Western Hospitality

The sleek, black limousine sped westward on a road that appeared to bury itself into the heart of the Rocky Mountains.

"Does anyone really know how we got this vacation?" asked Megs. "I called the travel agent on my ticket and she had no idea who paid for it. Said it was a cash sale."

"I called the airlines and they said the same thing," commented Suz as she picked up a small bunch of grapes.

"Me too," said Mare around a mouthful of cantaloupe.

"So far, so good though," said Chiara.

"Yeah, I don't think someone flew us all the way to Alberta, put out this spread," said Ripley as she waved one hand at the banquet on the table between the bench seats, "just to kill us."

The glass slid down and the driver spoke. "Excuse me, ladies, we're almost there. If you look out the window you will see the gates. We should be at the main house in about five minutes."

They looked at each other. Five minutes from the gates to the main house?

Long and low slung, the house seemed to grow out of the hills. A small stream wound its way down to the Bow river. To their left was the pasture for the horses and to their right the cattle. No one had told them Aspen Hills was a working ranch. They watched as a man on dark palomino galloped pace with the car. The driver sped and so did he till horse and rider were a running blur. The five grinned at each other and laughed. The rider broke off hard to the left and waved at the limousine.

"Well," said Ripley. "I hope we see him again."

"You will," laughed the driver.

They didn't see him again until the next day.

The resort manager, a brunette named Geri, gathered the women in the dining room. "Ladies, before I give you the run of the place I'd just like to go over a few ground rules. She listed off the rules then moved on to the perqs of the resort. "We offer horseback riding, canoeing, tennis, a nine hole golf course as well as a wide variety of the usual spa amenities. I'd like to introduce our staff. This is Chad, he was your driver yesterday." The man tipped his hat and murmured 'Ladies'.

"This is Kyle," she waved one hand at a stocky man with shoulders half way to the coast, "and this is Alex." She tilted her head at the man leaning against the doorframe, black cowboy hat obscuring his face. He nodded at them and as a group they blushed. Geri laughed. After being introduced to the rest of the staff, the small group broke up.

Suz stopped Geri. "You said something about canoeing? Is there a river near here?"

"Yeah, our little creek is deep enough to get you to the Bow. Did you want to go?"

"I'd like that."

"How long did you want to be gone for?" She paused, cocked her head to one side, measuring the other woman. "I'll have Cook pack you a picnic basket."

"I think I'll send Alex with her," Geri said as she listened to Suz's footsteps vanish down the hallway. "Definitely Alex."

They'd been on the water for a little less than an hour when they had their first argument. And they had one every hour as if on cue until they stopped for lunch. The creek narrowed and Alex told her they had to portage a little way before they could join up with the Bow.

"Why don't you set the lunch out while I take the canoe over. I should be back by the time you get done."

She looked at him.

"What?"

"Why don't I take the canoe and you get the lunch?"

He laughed. "I don't think you can carry it."

"I do." She said and, with a little effort, hefted the small craft up and over her head and began to walk away.

"Do you even know where you're going?"

That stopped her in her tracks. Arrogant son of a bitch. She set the canoe down and glared at him. It galled her to admit it, but his knowledge of the area did give him the upper hand.

"You're cute when you're all pissed off, you know," he said as he lounged on the blanket beside the now set out picnic. He bit into a ripe, red strawberry and very deliberately swept his tongue across his bottom lip, wiping away the juice.

"I did not come here to be hit on and insulted by some ranch hand." Even if he did have eyes a shade of green she couldn't name, a mouth she ached to kiss and a butt that made her knees go weak. She tried to drag her mind away from the path it was on, the one that led straight to him but she couldn't. She had to at least try and maintain some semblance of her self control.

"Why did you come here?"

She had no answer for him so he continued speaking as he stood. "You're here for a little fun, a little relaxation. A chance to step outside yourself," he moved in toward her and traced one cheekbone with the back of his hand, the rawboned knuckles rough against her smooth skin. "You're here for a good time."

This was ridiculous. This was insane. This was perfect.

"I suppose you're that good time?" she whispered, her voice gone husky with desire, as she took his face in her hands and kissed him.

