Way Out West - Part 2

Sunday, 22 July 2001
1545 MDT
Brush Creek Ranch
Saratoga, Wyoming

Mac was impressed with the landscape as she rode in the limousine from the airport to Laramie.  The car from the Ranch was waiting for her there, just as they'd promised.  And now they were entering the property.  It was just like you see in the movies, a big wooden archway with the name Brush Creek Ranch burned into the wood overhead.  She still couldn't see any buildings though.

"Cain't see the buildin's from here.  Still 'bout 3 miles from them," the driver offered, realizing that she was looking around and correctly assuming she was looking for the buildings.  

"How big is the Ranch?" Mac asked.

"Six thousand acres," the driver said proudly, as the car phone rang.  " 'Lo?" he said as he punched the Talk button.

"Hey, Lou, you pick up that city gal yet?"

"Yep, got her right here."

"How soon ya gonna git to the house?"

"In 'bout another minute," Lou answered.

"Bring her 'round to the back, Lou.  Kipper just let loose in the entryway.  Ain't nobody gonna wanna walk through there for a while."

"You got it!" Lou laughed and hung up.

"Kipper?" Mac asked.

"Kipper's the Caldwell's dawg, Ma'am.  He's seen better days," Lou explained.  "He ain't s'posed to be let in the house, but little Janie?  She likes bringin' him inside...then he lets loose.  He cain't help it.  He just got no control no more."

"Oh, I see," Mac tried not to laugh.  It was going to take some getting used to, hearing people talk in such slang and with such poor grammar.  'God, can I take this for 3 weeks?'

Sunday, 22 July 2001
1630 MDT
Brush Creek Ranch
Saratoga, Wyoming

"Good afternoon!" a pretty young woman said as she stood in the doorway to Mac's room.  "I'm Kinta Blumenthal.  We spoke on the phone?"

"Oh, yes!  It's nice to meet you, Kinta," Mac said as she extended her hand in greeting.  "This is a lovely place."

"We think so.  I do apologize for not meeting you downstairs earlier, and for your having to come in through the back.  I'm afraid my daughter snuck my grandparents' old dog in the house.  She knows better, but she does love the old boy.  He had a little accident; I'm sure you could smell it, even coming up the back stairs."

"Not a problem, Kinta.  Actually, my boss warned me about the smells on a ranch.  He didn't mention dogs, though!" she laughed.

"You've never been on a ranch before, as I remember, is that correct?" Kinta asked.

"That's right.  I lived in Arizona and California most of my childhood, but on military bases.  I've never really had much exposure to farms or ranches.  Or for that matter, people who live on them."

"Ah, you mean Lou?  Yes, Lou is quite a piece of work.  You won't find many left like him."

"Really?  You mean he's not what I should expect most of the...what do you call them...hands?  to be like?" Mac asked hesitantly.

"Yes, hands.  That's what we call our employees on a ranch.  And no, most of them are, well, let's just say, not like Lou.  Lou is a great guy, but he sometimes comes across a little...backwards?"  She smiled at Mac's agreement.

"I was really concerned that I was going to offend someone by correcting their grammar!" Mac laughed.  "I don't have perfect grammar, by any means, but ..."

"I understand completely!  When Gilbert and I married and came out here to live with my grandparents, we were both more than concerned about raising our children here.  But it's been the best possible thing.  Grams and Gramps are fabulous people; you'll love them, I'm sure."

"When do I meet them?  And the other guests?" Mac asked.

"At dinner tonight, if you'd like.  Or if you're too tired, I can ask Marie to bring your dinner up to you this once."

"Marie?  I thought the cook's name was always 'Cookie' on a ranch?" Mac laughed.

"It is.  And he's the cook for the hands," Kinta informed her.

"Oops," said Mac.  "Blunder Number 1."

"Not at all, Sarah."

"Mac," she corrected.  "People call me Mac, not Sarah."

Kinta started laughing uncontrollably, shaking her head.  "No!  No!  We can't...we can't call you Mac!" she barely got her words out.

Mac looked at her questioningly.  "Why not?"

"We already have a...Mac.  He gets into all kinds of trouble, and, well...  Believe me, you do not want people to call you Mac around here!"  Kinta was still laughing.

"Okay.  Then I guess Sarah is fine," Mac agreed.  She couldn't wait to meet this other Mac!  "And I'll come down for dinner.  What time?"

"Dinner is served promptly at 7:00 every night.  Marie doesn't like it when anyone's late," she warned her.  "Did Lou show you where the dining hall is?"

