Danielle Steel - The Ranch

A story of healing, hope, and the power of

friendship … THE RANCH

PRAISE FOR

DANIELLE STEEL“A LITERARY PHENOMENON… and not to be pigeonholed as one who produces a predictable kind of book.”— The Detroit News “There is a smooth reading style to her writings which makes it easy to forget the time and to keep flipping the pages.”— The Pittsburgh Press “Ms. Steel excels at pacing her narrative, which races forward.”— Nashville Banner “One counts on Danielle Steel for A STORY THAT ENTERTAINS AND INFORMS.”— The Chattanooga Times “STEEL IS AT THE TOP OF HER BESTSELLING FORM.”— Houston Chronicle “It's nothing short of amazing that even after [dozens of] novels, Danielle Steel can still come up with a good new yarn.”— The Star-Ledger (Newark)

PRAISE FOR DANIELLE STEEL'S

THE RANCH“WARM WITHOUT BEING CUTESY, THIS IS A FEMINIST NOVEL IN THE BEST SENSE OF THE WORD.”— Chicago Tribune “A HEARTWARMING TALE.”— McCall's “THE RANCH IS HARD TO PUT DOWN!”— The Progress (Claremore, Okla.)“BET THE RANCH THAT THE RANCH WILL BE ANOTHER BEST SELLER!”—Associated Press“THERE ARE ENOUGH TRIUMPHS AND TRAGEDIES TO KEEP ANY READER INTERESTED … [STEEL] MAKES THE THREE WOMEN TOTAL PEOPLE. THEY HAVE DIMENSION AND DEPTH.”— The Rockdale Citizen (Conyers, Ga.)“THE BOOK THAT HAS EVERYONE TALKING!”— The Republic'American (Waterbury, Conn.)“THE STORY OF THREE COLLEGE ROOMMATES WHO REUNITE ON A RANCH IN WYOMING PROMISES TO WARM HEARTS AS ONLY [DANIELLE STEEL] CAN.”— Woman's World A MAIN SELECTION OF

THE LITERARY GUILD

AND

THE DOUBLEDAY BOOK CLUB

Also by Danielle Steel

THE HOUSE THE GIFT TOXIC BACHELORS ACCIDENT MIRACLE VANISHED IMPOSSIBLE MIXED BLESSINGS ECHOES JEWELS SECOND CHANCE NO GREATER LOVE RANSOM HEARTBEAT SAFE HARBOUR MESSAGE FROM NAM JOHNNY ANGEL DADDY DATING GAME STAR ANSWERED PRAYERS ZOYA SUNSET IN ST. TROPEZ KALEIDOSCOPE THE COTTAGE FINE THINGS THE KISS WANDERLUST LEAP OF FAITH SECRETS LONE EAGLE FAMILY ALBUM JOURNEY FULL CIRCLE THE HOUSE ON HOPE STREET CHANGES THE WEDDING THURSTON HOUSE IRRESISTIBLE FORCES CROSSINGS GRANNY DAN ONCE IN A LIFETIME BITTERSWEET A PERFECT STRANGER MIRROR IMAGE REMEMBRANCE HIS BRIGHT LIGHT: PALOMINO The Story of Nick Traina LOVE: POEMS THE KLONE AND I THE RING THE LONG ROAD HOME LOVING THE GHOST TO LOVE AGAIN SPECIAL DELIVERY SUMMER'S END THE RANCH SEASON OF PASSION SILENT HONOR THE PROMISE MALICE NOW AND FOREVER FIVE DAYS IN PARIS PASSION'S PROMISE LIGHTNING GOING HOME WINGS

To Victoria and Nancy,

special, precious friends,

sisters of my heart,

who make me laugh,

hold my hand when I cry,

and are always, always, always

there for me.

With all my love,

d.s.

