Jennlynn looked down at the empty patch of desert below the Cessna 310. "Are you sure this is all right, Will?" she asked.

"I done told you, Miz Swift," he smiled from the right seat. "I drove a pickup down it yesterday at 80 mph and there’s hardly a bump. You got almost three quarters of a mile of hard pan like a highway. You could bring the Learjet in here light if you wanted to."

She glanced down dubiously. It didn’t look like a runway, but just another one of the dry lakes that were scattered around the north end of the Bar H Bar. Not far off, there were juniper- and pinyon-covered mountains that rose abruptly. Her eye caught a patch of orange – a wind sock, hanging limp. "Well, all right," she said, wondering once again what this was all about.

She’d been wondering since the day she returned to Phoenix after the legendary battle with Nighthawk. She’d been looking forward to spending some time with Will in the days after Christmas, but was a little surprised to get a call from him saying that he had something special planned. Flying wasn’t necessary, but if she wanted to, it might be better to bring Songbird than the Learjet. That was just as well; Nancy had two trips booked in the Lear for the period she planned to be gone, but only one in the Cessna, and the Lear could easily fill in. Mike had agreed to fly all three trips, but only at the expense of a memorable general officer-to-shavetail-second lieutenant ass chewing for the risks she’d taken by pushing the limits of the business jet in the fracas with Nighthawk. Mike was just about the only person who could talk to her like that and get away with it, and only with flying involved – but a lot of the sting went out with the pat on the back he gave her afterwards; Mike had tangled with Max Hawkins years before and was glad to see that someone had finally given him his comeuppance.

So Jennlynn had flown into McCarren early on Christmas Day, with her ranch clothes and gear for a week or more in the back of the Cessna. Shirley and Will met her at the airport, and it was good to see Will again – it had been too long. They’d had a memorable dinner at Chuck and Dorothy’s with the rest of the clan, but along in the afternoon, she and Will made their farewells and headed north in Songbird.

Will had still been keeping his secret when they overflew the ranch down low; he told her to let down and head on a north-northwesterly course. She’d flown over that country before, if not recently, and it seemed vaguely familiar, but when Will pointed out the dry lake bed to land on she had second thoughts. This wasn’t something that Will would knowingly lead her astray about, so she throttled back and swung around to set up for a landing.

"By any chance, do you have any idea of the field elevation?" she asked, glancing out the side of the plane at the impromptu runway.

"Not real sure, Miz Swift," he said. "It’s about 5800, but that could be off by 500 feet either way."

"This isn’t Magic Carpet, or even that 182 I flew out here that time, you know," she warned.

"I know, Miz Swift," he said without a hint of exasperation in his voice. "It’s gonna be all right, just trust me."

She went well downwind in order to set up a long, powered final approach, so she could set Songbird down gently. She still flew it fairly often, perhaps a third as much as the Learjet. Well short of the proposed landing area, she lowered the landing gear and flaps, floated over a few scattered patches of sagebrush, and gently set the light twin down. A little to her surprise, it was firm and smooth; it took only a light touch of the brakes to get the plane down to taxiing speed. "All right, we’re here," she said. "Now what?"

"Go a little bit farther ahead, then get set to turn left," he told her.

She glanced out the left of the plane, in the direction of the windsock. Well behind it, she could see the bright yellowish cedar of a new cabin, sitting in a grove of leafless cottonwood and aspen, with the green of pinyon and juniper surrounding the grove. Behind them foothills rose; in the farther distance, she could see a snow line low on the higher mountains of the Jennings Range beyond. She glanced around a little more; there was a narrow wash to one side, and it almost seemed familiar . . . she let out a gasp of recognition. "Will!" she cried. "That’s the canyon we camped in for a couple days that time we rode fence years ago! There wasn’t a cabin here then!"

"Nope," he said. "It only got finished this fall. I never saw it myself till a few days ago. Right here’s where you turn, Miz Swift."

It would be hard to call the path that Will had Jennlynn take the 310 down a taxiway, but it crossed over two smaller patches of hard pan and a couple of graded patches of hard desert dirt where only a narrow path existed between the sagebrush. "There’s tie downs here, over to the right where it widens out," he smiled. "Swing right, then you can see ’em out your side."

