The Ranch (37 page)

“What happened?” Hartley asked. He had been very worried when Mary Stuart had told him they couldn't ride that morning. And Gordon was terrified that Tanya had come to her senses and was now afraid to face him. But it was obvious now that something much worse had happened to them. And at first neither woman answered.

“Are you all right?” Gordon asked Tanya cautiously. She looked as though someone close to her had died. It wasn't that bad, but it would be, someday. This was just the introduction.

“I'm okay,” Tanya whispered, brushing his hand with her fingers, and he felt an electric current run through him. “How's your friend?” Tanya didn't answer, and she saw that Mary Stuart was talking to Hartley and crying again. She knew Mary Stuart was too discreet to break her promise to Zoe and tell him Zoe had AIDS, but Tanya suspected she might say she had cancer, which was what the three of them had agreed to tell Hartley and Gordon. And Tanya chose to do the same thing with Gordon. He felt terrible when he heard, and he could see easily how close they were. “I've known her since I was eighteen. That's twenty-six years,” she said miserably, and he wished he could put an arm around her shoulders, but he didn't dare. He was working.

“It sure doesn't look it,” he said, and she smiled at him.

“Thanks. I'm probably ten years older than you are,” she said. “Officially, I'm thirty-six, in case it matters. But I'm really forty-four.”

He laughed at the complications. “Well, I'm really forty-two, and I'm really a wrangler, and I'm really from Texas, and I was starting to panic. I figured you'd woken up and come to your senses and never wanted to see me again or something.” He had been in a total state all morning, and could hardly pay attention to Hartley. Fortunately, no one else had ridden with them.

“I was up at six o'clock to get ready to see you. I couldn't sleep I was so excited. It's like being fourteen years old and falling in love for the first time.” It was like when she had fallen in love with Bobby Joe in eighth grade, only more so. “It was all I could think of all night… and then, this morning, everything went crazy. She was so sick, and I called the doctor. And he sat with her for hours, and then she told us.”

“Is she going to be all right? For now, I mean. Should she be in a hospital?”

“He doesn't think so,” Tanya explained, “unless she gets worse here. But she wants to go home and go right back to her practice.”

“She's an amazing woman.” And then he looked down at her, suffering for her friend, even before she lost her. The thought of it almost killed her, and it reminded her of Ellie. That had been so heartbreaking for all of them. And Zoe would be even worse when it happened.

“You're an amazing woman too,” he said gently. “I've never known anyone like you. I never expected you to be so real. I thought you were going to be the fanciest woman I ever met, instead you're the most human, the most down-to-earth, the plainest.” It wasn't an insult, but a compliment, and she knew that. “Do you think you can still get away on Sunday?”

“I'll try. I want to see how she is first,” but she also knew that it would be their only chance to be together. He worked every other day of the week, and the following Sunday, when he'd be off again, they were leaving.

“Is this real, Tanny?” he asked her suddenly, as they stood there, under the oak trees. He wanted it to be, he wanted to believe it was everything he thought it was, but he was desperately afraid that she was just some fabulous movie star who had come up from Hollywood, was going to play a little bit and forget him. But that didn't seem like her. He didn't even dare say it.

“It's real,” she whispered softly. “I don't know how it happened, or when,” she smiled then, “you annoyed the hell out of me when you wouldn't talk to me on Monday. Maybe that's when it happened. But whenever it did, I've never known anything like this. It's real, Gordon, believe me,” she said softly, and she looked as bowled over as he did.

“I didn't talk to you because I was afraid to, and then you didn't turn out to be the way I thought, and I just couldn't help it. I just wanted to ride around those hills with you forever.”

“What are we going to do now?” She wanted to see him and talk to him and spend time with him, and see what they had here, but she didn't want to cost him his job and get him into trouble.

“Can I come back and talk to you tonight?” he asked softly so no one would hear them, and she nodded, and raised her eyes to his with a small smile.

“We'll ride tomorrow. I think this afternoon we'll stay with Zoe, unless she's sleeping or something. I want to check on her again after lunch. What about tomorrow night? Will you come and teach me the two-step? The brochure says the wranglers will teach us, and I'd like to hold you to it.” In spite of their horrendous morning, she was teasing him, and he loved it. His eyes were as full of love and excitement as hers were. It was just a shame they couldn't really indulge it. But this had its high points too, it was tender and secret. “Will you teach me, Mr. Washbaugh?”

