"Jewelry?" Randi leaned closer, looking genuinely interested in her friend's whining. The lines on Randi's face reflected years of answering to last call.

"Sure. Lots," Crystal said proudly. "But it's all locked up at the office. Trent won't get it for me unless his daddy tells him to." Crystal blew her nose. "I don't care about the money or the jewelry. I just want Shelby." She sniffed loudly once more. "I don't want to be out on the streets again. I want to be close to him and he feels the same. He says his heart doesn't start each morning until he looks at me."

Anna watched as Helena pulled the crumbling group back under control. "What about you, Meredith? Is there family you'd rather be with?"

The schoolteacher raised her head. She had not said anything in half an hour. The size-too-small sweater she wore was hopelessly twisted, once more making the letters tumble together. "No," she answered. "My mom moved to Arizona to live with her sister when she retired. I have no siblings, or kids of my own. I guess I always figured Kevin is enough of a kid to keep me busy. Since I can't go back to my classroom, this is as good a place as any to wait." She lowered her head, returning to the thread she had been twisting off her sweater.

"Well, I have enough kids for us all." Helena smiled. "I had two girls by my first husband. Twins, though they look nothing alike. My second husband had four children I helped raise, but none of them live close any longer. I was fifty when I married J.D. but if it had been possible, I'd have had his child."

"You're kidding." Randi gulped her drink. "You'd be on Social Security before the kid got out of high school."

Helena laughed. "It's crazy, but I wish I could've done that for him. He's my third husband, and the only man I ever really loved. If he's dead, he'll also be my last. God only made one man like J. D. Whitworth."

"I-I have tried," Anna said slowly, trying not to stutter. "T-to have children, I mean. But there have been no babies."

"Not me." Crystal shook her head. "First, a kid would ruin thousands of dollars of surgery. Second, I might have a brat like Shelby's others. I can't see going through all that to bring someone like Trent Howard into the world."

"That kind of thing is not for me," Randi's low voice was added to the group. "I don't mind running the plays, but I sure don't want to make a touchdown. Western clothes are hard to find in maternity sizes."

Suddenly the talk turned to life, and living life, and making choices all women have to make. Their conversation became real. No need for social barriers or polite lies. Somehow, the accident, on the rig miles away, made them all the same. All equal. All sisters. The fear they shared brought them together, making each stronger because of their bond.

They talked of the joys in their lives and the changes they wished they had made. Helena, as the oldest, perhaps felt she could be the most honest and her honesty cleared the table of all pretenses. She told of marrying young the first time and losing him in Viet Nam, a month after the twins were born.

For a while she had been a single mother trying to start a business and rock two babies at night. After five hard years, she'd married a man ten years her senior for security.

They'd found baby-sitters and housekeepers to manage the children and he'd taught her how to build her small dress shop into Helena's Choice.

When he'd died years later all she could say about him was that he had been a good accountant.

Randi talked of deeds done and regretted, Meredith talked of thoughts she harbored, and somewhere in the confessions the cowgirl and the schoolteacher were the same. The difference lay only in degrees.

Anna mostly listened and smiled to herself. In the strange room so far from Italy, she suddenly felt very much at home. She even told the others of her art, something Davis would never approve of, and, to her surprise, the women were interested.

The room finally grew silent, except for the low rumble of the vending machines. Each woman knew they were opening, showing themselves as they never would have done under normal circumstances. Their honesty bred a calmness that floated like a current through the room, washing away worry and fear.

Helena leaned across the table and touched Crystal's manicured hand with her wrinkled one. "No matter what, we'll survive, dear. If no one else, we have each other. I'll be there for you, if you need me. I swear."

"Helena's right." Meredith added her hand brushing the older woman's. "We can get through this."

Randi joined the covenant. "Oh, well. Hell, why not. I'll help where I can, if any of you need me."

Slowly, Anna's hand finished the circle of fingers in the center of the table. No one said a word, but a pact wove its way around them. They silently agreed to stand beside one another. Women from different worlds within the same small community.

Whatever lay beyond the door did not seem so terrifying knowing someone stood near. They were silent, thinking of what was to come, realizing the news would be bad for some, if not all, in the room.