Doing as she was told, Jennlynn swung the twin to the right, and could see the bright yellow of three tie-down ropes hooked to eyebolts in a circle of concrete. "I see them," she said, letting the pilot in her take over swinging around to park over them, then idled the engines and started the shutdown procedure. In a moment, all was as quiet as it could be on a windless winter day in the Nevada desert. "Will," she said into the silence, "What’s this all about?"

"Just two words for you, Miz Swift," he grinned.

"What?"

"Welcome home."

"Home?" she frowned. "I thought we were going to the ranch."

"We are at the ranch," he smiled. "Come on, let’s git your stuff, and you can go check it out."

"Will," she said as he popped open the door on the right side and began to get out. "You’re certainly being mysterious today."

"It’s still Christmas, Miz Swift," he told her.

Still amazed, she followed him out of the cockpit, and handed her gear out to him from the back, then closed the door and climbed off of the wing. She took a deep breath – after the smog and city air of Phoenix, of Las Vegas, the clear desert air smelled unbelievably sweet and pure. "Sorry we can’t get the plane closer to the cabin," Will shrugged as he helped tie the plane down, "But it gets a mite sandy and soft not much farther up there."

"It’s only a couple hundred yards," she shrugged. "I can survive. But Will, what’s this all about?"

"It’s a long story, Miz Swift, and it ain’t simple. What say we haul this stuff up to the cabin, start a fire in the fireplace, and I’ll tell you ’bout it."

The cabin was not large, a single room, only about twenty by thirty feet, but with a large covered porch on the front. It smelled of new wood, new cedar. A small pinyon pine near the front window had been decorated with glass balls and strung popcorn, signifying that it was Christmas. A little to Jennlynn’s surprise, it was fairly warm inside; there was a kerosene stove that had been left running. A fire had already been laid in the fireplace, and in only a couple minutes, it had begun to take hold.

"Very nice," Jennlynn said, looking around. It was neat inside, if a bit on the Spartan side, reflecting a place that hadn’t been lived in before.

"Miz Swift," Will said, standing up from lighting the fire. "I know you don’t drink much, but might you be interested in a small glass of Chablis to help christen this place?"

"If we’re not going to be flying anymore, I certainly would," she grinned.

"Fine, have a seat on the sofa there, and I’ll be along in a minute."

It was closer to two minutes before Will sat down beside her on the sofa; they clinked their glasses together, took a sip, then set them down and fell into each others arms, the wine still fresh on their lips.

Though her sex life recently was as active as it had been for a decade, it had been a long time since Jennlynn had had a kiss at all, and seventeen months since she’d had one as wonderful and meaningful as that one – since she’d kissed him goodbye on his way to Okinawa. Men, yes, she’d had plenty of men, but this was special. He was, more than anyone else who lived, her man.

There was no need for talking for a long time as the aromatic cedar and sagebrush fire blazed in the fireplace in front of them – but there was plenty of kissing and touching and just renewing the wonder of being together as the untouched wine grew warm in the glasses.

Finally, a long time later, they lay cuddled together on the sofa, just filled with the wonder of being with each other after a separation of so long. "Will," she said softly, "Just being with you is the best Christmas present I could imagine. But there’s more to this cabin than just our being together, and you’re holding back something. What is it?"

"It’s not easy to explain," he whispered in her ear. "Miz Swift, just bein’ with you is the best Christmas present I could imagine, too. We both know who we are, and that we’re pretty much loners that like to be together a little, and not a lot."

"Yes," she nodded. "Will, you know I don’t use the word love lightly, but if there’s any man on the face of the earth who I love, it’s you. I love being with you. But I think we’ve known from the beginning we’re enough different that we’d wear thin on each other pretty quickly."

"I’ve thought about it a lot," he told her softly. "And yes, you’re right. But that doesn’t keep me from lovin’ you more than any woman on earth. Miz Swift, we’ve known each other for over a decade, and we’ve loved each other for a lot of that time. I’ve come to thinkin’ that I’d rather have you intensely for a little while now and then, rather than have you all the time and have us grindin’ on each other. I think and I hope you feel the same way."