His hands skimmed the curves of her torso, tightening flesh as they passed. Somehow she was impossibly cold though her skin burned. She was sure her knees would fail her. The light breeze played the accomplice, ruffling her hair and sneaking invisible fingers up under the legs of her walking shorts, caressing bare skin like a lover.

"I could be. If you wanted." His eyes held hers for a long moment. There was something on his face she could not read. Not quite want, not quite amusement. She did not know. His pupils dilated till the green was almost gone.

She became aware of the rasping, ragged sound of her breath. Of the rise and fall of her chest in sharp counterpoint to his. Of just how little separated them. Of how strong her need was.

"I could say no, couldn't I?" She asked. The idea had just occurred to her. She raked her eyes over his face but the unreadable look had been sublimated by raw lust.

"You can say anything you want. What do you want?"

"You." Oh, God, yes she wanted him.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close as they sank to the soft, warm moss of the creekbank.

Oh, yeah, he was that good time she thought as she surrendered to the heat that threatened to melt her bones.

They arrived back at the ranch a little before sunset.

Chiara woke early the next morning, eager to begin her second full day at the ranch. She was eager to check out the ranch's stable. Geri told her the day before that they had hunter/jumpers and plain, old fashioned all-round ranch horses as well as every type of tack known to mankind.

She was going riding right after breakfast so she came down stairs in her riding gear. As she walked to the buffet she couldn't help but feel the eyes of the men rake over the tight, cream jodhpurs and black hunt jacket, the heels of the knee high riding boots clicking against the hardwood floor.

"You can actually ride in those pants?" Alex asked as she walked past him.

She ignored him.

She was met by Andy, the head groom, chief wrangler and premier horse trainer.

He looked her up and down, though with an entirely different purpose than that of the younger men.

"So, you ride English. Want to try this guy?" He asked and nodded at the biggest horse she'd ever seen. "This is Roman. He used to belong to some showjumper but he was a little crowd shy."

Chiara couldn't stop staring. The bloody horse was taller at his shoulder than she was! He had to be seventeen and a half, eighteen hands. Andy led him out into the alleyway and offered her a hand up. She gulped.

"Ummm, actually, I haven't ridden much in a long time. Maybe I should start off on something smaller." So I don't break every bone in my body when I fall off, she thought.

"Nah, he's a pussycat. We'll have you going over jumps in no time."

The hollow clop clop of horsehooves turned her attention behind her.

"Here's your riding instructor now."

"I thought you . . ."

"Nope, I'm way to busy for that. Alex will take you out."

He was on the horse they'd seen the first day, much of his face obscured by the cowboy hat tugged low over his eyes. "Ma'am," he said, unable to disguise the mocking tone, as he leaned on the saddle horn. "Why don't you mount up and we'll go for a ride. Show you how we do things on this side of the pond.

Andy held his hands out for her to step on and in one almost effortless swing he boosted her into the saddle. She turned the horse and walked past Alex, looking down at him.

Three hours later every muscle in her body hurt, including some she was sure didn't have the day before. Alex had the decency not to laugh at her but she was pretty sure that was only because he was paid not to.

Then she made the mistake of going straight to bed for a nap. Mare had to help her to the tub. She could barely walk.

"Would you be a love and ask Geri if she has a bottle of Wild Turkey?"

"Sure. No problem." After Mare left she slipped into the hot tub and turned on the jets. She closed her eyes and let the water ease her sore muscles. She didn't hear the door open or the heavy, masculine footsteps until they were right beside the tub.

"I believe you requested this," he said and her eyes snapped open to see Alex holding a silver tray sporting a bottle of Wild Turkey and two shot glasses.

"Yeah, but I thought Mare would bring it back," she eased a little further under the bubbling water.

"Are you disappointed?" He set the tray down and perched on the step of the tub.

"No," she said cautiously. Something about him made her nervous. Nervous in a heart pounding, palms sweaty, mouth dry good kind of way. He was a man who would take no for an answer - if you really felt like saying no.

"Good." He poured two drinks and handed one to her. "Slainte," he said and downed the shot.

"Slainte mhath," she said and followed suit.

He tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. "You look like a woman who's been rode hard and put up wet."

