“I'm not giving up my career,” she said, looking worried. “Even with all this shit, I like what I do.” And she loved the singing.
“So do I. I would never ask you to give it up. And maybe it won't work living here part of the time. But I'd like you to try it. Let's see what happens. I want to be with you, here, there, wherever. I love you, Tanny. I don't give a damn about what they say about us.”
“Do you really mean that? Even after all this?” She waved the paper at him.
“Of course I mean it.” He grinned at her, and then he came over to where she sat and kissed her. “They said you lured me to bed with promises of buying me a ranch. When did I miss that part?”
“You were sleeping,” she grinned, “I whispered it to you.”
“You're an amazing woman, and I don't know how you put up with all this garbage.”
“Neither do I,” she said, leaning her head against him, as he sat down beside her and put an arm around her. “I hate them.”
“Don't waste your energy. But I'll tell you one thing. You need to be a lot more careful. No more singing at rodeos, no more floating around hospitals thinking no one knows who you are, no more just marching in and buying ranches. Let's get a little sneaky about this, okay? You can hide behind me if you want to. I don't care what they say. In my case, it's probably all true anyway. Let me take the heat for you.”
“Gordon, I love you. I thought you'd never want to see me after today.” She had been so worried as soon as she saw the paper.
“Not likely,” he grinned. “I was sitting here trying to figure out if I could talk Charlotte into a weekend off next week, so I could come to L.A. and surprise you. Maybe with the broken wing now, she'll let me go for a few days since I'll be pretty useless.”
“Would you do that if you can? I'd love it.”
“I'll try. She and I are going to have to sit down and have a serious talk next week anyway. I'd like to start working here part-time after the summer.”
“Don't forget Europe and Asia next winter. It'll be a nightmare,”
“You make it sound terrific,” he smiled. “I can hardly wait.”
“Neither can I.” She looked at him, thinking of how different her life was going to be now, with Gordon to take care of her and protect her. She wanted to be there for him too, but no one had ever treated her as he did.
“Where are we going to be at Christmas, by the way?”
“I forget… Germany… London… Paris… maybe Munich.” She couldn't remember.
“How about getting married in Munich?” he said softly as he kissed her.
“I think I want to get married in Wyoming,” she said, “looking up at the mountains where I found you.”
“We can work that out later,” he said, pulling her to her feet and into his arms, holding her with his good arm, “we have something else to work out before that,” he said, pulling her toward his bedroom. “It's time for my nap.” But she suspected he wanted to see if everything was still working. It was painful to realize this was their last day together. They spent the whole afternoon in bed, while everyone else was riding. He fell asleep in her arms, and she held him for a long time, unable to believe her good fortune. And she had almost lost him two days before. It didn't bear thinking.
Hartley was very quiet that afternoon as they rode alone, he was trying to cope with the idea of losing her, if she didn't come back to him after London.
“Don't do that to yourself,” Mary Stuart said gently when he told her what he was thinking.
“I have to. What if you don't come back? What will I do then? I just found you, and I can't imagine losing you so quickly.” He didn't say it to her, but he knew he'd write about it. It wouldn't change anything, but at least it would allow him to work out the feelings. “You can't promise me you'll be back, Mary Stuart. You don't know that.”
“That's true. But we have so many losses in life. Why taste them before they happen?”
“Because the taste is too bitter when you don't. I'll miss you so much if I lose you,” he said nostalgically, and she leaned over and kissed him.
“I'll do my best to return very quickly.” And she meant to, but he surprised her with what he said next.
“Don't even come back if you can save your marriage,” he said wistfully. “Margaret and I almost divorced once. I had an affair when we'd been married for about ten years. It was very stupid of me, and I never did it any other time. I don't know what happened, we'd been having problems, we were dealing with the fact that she couldn't have children then and it was very difficult for her. She kind of went crazy for a while, and she put a lot of distance between us. I think she blamed me, as much as herself, because she couldn't get pregnant. Whatever the reason, I did it, and she found out. We were separated for six months because of it, and I continued the affair, which was even more stupid. By then I thought I was in love with her, and it was even more complicated. She was French, and I was in Paris with her. I went to New York to tell Margaret I was going to divorce her. But when I got there, I found that everything I had always loved about her was still there, and so were all the things I didn't like as well, and all the reasons why I had cheated on her in the first place. She had all the inadequacies, the neuroses, the irrationalities that made her difficult, and all the things I adored about her as well, her honesty, her loyalty, her creativity, her wonderful sense of humor, her bright mind, her discretion, her sense of fairness. There were a million things I loved about her.” He had tears in his eyes when he said it, and so did Mary Stuart. “When I went back to New York to say good-bye to Margaret, I fell in love with her all over again.” He took a breath and looked out over the mountains. “I never went back to the woman in Paris. She knew when I left that it would happen that way. She'd said so. We had worked out a code. She said she couldn't bear long explanations, and she didn't want them. Two words would do. If I'd worked it out with Margaret to leave her, all I had to do was write, ‘Bonjour, Arielle’ in a telegram. That was a long time ago,” he smiled, “before faxes. And if Margaret and I got back together, ‘Adieu, Arielle’ would do it. She was extremely down-to-earth, and very much no-nonsense. I left for New York promising her she had nothing to worry about, and met my Delilah, she chopped off my hair, won my heart, and I never left her side again… the telegram read ‘Adieu, Arielle.’ And I never saw her again. That was what she wanted. But I never forgot her.” It was a sad story and it touched Mary Stuart. “If that happens with us, Mary Stuart,” he looked into her eyes and meant every word of it, “I want you to know that I won't regret this for a moment, and I will love you forever. I will move on, and I will recover. Arielle married a very important minister, and she became a very successful writer, but I'm sure she never forgot me. I never forgot her.” He smiled wickedly then. “Margaret never forgot her either. I never quite lived that down, but I think she forgave me. It was an awful mess for a while when it first happened. But I just want you to know I won't regret this, it's been the happiest two weeks of my life here with you.” And she had finally helped him get over losing Margaret. He was feeling much better.
“It's been the happiest two weeks of my life too,” she said. “And I won't forget you either. But I don't think I'll stay with Bill, Hartley, I really don't.” And she truly meant it.
“You never know what will happen between two people. See what happens when you talk to him. If I had left Margaret then, I would have missed sixteen more years with her, and they were great ones. Be open to whatever happens. That's the fairest thing I can tell you.”