"Fairly said, Will," she nodded. "I couldn’t have said it better. But where does this cabin fit in?"

"That’s the long story," he said. "Part of it is fairly logical, and part of it ain’t. Miz Swift, how much do you know about how I live in the Air Force?"

"Not much," she shrugged.

"I live a pretty quiet life," he told her. "I don’t throw my money around. Up until I made Tech Sergeant, I lived in a barracks, two to a room with another airman, but now I have a room to myself in a BEQ. The Air Force also pays for my meals. A lot of single guys in the Air Force have fancy cars, or piss away their money on beer. I don’t spend very much at all, and when I could, I’ve worked a second job off hours and saved my money."

"What do you do off hours?" she asked. "I mean, besides work?"

"I stay busy," he sighed. "The big thing is that I’ve been taking classes through the Community College of the Air Force. Probably by the time I get done with this tour in Okinawa, I’ll be a college graduate."

"I never knew that," she shook her head.

"Not even the folks know," he said. "Don’t you tell ’em, neither. I don’t want ’em thinkin’ I’ve gotten too big for my britches. I’m doin’ it for the learning, not for the degree. I’ve taken just about every ag course they got, so if everything goes right, I’ll have a degree in English, and minors in business administration and ag."

"English?" she frowned, then grinned. "Will, I hate to say it but you don’t sound like someone who’s about to get a degree in that subject."

"I know I don’t sound like it," he smiled, and continued without a hint of drawl or slang. "It pleases me to talk like a Nevada cowboy who never made it out of eighth grade. And frankly, my dear, I believe it pleases you. It gives me a little color, so to speak. I’m an excellent writer, and with what I do in the Air Force, I have to be one. While I do not particularly like what I do, I’ve done it well enough to be promoted to Technical Sergeant well ahead of when I would have expected, and should I re-enlist and have a college degree at the time, Master Sergeant is probably not that far in the future. Now, kin I go back to talkin’ like an ignorant Nevada cowboy?"

"Please do," she giggled. "You’re right. Somehow it doesn’t sound like you otherwise. So, what are you planning to do with this degree?"

"Like I said, I’m doin’ it for the useful knowledge, not the piece of paper," he smiled. "Miz Swift, my plan ain’t changed. I’m comin’ back here when I get done with the Air Force. I’m a Nevada cowboy at heart, but there’s things I can get through book learnin’ that’ll be useful, so I might as well make good use of my time and save my money."

"What are you doing with the money?" she asked, curious, and surprised at the long-term view he was taking. "Saving it?"

"Yes and no," he told her. "Bank interest rates are lousy, you know that, it ain’t hardly worth puttin’ money in a bank. Miz Swift, I’m buyin’ the ranch. A big piece of my pay each year goes toward shares. If I retire at twenty years, I won’t own the whole thing yet, but by the time all the wills and stuff settle out, I’ll own most of it. I don’t know if anyone’s told you, but Gramma, Dad, and Aunt Dorothy each owned a third of the ranch when I went into the Air Force. I’m basically buyin’ up Aunt Dorothy’s claim on it, and the part of Gramma’s claim that would go to Aunt Dorothy. Gramma was the one that done cooked that up, and the more time goes on, the more I get impressed with what she done. About a year after I went into the Air Force, she worked out a real good price. I didn’t realize it then, but understand now that she knew that the land value even on a mostly useless piece of desert like this would go up faster than inflation, and doin’ it this way I ain’t payin’ interest on it."

"Smart," she conceded. "Your Gramma has always struck me as being one of the neater people on the earth, and one of the wiser ones."

"She is," Will granted. "The thing is, she knowed that of the five grandkids, I’d be the only one that really wanted to stay on the ranch. Chuck and Dorothy’s kids always liked to come up here and fool around, lend a hand now and then, and when Mike got into them drug problems, him comin’ up here to straighten out done him a world of good. But they’re all city kids at heart; they don’t really have their hearts in the desert like I do. And Sara don’t neither. Since she and Kyle got married, well, there ain’t no way he’d ever come out here for more than a visit. So they cooked up a deal that would make it easy for me to buy up the shares if I really wanted to."

