US-95 lay at an angle off Magic Carpet’s right wingtip. In theory, Jennlynn could have filed an instrument flight plan to help keep her rating current, even though it was a gorgeous, clear-blue-sky day. But filing IFR would mean that she’d have to be flying direct over some pretty empty and dry country, which was usually not a good idea. While she didn’t have to use roads for navigation, she tried to stay within gliding distance of a paved highway, just on the odd chance that she might have to put her little Cessna down in an emergency. After all, it was over thirty years old, and a major overhaul of the engine was probably on the horizon.

Worse, filing instrument was something else to mess with, a distraction. Really, she didn’t need that right now; she had more than enough to think about.

How the hell had this happened?

She knew damn well when she mouthed off to that idiot Wolfowitz from N&J Manufacturing this morning that it wasn’t the right thing to do, but she just couldn’t help herself. After all, she’d told him and told him, and he just wouldn’t take what she’d said for an answer. Yes, it could be done his way if they wanted to take twice the time and for five times the cost. She thought they’d had it worked out, and she and her team had spent days getting the new atomizer specs worked out, then the asshole had called and demanded that they do it the old way, and she’d blown up. Not just a little, either; Stan had said that they’d heard her screaming on the next floor.

Realistically, when Stan called her to his office a little while later, she fully expected that she’d be shown the door. Hell, she knew it wasn’t right to piss off a customer like that, but her stress level had been so damn high that she just couldn’t help herself. She was beginning to think that she just couldn’t hack Lambdatron after all, as much as she’d enjoyed working there the last eight months, and the summer before that. It had been fascinating work, the stuff of dreams right from the beginning, and she’d done well. But the damn stress . . . when she walked into Stan’s federal disaster area of an office, she was just about ready to hand him her resignation to be spared the reaming that she knew she deserved and would not have taken very well.

But to find Sam and Maureen already there . . . and what they’d proposed . . . it was just downright unbelievable. It was a total reversal of the policy that she and Sam had worked out over a year before. She remembered back to when she’d called Sam right after her interview and raised the question of continuing to work part time at Bettye’s, and he’d called back a couple days later after having raised the issue with Stan and Maureen. No problem for the time being, he’d said, but when she went to work full time they might have to rethink things a bit. Then, last spring when she went to work full time, there had been an agreement that she’d let the card expire and hang up her five-inch spike heels.

She’d known it was going to cause problems, but she’d thought now that she had a real career, maybe it was time to grow up and join the real world. It had been damn agonizing there toward the end of the summer, but then Maureen had introduced her to Brock from Alro. Physically they were a match, and they had an intense weekend, but on a personal level they didn’t hit it off. He was a domineering asshole who liked to sleep around, and he wasn’t as good as he thought he was. But he’d done an adequate job of relieving the tension, in spite of her reservations, and she’d called him up a month or so later, suggesting another round. She’d been surprised to be turned down – she’d worn him down pretty good, and he didn’t like women who out-dominated him both personally and in bed. She’d told a lot of men to buzz off over the years, but it was the first time she could recall that she’d been turned down on a serious noncommercial proposition. That it had also been the first noncommercial proposition she’d made in over two years made it all the worse.

It would have been nice to have a regular guy, a boyfriend, and Brock had sort of been intended to work in that direction, even though it hadn’t worked out. It would have been nice to be that conventional – but it had been a long time since she’d had enough interest in a guy to want to even consider working toward a regular relationship. Probably the experience of working as a prostitute had something to do with that, but she realized there was something deeper, too. As close a friend as she was with Shirley and Sam and Maureen, who were about her closest friends anymore, they really weren’t that close. After all, there had been a touch of sorrow but no agony to fly away from Shirley up at Bettye’s after her last weekend up there. And as much as she liked Sam and Maureen, there was a period this morning when it seemed like she might not see them again, and it didn’t feel like it would be leave a huge void in who she was. She’d come to realize that she was a loner at heart. While she didn’t mind being friendly with people under the right circumstances, there was a limit to how close she’d let them get to her, and that limit was well shy of even starting to be something like Sam and Maureen had.