Mac nodded.  "Yes, he pointed it out.  Thanks."

Sunday, 22 July 2001
1855 MDT
Brush Creek Ranch
Saratoga, Wyoming

Mac walked into the dining hall just as an older woman came bustling out of the kitchen with a large casserole dish in her hands.  "You must be Sarah," she said.  "Good, I'm glad you're not late.  Can't stand it when people are late to supper.  New people usually are.  Have a seat."

"And you must be Marie.  I'm never late," she said as she took a seat.

"Ha!" grumped Marie.  "You don't even wear a watch.  I'll bet you'll be late a bunch of times before your time is finished here.  Breakfast is at 7:30.  Lunch at 12:00.  Supper at 7:00."  Marie set the casserole on the long table and turned to go back in the kitchen.

"I don't need a watch, but I'll be on time," Mac assured her.  "Can I help you with anything?  Carry anything out?" she offered.

Marie stopped dead in her tracks.  "What?" she asked turning around.

"I asked if I could help you carry anything out here?"

"Do I look like an invalid to you?" Marie snapped.  "Just how old do you think I am?"

"No, Ma'am, not at all.  Quite the contrary, in fact.  I just thought you might want..."

"I don't.  I've been serving this table for as long as there's been a table here.  And I don't need any help.  And what do you mean, you don't need a watch?"  Marie eyed Mac suspiciously.

"I have perfect timing.  Well, almost perfect...within a couple of seconds."

The dining hall was filling up now, and several people were listening to the conversation between the feisty old cook and the newcomer.  "So what time is it now?" one of the other guests asked, looking at his watch.

"1858 and 14 seconds," Mac said.

"1858?  What the hell kind of time is that?" quipped Marie.

"Oh, sorry.  Military time.  That would be 6:58...and 43 seconds, now," Mac said.

The man shook his head.  "I have four minutes past 7:00; you're a little slow," he said triumphantly.

"Actually, Troy, you're a little fast.  I set your watch ahead after the second day here.  I didn't want to make Marie mad every day!  And you are always late," the man's wife spoke up.

Another man in the group piped up.  "Well I have an atomic watch here.  It sets itself by the satellite; it's never but a couple of seconds off, and it resets itself several times during the day.  So let's try that, again," he said looking at Mac.  "What time do you say right....now!"

"1901 and 3 seconds.  Um, sorry...7:01 and...8 seconds now."

"Damn!  She's right!  I mean right smack dead on!  How do you that?" he asked.

"I just have great timing," she said.

"I wouldn't mind trying out her timing," said one of the other men in the room.

Mac chose to ignore the comment.

During dinner, Mac received several offers from the three single men to take her riding, fishing, river rafting, even on an overnight hike!  She politely declined them all.

"Probably a lesbian," she heard one of the women whisper to her husband.

"Stella, that's none of our business," he answered.

"Excuse me," Mac said as she pushed back from the table before dessert was served.  "I think I'll go finish unpacking and turn in.  It's been a long day."  She'd heard enough.  Coming out here alone was probably not the best idea after all.  'I guess it's okay for single men to come here.  But single women?  Obviously not,' she mused.  Mac got up and left the room as several people uttered their "good nights".  But she could hear the discussion explode as she walked away.

"Stella, she heard you!" another woman scolded.

"She did not," Stella insisted.

"Hell, Stella, we all heard you!" laughed the man with the atomic watch.

"Well, she didn't deny it!"

"Probably true, then."

"Ladies and gentlemen, please," interrupted Kinta.  "Sarah is a fine young woman who is going through a very difficult time right now.  She just needs some time to work things through.  I think we can all understand someone's needing to have some private time.  That's why she's here.  Now, please, let's give her the room she needs."

Kinta didn't usually interfere with her guests' conversations.  But Colonel Dale Madison was a good friend of her father's, and if he liked this woman and thought well of her, she had to be okay.  Gilbert reached over and patted his wife's hand.  "Well spoken, Kinta.  And Dale would appreciate it, I'm sure."

Kinta smiled her thanks to her husband, and excused herself to follow Mac.  "Sarah!" she called as she knocked on Mac's door.  "It's Kinta.  May I come in for a minute?"

Mac wiped away her tears and opened the door, pasting a fake smile on her face.  "Of course."

"Sarah, I just want to apologize for my other guests.  That's the first time any of my guests have ever been so rude to another guest.  To the hands, yes.  But never to a fellow guest.  I was just mortified..."

"It's not your fault, Kinta.  Really.  I guess coming here alone probably wasn't the best idea after all.  Maybe I should just go on back home.  I don't think these people are going to..."