"Ingenious," she said. "I never realized it was quite that complicated."

"It’s damn near impossible to get into the business anymore, unless you was born to it or have a whole shitload of money to piss away, and you’d still better be born to it or you’re gonna lose that shitload of money from not knowin’ what to do with it," he said. "Then you gotta either be damn smart or damn stupid anyhows."

"Will, you’re not stupid. It sounds like a good deal to me."

"It’s a hell of a deal," he nodded. "But it ain’t perfect. Miz Swift, you ought to be able to figure that gettin’ the ranch ain’t a done and perfect deal. Things could go wrong. The ranch has always been marginal as hell, and Great-grandpa and Gramma, and Grandpa and Momma and Dad have always been operatin’ close to the wire. I ain’t sayin’ it’s on the verge of goin’ down, but it could happen, so I got to thinking I needed to have an ace in the hole. Now, this land is a little interestin’. We’re only about five miles from the highway here, but they’s a couple ridges in the way, so you don’t hear it even at night. You remember when we was ridin’ back to Flagstaff from Diamond Creek when we got off the Colorado River?"

"I have to admit, I mostly remember being cuddled up next to you like this and wishing it didn’t have to end."

"The truth be told, I pretty much remember the same thing," he said. "But afterwards, when I was back in the Air Force, I got to thinkin’ about all the ‘Lots For Sale’ signs I saw out there. People buying up little lots for fairly big money, no shade, no water, no nuthin’ but a place out in the desert. You remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," she grinned. "I even remember thinking someone was going to make some money out of it, on people coming out of Phoenix and Vegas, just looking for a little country peace and quiet."

"I thought about it real hard," he smiled. "Then I worked out a deal with everyone to simplify my buying the ranch out, to protect my investment in case things went down the tube. It was no big deal, but now, rather than buying shares, I’m buying the land itself, section by section. I now own the northern quarter of the ranch, fee simple. That is to say, the part that’s closest to the highway. The road in here is for crap, and part of it doesn’t go over my land, but both of them can be fixed with a few days’ work with a bulldozer, at least considering all the city folk that are buying sport utilities."

"You’re going to subdivide this?" she said, half in alarm.

"Not if I can help it," he told her. "It’s strictly an ace in the hole, but it protects my investment. Things may not go according to plan, anyway. Good chance of it, in fact."

"Will, is something the matter?"

"Yes and no," he said. "You know I ain’t no great fan of being in the Air Force; it just does for me what I need for it to do, and the retirement pay I get will be welcome when I get back out here. But Miz Swift, when this enlistment is up I’ll have been in the Air Force nine years. Of that nine years, I’ll have spent four years in the Persian Gulf, which is a place that makes this place seem real sweet – plus, it’s filled with oil rigs. I spent two years on Okinawa, which when God decides to give the world an enema, it’s where he’s going to stick the tube. Then I spent two years in Dover, which I suppose is nice enough if you grew up there, but it’s an armpit of a place to a Nevada boy like me. I’ll get reassigned before I re-enlist, and if the Air Force can’t for once manage to assign me to a decent base in the western part of the states, I may just say the hell with them and get out. It doesn’t have to be Nellis or like that, but I ain’t never had a good tour yet."

"And if you get out, there goes your retirement pay," she nodded.

"Right," he said. "I mean, I can get a job in Las Vegas or somewhere to finish paying off the ranch; that’s not a big deal, but it’d be hard to live out here without the extra income from my retirement pay. Push comes to shove, this could make the difference. I don’t want to do it, but I know I could do it if I had to."

"OK, I think I’m with you so far," she said. "Now, where does this cabin fit in?"

"That’s the part that ain’t very logical, Miz Swift," he smiled. "But I started thinkin’ about it clear back when we went down the Grand Canyon. I know we both enjoyed the hell out of that trip, but it wasn’t all it could have been, because it was more than just the two of us, when we really wanted to be alone, right?"

"Yes," she said, feeling the inkling of something much deeper going on. "I wanted to get away with you very badly, even if it was just another horse packing trip, riding fence. Then I won that trip in that drawing, and the pieces fit together. We had a memorable time, but yes, given the choice, I’d have just as soon been alone with you for that time, like we were a year ago last summer."

