Danielle Steel - The Ranch

“Is everyone else all right?”

“Peter Williams had a rough night. I spent an hour at his house before I went to Quinn's. He's got pneumonia again. I'm going to admit him in the morning,” He was thirty-one years old, and getting close to the end too. But in his case, it was far more disturbing because he was so young.

“Sounds like you had a busy night.”

“The usual,” he said, smiling. He loved it. This was what he had gone to school for. “What about you? Having fun? Meet any cowboys yet?”

“Just one. The one who picked me up at the airport. He's about twelve years old and twelve feet tall, a kid from Mississippi. It's incredible here, by the way, I really love it.”

“How's your friend?”

“Fine. And she had a surprise for me. Our other roommate from Berkeley. It's a long story, but she and I haven't spoken in twenty years. She was ready to take the next plane back to New York when she saw me. But I think we made peace last night. I was a real shit to her twenty years ago, I've never forgiven myself for it. And it was really nice to put that behind us.”

“Sounds like you've been busy too,” he said kindly.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, go back to sleep. I'm sorry I called so early.” It was only five-thirty in the morning for him by then, and he was about to go to bed. But he had wanted her to know about Quinn Morrison as soon as it happened. He knew that was what she would have wanted.

“Thanks for calling, Sam. I really appreciate it. I know you did your best for him. Don't feel that you didn't. I wouldn't have been able to do anything different.” It was nice of her to say that to him, and he was grateful. She was a good woman.

“Thank you for that, Zoe. Take care. I'll talk to you soon,” but as he hung up, he felt sad thinking of her. There was so much there, so much he wanted and admired, and he couldn't get near her. And he sensed her loneliness too. There was an overwhelmingly vulnerable quality about her, and yet she was hiding somewhere, and he was beginning to suspect he would never find her.

At that exact moment, as he went to bed, Zoe was standing in the living room of their cabin in Moose, Wyoming, watching the sun come up over the Grand Tetons. And there were tears rolling slowly down her cheeks at the sheer beauty of it. She thought of Quinn Morrison, and the life he had led. She was sorry he had died, she was sorry for so many of them. There was so much grief in life… Ellie… and Todd… and all the sorrows she'd seen, and yet at the same time there was this overwhelming beauty. And she was suddenly glad she had come. Whatever happened, she had seen the sun come up once in her life over the Grand Tetons. It was impossible not to know there was a God when you saw that. She tiptoed quietly back to her own room, and lay in bed, thinking of Sam, and looking out over the mountains.

Chapter 12

On their first morning at the ranch, Zoe went back to sleep for a while after Sam called, but she woke again just as Mary Stuart wandered out of her room. Zoe heard someone stirring, and got out of bed, and the two women met in the kitchen, where Mary Stuart was making coffee. They were both in their nightgowns, and Mary Stuart looked up and smiled at her. Zoe looked more rested than she had before, and surprisingly young that morning.

“Can I make you some coffee? There's tea too, if you want it.” But she didn't, and Zoe helped herself to a mug of steaming coffee. “Is Tanya up yet?” Zoe asked, and then they both grinned. “I guess some things don't change.”

Mary Stuart looked at her old friend seriously for a moment. They had been estranged for so many years. “No, they don't. I'm glad. I'm glad I came.” She looked right into Zoe's eyes.

“So am I, Stu. I wish I hadn't been stupid way back then. I wish we'd talked over the years. I'm just glad we saw each other now. I would have hated to have this stay between us.” It had gone on for long enough. Ellie had been laid to rest for more than twenty years, and their old battles could be too. Looking back, it seemed so foolish and such a pathetic waste of time. “I owe Tanya one for asking you here and not telling me.”

“She's a cagey little thing, isn't she?” Mary Stuart laughed. “All the way here on the bus she never said a word. I should have suspected something though. She said ‘we’ a couple of times before I agreed to come, and I think her assistant said something about ‘they’ and three rooms. I thought she meant the kids. It never dawned on me she'd invited anyone. And it worked out so well for me when Alyssa canceled our trip. I had nothing to do.”

“It's a godsend for me too.” She thought of the light on the mountains that morning when Sam had called to tell her Quinn Morrison had died. She told Mary Stuart about it, as they sat at the narrow counter in the kitchen alcove, and sipped their coffee.

“It must be depressing work,” Mary Stuart said quietly. “I admire you for it, but you just can't win.” She thought of how awful it had been when Todd had died, she couldn't imagine dealing with that every day. But then again, he had been her son, not her patient.

“You can win for a while. And oddly enough, it's not depressing most of the time. You learn to take the little victories, you get more and more determined to win the fight. And sometimes you lose.” She lost a lot of the time, it was inevitable. But some of it had to do with the circumstances, and how ready the patient and the family were to let go. Sometimes it was just time, like with Quinn. It was the children she hated to lose most, and the young people, the ones who had so much left to live and to learn and to give. Like herself. But she hadn't absorbed that yet.

“You're lucky you found the right path for yourself so long ago,” Mary Stuart said, envying her, and enjoying her company. It was easy to remember why they had been such good friends. The rift seemed so unimportant now. In the sunlight of honesty, it had finally vanished. “I do a lot of charity work in New York, a lot of committees and volunteer work, but I've been thinking of getting a job. I just don't know what I'd do. All I've ever really done is be a wife, and mother to our kids.”

“That's not bad.” Zoe smiled at her, suddenly realizing how much she'd missed her. And in the unexpected twilight of her life, she realized how much she needed her friends now. It was all the more poignant for her because she had always thought she would have so much time, and now she didn't. “Being a wife and mother is a job too.”

“Well, in that case,” Mary Stuart said, setting down her mug, “I think my job is almost over. Alyssa is grown up. Todd is gone, I'm not even a wife to Bill anymore. We just live at the same address and my name is on his tax forms. Suddenly, I feel useless.”

“You're not. Maybe it's just time to move on.”

She was right, but the problem was to where. Mary Stuart had been doing a lot of thinking. “I keep looking for the answers, of what to do, where to live, what to tell Bill when he comes back. I don't even want to talk to him right now. But he doesn't want to talk to me either. He hardly ever calls. Maybe he's going through the same thing, and just doesn't want to say it. He must realize that it's all over.”

“Maybe you should ask him,” Zoe said, and looked at her watch, wondering when Tanya was going to get up, and then she glanced at Mary Stuart. “What time are we supposed to be at breakfast?”

“Eight o'clock, I think.” It was seven-thirty by then, and they had to dress, and then Mary Stuart looked at her old friend with a quizzical expression. “Are you leaving today?” Her voice was very gentle.

There was a long pause and then Zoe shook her head. “I'd rather not, unless you want me to. But it's up to you, you've come the greatest distance. If anyone leaves, I should.”