"Please, Sarah.  Give them a chance.  Give us a chance.  If you'd like, I can move you into a cabin.  You might like that better than the big house, anyway.  It's much more private, secluded.  And you can either take your meals here in the dining hall or you can eat there in the cabin.  There's a little kitchen and everything.  I think Gramps rented it starting next Sunday, but he said it was to a guy who used to work here on the ranch.  So I'm sure he won't mind taking a room here instead.  Or for that matter, he might prefer to stay at the bunk house with the hands.  What do you say, Sarah?"

"A cabin?  That does sound good, actually.  But I wouldn't want to put anyone out..."

"Don't even think about it.  You're a friend of Dale's," she added as though that said it all.

"Dale?  I don't think I know anyone named Dale," Mac confessed.

"Dale Madison.  You mentioned him when you called.  And I called him to verify..."

"Oh!  Colonel Madison!  I never knew his first name.  And truthfully, I don't actually know him.  I've only spoken to him on the phone once.  He knows my Uncle Matt.  But he is the one who recommended you to me."

"Dale spoke very highly of you.  He also spoke well of your Uncle; he called him a man of high ideals."

Mac smiled.  "Thank you, Kinta.  That's nice to know."  'Imagine that...'

"So, how about it?  Cabin?" Kinta asked, again.

"Cabin," Mac agreed.  "I think that sounds great."

"Wonderful!  I'll have Lou come and get your bags and take you over there.  I know you'll like it just fine.  And since you didn't rent a car, I'll have Marie stock your kitchen for you.  She'll grumble, but she'll stock you well.  And if there's anything special you'd like, you just let her know.  She comes across rather gruff, but she's a dear woman.  She's been on this ranch most of her life.  She was the family's cook and did all the laundry for the hands before Grams decided to open the place up for guests.  And oh, does she have tales to tell!  You should ask her about her favorite summer sometime.  There was a high school boy from Texas working here that year.  Oh, did he ever give her a fit!"

Mac laughed as she put her clothes back in her suitcase.

Sunday, 22 July 2001
2130 MDT
Brush Creek Ranch
Saratoga, Wyoming

Mac finished unpacking her suitcases and took her toiletry bag to the bathroom.  When she unloaded that, she headed back to the living room just in time to hear someone knocking on the wood-framed screened door.  "Marie!" Mac greeted when she saw the woman standing on the porch with her arms loaded down.  Mac opened the door and took one of the bags from her arms, motioning her inside.

"Kinta said you moved out here.  Didn't like my cooking?" Marie grumbled.

"Quite the contrary, Marie.  Your cooking would have been the only reason I stayed in the big house.  You're a great cook!"

Marie smiled her thanks.  "Then why'd you leave?"

"I really wanted some privacy, Marie.  I'm not a very open person, as a rule, and the other guests were a little too pushy for my liking," she explained.

"I can understand that!  This bunch is one of the worst we've had in long time," Marie complained.  "I brought you a bunch of stuff.  But there's plenty more; if you want anything else, you just holler."

"Nothing that I have to cook.  I'm not a cook, by any means.  I can reheat things and cook microwave dinners, but that's about it.  I usually get take-out from restaurants at home," Mac replied.

"Can't do that here," Marie groused.  "Tell you what?  You come on to my kitchen when you're hungry.  I'll have something to feed you.  But don't you tell anyone!  I have a reputation to maintain!" she laughed as she made her way back out the front entrance.

"I just might take you up on that, Marie.  I hear you have some pretty wild stories about this place!  Kinta told me to ask you about your favorite summer here.  Something about a high school boy from Texas giving you fits?"

"God, yes!  He gave me fits!  Cutest fellow, too.  I sure wished I was younger then...Jess was 16, and I was already 23.  Seven years wouldn't make a bit of difference now, but it sure does that that age.  Oh, the stories I could tell you!" Marie said as she walked down the steps.

"I hope you will, Marie.  Good night!"

"Good night, Sarah!  Come on Kipper!" Marie called the old dog.  He didn't budge.  He just laid there on the porch by the rocking chair.  "Kipper!  Come!"

"Oh, he's so sweet!  Look at him.  He reminds me of my dog, Jingo.  He's old, too.  Hello, Kipper," Mac cooed as she squatted down next to the old dog and patted his head.  He opened one eye and then the other and looked at her.  He liked what he saw because he thumped his tail a couple of times before he closed his eyes, again, and went back to sleep.

