look?” Mary Stuart looked around, still upset by what they'd done. The fans had grabbed ashtrays, cushions, broken some plates, torn the curtains down, but none of it couldn't be repaired. The driver said something to her and she repeated it to Tanya.

“Tom said it's as bad as Santa Fe, but not nearly as bad as Denver or Las Vegas. Does this happen to you regularly?” Mary Stuart looked even more aghast at the list of comparisons. Poor Tanya, what a nightmare.

“It happens,” Tanya said quietly. “I'll see you later,” but Gordon touched her arm then.

“Don't make any promises,” he said softly, blushing faintly. He would have suggested going to a roadhouse just for a drink so they could relax, but he didn't dare. He really wanted to take her to his place to unwind, so they could talk and sit by a fire. He didn't want to sit outside with her tonight. She'd been through too much, he wanted to take her home and put his arms around her. And who knew what might happen. Tanya read volumes in his eyes and nodded with a smile.

“Don't worry about me. I might be home late. I'm in good hands.”

Mary Stuart knew Tanya was with Gordon. “See you tomorrow then?” she teased, and Tanya laughed.

“You never know. Give Zoe my love and tell her she picked a good night to stay home. And tell Hartley again how sorry I am.”

“Stop apologizing. We're sorry for you. And thank our friend for me. He did a good job.”

“He's a good man.” Tanya smiled at him as she stood in the phone booth.

“I think so,” Mary Stuart said softly. “Take care of yourself, Tan. We love you.”

“I love you too, Stu. Good night,” she said, and hung up, and then turned to him and he put his arms around her. He just stood there holding her, and then he put her in his truck, and drove her home to the little cabin behind the corral. He drove in as quietly as he could and turned the lights off, and they sat there for a moment. It had been quite a night for both of them, and Tanya was still feeling shaken. His bronco ride had been nothing compared to what came later.

“Are you okay, Tanny?” he asked gently.

“Yeah. I think so.” They were about a quarter mile from her cabin, but she had no desire to go there. “Stuff like that always shakes me up for a while.”

“Do you want to come in?” he asked. He would have understood if she didn't, if she wanted to go home and go to bed. But he wanted to be with her, and even though this wasn't allowed, it was better than being seen coming out of her cabin. He would have lost his job in either case if someone saw them together, but Gordon had decided days before that he thought she was worth it, “You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Tanny,” he said kindly. “I'll take you back up to the cabin if you like.”

“I'd like to come in,” she said quietly. She wanted to see where he lived, what he had, what he liked, she just wanted to be with him.

“I think everyone's out, but we need to be kind of quiet about it.” She knew how much trouble he'd be in if someone saw them, and she worried about it. The other cabins were nearby, although his was less accessible than most. But she didn't want anyone to see them.

“Is this all right for you?” she asked with worried eyes, and he smiled the smile that tore her heart out.

“About as all right as it gets,” he said, and then got out of the truck, and strode quickly into his cabin. She followed him in and he locked the door, pulled down the shades and turned on the lights, and she was surprised at how orderly it was, and how pleasant. She had expected it to look a lot rougher and a lot more disheveled. The cabin itself, as it had been provided to him, was nicely decorated, with a denim couch and Western decor, and all around the room he had put photographs of his son, his parents, a horse he'd loved. There were books and magazines in neat piles, some tools in a neat box, and an entire bookcase filled with music. She was surprised by how many albums of hers he had, but she also liked his other choices.

There was a living room, a large kitchen with a dining area, and that was neat too, though the refrigerator was all but empty. He had what she called bachelor food. Peanut butter, an avocado, two lemons and a tomato, some soda water, a lot of beer, and a lifetime supply of Oreo cookies.

“You must not do a lot of cooking.” She laughed.

“I eat in the staff dining room,” he said, pointing out, as he pulled out a refrigerator bin, that he also had eggs, bacon, jam, butter, and English muffins.