The real problem was her strong sex drive, which had hung around her neck like an albatross for over four years now. She had thought of bringing the problem back to Sam and Maureen again, but decided that once was enough. It wasn’t right to ask them to be her procurers, after all. So, she’d just turned back to work. Phoenix was a strange town to her, and she didn’t know anyone except the people at Lambdatron, anyway; that obviously hadn’t helped with the problem of finding a boyfriend, either. They were way backlogged at Lambdatron and putting in a lot of hours, so there really wasn’t time for a social life. About all she’d done for relaxation was every now and then give Magic Carpet a good waxing and polishing, then climb in to fly for a couple of hours to someplace where she could get gas and a cup of coffee, then fly back. Sometimes it almost made up for not having a social life or a sex life. Thank God she had this little Cessna!

It would have been nice to have a job where she had a little more to do with aviation. The work at Lambdatron sometimes got around the edges of it, but never into a cockpit or into the air. Well, not quite. Once they had to get a roll of prints to Los Angeles as soon as possible, and Magic Carpet at 100 miles an hour could beat a jetliner at five times the speed, just by avoiding all the hassles at the airports at either end. The customer had an office not far from Brewer Field, and a rep from the company met her at the airport. It had been a relaxing afternoon, one of the better ones.

It had seemed strange to fly into the LA area again, even after having been there for four years, and flying around there for three of them. Roseanna was down there somewhere, she figured, but she hadn’t heard from her much since the end of their junior year, when Norma had graduated and the two moved in together permanently. She’d seen her around campus maybe a half a dozen times that last year, but had done little more than say "hi" – obviously embarrassed to be around her former roommate, less because she was a prostitute than because she was a hetero.

Jennlynn had never updated her freshman year profile with the student housing office, and Marcy, the girl she’d gotten stuck with as a roomie her senior year, was a real God-boxer and would rather talk religion than study. They’d never even gotten slightly friendly. Jennlynn had never even hinted at what she was doing up in Nevada when she went up there once a month, or even that she was going to Nevada at all. One time, when she’d told Marcy she was going away for the weekend, her roomie had asked what she should say if someone should call. "Just that I’ll be back Sunday night," she’d replied. A couple times Marcy had tried to pry into her mysterious weekends, but Jennlynn had bristled enough to make it clear that it wasn’t a subject for discussion. She snickered a little at the thought of how high into orbit Marcy would go if she knew that she’d spent a year as a roomie with a Nevada prostitute.

But without having an at least semi-friendly face like Roseanna around, things had been really lonely her senior year at Caltech, and she’d literally been counting the days until graduation. She’d arranged for a permanent apartment a month early, was down to living out of a suitcase the last week in Pasadena, and had Magic Carpet in the air within an hour after graduation, heading for Phoenix.

In that lonely year, Bettye’s had seemed just about like home. There were friendly faces, and she always knew she was going to relax and have a good time. The last time she’d done a weekend shift had been nine months before in April, not long before she graduated. Shirley had told her she was welcome to come back any time she wanted, but by then it had been pretty well worked out that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea with her at Lambdatron.

It seemed an era in her life had ended. Although she’d started at the Mustang two years earlier in deep dispirit, it had worked out, especially after she’d found Bettye’s. It had turned into a joy in her life, and had kept her going in many ways, both financially and spiritually. As she took off from Bettye’s dirt airstrip for the last time, she’d reflected that it probably had been the best move that she’d ever made, and it was going to be sad to have that part of her life behind her. She’d pretty well made the decision that she was going to have to turn her back on it, and although Shirley had asked her to call or drop by just to shoot the bull if she felt like it, they’d both agreed it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

So, when she walked out of Stan’s office not much over an hour before, still bewildered by the sudden and unexpected change in wind direction, the first thing she did was go back to her office and call Bettye’s – and received another surprise, this one disturbing. Very disturbing.

