The Ranch (42 page)

“You think he's all right?” Tanya leaned over and asked Hartley.

“I think he is, probably. They'd have taken him away or called for the paramedics if he wasn't.” But it shocked all of them to see how many of the cowboys left the ring obviously injured. They limped out, they held their backs, dragged their legs, cradled their arms, their heads were banged, their guts were hurt, and they came back to do it again three days later. The announcer even congratulated one of them for coming back after he'd gotten a “real bad concussion ridin’ the bulls on Wednesday.” As far as Tanya was concerned, it wasn't brave, it was just plain stupid. But this was the world they lived in. Even the five year olds were out in the ring during the intermission chasing raffle tickets and tickets for free days at the county fair tied to the tails of calves and young steers, and Mary Stuart kept complaining to Hartley that they were going to get trampled. But this was how they lived in Wyoming. It was like the running of the bulls in Spain, it made sense to them. But even to Tanya, who had lived in Texas, it all looked dangerous and more than a little crazy.

“This macho shit is going to kill me,” she said to Hartley as they watched one young bull rider nearly get killed when the bull dropped him unexpectedly and then stomped on what must have been his kidneys. They called an ambulance for him, but he still crawled out of the ring, nearly on hands and knees, with some assistance. And the audience cheered him. “This is a lot worse than what I do,” Tanya said, and Hartley and Mary Stuart laughed. And a little while later, she went back to the bronc pens to check on Gordon.

“Are you okay?” she asked with worried eyes when she got there. She had given Mary Stuart back her hat, because she didn't want to get it dirty, or lose it if someone grabbed it from her. That happened to her sometimes. People snatched articles of clothing from her and ran off with them as souvenirs. It was really annoying, and always scared her a little. “How's your arm?” she asked him quickly, and he smiled at her concern. She could see that his hand was swollen, but he had put ice on it and claimed he didn't feel it.

“You're lying, you big fool. If I shook your hand right now, or held it, you'd probably hit me.”

“No, but I might cry a little bit,” he teased, and she laughed at him in spite of herself.

“You people are nuts,” she scolded him. “How's the guy who got stomped by the bull?”

“He's okay. He didn't want to go to the hospital. He's pretty tough. He'll be peeing blood for a week, but he's used to it.”

“If you keep doing this, I'm going to kill you,” she said fiercely. “It's bad for my nerves.”

“You're good for my nerves,” he said, moving closer to her, and she could smell his aftershave mixed with the smell of horses. He noticed a couple of people watching her then, and turned so he would block her from their line of vision. It was Saturday, and there were more people here tonight, and a lot of them were drinking. “I want you to be careful when you leave, Tan. You hear?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, and saluted. She wasn't worried. She liked to think she was invisible, or that she wouldn't be recognized if she didn't want to be and wouldn't make eye contact with them, but he knew better.

“People know you're here, Tan. Tell Hartley to get the cops to help you out. It's Saturday, and a lot of people are drunk out there.”

“I'll be fine,” she reassured him. “I'll see you later.” She touched his cheek then and disappeared, and he watched her for the rest of the rodeo, sitting in the bleachers. He didn't see her leave, because he was talking to some of the other men. They were talking about a cowboy who'd been disqualified from the saddle broncs, and offered a reride but refused it. The politics of cowboys.