The room was suddenly very hot. Alex poured her another drink. She drank this one a little slower. He didn't say anything, just watched her, those impossibly green eyes promising heaven. She had no doubt he could deliver.

"You call that a hard ride? I'm so very disappointed." Suddenly brave, she sat up on the side and grabbed the bottle, took a small drink and reached for Alex. She held the liquor in her mouth as she kissed him. He parted those divine lips, opening his mouth to her insistence.

She parted her teeth just millimetres, allowing a few drops of the body-warm alcohol to slip between them, to give Alex time to prepare. Then she opened her mouth fully. The alcohol burned her tongue as it raced to Alex. He groaned into her mouth and she smiled.

Their tongues snaked together, floating on the river of alcohol between them. There had been some memorable kisses in her life but never one like this, so full of restrained danger. His lips tasted like the night and were relentless.

He buried his hands in her hair, holding her to the kiss as his tongue, tasting of Wild Turkey and him, explored the cave of her mouth. The alcohol danced on her nerves. He gripped the back of her neck hard and ran one hand down her back.

He raised himself up and took generous advantage of the height and weight difference - this time in his favour - to bend her back, arching her chest against his. He broke from her mouth and strew liquor-laced kisses down her throat.

Suddenly he broke off the kiss and looked expectantly at the door, as if listening to a voice meant only for him. His own voice was thick, almost raw with lust.

"I'll be back for you later."

And he was.

This was the life, Ripley thought. No stress, no worries, no charge. She had spent the past two days indulging herself in an orgy of activity. She's played countless games of tennis and gone hiking in the foothills both days. Today was her day to relax.

She lay on her stomach on the massage table, her hair wrapped in some sort of mud concoction the woman swore was good for her and a cooling mask over her eyes. After her massage she was going to go sit in the sauna and then have a facial. This was going to be a good day. She reached for the small bowl of fresh fruit and popped a grape into her mouth and crunched. The cold, sweet juice burst over her tongue and she groaned in pleasure.

Oh, yeah, this is the life.

The door opened and she half listened to someone walk in and fuss with whatever it was masseurs fussed with. Oils and towels and whatnot. She didn't really know. She didn't really care. She reached for another grape.

"Lie back and relax," said a dark, masculine voice.

"I was expecting a woman," she said. "This was supposed to be a full body massage." She wasn't really sure she wanted to be full frontally naked before some man she'd never met.

"It's her day off. Don't worry." His voice took on an entirely different tone. "You've got nothing to worry about. Relax. Why don't you think of this as a liberating experience."

He pushed the towel down to her hips and poured a generous dollop of oil between her shoulderblades, the scent wafting gently to her nostrils. He spread the oil over with the wide palm of his hand. Gently, he worked the oil into hard, tense muscle slowly rubbing harder and harder with the heel of his hand. She moaned low in her throat. This was lovely.

He worked his way down her back, working out knots. Her mind drifted, relaxed, focused more on the sensation of strong hands roaming as they would over her body. The pads of four fingers brushed almost accidentally against the swell of her breast. She tensed slightly and he clucked at her.

"Shush, don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you." His voice fanned over her back like black velvet feathers. "This feels good doesn't it?" She tried to turn her head to face him and reached to take off the mask.

He leaned down by her ear and she could feel his hot breath against her cheek, ruffling her hair. "Oh, no. I don't think so. I want you, shall we say, in the dark about this."

He stood again and pulled off the towel. He added a generous portion of a different oil to the small of her back. Long, firm strokes pulled the peppermint oil down over her buttocks and the tops of her thighs, a thin line of tingle disappeared between them.

She had to put a stop to this.

She pushed herself up on her elbows and half turned, removing the mask. "I want you to stop."

"Why? I thought you were enjoying yourself."

"I just want you to stop. This is making me uncomfortable."

He was infuriatingly just out of her vision.

"Are you sure? I won't do anything you don't want me to do. I just want you to answer one question. What do you want me to do, really?"

An almost painfully precise vision of tangled flesh flashed before her eyes and she whimpered. She wanted him to do that.

"Who are you? Really?"

"I'm Alex. I'm whomever you want me to be. What do you have to loose?"

She missed her facial appointment.