A strange woman with a voice she didn’t recognize answered the phone. When Jennlynn asked for Shirley, she was told, "She ain’t here no more."

Strange, Jennlynn thought, but knew that the long range future of the place hung on Bettye’s bad health. Something must have happened to the mysterious woman she’d never met. Still, Shirley was a friend. "Do you have any idea of where she is?" she’d asked.

"Nope, no idea." the woman said. "She packed up her stuff, loaded her horses in the horse trailer and split."

That didn’t sound good, but then, if the ownership had changed hands, the new owners might have wanted to run the place themselves. "Well, anyway," Jennlynn said. "I used to work up there, and I was wondering what the chances would be that I could come up for a weekend some time."

"We don’t do weekend girls no more," the woman said. "Two damn much coming and going. You got to work a full shift or nothing, and plan to stay on the property, too."

"No way I can get away that long anytime soon," Jennlynn sighed, more than a little dismayed at the change in the place. My God, she thought, the new owners have turned it into a lockdown! There was no way in hell. "Thanks anyway," she said politely, wondering what the hell she was going to do now.

Since discovering Bettye’s in her first month in the business, she really hadn’t given any thought to working anywhere else. She’d heard gossip from people like George about other houses, but really hadn’t paid much attention. Now, she was going to have to find a house that took weekend girls, one that was a fairly friendly place and also had an airstrip close by. That wasn’t exactly easy; not a lot of places did weekend girls, for example. Just ruffling through memory of various conversations, one of the two houses down at Pahrump did weekend girls – four-day weekend, but that was do-able if she had to. But one of the houses there had a reputation of being cheap with the girls, and she couldn’t remember if it was the same one.

Damn, she just didn’t know. She didn’t know all the houses in the state, anyway. God, it would have been nice to take this one to George; with his encyclopedic knowledge, he could tell her what she needed to know in an instant. But hell, he was another one of those guys whose last name she’d never known. She knew he was from Texas, somewhere around the Houston area, but how damn many Georges were there in Houston, for God’s sake?

The next best bet was Shirley. It seemed like there was a good chance that she could be tracked down without too much difficulty. If she hadn’t found some place to land, she’d most likely be out at her kid’s ranch. Or, at least Duane and Ellen at the ranch would know where to find her.

It turned into a no brainer just like that. There was no chance of calling the ranch, since they still didn’t have a phone the last time she and Shirley had flown in there a year ago last Thanksgiving, the second year in a row she celebrated the holiday with the family. But, she could fly up there easily, and if no one could get her in touch with Shirley, she’d still be in Nevada and could just start dropping in at some other houses and asking questions. After all, it wasn’t like she was a new turnout who hadn’t been around the block.

"Hey, Mike," she’d said to a co-worker. "I’m out of here for a few days. If pimple-dick from N&J calls back, tell him I’m sorry, I’ll apologize to him next week after I get back from a stress-relief expedition."

"Good," Mike said. Then, he took some courage in hand, since Jennlynn had been very snappy for weeks, and he’d learned it was better to just keep his mouth shut. "You really need a break. Kick back, relax, enjoy yourself."

"Oh," Jennlynn grinned, the first time in weeks, "I sure plan to do that!"

She’d raced back to her apartment quickly, packed a couple of suitcases with a variety of stuff since there was no telling what she was going to be doing in the next few days. "Work clothes" still meant to her more or less what she’d worn at Bettye’s – her everyday stuff was "office clothes." She took a variety of both, changed into jeans and shirt appropriate for the ranch, grabbed a warm jacket since she knew it’d be cold in the high desert in Nevada, and headed for Magic Carpet.