Mary Stuart and Hartley made their way out with Tanya between them, and they could see the security nearby, keeping an eye on them, and several of the local police. And there were the usual cluster of fans, waving pens and begging for autographs, and a number of them took pictures of her, but it was all harmless, and Tanya didn't feel threatened. And they were twenty feet from the bus, when two men shoved their way in front of her and there was a flash of cameras, and she noticed a TV videocam just behind them. They were the local newsmen and they wanted to know what had made her sing the anthem, and if she'd been paid, had she ever been to a rodeo before, and was she going to move to Jackson Hole now. She tried to be pleasant with them and still make her way in a forward direction, but they provided a roadblock and she couldn't get to the bus and she couldn't move them, and the security people were so busy pushing back fans that they were helpless to assist them. Hartley tried moving the reporters on, but they provided a wall in front of them, snapping photographs, taking videos and shooting questions at her, and suddenly it was as though they had sent up flares. All the fans in the area realized where she was and what had happened, and she couldn't get past the cameras to safety. Tom had the bus door open for her, but he was instantly shoved aside, and a dozen fans poured into the bus past him, looking for her, grabbing things, trying to see what they could, taking pictures. And the police were suddenly shoving everyone, as Tanya was pulled and her shirt was torn, someone yanked her hair, and a drunk standing next to her tried to kiss her. It was terrifying, but through it all she kept trying to shove her way past the newsmen but they wouldn't let her, and Hartley and Mary Stuart had been separated from her by a seething mass of fans who wanted to tear her limb from limb. They didn't know what they were doing. They just wanted to have her. The police had their bullhorns out by then, and they were warning the crowd to stand back, and shouting at the cameramen who had started it, and by then there were fifty people on the bus and they were tearing down the curtains. And as it was happening, Tanya realized she was really in trouble. She couldn't get away from them, and they were pushing her, grabbing her, clawing her. There was no getting away from them, and in the midst of it all she felt a powerful arm around her waist, and felt herself lifted off the ground as she saw a hand punch someone, but she didn't know who it belonged to. She was being dragged along the ground, and then lifted into the air, and half carried, half dragged toward a truck. She thought she was being successfully kidnapped, and then she saw that it was Gordon. He had lost his hat, and his shirt was torn too, but he had a look in his eyes that said he was going to kill someone if they touched her. He was the only thing standing between her and real destruction. The police were far behind them.

“Come on, Tan, run!” He shouted at her, pulling her along, as the others tried to follow. He had parked his truck as close as he could to the crowd when he saw what was happening, and left the engine running, and her feet pounded as hard as they could on the rough ground, as four marshals on horseback galloped past them. But they had reached Gordon's truck by then, and he pushed her inside, leaped into the driver's seat, and took off, nearly running over half a dozen people and several horses. But he didn't stop for anything. There was literally a riot behind them. He kept his foot on the accelerator until they were a mile away, and then he pulled over and stopped to look at her. They were both shaking.

“Thank you,” she said in a trembling voice. She was shaking from head to foot. It had been awful. It had been one of the most dangerous situations she'd been in recently, because the crowd was uncontrolled and she didn't have adequate security to help her. If he hadn't been there, she might have gotten killed, or badly hurt, and they both knew it. “I think you saved my life,” she said, trying not to cry as he took a deep breath and looked at her, wanting desperately to protect her.

“Don't tell me saddle broncs are more dangerous than that. Give me some mean son of a bitch horse any day compared to that stuff. What happens to people? Those are perfectly normal folks out for a Saturday night at the rodeo. They take one look at you and they go nuts. What is that?”

“Crowd craze. I don't know. They want to own you, even if they have to tear you apart to do it, even if they come back with just a piece of you, a shirt, a piece of hair, an ear, a finger.” Her head hurt, so many people had pulled her hair trying to get a piece of it to save. It was truly an insane business. She was smiling, but neither of them thought it was funny. She had hated leaving Mary Stuart and Hartley to fend for themselves, but she couldn't help them and she knew the police would.

“It was those goddamn photographers,” Gordon said, putting an arm around her and pulling her close to him. She had just told him about the pulled hair and he couldn't believe it. “If they'd let you through, you could have gotten on the bus and you'd have been okay. But those assholes put up a roadblock so they could get a story.”

“Well, they got one. A lot better one than just asking me if I got paid to do the anthem.”

“Shit,” he said, shaking his head. He could just see the headline. T
ANYA
T
HOMAS CAUSES RIOT IN
W
YOMING
. He could see now how her life got out of hand so easily. He wondered how she stood it. “Is this worth it to you, Tan?” he asked, looking at her, he honestly wondered why she did it.

“I don't know,” she shrugged, “sometimes. It's what I do. I used to say I was going to retire, but I don't want to let them win. Why let them stop me from what I want to do just because they make my life miserable?”

“Yeah, that's true. But maybe you need to rethink this. You got to protect yourself somehow.”

“I do. At home I've got security and barbed wire, electric gates, cameras, dogs, all that stuff,” she said as though it were normal.