A few hours later the five were gathered in Mare's suite, drinking and laughing.

"Is it just me or is that Alex guy awfully familiar?" she asked as she took another sip of her drink.

"I think so too but for the life of me I can't place him. Any of you guys recognize him?"

"I never got a real good look at him" said Ripley.

"He's not familiar to me at all," said Chiara. "But, then I haven't spent much time in North America. London's a big town, even if he'd been to England."

Suz wandered to the far side of the room and mixed herself another drink. She snapped it back quickly and mixed another one.

Someone knocked on the door. Chad Merchant popped his head in. "Ladies. Some of us are going to town to the bar. We wanted to know any of you'd like to come with us. It's not fancy or anything but it's got a decent band tonight, a big dance floor and a couple three pool tables. If you'd like to come, we're leaving in 'bout ten minutes." He looked at them expectantly.

"I vote we go," said Megs and the others agreed. Twenty minutes later they were gathered around a table at Jake's, Mare's omnipresent large shoulderbag hung over the back of her chair. The band, Summer Storm, was beltin' out Stevie Ray Vaughn's "Pride and Joy" and doing a damn good job of it too.

Kyle flagged the waitress down. "Can we get a bucket of Big Rock. Anybody want anything else?"

Suz ordered a Crown and Coke and Chiara a Wild Turkey.

"So, Kyle, what do you know about Alex? Where does he come from, things like that," asked Megs as she played with her beer bottle.

He laughed, a grin splitting his handsome face. "Alex. That's all I ever hear about since he showed up. You'd think me and Chad were chopped liver." He took a long pull on his beer. "He showed up one day about six months ago looking for work. Mr. James -he's the owner- liked the look of him so he hired him. Turned out better than we thought. He's pretty handy with a gun."

The was a kerfluffle at the other side of the bar. Raucaus laughed drifted over.

"What's going on there?" asked Chiara.

"Rig pigs," answered Chad who picked that moment to appear. "Roughnecks just into town from six or so weeks in the middle of nowhere working on oil rigs. They would have got paid this morning, so they're rich as sin, horny as hell and meaner 'en snakes. I would advise staying away from them. They can get a little pushy."

Alex sat at the bar, watching the little band of women. He recognized them right away - everyone but the Englishwoman - but it appeared they didn't recognize him. He smiled. They were pretty drunk that night. He was expecting the others but they never showed. What the hell was her name after all? Chrissy was the bride to be, he remembered that much.

Mare was just coming off the dancefloor with Chad. She was tall and blonde and she had the most striking eyes. Something about them. He caught Charlene, the waitress.

"Char, will you go ask that woman," he pointed to Mare, "to dance with me?"

"Now, you're a good looking man. I think she'd probably dance with you. Why don't you ask her yourself?"

"Let's just say I don't want to join the party." He smiled at her and she melted like ice cream.

"I don't know why I do things like this for you."

"Because you think I'm cute and you like looking at my butt when you think I'm not looking."

She laughed.

"'Scuse me, miss. That man at the bar, the one in the leather jacket asked me to ask you if you wanted to dance." She pointed at Alex. Mare swallowed hard.

"Yeah, tell him next song."

Char delivered her message and the table watched as Alex walked to the bandstand and spoke to the bass player who spoke to the lead singer. As the last notes of the song died away, the singer took the mike and addressed the crowd.

"Okay, everybody. We're taking a break now, we'll be back in fifteen."

Alex walked to the middle of the rapidly clearing dancefloor and held out one hand for Mare. She rose on unsteady legs and walked down to the boot-slicked floor. What had she gotten herself in for? Alex nodded at the waitress who dropped some change into the jukebox and punched a number.

The early, jangled, almost discordant strains of John Lee Hooker's 'I'm in the Mood' slipped out over the bar.

He pulled her to him. "I hope you like the blues."

"I . . . I know you. You were . . ."

"Shush," he said and lay one long finger over her lips. "I know where I was. Do the others recognize me?" "No." He was swaying his hips against hers in time with the music, his hands traveling over her back making thought difficult, if not impossible. He smelled of beer, cigarette smoke, leather, some cologne she couldn't name and man. That combination of pheromones and testosterone designed to drive all but dead women wild. She breathed deep of him, imprinting the scent on her memory.