"I'm sorry about that, Sarah.  I'll send Lou down to fetch him."

"Oh, let him stay.  He's not bothering me.  And he's exhausted, poor thing," Mac said.  

Monday, 23 July 2001
0730 MDT
Brush Creek Ranch
Saratoga, Wyoming

Mac listened to the messages on her cell phone voice mail.  Harm had called twice yesterday and already once this morning.  It was a beautiful morning, so she took her phone outside, sat in one of the rockers on the front porch, and dialed JAG.  Kipper was still there on the porch, lying right next to her rocker.

"JAG Ops, Lieutenant Sims," Harriett answered.

"Good morning, Harriett," she said, not knowing that the three single male guests were just within hearing distance of her conversation.

"Harriett!  Ha...she is gay!" one of the men whispered.

"Colonel!  The Commander has been trying to reach you.  Let me get...oh!" Harriett exclaimed as Harm grabbed the phone out of her hand.

"Mac!  Where are you?" Harm asked.

"Hello, Harm.  You know where I am.  I'm at the Ranch in Wyoming.  You took me to the airport yesterday, remember?"

"I remember the kiss, Mac," Harm said softly.  Harriett smiled.

"Harm, are you going to make me put those kisses in the same category as the ferry in Australia?" Mac asked.

"What ferry in Australia?" he asked.

"Exactly."

"Okay.  But tell me one thing..." Harm started.

"Harm, I do love you.  You know that.  You must know that.  You're my best friend.  But I don't want a romantic relationship with you anymore.  I'm sorry.  That chapter in our lives is closed, Harm.  Please."

One of the eavesdroppers whispered, "Gay, huh?  Doesn't sound like it to me.  I lay first dibs on her!"

But his voice carried on the wind, and Mac heard him.  'Oh God.  Can't they just leave me alone?'  "Harm, let me talk to Harriett, again, please."  A plan had formed in Mac's brain in just those few seconds.

"Okay, Mac.  You take care of yourself.  And call me!  Here's Harriett."  Harm handed the phone back to her.

"Yes, Ma'am?" Harriett answered.

"Harriett, I didn't get the chance to ask you about my little boy.  How is he?  Is he giving you any trouble?"

"Jingo, Ma'am?  No, Ma'am, he's not giving me any trouble," Harriett answered.

"And he's taking his pills okay?  Not crying at night?" Mac continued.

"Pills?  You didn't leave any pills for him, Ma'am," Harriett was confused now.

"Just dissolve them in the tiniest bit of warm water, Harriett.  Then add that to his cup of juice, and he won't even know he took a pill.  Tell my precious little AJ that I love him."

"Colonel, is everything all right there?  Do you need help?" Harriett was very concerned now.

"Harriett, I'm only 3 months along.  No one can even tell yet.  I'm through with men...well, unless big AJ..." Mac let it drop.

Harriett gasped.  "Colonel, I'm going to assume that you're saying all this for the benefit of someone on your end who is listening to you.  Am I correct in assuming that, Colonel?" Harriett asked.

"Yes, Harriett.  Exactly!  And thank you so much for keeping my little boy for me.  This Ranch is really beautiful.  And now that I'm in a cabin instead of the big house with all those busybodies and horny bachelors, I'll be wonderful!  Thanks, again.  Bye now!"  Mac pressed the Off button on her cell phone.  'That should take care of them!' she thought smugly.

"Harriett?  What is it?  What's going on?  Is Mac okay?  What did she say?  What was for the benefit of someone listening?" Harm was still standing there; now Bud and the Admiral had walked up.

"Sir, she just seemed to want...whomever...to think that little AJ is hers...and that she's 3 months pregnant," said Harriett.

"Pregnant?!" bellowed the Admiral.  "Why the hell would she want someone thinking she was pregnant?"

"Well, Sir, the last thing she said was that she moved to a different spot on the ranch and now she was away from all the...'horny bachelors'...as she put it, Sir," Harriett managed.  "I guess maybe one of them was listening to her phone conversation."

"Wasn't just one, Lieutenant," he muttered as he walked back to his office.  'Hell, I'll be clumped in a group like that next week.  Every Ranch has 'em.  Horny hands.  Damn, maybe this wasn't the best idea after all.'

Tuesday, 24 July 2001
1100 MDT
Brush Creek Ranch
Saratoga, Wyoming

Mac sat on the old metal chair in Marie's kitchen, watching her make biscuits.  Marie was quiet today, especially so.  Yesterday afternoon, she had talked Mac's ear off.  Today, nothing.