“Sounds like Texas State Prison. I mean something else, some way that people aren't going to rip your hair out of your head every time you go buy yourself an ice cream.” He was deeply impressed by what he'd just seen and more sympathetic than she knew. As far as he was concerned, it was inhuman.

“Can you get me to a phone?” she asked then, looking worried. She wanted to call Tom on the bus, and let him know she was all right and hadn't been abducted by a stranger. She'd been kidnapped by a friend, she smiled at him, and told him what she thought when she first felt his arm around her. He had been so powerful she knew she had no hope of resisting.

“Poor kid. All I wanted to do was get you out of there as fast as I could.”

“And you did,” she said gratefully as he stopped at a 7-Eleven. He watched carefully as she used the phone, to make sure no one had recognized her, and Tom answered on the first ring. Hartley, Mary Stuart, and the police were waiting with him. They knew that if she was okay, she'd call the bus, and Hartley had suspected that it was Gordon who had taken her, but he hadn't wanted to say it. They had said only that she had friends at the rodeo, and they were hoping she had gone with them. Mary Stuart was immensely relieved to hear her.

“Are you all right?” she asked, still shaking herself. It had been a horrible experience even for them, and it reminded all of them of how difficult Tanya's life was.

“P'm fine. I look a mess, but nothing's broken. It just scared me. I'm really sorry, Stu. Is Hartley mad?” It was a miserable experience to go through. When she was single, before she and Tony were married, there were guys who wouldn't go out with her, because they said trying to take her to a movie was like college wrestling.

“Of course not,” Mary Stuart said, incensed, “not at you. He's furious at the press for what they did. He said he's going to call the owner of the paper and the local news station tomorrow.”

“Tell him not to bother. I'm not even sure they were local. Someone may have tipped off the wire services, or cable TV. I didn't see where they were from. It doesn't make any difference. They won't do anything about it anyway. How bad does the bus look?” Mary Stuart looked around, still upset by what they'd done. The fans had grabbed ashtrays, cushions, broken some plates, torn the curtains down, but none of it couldn't be repaired. The driver said something to her and she repeated it to Tanya.

“Tom said it's as bad as Santa Fe, but not nearly as bad as Denver or Las Vegas. Does this happen to you regularly?” Mary Stuart looked even more aghast at the list of comparisons. Poor Tanya, what a nightmare.

“It happens,” Tanya said quietly. “I'll see you later,” but Gordon touched her arm then.

“Don't make any promises,” he said softly, blushing faintly. He would have suggested going to a roadhouse just for a drink so they could relax, but he didn't dare. He really wanted to take her to his place to unwind, so they could talk and sit by a fire. He didn't want to sit outside with her tonight. She'd been through too much, he wanted to take her home and put his arms around her. And who knew what might happen. Tanya read volumes in his eyes and nodded with a smile.

“Don't worry about me. I might be home late. I'm in good hands.”

Mary Stuart knew Tanya was with Gordon. “See you tomorrow then?” she teased, and Tanya laughed.

“You never know. Give Zoe my love and tell her she picked a good night to stay home. And tell Hartley again how sorry I am.”

“Stop apologizing. We're sorry for you. And thank our friend for me. He did a good job.”

“He's a good man.” Tanya smiled at him as she stood in the phone booth.

“I think so,” Mary Stuart said softly. “Take care of yourself, Tan. We love you.”

“I love you too, Stu. Good night,” she said, and hung up, and then turned to him and he put his arms around her. He just stood there holding her, and then he put her in his truck, and drove her home to the little cabin behind the corral. He drove in as quietly as he could and turned the lights off, and they sat there for a moment. It had been quite a night for both of them, and Tanya was still feeling shaken. His bronco ride had been nothing compared to what came later.

“Are you okay, Tanny?” he asked gently.

“Yeah. I think so.” They were about a quarter mile from her cabin, but she had no desire to go there. “Stuff like that always shakes me up for a while.”

“Do you want to come in?” he asked. He would have understood if she didn't, if she wanted to go home and go to bed. But he wanted to be with her, and even though this wasn't allowed, it was better than being seen coming out of her cabin. He would have lost his job in either case if someone saw them together, but Gordon had decided days before that he thought she was worth it, “You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Tanny,” he said kindly. “I'll take you back up to the cabin if you like.”