The bass line felt deep enough to shudder the house down, as hard driving as a heart beat. John Lee sang, his voice almost a tangible thing. There was naught in the world but Alex, her and that silken growl.

His hands were on her hip, moving them till she recovered enough to pick up the rhythm and she could feel the burn of them through her jeans. A chill ran up her spine.

Never taking her eyes from his she slunk back a step or two and licked her lips. She ran her hands up over her sides and up through her hair never once missing a beat with her hips.

Bonnie Raitt joined John Lee. That was as it should be. It was only right that it be a duet between man and woman. Primal. She held out her arms, inviting Alex to join her. She swayed from the hips up, her head tossed back lost in the music. Alex stepped into her, leaned over and licked her throat from base to chin with the tip of his tongue. Bonnie wasn't the only one who was in the mood for some of his love.

She thought she was going to die. Right then, right there, big death or little she couldn't tell. Her body responded, grinding against him. Lovely. It was nice to know he was as affected as she was.

She slipped away from him, teasing and turned to walk away. He started to sing. "If I can't be with you baby, I don't wanna be with no one else," he and John Lee promised. She stopped dead. He was tight behind her when he took her hands in his and wrapped his arms around her. He ran her own hands over the length of her abdomen, up over the swell of her breasts, back down and over the tops of her thighs all the while singing in her ear.

The lyrics had dissolved into a mutter, a lover's waterfall of half pronounced words and promises when he turned her to him and kissed her. He tasted like ambrosia. He was everything he promised he would be.

The music died and he growled one last time in her ear. "Later," he said and disappeared, leaving her stunned and shaken and alone on the dance floor.

Charlene handed her a drink. "This one's on the waitresses, honey."

It was only later that anyone figured out what happened next. One of the roughnecks asked Chiara to dance, she said yes and from out of no where a big haired, bottle blonde launched herself at the Englishwoman, knocking her to the floor. Ripley and Megs leaped to her defense, pulling the woman off, while Suz helped her up. Kyle and Chad grabbed the roughneck. A couple of his buddies join in and within minutes they were all involved in that staple of western entertainment - the bar brawl.

It was only when one of the roughnecks drew a knife that the bouncers called in the RCMP.

The bar emptied with surprising rapidity. The five, along with Kyle and Chad, the roughneck, his buddies and the woman were tagged as instigators of the brawl and hauled off to spend the remainder of the evening in the drunk tank.

"This is so embarrassing," muttered Ripley. She was sitting up against the far wall of the holding cell, cradling her head in her hands. "I've never been arrested before."

Megs, Chiara and Suz were sitting in the other corner talking. Mare sat beside herself, strangely silent.

"Well, well, well what have we here?" Five heads snapped to the front of the cell. "I was told you were all such nice, law abiding women. The kind the Canadian government wants to come visit." Alex shook his head sadly as he looked at Mare. "Some of you are more law-abiding than others."

"Are you going to stand there and make fun of us or are you here for some useful purpose?" Asked Suz.

"Oh, God, Suz, don't give him the option," sighed Megs. "We'll never get out of here. You are here to post bail aren't you?"

"Nope."

"What! You mean we have to stay here over night?" Said Ripley as she stood.

He laughed gently and the women looked at each other. There was something seductive in that sound. "You've been pardoned. One of the waitresses saw everything and told the cops how innocent you were. Chiara, did you want to press charges against that woman?"

"Nah. It would be too much of a hassle, we're going home in a couple days."

"Good, that's what I figured." He held up Mare's shoulder bag that he had been hiding behind his back. "They do want to ask you about this," he said and pulled out a handful of pens. He was grinning but there was something behind his eyes.

Mare blushed and ducked her head.

One of the officers came to unlock the cell and the women filed out, through the station and into the parking lot. The limo was waiting for them.

"Where are the guys?" Asked Ripley.

"Oh, they headed home about an hour ago. The cops wanted someone to vouch for you guys and Geri sent me. So, what's with the pens, Mare?"

"Yeah, what gives? Do you carry your collection with you or something?" Asked Suz.