"I guess I should be going now," Mac said standing up.  Marie was obviously not up for company today.  'I hope I didn't say something to offend her,' Mac mused.  "I'll drop by later to get the sodas."  Mac had requested some Diet Cokes, and Lou was going to get them when he drove to town later in the day.

"You don't need to be carrying those.  I'll send Lou with them," Marie said.

Mac thought she now might know why Marie was so quiet.  "Marie, what was the discussion about at dinner last night?"

"You, mostly," Marie replied.

"Just me?  Or me and my baby?"

"Don't you mean babies...plural?" Marie asked.

"Ah...yes, I thought it might be that.  Marie, I don't have any children.  The three horny bachelors were near my cabin yesterday morning.  They were eavesdropping on a phone conversation I was having, and then I heard one of them 'lay dibs' on me.  So I decided to get rid of them.  I started talking to my friend about her little boy...only as though he was mine.  And then I thought, what the hell?  I'll let them think I'm pregnant, too...that should ward them off completely.  And I think it worked.  I haven't seen one of them around since!" Mac laughed.

"You mean, you aren't pregnant?" asked Marie.

"Nope.  Never have been.  But I do hope to be one day..."

"Tell me about him," Marie asked.

"Oh, no, you don't!  You owe me a story about Jess!" argued Mac.

"I told you a story yesterday; it's your turn!" laughed Marie.  "And besides, you'll get to meet him next week, anyway.  Probably best if I don't tell too many of those old stories with his coming here," she reasoned.

"He's coming here?  To see you?  That's great!" said Mac.

"To see me?  Ha!  No, dearie, he's coming to the Ranch.  He probably doesn't even remember the likes of me, let alone know that I'm still here.  I remember one afternoon when he snuck in the kitchen to get some of my fresh cookies.  He grabbed some and stuffed them in his mouth before I saw him.  I grabbed my broom and started whacking him...chased him right out and told him he'd have corn husk scars on his backside.  He stopped running, turned around, and said, 'You wanna see 'em?' in that lazy Texas drawl he had.  And he had the most gorgeous smile...kind of crooked a little, you know?  I knew he was going to break some hearts.   I was so flabbergasted by what he'd said, I ran back to my kitchen!" Marie and Mac were laughing together as she finished the story.

"So he was a ladies' man, eh?" Mac said.

"Oh, yea.  Mr. Caldwell, he commented a couple of times that summer how glad he was that their little girl was still just a baby!  Well, she wasn't a baby, but she was only 12, so he left her alone.  But the girls at Church?  My God, they flirted with him mercilessly.  And he flirted right back.  That Jess!  He sure was a good looking boy."

"So when does he arrive?  And is he bringing Mrs. Jess?" inquired Mac.

"He's coming alone, according to Mr. C.  He comes in on Sunday, the 29th.  I'll have to bake up some of his favorite cookies and have them in his room.  Hope he's not too pissed off that he's in the big house instead of the cabin he requested."

"Uh oh.  It was him...I took his cabin, didn't I?" Mac asked.

"'Fraid so, dearie.  But Jess was always pretty easy going.  I'm sure he won't mind giving it up for the likes of you.  Especially if you'll invite him over for dinner one night?" Marie hinted.

"Marie!"

Marie laughed.  "Oh come on.  You need a man in your life.  And Jess would be perfect!"

"How would you know?  You haven't even seen the man in...how many years?"

"Lord, have mercy!  It was back in the mid 60s, 1965, I think it was.  My God!  It's been 36 years!  That would make him, what?  52 years old now.  Probably won't even recognize him!" Marie laughed.  "Hell, he's probably fat and bald!"  Marie looked at Mac; she wasn't laughing.  "Sarah?  Something wrong?"

Mac shook her head.  "No, I was just thinking of someone I know who's 52 this year.  And he's far from being fat and...well, actually he is bald!" Mac laughed.  "But it looks good on him.  He's gorgeous.  Incredibly so," she sighed.  "And muscles?  Oh, that man has muscles!  God, he's as hard as a rock...in all the right places!"

"Sarah, dear.  Just what part of his anatomy are you referring to as being 'hard'?" Marie joked with an evil glint in her eyes.

"Oh!  God...no!  No, that's not what I meant.  His chest...his legs...umm, I mean...  He's in the Navy, and he's very..."

Marie was laughing hysterically at Mac's discomfiture.  "I think this is the guy you were talking about earlier...the one you want to have a baby with.  Am I right?"

"Marie, please.  I can't discuss this...him.  He's my..."