It was still hard to figure out what had happened, and realistically, she realized that whichever way the meeting in Stan’s office had gone, she’d be doing the same thing right now – it was just that she still had a job, after all. The strange thing, the really strange thing, was that all three of them, especially Maureen, had essentially told her to come out of the closet for the sake of her security clearance. That was all right as far as it went, but how was it going to go over with her colleagues at work?

At least if she was in a better mood when she went back, and she didn’t plan on going back until she was in a better mood, she could explain why. It wasn’t going to be a secret around Lambdatron anymore, that was for sure, and she was sure there would be times when it would be awkward as hell. But the decision Stan had given her this morning seemed to liberate her. It was a strange liberation, in a way, but somehow it seemed simpler in the long run.

The desert floated slowly past Magic Carpet, but the little Cessna seemed to be flying her toward a new world.

* * *

It was the first time she’d flown into the Bar H Bar from the south, rather than the west, but there wasn’t a lot out there. She had a good idea of what to look for, so she recognized the dry lake where they’d rescued Will over two years before right off. She flew over the ridge, and there was the ranch, right in front of her.

She dropped down, circled the house once, and swung around to land on the familiar path across the field. As she taxied up to the house, Ellen came out, wearing jeans and a sheepskin jacket, like she always did. "Miz Swift!" she called, as soon as Jennlynn had the engine shut down and the door open, "What brings you out this way?"

"Looking for Shirley," Jennlynn said. "I heard this morning that she’s not at Bettye’s anymore."

"No, she ain’t," Ellen said. "She’s down at the Redlite, with Sara."

"Sara?" Jennlynn frowned. "Your Sara? And at the Redlite? That’s supposed to be the worst dump in the state."

"Oh, my," Ellen shook her head. "A lot has happened the last few months. We can stand out here in the cold, or you can come in and have a cup of coffee while I tell you."

"Talked me into it," Jennlynn grinned. She’d always liked this hard, competent ranch woman who was used to taking things as they came and making the best of them. It was a hell of a life, one Jennlynn could not have considered for herself, but she’d seen it produce three generations of awesomely friendly, competent and down-home people. They didn’t have a lot of money and were pretty close to the edge, but by God they were independent and proud of it! As anxious as Jennlynn was to find Shirley, it would be a joy just to spend a few minutes soaking in Ellen’s strength and self-confidence.

"So, what’s happening around here?" Jennlynn said once she and Ellen were in the kitchen of the house – well, cabin might be a better word, but it was the Hoffman home.

"Oh, about the same," Ellen smiled. "Will graduated last spring, he’s going into the Air Force for a while here in a bit, can’t say as I blame him, neither. Thought it was going to be a little lonely out here, but Mike, you know, Chuck and Dorothy’s oldest, asked if he could come work with us for a bit. That’s going to make life a little different. So, what’s happening with you? You working at that place you thought you was going to be working at?"

"Yes, Lambdatron, down in Phoenix," Jennlynn confirmed. "Doing pretty well, but the tension level is higher than I expected, and I was starting to get a little strung out. So what’s the deal with Shirley and Sara and the Redlite?"

"That’s a long story," Ellen smiled. "Momma Hoffman and this guy from Texas who put up the money tried to buy Bettye’s from the estate after Bettye died last spring, but they didn’t get it. There was some damn lawyer tomfoolery going on, I don’t understand it. Turned out they were only trying for it for a fallback position though. The guy from Texas was also trying to buy the Redlite, down in Antelope Valley. He won that bid and would only go so high for Bettye’s, too."

"This guy from Texas," Jennlynn asked, "His name wouldn’t happen to be George, would it?"

"Yeah, that’s it," Ellen grinned. "George Bush, like the old president."

"Oh, ho!" Jennlynn grinned. "That explains a lot!" She remembered sitting around the dining room table with Shirley and George and some of the other girls a couple years before. George had said that the Redlite’s being the closest legal house to Las Vegas gave it a lot of potential if someone were to fire the whole damn staff, jack up the front door, build a new building around it, then change the door.