He smiled at her, and squeezed down a little more tightly. "When we went on that trip up in the hills is when it really struck me," he said. "I loved that trip and I knowed you did, too. But I was already thinkin’ forward to the next time, and I got to thinkin’ about what happens if I could only get free in the winter. I could handle a horse packin’ trip like that, maybe you could, too, but it wouldn’t be as nice as it was up there in the hills in the summer."

"I wrestled around with that question a little bit, too," she admitted. "But I knew that you wouldn’t accept a gift that big from me."

"Miz Swift, the money is one of those things that’s always going to stand between us," he told her. "We’ve pretty well been able to keep it in the background but it’s always there. I don’t make nothin’ like what you make, probably not a tenth, but it’s enough for what I want to do. I know goddamn well that what I’m scrimpin’ and savin’ for, you could do out of your petty cash. But I cain’t ask you for it because I wouldn’t have earned it if I did."

"And that’s important to you," she said with understanding. "You have your pride. Believe it or not, Will, I understand you perfectly. I may have more money, but I take pride in the fact that I earned it all, either through work or investments, and I earned it honestly. I’ll admit to being a touch shady on the Learjet deal, but considering if I hadn’t done it, the plane would have been back to hauling cocaine into the country within days; I consider it a public service."

"Ain’t nothin’ dishonest about being able to recognize a deal, and being ready to go when it happens," he grinned. "Which is kinda sorta how I come around to this cabin. I mean, I already owned the land. Don’t get me wrong, my folk’s house is home, but it’s their home, not mine. I wanted a little place that I could carry in my memory as mine, something to think about when I’m in some goddamn hole like Okinawa, and one day I realized that adding the cabin to the land and making the improvements ain’t gonna do nothin’ but make it more valuable. I didn’t build it over in the mouth of the canyon because I thought someday I might want to build a big house there, and in the meantime I didn’t want to mess up the wild of the place. But I realized buildin’ this cabin would give us a place where we could go to be by ourselves almost any time of the year, although it’s low enough that it can get a mite uncomfortable in high summer, but not as bad as down at the ranch buildings. But hell, that’s when we’d want to take a horse pack trip in the high country anyway."

"So, now you have a home of your own," she smiled. "Will, I think that’s not only wonderful, it shows good thinking on your part."

"So far as it goes," he said nervously. "There’s one more thing, Miz Swift, I don’t know how to say it and I’m afraid if I don’t say it right you’re going to get real pissed off with me."

"Will," she shook her head, "I can’t think of anything you could say that could do that."

"This might be it," he said. "Look, Miz Swift, like we was talking a few minutes ago, I love you more than I thought a man could love a woman, but I know damn well there ain’t no point in talkin’ about getting married, or anything like that any time soon and maybe never. We both know it’d never work in the long run since there’s too much against it. We don’t need to go over it all again. I love you despite those differences, and I hope you feel the same way about me."

"I do, Will," she said. "You’re the only man I can love for who you are, not because of what you are. I don’t know if that makes sense, but it’s how I feel."

"I understand," he said. "And that’s how I feel. Miz Swift, here’s the thing, and I hope you’ll understand. I don’t want this to be just my home. As much as it can be under the circumstances, I’d like it to be our home."

"Oh, Will," she said, tears running from her eyes now. "That is the sweetest thing you could have said to me."

"You’re not mad?" he said.

"How could I be?" she said. "I know we can’t be together very often, at least not for years if maybe ever. But when we can be, it’ll be wonderful to have this special place."

"Miz Swift," he said. "If you want, I can have papers drawn up to give us joint ownership, say, of the eighth section this cabin sits on."

"Will, you don’t have to do that," she told him. "Your word is good enough. If we make it official, I’d have to pay you my share, and you wouldn’t like that."

"No, I wouldn’t. Miz Swift, I’m giving you this because I can give it to you. I said a while back that they’s always going to be a wall of money between us. I don’t want the money to matter. I just want this to be your home as much as it is mine."

"Oh, Will," she said, seriously crying now. "That is undoubtedly the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. All right, we’ll do it your way."

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