"Lunch ready, Marie?" interrupted Troy as he stuck his head through the kitchen door.

"It's not 12:00 yet.  Get out of my kitchen!" she admonished him.

"Well, hello, Sarah.  Haven't seen you around since Sunday night.  Where've you been keeping yourself?"

"I'm staying in a cabin now, not the big house," Mac replied.  'As I'm sure you know.'

"Doesn't mean you can't eat with us, though.  By the way, I'm really sorry about the comments you heard on Sunday night.  I think we'd all had a bit too much to drink that afternoon, and well...  I hope you'll accept our apology and come back and join us for meals," Troy finished.

"Thank you; I'll consider it," said Mac.  

Wednesday, 25 July 2001
1910 MDT
Brush Creek Ranch
Saratoga, Wyoming

Mac sat at the large table in the dining hall.  Troy sat on one side of her and Kinta on the other.  "Sarah, we're so glad you agreed to join us for dinner, again," gushed Stella.  "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for my rude comments the other night.  I know better than to have more than two cocktails, and I'd had five that afternoon!  That's no excuse, but I hope you can understand that it wasn't really..."

"I understand, Stella.  I'm an alcoholic, myself.  I know full well what the effects of alcohol can be."

"You are an alcoholic?  But you don't even drink," exclaimed one of the 'macho men', as Mac had now dubbed them.  "You haven't had anything but Diet Coke since you got here."

'And you would know that, how?' she thought.  "I don't drink anymore.  I've been sober since I was 19.  Well, I fell off the wagon one day...when my boyfriend was murdered.  But other than that..." Mac explained.

"Hey, Marie!" Gilbert called.

Marie came out of the kitchen to see what the boss wanted.  "Yes, Sir?"

"These biscuits are fabulous!  What'd you do differently?" he asked.

Marie just smiled at Mac.  "Me?  I didn't do a thing."  Mac shook her head.  "Enjoy them!"

"But they're different...they've got something in them...it's...Marie?  Marie!" he called as she went back in the kitchen, ignoring him.

Mac offered, "I think it's cheese, Gilbert.  And some garlic powder."

"God, they're good!" he said as the others reached for their biscuits.

Mac was delighted.  Marie was teaching her well.  She might just be able to cook when she left this place in 3 weeks!

After their meal was finished and Marie was serving dessert, one of the macho men invited Mac to go riding with him the next day.  She smiled, but she refused.  "I already have plans for tomorrow, Chris.  But thank you for asking."  'Tomorrow's cooking lesson:  chicken pot pie!'

They all moved into the large living room for coffee and after-dinner drinks.  Another one the macho men approached Mac.  "How about going river rafting with me on Friday?" he asked congenially.  

Again, she smiled and refused, saying that she already had plans for Friday.  'Friday's cooking lesson:  corned beef hash!'  "Thanks for asking, though, John."

When 10:00 rolled around, Mac got up and said her good nights.  The last of the three macho men approached her.  "May I walk you back to your cabin, Sarah?"

She smiled, and said, "Very gracious of you to offer, Tom."  He expected her to refuse, when she surprised them all by saying, "Yes, thank you."

When they walked outside, there lay Kipper, waiting for Mac.  When he saw her, he got up and walked alongside her back to her cabin.  When they arrived, Tom opened the door for her and expected to go in after her.  She stood in the doorway and turned to face him.  "Thank you, Tom.  Good night."

"But, Sarah.  I thought, perhaps, we could have a nightcap together."  Kipper growled at him.

"I don't drink, Tom, remember?" Mac reached down and patted Kipper's head.  "It's okay, Kipper."

"A Diet Coke works for me."

"Tom, I'm not interested.  Not in you.  Not in Chris.  Not in John.  I heard you all on Monday morning outside this cabin...while I was on the phone?" she jogged his memory at his bewildered look.

"I'm sorry about that, Sarah."

"Yes, well.  Fortunately, I didn't know your voices well enough on Monday morning to know which of you called 'dibs' on me first.  And I don't want to know.  But I want you to know...and the others...that I am not interested in any of you.  I've had a very rough year romantically, and I have no desire whatever to start on the roller coaster, again.  Now we can all be friends, if you'd like.  But that's all."

"I think we'd all like that, Sarah.  Friends, then?" he said as he extended his hand.

She took it and they shook.  "Friends."

"So are you really busy tomorrow and Friday?  Or do you just not want to do those things because of jostling the baby around?" he asked.

Mac laughed.  "Yes, I'm really busy.  But I expect to dance with all three of you on Friday night at the barn dance!"  She decided not to tell him the truth about not being pregnant.