“Yes, ma'am. I'll be there.” It was one event he was expected to attend, and he intended to take full advantage of it. “And on Saturday, I'm in the rodeo again.”

“I'll be there,” she whispered.

“Are you going to sing again?”

“Maybe.” She smiled. “It was fun.” But it had also scared them both a little. “I'll see what the crowd looks like.”

“You looked great on that palomino.” She would have loved to ride off on it with him. “And Sunday is ours, and we'll see how next week goes.”

“That sounds pretty good.” She smiled at him, this was very new for both of them, and more than a little scary. They wandered back to Hartley and Mary Stuart then, and as he left them, Gordon brushed his hand against hers, and it tied her stomach in a knot being so close to him, and not being able to do anything about it. She was dying to kiss him.

“How was your ride?” she asked Hartley, and he looked sympathetic.

“A lot nicer than your morning. Mary Stuart was just telling me about Zoe. Pancreatic cancer is an awful thing. I had a cousin who died of it in Boston.” Tanya nodded, grateful to know her friend's story. “I'm so sorry.”

“Me too,” Tanya said, and exchanged a glance with Mary Stuart. “She could go on for quite a while apparently, but eventually there might be complications.” It was complicated lying, but he was nodding agreement.

“That's exactly what happened to my cousin. All you can do is make her as comfortable as possible, let her do what she wants, and be there if she needs you.” His saying that reminded Tanya that she had forgotten to tell Gordon she was taking Zoe's baby eventually. She wanted him to know, for a variety of reasons. And she wanted to see his reaction. She couldn't believe that she was actually testing the waters for a future with him after three days, but if it was even a remote possibility for some later date, she wanted to know how he would react to a number of things, and one of them was Zoe's baby.

Hartley walked them up to lunch, and the three of them talked endlessly about Zoe, her health, her career, her clinic, her child, her future, her brilliant mind, her enormous devotion to mankind. They went on endlessly about her, and the subject of their admiration and sympathy was sitting in her bedroom, thinking. She knew she had to call Sam, but she was stalling about it. She needed to ask him if he'd cover for her for a few more days, but she was afraid he'd hear something more in her voice, and she wanted to keep it from him. But while she sat mulling over what to do, and whether she should just leave a message for him, the phone rang, and it was providence, because Sam was calling her to ask her advice about a patient. She needed a major change in medication, and Sam wanted to be sure he was doing what Zoe wanted. He was actually surprised to find her in her room, he was planning to leave a message, but thought he'd check first, just in case she was there for a minute.

“I'm glad I caught you,” he said, sounding pleased and then asked her the question, and she gave him the answer. She was happy that he'd asked, so many other people didn't give the primary physician that courtesy to make the decision.

“I really appreciate your asking me,” she told him. It was why she liked having him cover for her instead of other people. Other relief doctors had screwed up many of her patients while she was gone, and never even bothered to tell her.

“Thanks for saying that,” he said. He sounded busy and happy, and he said he was taking a rare lunch break. “You don't get fat around here, I'll say that much. I haven't run this hard since med school.” In the past he had covered for her at night, or an afternoon, so she could go to dinner, or the theater, or have a glass of wine without worrying about it at a social event. This was the first time he'd done a whole week for her, and he loved it. “You run a great show here,” he said admiringly, “and all your patients love you. It's mighty hard to live up to.”

“They're probably not even asking for me by now.” She smiled. “They're all going to come in asking for Dr. Warner.”

“I should be so lucky.” And as he listened to her, he thought she sounded a little strange, as if she was tired or in bed or had just woken up, or been crying, and it suddenly struck him as odd, and he asked her about it. It was just an instinct, and she was so startled to be asked if she was really all right or upset about something that it silenced her for a moment, and then she started crying again, and couldn't answer. And he heard that too, and suddenly in his head, there were alarm bells.

“Did something happen to one of your friends?” he asked her gently. “Or to you?” He was an extraordinarily intuitive person and that scared her.

“No, no, they're fine,” she said, and then realized she had to ask him about the following week while she had him on the phone, and she decided to try it. “Actually, I was going to call you anyway. We're having such a good time that I was wondering if…” She faltered and pressed onward all in the same breath, hoping he wouldn't notice“… if you could maybe do another week for me, possibly less. But at worst, I'd come home a week from Sunday. I wasn't sure if you were free, or how you felt about it, and I wanted to ask you.”