"They’re supposed to be building a whole new house down there," Ellen reported. "Momma Hoffman says it’s gonna be the damndest house Nevada has ever seen."

Son of a gun, he did it! This put a whole different perspective on things! "So how does Sara fit in? I thought she wasn’t going to go into the business."

"She wasn’t," Ellen smiled. "But then she caught her fiancé running around on her, told him to go to hell, and figured that if he was going to run around she might as well too. This was back while Momma Hoffman was still running Bettye’s, so Sara drove over there and asked Momma to turn her out. After Momma left Bettye’s, Sara went up to the Bunnyranch up by Reno for a couple shifts, but as soon as this George and Momma took over the Redlite, she moved down there."

"Keeping up the family tradition, right?" Jennlynn grinned, shaking her head.

"Pretty much," Ellen laughed. "I think she’ll take after me, she won’t make a life out of it, but I learned long ago it’s not a bad way to sow your wild oats. She was getting tired of being in school and has a whole bunch of student loans to pay off. I figured Momma Hoffman would get her started off right, and I guess she has."

Knowing full darn well what her own parents must think of her, Jennlynn couldn’t help but get a smile at the contrast with this family. Her parents would be flabbergasted beyond words – hell, beyond consciousness! And to the Hoffmans, it was so casual as to be blasé. Goooood grief . . .

Jennlynn was still shaking her head when the door opened and Will walked in. "Hi, Miz Swift," the big young man smiled. "I thought that was your plane sittin’ out there. Always good to see you, ma’am."

"Always good to see you, Will," Jennlynn smiled. He’d filled out a little since she’d seen him last, over a year ago, now. He was no longer a gawky kid; he was a prime young man who looked like he’d just stepped out of a Marlboro commercial. Jennlynn couldn’t help but glance down and notice that he was wearing cowboy boots now, not hiking boots, even though any self-respecting rattlesnake would be curled up torpid in some hole this time of year. The kid had gotten the message, she thought. "You’re looking better than ever."

"Thank you, Miz Swift," he drawled. "So what brings you up here?"

"I came up here trying to track down your grandmother," Jennlynn said. "Your mother says she’s down in Antelope Valley with Sara."

"Yeah," Will sighed. "Sure must be fun, down there in the big city like that."

"Will," Jennlynn smiled. "I’ve never been in Antelope Valley, but I’ve flown over it plenty of times. There’s a couple dozen trailers, a motel, a small general store, and the Redlite. That’s hardly the big city."

"Miz Swift," he laughed. "When you flew your airplane in here and got out, did you happen to take a look around?"

"Point taken," Jennlynn said dryly.

"It’d be nice to go down and see them," he said slowly and a little nervously. "I haven’t seen Gramma since last summer, and Sara hasn’t been home a lot. Are you heading down there from here?"

"Probably," she replied. "I want to sit here and talk with your mother for a few minutes, but if I’m going to get down there today, I really need to get moving so I can get there before dark."

"Any chance I could ride down there with you?" he asked. "I’d kind of like to see Gramma before I head off to the Air Force, and Sara is supposed to be commin’ home in a couple days, I could maybe ride back with her."

"Sure, fine with me, Will," Jennlynn smiled. "So long as it’s all right with your mom and dad."

"Aw, things are slow around here right now anyway," Ellen smiled. "And it’s not like we’re not going to have to do without him in a couple weeks anyway."

"Thanks, Mom," he smiled. "Miz Swift, I need a couple minutes to change into goin’-to-town clothes, if you don’t mind waitin’."

"Take your time," she replied.

After Will got up and headed to his room in the back of the cabin, Ellen leaned over and whispered. "You get about one guess what he really wants to do, and this is about his only chance before he goes off to the Air Force."

"I figured," Jennlynn laughed. "That’s family tradition too, isn’t it?"

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