"Are children allowed?"

"No. If we hear of a woman in need who has children, we help her find assistance elsewhere. All the ranches are for adult women only."

I nodded, sipping my water and listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner as it cycled on. "Are there any other Amazons here?" I asked softly, somehow loathe to disturb the tranquility of the silent house.

"Besides us, you mean?" she asked, grinning.

Looking down, I blushed a little. In all truth, I'd forgotten I was, in fact, an Amazon. It wasn't really something which came up in daily conversation outside of prison, and as that part of my life started to slip away into the past, some of my memories apparently had as well. "Yeah, besides us."

"Well... there's Rio, who you've already met..."

I turned to her, eyes wide. "Rio? Rio's an Amazon?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing... ?"

"Oh! No! No, not at all. Really. I was just... surprised."

Her expression turned serious. "Is there a problem, Angel?"

"No problem. Really." I tried a broad smile on for size, then winced at how poorly it fit.

Montana's eyes narrowed. "Angel..."

"Really. It's just .a difference of opinion, that's all. Nothing to worry about."

"A difference of opinion about what." It wasn't a question, and I knew it.

I sighed, slumping into the seat. "I wish I knew."

"Did she say something? Do something?"

"Honestly, Montana, it's nothing to worry about. I'm sorry I said what I did. I'm sure Rio's an excellent Amazon. We just... we just didn't hit it off, I suppose. But that's alright. Not everyone has to like one another. I'm ok with that. Honestly." I held my free hand up to show my sincerity.

"I'll have a talk with her."

"No! Please! Please, don't do that. She didn't do anything wrong, and I'm sure everything will work itself out, eventually."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

After a long, assessing moment, she finally nodded, albeit reluctantly, I thought. "Alright. But if I see anything out of order, I will speak to her."

"Okay. Thank you."

As we lapsed into silence once again, I found myself looking around the house's interior, admiring the southwestern color scheme and the simple wall hangings which added color to the bone-white walls. "You must have to sell a lot of oranges to pay the mortgage on this place," I said in an attempt to steer the conversation into other, safer waters.

Her gentle laugh told me I'd succeeded. "I don't think the entire state of Arizona could produce that much citrus, Angel. No, this house was willed to me by the mother of a young woman I helped while in the Bog."

"Really?"

"Mm hm. The girl was very sweet, and kind. And quite beautiful as well." A melancholy smile spread itself over Montana's features. "She was such an innocent when she first arrived, like so many of them are."

"Like I was."

"Yes. You remind me of her, somewhat. She was arrested for possession. A short sentence, but as you know, in the Bog, even a month can seem like an eternity, especially if spent in the ill graces of some of the women there."

I nodded, not quite managing to suppress the shudder that came with my own memories of my first weeks in prison.

"When we finally managed to get in and pick up the pieces, I wasn't really sure how much was left. But she surprised me." Her smile was now proud. "She surprised all of us. The adversity made her stronger, and by the time she left us, it was as if a new woman had stepped out of the shell of the old."

"Where is she now?" I asked, sensing a sad ending, but needing to know.

"Dead. She returned here to be with her mother, and they were both killed in a car accident some years ago."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," I said, laying a hand atop hers.

"So was I." The sad smile returned.

"You loved her."

After a long moment, she nodded. "Yes I did. Very much."

"I'm sorry," I said again, at a loss. I wanted to hug her, but wasn't sure if she'd accept such a gesture from me. Instead, I settled for squeezing her hand harder, pleased when she looked at me, thanks in her eyes.

"I'm sorry for your loss as well, Angel," she said, finally. "I was quite pleased when I heard that you and Ice had made it into Canada. I had hoped that you had finally found your dreams."

It was my turn to smile sadly. "We did. For awhile. Before Cavallo came in and started the whole avalanche." I sighed as the pain, a constant companion, settled itself on my shoulders once again, all the more heavy for the temporary respite. "I know it's been three months, but it still feels so unreal, you know? Like a dream, almost. Or a nightmare." I shook my head. "Most mornings, I still find myself waking up expecting to still be in the cabin, Ice sleeping next to me. And it's like I lose her all over again every time I do wake up. It makes me not want to go to sleep."

"I can understand that."