"It's a date!"

"No, Tom, it isn't a date.  It's a dance.  And I'm going stag.  But I'd like to dance with you all if you'd like it."

"You got it, Sarah," Tom replied.

"Good night, Tom."

"Good night, Sarah."

"Good night, Kipper," Mac stepped inside and closed the door. 

Friday, 27 July 2001
1600 MDT
Brush Creek Ranch
Saratoga, Wyoming

Mac walked into her cabin and checked her voice mail on her cell phone.  She stripped out of her shorts and t-shirt in preparation for taking her shower.  "God, Harm!  Can't you even go two days without calling me?" she asked as she dialed JAG.  Not that he'd be there on a Friday afternoon at 1800 unless a problem had come up.  "Damn, I should have called him on his cell," she said as she was just ready to hang up and try the other.

"Chegwidden!" 

"Admiral!  Colonel MacKenzie here, Sir.  I was returning Harm's call."

"Mac!  Good to hear from you.  He's already gone for the day.  In fact, I do believe I'm the only fool still here at 1800 on a Friday evening."

"But you're leaving soon, aren't you, Sir?  Your leave begins on Sunday, correct?" she remembered.

"That's right.  I'm out of here for 3 weeks.  God, that seems like a long time," he grumbled.  "How's your vacation going, Mac?  You enjoying yourself?"

"Learning to cook, Sir!  We have a fabulous cook, and she's rather taken me under her wing.  I can make garlic & cheese biscuits to make your mouth water!  The secret is the cheese...you have to use Colby cheese, not Cheddar.  And French toast; I can do that now.  It's always been my favorite breakfast, and I've never known how to make it.  And I learned how to make a real chicken pot pie yesterday, crust and everything, and honest-to-goodness corned beef hash today."

"Sounds like you're at a cooking school not a dude ranch!" said AJ.

"Oh, it's a Ranch, all right, Sir.  In fact, tonight is the..."

"Barn dance?" he offered.

"Yes, Sir!  How did you know?"

"It's Friday night, Mac.  Barn dance every Friday night."

"Ah, so I have three of these to get through, is that what you're telling me, Sir?

AJ laughed.  "Is it really that bad, Mac?  Because if it is, you don't have to stay, you know.  Ranches aren't for everyone.  I just thought you might enjoy it."

"I am, Admiral.  Honestly.  I get a little tired of the macho men...um, excuse me, Sir...the...um..."

"The horny bachelors?" AJ offered.

Mac gasped.  "Harriett told you about that, Sir?"

AJ laughed.  "I'm afraid so, Mac.  So, you're 3 months along, are you?  Taking care of yourself, right?  Not lifting anything too heavy?" he asked as he continued to laugh.

"Admiral, I can explain all that..."

"No need, Mac.  I understand perfectly.  Probably been classified as a horny bachelor myself more than once."  This time it was Mac's turn to laugh.  "Hey!  Is that so hard to believe?  I was young once."

Mac gulped, trying to speak.  "I'm sorry, Sir.  It's just that I find it difficult to imagine you as one of these macho, horny, bachelor men!"  She burst into laughter, again.  

'She's right.  It would be difficult for her to imagine that.  Chegwidden, you really are a damned old fool to ever think that when she doesn't work for you anymore, you might stand a chance with her.'  "Having a good laugh at my expense, Colonel?"

"Yes, Sir!  I'm afraid I am, Sir!  I'm sorry, Admiral.  It's just that I can't picture your being horny!  If you wanted some, you'd get it...plain and simple!"  

"Colonel?!" AJ said incredulously.

Mac gasped.  "Oh my God!  Did I actually say that out loud, Sir?"

This time AJ laughed.  "Yes, you did, Mac.  And I'll say thank you very much.  I wish it was that easy," he mused.

"I can't imagine it would be at all difficult for you, Sir.  I mean, I personally know...God, umpteen women who would drop their drawers in a heartbeat if you so much as looked their way...I mean, um..."

"You're getting in rather deep here, Mac," AJ chuckled.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"Hell, I'm not!  Nice way to start a vacation!  You'll have to introduce me to some of these women when we get back from leave, Mac," he growled.

That comment hurt Mac more than she believed possible.  'Of course he'd want to know who they are.  Why wouldn't he?  He's a man.  A normal man.  Hell, no!  He's not normal.  He's a god!'  Mac finally said, "Sir, I really should go put some clothes on.  I..."

"You're standing there, talking to your CO, and you're not dressed?  How often do you do that, Mac?" he joked.