Tears welled up in her eyes and her bottom lip quivered. The other women looked nervously at each other. Alex took a step forward.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"I have pen kleptomania," she wailed and stepped into Alex, burying her face in the shoulder of his leather jacket. He put his arms around her awkwardly and patted her back. They stood that way for a long moment then Mare raised her head slightly and winked at her friends. Sniffing sharply she stepped away from Alex and wiped her tears away with her fists. "My name is Mare and I steal pens," she said with an unsteady smile.

The tension broken they piled into the limo and Alex drove them back to the ranch.

As they walked back to their rooms, Suz nudged Mare and pulled her aside. "Smells good, doesn't he," she said and winked.

Mare's eyes widened. "You didn't!"

Suz grinned.

"Do you think any of the others?"

"I think so, maybe tonight's your lucky night. And I do mean lucky."

She was very lucky.

The next day dawned black and stormy, thunderheads masking the peaks of the Rocky Mountains. Megs opened one eye, closed it again and snuggled further down under the comforter. She was not getting out of bed till noon. And she didn't.

A little after twelve there was a knock at her door. It was Alex.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

"We haven't had a chance to talk. I thought we could." He turned to go, "If you don't want to that's fine."

"No, that's not what I meant. I meant why are you here, at Aspen Hills. We were talking last night. Filled Chiara in on just where we knew you from."

"And just where was that?"

"You bought us a round at Chris' bachelorette and you took Robin home. She said you were good."

"Well, I try," he said with false modesty.

She snorted and he smiled at her. "So, what are you doing here?"

"That's none of your business. Why are you here?"

"We don't know, we just got the tickets in the mail."

"I didn't ask you how you got here, I asked *you* why *you're* here." He stared at her until she squirmed and decided to answer.

"It sounded fun. A little exciting - a vacation out of the blue - and a little dangerous."

"You like danger?"

"I like controlled danger."

"So, you like to be in control."

"Yeah." This was getting a little close to personal.

"Hmmm," he said and walked to the door. "See ya 'round."

What! That was it! He was leaving! This was ridiculous. With a small scream of frustration she fell back on her pillows and lay there for a moment, annoyed.

She was in the shower when she heard the door of her suite open and close and the rattle of a cart. Thinking it was the maid coming to tiding up she ignored it. A few minutes later she realized she couldn't hear any noise from the room.

Suspicious, she stepped quietly out of the shower and wrapped herself in a thick, sky blue bathrobe. She opened the door and took two steps around the corner into the bedroom.

Nothing. She must be hearing things.

She turned around and bumped rather solidly into Alex.

"Where do you think you're going."

"Back to my shower."

"Why shower. You're just going to get all dirty again before I'm done with you." He smirked at her.

She gulped.

"I don't think I like that." Why in hell had she said that?!?!?! Right now breathing didn't sound as good as getting dirty with him.

He thought for a moment and then with a 'your loss' shrug of his shoulders stepped around her for the door.

"Wait."

She swallowed hard and spoke again. "I didn't mean that. I just don't know what you want."

"You shouldn't say things you don't mean. It muddies the waters and then no one knows what they're standing on. I want what you want. A good time. A little fun. The pleasure of your company. You're a lovely woman," his eyes slowly traveled up and down the length of her body. "What do you want?"

"To be in control." She licked her lips.

He tipped his head to one side, "All right. One condition."

"What?" They moved into the bedroom.

"If I can't move, you can't see. Or vice versa, take your pick."

The world was dark. Dark and warm, almost comforting like a soft summers night at the end of a perfect, lazy day. She wasn't even sure where he was, he had trusted her to tie the blindfold as she had trusted him to handcuff himself to the headboard. Her hair fell wet and thick against the back of her neck. It was the only cool spot on her body.

Gingerly she turned around and stepped forward.

"Two small steps straight ahead," said Alex. "Good, now put your hands out, you'll feel the end of the bed.

She knelt on the bed and patted around with her left hand. She found his foot and ran her hand up over his calf to his knee. She crawled up and continued mapping his leg. He moved and snapped in a quick breath. She must be getting close. She removed her hand and crawled one more big step.

"I want to kiss you but I need your help." She laughed slightly. "I don't want a bloody nose." She touched his chest and felt one nipple constrict. There would be plenty of time for that later. She stretched her face up to his and he directed her.