Chapter 1

In any other supermarket, the woman walking down the aisle, pushing a cart between canned goods and gourmet spices, would have looked strangely out of place. She had impeccably groomed shoulder-length brown hair, beautiful skin, huge brown eyes, a trim figure, perfectly done nails, and she was wearing a navy linen suit that looked as though she had bought it in Paris. She wore high-heeled navy blue shoes, a navy Chanel bag, and everything about her was perfection. She could have easily pretended she'd never seen a supermarket before, but she looked surprisingly at home here. In fact, she often stopped at Gristede's at Madison and Seventy-seventh on the way home. Most of the shopping was done by their housekeeper, but in a funny old-fashioned way, Mary Stuart Walker liked doing the shopping herself. She liked cooking for Bill at night when he came home, and they had never had a cook, even when the children were younger. Despite the impeccable way she looked, she liked taking care of her family, and attending to every minute detail herself.

Their apartment was at Seventy-eighth and Fifth, with a splendid view of Central Park. They had lived there for fifteen of the nearly twenty-two years of their marriage. Mary Stuart kept an impressive home. The children teased her sometimes about how “perfect” everything always was, how everything had to look and be just right, and it was easy to believe that about her. Just looking at her, it was easy to see that she was somewhat compulsive about it. Even at six o'clock, on a hot June evening in New York, after six hours of meetings, Mary Stuart had just put on fresh lipstick, and she didn't have a hair out of place.

She selected two small steaks, two baking potatoes, some fresh asparagus, some fruit, and some yogurt, remembering too easily the days when her shopping cart had been filled with treats for the children. She always pretended to disapprove, but couldn't resist buying the things they saw on TV and said they wanted. It was a small thing in life, spoiling them a little bit, indulging them bubble-gum flavored cereal was so important to them, she never could see the point of refusing to buy it for them and forcing them to eat a healthy one they'd hate.

Like most people in their world in New York, she and Bill expected a great deal from their children, a high standard for everything, near perfect grades, impressive athletic ability, complete integrity, high morals. And as it turned out, Alyssa and Todd were good-looking, bright and shining in every way, outstanding in and out of school, and basically very decent people. Bill had teased them ever since they were young, and told them that he expected them to be the perfect kids, he and their mother were counting on it in fact. By the time they were ten and twelve, Alyssa and Todd groaned whenever they heard the words. But there was more than a little truth to the speech, and they knew it. What their father really meant was that they had to do their absolute best in and out of school, perform at the top of their ability, and even if they didn't always succeed they had to try hard. It was a lot to expect of anyone, but Bill Walker had always set high standards, and they met them. As rigid as their mother seemed to be sometimes, it was their father who was the real perfectionist, who expected it all from them, and from their mother. It was Bill who really put the pressure on all of them, not just his children, but his wife as well.

Mary Stuart had been the perfect wife to him for nearly twenty-two years, providing him with the perfect home, the perfect children, looking beautiful, doing what was expected of her, entertaining for him, and keeping a home that not only landed them on the pages of Architectural Digest , but was a happy place to come home to. There was nothing showy or ostentatious about their way of life, it was all beautifully done, meticulously handled. You couldn't see the seams in anything Mary Stuart did. She made it all look effortless, although most people realized it couldn't be as easy as she made it seem. But that was her gift to him. Making it all seem easy. For years, she had organized charity events which raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for important charities, sat on museum boards, and worked ceaselessly assisting the cause of injured, diseased, or seriously underprivileged children. And now, at forty-four, with the children more or less grown, in addition to the charity events she still organized, and the committees she sat on, for the past three years she'd been doing volunteer work with physically and emotionally handicapped children in a hospital in Harlem.

She sat on the board of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and Lincoln Center, and helped to organize assorted fund-raising events each year, because everyone wanted her to help them. She kept extraordinarily busy, particularly now, with no children to come home to, and Bill constantly working late at the office. He was one of the senior partners in an international law firm on Wall Street. He handled all of their most important cases relating to Germany and England. He was a trial lawyer primarily, and the things Mary Stuart did socially had always done a great deal to enhance his reputation. She entertained beautifully for him, and always had, although this year had been very quiet. He had spent much of the year traveling abroad, particularly for the past several months, preparing a massive trial in London, which had kept him away from home. And Mary Stuart had been busier than ever with her volunteer work.