Wandering into the kitchen, Meredith searched for something to eat… An old apple. Half a sandwich. The bread was hard, but the chicken salad still smelled good. There was also a quart of orange juice that had aged at least one season in her refrigerator.

Nothing sounded good. She glanced at the clock. Too late for the stores, and drive-throughs were beyond her budget for this month.

Someone tapped on her door. Meredith straightened from rummaging in the crisper as Granger let himself in.

He looked surprised to see her awake. "I'm sorry I thought you'd be asleep. I was just dropping off your purse, and some soup." He set the bags down on the chair near to the door and backed out.

"Wait…"

He hesitated.

"You brought soup?"

He smiled, realizing she wasn't still mad at him. "Soup,crackers and cookies. I figured when you finally sobered up you'd be starving."

"I am." She moved to within a few feet of him."I'm sorry about the way I acted when you were only trying to help."

"Forget it."

"Would you stay for soup?"

"All right, but I cook." He lifted the bag and waited for her to lead the way to the kitchen. Handing her the cookies, he removed his coat and unpacked groceries. He'd also brought along milk with three different kinds of soup.

"I didn't know what you liked," he shrugged, offering her the choice.

Meredith was busy fighting with the cookie package. "Any kind," she finally said as she broke the cookies open And glanced up in time to catch him watching her.

"Want one?"

He shook his head. While she ate four, he warmed tomato soup and poured them both a glass of milk.

They ate at the bar, with their knees accidentally bumping together from time to time. She told him all about the agreement made with Frankie. There was something very comforting about being with a person that you've already made a fool of yourself around. She had no more false pride to lose. Even the fact that she was only wearing an old jersey didn't worry her. After all, he'd seen her in far less.

When they finished, he did their dishes, along with several others sitting in the sink. She watched him, thinking how out of place he looked in her little kitchen in his spotless uniform. She liked the gray at his temples and the solidness of his body. An ounce of fat wouldn't dare land on Granger.

She wondered what he would say if she told him she wanted a king's x from all the things she had said to him. Like the kids on the playground, she wanted to cross her first two fingers and suddenly have all the rules not apply. She wanted to say she needed more than his once-in-a-while lovemaking, and part of her wanted him tonight. If she had to play his game and not touch him when he made love to her, she would. She just wanted him to lie beside her and hold her, just for tonight.

But if she begged him to stay, she would have to face tomorrow and the next day and the next. She did not want to be his midnight lover whom he came to see when he thought no one was looking.

Something she remembered a teacher saying to a collage class drifted through her mind. The best example you will ever give your students, is the way you live your life. The professor was trying to tell future teachers that they cannot live one way and teach another. The "do as I say and not as I do" was never much of an example.

If Meredith continued to live an honest life, she would have to be honest with herself. She was not like the women on TV who sleep with a man whom they had known for hours, then move on to another. Meredith knew that if she gave her heart it would have to be all or nothing. That's how it had been with Kevin despite their problems. That's how it would have to be if she loved again.

She wanted a man to stand beside her, to grow old with her. If it was that or being alone, then she would have to be willing to accept solitude.

"Thanks for the supper, Sheriff."

"You're welcome." He dried his hands.

"Do you think we could be friends?"

"I'd like that." He grinned. "Would that mean I could call you if I had car trouble?"

Meredith smiled. "You bet."

"And if I needed a friend to, say, walk into Frankie's place with me, you wouldn't mind tagging along?"

She fought to keep from laughing. "I'd do that for a friend, and I'd be sure to keep my mouth closed and not try to interfere. And I'd try to keep from bossing you around d we were friends, even if you were drunk."

Granger shook his head. "That might be a hard one, since I seem to need a lot of direction." He studied her closely "But I'd try not to leave my keys in my car, my back dour unlocked, my purse in plain sight…"

"You're making a real effort." Meredith stopped him belure he listed all her shortcomings. "Now, if you'll just promise to curb the drinking, I think we could be buddies."

He winked at her. "It's a deal."

She started to offer her hand, then reconsidered. "Well, good night, Sheriff." She moved to the door as she spoke.

"Do you think since we're friends, and I'm making all this effort, that you could call me Granger?"

She opened the door. "Good night, Granger."

"Good night, Meredith." He stepped past her and walked at his car without a backward glance.

She watched him pull away, wondering if they could ever he friends when she could still feel his hands stroking her breasts. The memory of their night together was so vivid that now it made her ache inside. But one night could be written off as a lapse in judgment. Any more would be an addiction that would tear her apart with its limitations.

Roughnecks worked no matter what the weather. If it got bad they might all be served a "fifty cent overcoat"-a long draw of corn whiskey.

December 17

Montano Ranch


The wind swept down from the north and large flakes of snow swirled across the flat land. Anna had tried to paint all day but it was useless. She hated winters in Texas. What final beauty the country managed to hang on to during the other seasons disappeared with the cold. Everything faded in to dull brown. Not tan, not chocolate, just brown. The Mesquite trees that could almost be tall bushes when green were now only squatty, thorny, useless sticks. The tall grass that swayed in fall, shook in winter, brittle with age.

She watched the sun set, knowing she would look north soon as darkness fell. There she could see Zack's light. then she would feel the warmth of memories.

