Danielle Steel - The Ranch

“I promise,” he said, sounding hoarse as their eyes met. His knees were turning to water.

“Take care,” she said, and touched his arm, and the velvet of her suede suit brushed past his hand and she literally vanished. She had seen people watching them, and before anyone took a picture, or they mobbed her, she wanted to get back to the bleachers. It might be impossible to stay now anyway, now that they knew she was there, but she was dying to see him ride. It took her a full five minutes, but she got back to her seat with no mishap, and her heart was pounding when she got there, but it was because of Gordon, not the crowd or the performance. She had never been as moved by anyone in her life as she was by him, and she knew it could be dangerous for both of them. She didn't need another scandal, and he didn't need his life turned upside down by a singer who was going to get on her bus and leave town two weeks later.

“Where the hell were you?” Zoe was frantic when she got back to where they were sitting, and so was Mary Stuart and even Hartley. They had just been about to call the security when she got there.

“I'm really sorry,” she apologized profusely to all of them, “I didn't mean to worry you. It took me a while to get through the crowd, and I ran into Gordon.” Everyone accepted it and she sat down and they did too, and half a minute later, Mary Stuart leaned toward her and spoke to her in a whisper.

“You're full of shit, you went to find him.” There was mischief in her eyes, and Tanya avoided eye contact with her. She really didn't want to admit it. She was far more smitten with him than she was ready to tell them.

“Of course not.” She tried to brush her off and pretended to watch the first event, which was roping, which always bored her.

“I saw you,” Mary Stuart said, and their eyes met. Her friend was smiling. “Be careful,” she whispered into Tanya's ear, but as they were talking, half a dozen people approached them and asked Tanya to sign autographs. And since she had made a willing spectacle of herself, she didn't think she could refuse them. It was like that all night, through the team roping, the barrel racing, the bareback broncos, the bulls, and then finally, she saw him. He was riding a fierce, bucking bronco with a saddle. And the thing she hated most about saddle broncs was that the cowboys taped one hand into the horn on the saddle. They had to come off specifically on one side, and be able to get their hand out. And if they didn't, they could be dragged around on their head for ten minutes before the pickup men could catch them. She had seen some horrifying accidents while she was a child in Texas, And she found herself terrified as she watched him come out of the gate on a vicious brown horse that did everything it could to get rid of its rider. His feet were in the air just as they were meant to be, his legs straight forward, his head and torso tilted far back, and he didn't touch the saddle with his free hand. And he seemed to ride forever. He rode until the bell, he had stayed on longer than anyone, and he made a nice clean jump to the ground, while the pickup men went after the bronco and got him. He got an almost perfect score and waved his hat and his taped hand in her direction and then strode across the ring back to the pens, with his chaps and his boots, looking glorious. It had been a real victory for him. And he had done it for Tanya.

They stayed until the last event, a final round of bulls, followed by fourteen-year-old boys on young steers, that made you wonder about the boys’ parents. It was certainly not as dangerous as the bulls, but close enough, and Mary Stuart was outraged.

“Those people should be put in jail for letting those boys do that.” In fact, one of the youths had been stomped, a boy of twelve, but he was on his feet again within a few minutes. Zoe and the others had been watching closely.

But in spite of some of the barbarism, and the sheer hokiness, Tanya had to admit she loved it, it was everything she had always loved as a child. And as they left, the others couldn't believe the number of people who asked for autographs on the way out, who snapped her picture, and tried to touch her. But the grand marshal had very kindly sent the security and the real police over to her, anticipating that, and she managed to get back to the bus without any real problems. There were still about fifty people standing outside the bus when they left, waving and shouting, and running alongside the bus as it drove away. It was an amazing phenomenon. It was the adoration that always came before the hatred. If she stayed long enough, they would have torn her limb from limb, in order to get a piece of her or maybe some lunatic would really hurt her. It was the kind of atmosphere that always made her very nervous in crowds, or out in public.

“Tanya, you're amazing,” Hartley said to her as they pulled away. He was filled with admiration. She was gracious to everyone, while still maintaining her dignity, and trying to give them what they wanted, and yet keep a reasonable distance. But through it all, one sensed constantly how precarious the balance of the crowd was. “I would be terrified of even a little crowd like that,” he said sensibly. “I'm an inveterate coward.” But she was used to doing concerts in front of as many as seventy-five thousand. Yet even in a crowd like the one tonight, someone could easily have lost control and killed her. And she knew it. “You also have a voice straight from God,” he said. “Everyone around us was crying.”

“Me too,” Mary Stuart said, smiling,

“I always cry when you sing,” Zoe said matter-of-factly, and Tanya smiled, touched by all of them. It had been a remarkable evening, and Hartley sat with them for a while when they went back, and then he and Mary Stuart took a walk, and he brought her back around eleven-thirty. They had stood in the moonlight for ages kissing, and Tanya and Zoe thought they were cute and incredibly romantic.

“What do you think will happen?” Tanya asked Zoe as they sat in the living room, talking.

“It would be nice for her if things worked out with him, but it's hard to tell. I have the feeling in a place like this it's a little bit like a shipboard romance. And I'm not sure she's worked it all out in her head with Bill yet.” It was astute of Zoe to notice.

“He's been such a bastard to her all year, I hope she leaves him,” Tanya said, sounding harder than usual, but she was angry at Bill, and she felt sorry for Mary Stuart.

“But he's been in pain too.” Zoe was more familiar with the strain a death in the family put on otherwise decent people. It turned some of them into saints, others into monsters. And Bill Walker had definitely been the latter.

Zoe was going to say something about Tanya's wrangler too, but Mary Stuart came in then, beaming.

“Are we allowed to check for beard burn?” Tanya asked, reminiscent of school, and they all collapsed in laughter.

“God, I'd forgotten what that is,” Mary Stuart laughed, and then turned to Tanya. “You were unbelievable tonight, Tan. Better than ever. I've never heard you like that.”

“It was fun. That's the good part. I always love the singing.”

“Well, you give a lot of people a great deal of pleasure,” Mary Stuart said kindly.

They chatted for a little while, and Mary Stuart and Zoe went to bed, and Tanya decided to stay in the living room reading. She was still exhilarated from the rodeo, and her brief performance, and just after midnight, she heard a soft tapping on the window. She thought it was an animal outside at first, and then she looked up and saw a flash of green shirt, and then a face smiling at her like a mischievous boy. It was Gordon. And she grinned when she saw him. She wondered if in some instinctive part of her she had been waiting for him. The thought crossed her mind as she slipped quietly out to see him. It was chilly outside, and she was still wearing her velvety suedes, and she was barefoot.