“I'd love it,” he said quietly, but he had listened to every intonation in her voice and he was convinced she was crying. “But something's wrong, and I want to know what it is so I can help you.”

“Really nothing,” she continued to lie to him. “But can you do another week at the clinic?”

“I told you I would. No problem. But that's not the issue. Zoe, what's wrong? There's always a piece of the puzzle you don't show me. Why are you hiding? What's wrong, baby… I can hear you crying… please don't shut me out… I want to help you.” He was almost crying too, and at her end she was sobbing.

“I can't, Sam… please don't ask me…”

“Why? What is it that's so terrible that you have to hide and carry all your burdens alone?” And then as he asked her, he knew. It was the same thing she saw every day, and he was seeing now. The ultimate scourge, the greatest shame, the final sorrow. She had AIDS. She didn't tell him, but he knew it. “Zoe?” She could hear in his voice that something had happened. And at her end of the phone, she was very quiet. It explained a lot of things, why she wanted no relationship with anyone, why she had looked so ill that day. It happened to a lot of doctors who treated patients with AIDS. You tried to be so careful, but it happened. You made a mistake, someone moved wrong, you stuck a child and pricked yourself, you were tired, you got sloppy, whatever the reason, the result was final. “Zoe?” he said again, and his voice was very gentle. He was only sorry not to be in the same room with her so he could put his arms around her. “Did you stick yourself? I want to know… please…” There was a long, long silence, and then a sigh. It was so hard fighting him. Her secret was out now.

“Yeah… last year… she was a little kid and very wiggly.”

“Oh, God… I knew it. Why didn't you tell me? I've been so stupid, and so have you. What are you doing? Why are you hiding from me? Are you sick now?” He sounded panicked. She had AIDS, and he'd done nothing to help her except cover her practice. His mind and heart were racing. “Are you sick?” he asked her again, sounding still more forceful.

“Kind of. It's not serious, but the doctor here wants me to take it easy for a few days. I think I'll be all right by Monday. He says give it a full week to avoid secondary infection.”

“Listen to the doctor. What is it?” He sounded suddenly clinical and she smiled. “Respiratory?” She didn't sound like it though. Aside from the tears, her voice was normal.

“No, the usual horror that comes with this disease. Raging diarrhea. I really thought I was going to die last night. I'm amazed I didn't.”

“You're not going to die for a long time,” he said matter-of-factly, “I won't let you.”

“I've been through this myself, Sam,” Zoe said sadly. “Don't do this to yourself. Remember, that's how I started in this business. The man I lived with got a bad transfusion. I started the clinic because of him. But it was the hardest thing I ever did, watching him die, and I had a lot of good years with him before that. I won't do that to anyone, and I sure won't start that way. That's starting at the ending. I won't do it.”

“Do you regret you did it? Are you sorry? Do you wish you hadn't been with him?”

“No,” she said clearly. She had loved Adam till the end. But she didn't want Sam to go through what she had gone through.

“What if he had said he wouldn't let you? What if he tried to send you away?”

“He did more than once,” she smiled. “I just didn't listen. I didn't go. I wouldn't have left him,” and as she said it, she thought about what she was saying, and then faltered, “but that was different.” And then she wondered. “I would have felt cheated if I hadn't been there,” she said pensively, thinking of Sam. But in some ways she hardly knew him, in other ways she'd known him forever.

“Why are you trying to cheat me?” he said bluntly, no longer willing to be put off, or pretend, or hide his feelings. “I'm in love with you. I think I have been for years. Maybe even since Stanford. I think in those days I was just too stupid to know it. And once I figured it out, you never gave me the opportunity to say it. But I'm not going to let you stop me now. I want to be there for you… I don't care what this miserable disease does to you… I don't care if you get diarrhea, or sores on your face, or pneumonia. I want to help you stay alive, I want to do your work with you, Zoe… I care about you and Jade… please let me love you… there's too little love in the world, if we've found some, let's share it. Don't throw it away. Your having AIDS doesn't change anything, it doesn't make me not love you, it just means that what we have is more precious. I won't let you throw it away. It means too much to me…” He was crying now, and she was so moved, she couldn't speak through her own tears. “Zoe… I love you… if I weren't covering for you here, I'd get on the next plane and tell you in person, but you'd probably kill me if I did that, and left no one minding the store.” He laughed through his tears then and so did she.