The door opened with a slight swishing sound. All hands retreated slowly, yet the covenant remained. Invisible. Strong. In the passing of a few hours they had put aside their masks and accepted one another. The world's intrusion would not alter that acceptance. For the first time in her life, Anna did not feel so alone.

"Ladies." A retired doctor shuffled into the room on shoes that never lifted from the floor. He was stooped with age and looked well into his seventies, but intelligence shone from his eyes. "The staff called me in to help right after they sent the ambulance out to the Montano place. I was here by the time the men started arriving. Because I know most of you, I was asked to speak to you."

He nodded a greeting to Helena and Crystal, and then touched Meredith on the shoulder. When his watery gray eyes met Anna's, he said, "I'm Dr. Hamilton." Before Anna spoke he added, "Mrs. Montano."

Randi turned toward him, lifting her coke a few inches. "Doc."

"Randi," he answered with an honest smile.

"We've been waiting." Randi sat up in her chair. "Hope you can tell us something."

He cleared his throat, trying to be professional. "As I'm sure you know, all five of your husbands were on a rig Shelby Howard built that stood on Montano land. The way I hear it from a few of the crew being treated for burns, J.D. planned to invest extra money in the rig so one of the bank officers, Kevin Allen, had to come along for the ride."

He glanced at Randi and added, "Jimmy was there with Shelby. Helping out as always."

"And how many workers were on the rig?" Helena asked, needing the details.

"None," the doctor answered. "Jimmy had offered them a beer from the cooler in his trunk. From what I understand that is pretty much routine."

His eyes bubbled with tears. "Only your husbands were standing on the rig when a box of explosives, that never should have been near the place, exploded."

The women waited, knowing Dr. Hamilton had said the easy part of his tale. He stared just above their heads as he added, "Four were killed. The man still alive is hanging on by a thread. We tried to get a helicopter from Parkland, but the storm's preventing that. I did get a specially trained nurse to drive over from Wichita Falls. She arrived about half an hour ago in her car packed with much needed supplies."

The sheriff slipped into the room and stood behind the doctor. He was tall and solid in his tailored uniform. He stood at attention, official.

Hamilton continued, "I asked Sheriff Farrington to join us in case you have any questions. He's here to help in any way he can. He'll also see you make it past the reporters if you don't feel like talking to them."

Randi was the only one who glanced in the sheriff's direction. The others waited for the doctor to continue.

Hamilton's sorrowful gaze darted from one woman to the other. "I don't know how to say this easily." He clenched his jaw, forcing tears not to fall. His hand shook so badly he had to grip the lapel of his coat to keep his fingers steady.

Anna stood and folded her arms, hugging herself as tightly as she dared. Her riding jacket seemed to offer her no warmth now.

Randi pulled Crystal against her.

Meredith moved close to the door, looking as if she might bolt at any moment.

Only Helena faced the doctor directly. "We've waited long enough, Simon. Say what you have to say and get on with it. Bad news doesn't get any better with age."

The doctor nodded and turned to Meredith. She looked like a firing squad had just drawn aim on her. She did not move.

"I'm sorry, Meredith. We determined Kevin's body by size and blood type. He was a good three inches taller than the others and the only 0 positive among the men."

Meredith opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She would have slid to the floor, but Sheriff Farrington's arm encircled her and held her up. He seemed a cold man and his hug felt cold now, as though he were only doing his duty, nothing more.

"Kevin," Meredith cried. "I want Kevin. We've been together since we were sixteen. How can he be gone?"

"If it's any comfort, Meredith, he didn't suffer. We think the blast killed him, not the fire that followed." The doctor swallowed hard. "I signed his birth certificate so I asked if I could sign the death certificate."

The sheriff held Meredith steady. She turned her face into his shoulder and sobbed.

Dr. Hamilton looked at Helena. "I'm sorry, Helena. J.D. fought for life all the way into town but died before we could get him stabilized. He was a soldier to the end."

Helena nodded but did not move. She sat like a statue at the end of the table. Not a hair out of place. Not a wrinkle to be seen on her clothing, but her heart crumbled inside.