A shudder ran hard and fast up her backbone as she settled her lips on his. He traced his tongue over the outer rim of her bottom lip sending shockwaves through her entire body. She knew his eyes were open and the thought of him watching her every reaction made her want to scream.

He broke off the kiss. "Lean forward a couple inches, tip your face down and hold still." He kissed her entire face, spending what seemed like eternities on her eyelids before moving to her cheekbones and then her jaw. He kissed her mouth again, hard and forcefully and she opened to him, met him half way.

This had to be the most erotic thing she'd ever done. Nothing would ever be the same again. Nothing was.

Three days later the Calgary airport was the scene of a very sad parting.

"I'll never forget that. Thanks," whispered Megs and she kissed him letting one hand trail down his back to come to rest deliberately in one back pocket.

"Me either."

He walked Ripley to her gate. She ran her hands nervously up and down the lapels of his jacket. Suddenly she kissed him rather fiercely. "I'll miss you," she said and ran for her plane.

"If you're ever in my neck of the woods," said Suz. She let her voice drift off as she reached up and touched his face. He covered her hand with his and gently kissed the underside of her wrist.

"We'll go canoeing. And I'll even let you carry the damn canoe," he said smiling regretfully.

Mare held his hand as they walked down the concourse to her gate. "Bye Alex," she said and kissed him, slipping her hands under his jacket. The attendant made the final call for her plane and she pulled away from him.

"We'll have to go dancing again sometime, do it properly the next time," he said.

"We will," she said and grinned at him.

Damned if she hadn't stolen his pen.

Chiara's was the last flight to leave. Alex couldn't follow her into the international lounge.

"If you're ever in London," she said and slipped her address into his pocket.

"I might take you up on that." He grinned. "I get around."

"That you do," she growled. "That you do." She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him hard.

"I just have one question, Alex. Why was I invited? I know why the others were, you knew them from before but why me. I don't know you."

He smiled. "You just don't remember." He reached out and touched the tip of her nose with one finger. "Think on it." He said and walked away.

Later that evening he was relaxing in his room when Geri knocked on the door.

"Alex," she said, her tone puzzled. "Just how many women helped you out when you were, um, on the run from your alter image's, well, image."

"I've never really counted, Ger, I've never really counted. But I know all their names."

She reappears on the stage and holds up her hand for silence. "Thanks, I'd like to thank a few people. First, I need to say that I stole the idea for the story from a great, fun song by Matraca Berg. It's called "Back in the Saddle" and is copywritten by Matraca Berg and Stan Lynch. It' goes a little something like this:

I came down from the Cadillac dude ranch, health spa
Nestled on the edge of town
For fourteen days I've been herbal wrapped, mud packed
Now I'm bustin' out.
Well, I thought the wild west wasn't for me {till}
You walked up like a bow-legged dream
When you said yes, ma'am I thought I'd scream

(Chorus)
(Deleted for Space)

Well, it must've been the burned out new age coffee house
So called sensitive guys
I never thought a leatherneck suckin' on a long neck
Could make my temperature rise
But you're so sweet baby, you're so fine
You bring the barbecue and I'll bring the wine
We'll dance all night 'til your belt buckle shines

(Chorus)
(And again deleted because this was three pages)

Well, I might be in a yuppie funk
You might think I'm a little bit drunk
But all I know is a hunk is a hunk.

The video has Matraca and some of her buddies busted on a drunk and disorderly and generally being rowdy. You don't have to like country music to see how that might apply to us. Summer Storm, Jake's bar, the James family who own Aspen Hills and the regulars belong to my realfic Seduction of a Cynic. As does Kyle who is a cowboy there too. Chadwick Merchant is a transplant from an as yet unwritten mystery novel called The River of Hate where he is not a cowboy but a professional hockey player.

John Lee Hooker's "I'm In the Mood is from his amazing album The Healer and was written by JLH and Bernard Bessman. They own the copyright.

I also need to thank my willing victims who so graciously appeared in my very first listfic. You took a chance on me and I thank you. I hope no one was disappointed. There's food and drinks in the banquet hall.