Carlo and several of the men drove over to Dallas to pick up a load of new mares. They would not be home until tomorrow at the earliest. If the promised storm hit early, they might not return until Sunday.

Several of the hands took time off. With the cold and the holiday season, the work on the ranch slowed. Horses were always, well taken care of, but their exercise time was shortened on days like this.

Her brother worried about her being alone at the ranch. With only a few hands and the oil field workers still squatting near the rig. He insisted on leaving her the old Colt revolver usually kept in the barn to kill snakes.

Anna hated any weapon. Her earliest memory of a hand gun had been watching her father put down a beautiful mare.

The men on her family's ranch stood in a circle, but she could see between them. Her father knelt down, stroked the horse's mane while he placed the barrel of the gun where the bullet would pass straight through the mare's brain. The shot echoed in her nightmares for years. Not even her mother's explanation that her father had saved the horse-from a slow painful death made Anna feel any better.

Anna glanced at Carlo's gun resting on the corner of the hearth. It would be in exactly the same spot when he returned.

She had not visited Zack's place for several nights. In truth, she was a little ashamed of how forward she had been kissing him so boldly when they said good-night. She was a woman who knew her place, her role. In her twenty years she never stepped beyond that place, except when she was with Zack. The first night she climbed over the fence,started an adventure. Anna had no idea how it would end.

Tonight she felt even more alone than usual. Meredith called and talked a long while, then at seven Helena phoned to check in. The older woman sounded tired, but assured Anna she was getting plenty of rest. They made plans to visit Crystal. Anna volunteered to do Crystal's shopping. Crystal wanted to put up a big tree for Shelby with presents all around the bottom. She made the effort of inviting Shelby's children and grandchildren, hoping to have a real family Christmas.

Anna feared Crystal would be disappointed, but still wanted to help her try. She planned to buy gifts anyone might enjoy just in case Crystal wanted to pass them out to the nurses and employees of Howard Drilling.

Anna looked around the great room of her cage. She had not bothered with one decoration. Carlo thought it was proper not to celebrate, with her still in mourning. Anna had bought Bella a teapot and ordered Carlo a new wallet with hand tooling on the leather. The two gifts were as yet unwtppped.

She remembered the Christmases of her childhood with everyone laughing and yelling and eating. Davis had promised her that "next Christmas" they would go back to her home. A promise he had made since their first year together. But somehow "next Christmas" never came. There were alwuys more horses coming in, being sold or needing special care.

She tried to read. Tried to watch an old movie. Tried to eat. Nothing held her interest while she waited for sundown. She would go over to Zack's and tell him she was sorry she had been so forward the other night. She might have given him the wrong impression. She was not ready for a romance. All she needed was a hug now and then. She would survive with that.

As soon as his porch light came on, Anna ventured to the Walkover. She knew the path well by now. She crossed over, then sat on the bottom step and watched Zack moving across his huge front windows. She could not help but laugh. He was trying to decorate a tree and doing a miserable job.

He did not notice her until she stepped on the porch. He hurried to the door, mumbling and frowning. "I didn't expect you so soon."

She took a step backward. "I-I could leave."

"No." He hesitated as if afraid he might frighten her. "Don't go. I just wanted to have the tree up when you came." He glanced at the disaster behind him. "But that may be July."

"Not going well?"

"No." He held the door. "I could use some help, if you'd consider coming in."

When she did not move, he quickly added, "Or I could stop for tonight and we could sit on the swing. This is'nt something that can't wait."

"I can help," she said slowly. "Then we can sit on the swing and look at what we have done."

When she passed him at the door, she was so close she felt his warmth, but she was careful that they did not touch.

His furniture was so sparse, she considered asking him if he was moving in or out. One comfortable chair in front of a bookshelf filled with mostly paperback books. One couch on a worn rug with a coffee table decorated by scatterrd water rings and dents. There were no pictures on the wall. but the hardwood floors were polished to a royal shine and the room looked recently painted.

Bella's doing, Anna thought.

Zack read her mind. "My wife took most of the furniture when she left. Actually, when we married, she got rid of my junk claiming it was worthless. If I'd have known the marriage wasn't going to make the year, I would have stored a little of the junk in the barn."

"I like the space. Too much furniture weighs the room down."

"That's true. I could drive a herd through here."

She moved to the mess by the window. "I like your tree."

"Thanks. I got it half price, it being so close to Christmas." He looked as if he regretted telling her about the cost of the tree. "The ornaments were in a box my mother must have put in the attic. I haven't seen them in years." He picked up one yellowed satin ball. "I'm afraid they're in pretty bad shape."

She lifted one of the balls. "Do you have any paint?"

"Sure." He raised an eyebrow. "What color do you want. It's probably in the barn. My father never threw any paint away as long as there was enough left to cover the lid of the can. I inherited his disease."

"Yellows, as many shades as you have. And bright blue and red."

He shrugged his shoulders as if he thought she was wasting her time, but headed out the kitchen door toward the barn.

Anna looked around. The kitchen table was stacked with papers, mostly bills in disarray. However, the books on the shelves were placed in careful rows, almost like a treasured library. To her surprise, huge travel books filled the bottom shelf and each had tiny slips of paper sticking from them as if someone had marked pages in each book.