Mac choked, "Not often, Sir.  I mean I'm not butt-naked or anything; I'm in my...underwear, Sir."

"Both pieces, I trust?"  He was really having fun with Mac.  It sure was obvious they were both on "leave mode".  And he certainly was glad he was alone in the office!

"Yes, Sir; both pieces."

"Lace?" he asked, huskily.

"Yes, Sir," she breathed.

"Mac, don't you think, considering our current conversation, you could drop the 'Sir' and call me AJ?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Sir."

"Mac, you're a long way away.  Believe me, my arms don't reach that far.  By the time we see each other, again, in 3 weeks, we'll have completely forgotten this conversation.  Won't we?"

"Most definitely...AJ."

"Good."

"And satin.  Lace and satin," she decided to continue.

"Mmm, what color?"

"Marine green; what else is there?" she laughed.

"Navy blue," he countered.

Mac smiled.  "I love Navy blue," she purred.  'Especially on you.'

"And red.  You look magnificent in red."

"What about black?  or white?

"All of the above."  'Or...God, to see her in none of the above.'

"What about none of the above...AJ?" she whispered so softly he almost didn't hear her...almost.

"Are you a mind reader now, Mac?" he asked hoarsely.

Mac decided she needed to change the subject.  "How are you getting to the airport on Sunday, AJ?"

'Smart move, Sarah.' "Driving."

"You're going to leave your vehicle there for 3 weeks?  Why don't you just ask Harm or Bud to drop you off?"

"Harm's taking Bud flying on Sunday."

"What about Harriett?"

"I didn't want to bother her; she'd have to get the baby up early and..."

"AJ, your namesake gets them up every morning at 5:00.  You won't be getting her up early, believe me.  You should call her.  Harriett would be thrilled if you asked her for a favor."

"You think so?"

"I know so.  You've done so much for her...for them.  Call her, AJ.  Ask her."

"Maybe I will.  I would prefer not to leave the new Escalade in the parking garage all that time.  Thanks, Mac.  I think I will call Harriett."

"Good.  And tell her I said hello when you talk to her."

"I'll do that, Mac.  I'm glad you're having a good time out there.  Hey, you never did tell me which ranch you decided on...Damn!  Hold on, my cell phone is ringing."  AJ picked up his cell phone from his desk and pressed the Talk button.  "Chegwidden! ... Francesca!  What a delightful surprise.  Hold on a second, Darlin'."  He put the receiver back to his face.  "Mac, I need to go..."

"Tell your daughter I said hello, too.  And have a wonderful vacation.  I'll see you when you get back," Mac said.

"Good night, Mac.  Enjoy the barn dance. But be careful.  You agree to step outside with anyone, and you're agreeing to a roll in the hay."

"Thanks for the warning.  Good night," she whispered before she pressed the Off button on her phone. 

Sunday, 29 July 2001
0835 EDT
Dulles International Airport
Washington, DC

AJ, Harriett, and little AJ sat in the United Airlines departure lounge.  "Harriett, you really didn't have to come in with me.  You could have just dropped me at the curb," AJ said.

"I wanted to come in with you, Sir," she answered.  "You never know when a flight's going to be delayed or canceled.  I wouldn't want you to be out here stranded."

The loudspeaker squawked and a voice announced the boarding of AJ's flight to Denver.

"That's me," AJ said.

"Are you renting a car when you get there, Sir?" Harriett asked as they both stood up.

"No, once I get to the Ranch, I won't need a car.  I'm taking a limo from the airport to Laramie.  A car from the Ranch will pick me up there.  I should be to the Ranch by about 1600."

"Have a wonderful time, Admiral," Harriett said.

"Thanks, Harriett; I intend to.  And thanks, again, for bringing me out here this morning."

"It was my pleasure, Sir.  I'm glad you asked me," Harriett smiled.  She bent down and picked up her son.  "AJ, say bye-bye to the Admiral."

"Bye-bye, Adm'l.  Bye-bye!" the youngster said as he reached out to go to his namesake.

AJ took hold of him before he fell out of his mother's arms,  "Woah, there, boy!"

"Love Adm'l.  Adm'l go bye-bye?"

"Yes, AJ.  I'm going bye-bye for a few weeks.  Can you give me a hug now?  I have to go."

The little boy hugged AJ tightly.  "Love Adm'l," he squealed.  "Bye-bye!"

AJ handed him back to Harriett.  "Goodbye, Sir."

AJ nodded to her as he picked up his carry-on and headed for the gangway.

Continue to part 3.