"Yeah. I guess you can." I absently wiped the tear rolling down my cheek.

"What happened to the woman who turned her in?"

"Ruby?" I laughed mirthlessly. "God, what a screw up. I find myself wanting to hate her. But I can't. No matter how much I try, I just can't. She acted out of love for me." I felt my fist curl and slam down on the forgiving cushion. "If I had only told her the truth in the beginning, none of this would ever have happened."

"You don't know that, Angel. For all you know, telling the truth would only have meant a sooner ending. Sometimes people see with their eyes and not with their hearts. Your friend might have meant well, but she didn't take the time to look beyond what she thought was the surface. You can't take all the blame for this upon yourself. It does no good."

"Maybe not," I replied, looking down at my lap.

"So what happened to her?"

"I'm not sure. I guess she's still in Canada. I doubt there'd be any reason for her to leave. Especially now." I closed my eyes against the memory of that horrible night, but it came anyway, mocking me with its stealth.

Corinne had gotten to me just as the last of the police cars pulled away into the night. I remembered screaming at the top of my lungs as she pulled me into a crushing embrace, holding me so tightly that I felt smothered against her body, unable to breathe.

I remembered trying desperately to pull free, but she held me with a strength I hadn't known she possessed, refusing to let me slip away. Knowing, I think, what I'd do if I did.

After a period of time-a moment, a day, a century-she loosened her hold, and I pulled away, as if scalded by her very presence. I turned, and she was there.

The one who betrayed me.

The one who tore my heart out and held it bleeding in her hands.

The one who drilled a great, gaping rent into my very soul.

And then I just... blacked out is the only way I can think to put it.

I didn't come back into myself until quite some time later.

Corinne was holding me once again. Of Ruby, there was no sign.

My right hand ached. When I looked at it, it was scraped, raw, bleeding, and swollen.

I knew I'd punched her. And part of me rejoiced.

Reading my mind as she always had, Corinne gently shook her head, then turned me to face the wall near the front windows. A wall which now bore a fist-sized hole in the plaster. A hole which was head-height on a person like Ruby. "You didn't hurt her, Angel. You wanted to, I know. But you didn't."

And that was all that was ever said on the subject.

And though I never saw Ruby again, to this day, my hand still aches when it rains, forever a reminder of the night I lost my soul and the woman, however unwittingly, who took it from me.

I wasn't sure how I wound up in Montana's strong arms, crying as if my very life depended upon this shedding of tears, but after a brief second of tense wonder, I simply surrendered to the inevitability of it and let the tears fall where they might.

Which, at the moment, happened to be all over Montana's neatly starched shirt.

She didn't seem to mind, however.

I hadn't spoken of the events of that night since that night. With Corinne and I, it was almost balletic, the way we would adroitly maneuver so as to avoid the issue. And who else, really, had there been to discuss it with? Donita likely already knew the whole story-albeit a vastly shortened version, considering her source was Ice. The only other person I'd spent recent time with was Rio, and quite frankly, I would have rather bitten through a high-tension wire than to cry on that particular shoulder.

Montana, however, was somehow safe. At least, I assumed as much, since my body was telling me something my mind didn't already know.

She reacted exactly right, simply holding me and stroking my hair until my cathartic release played itself out and left me empty, but in a good way. A way, I suppose, I had been unconsciously craving for the past three months.

Several moments passed before I finally pulled away and gave her a watery, half embarrassed smile as I wiped the remaining tears from my burning eyes. "I'm sorry for getting your shirt wet."

Her smile was kind. "Don't be. You've been needing to get that out for a long time, haven't you."

"Yeah. I suppose I have." I took in a deep, shuddering breath, then let it out, amazed with the lightness I felt deep inside, as if a festering wound had finally been lanced, the poison flowing out with my tears. "Thank you."

She shrugged. "That's what friends are for, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks. Friend."

"You're welcome. Friend." Chuckling softly, she stretched. "Better now?"

"You don't know how much."

"Good. How about if I let you free to go exploring? Poke around a little, get a feel for the place. After all, it's gonna be your home for awhile."

I nodded again, smiling this time. "I'd like that."

"Alright then. Dinner's in about four hours or so. You'll hear the bell when it's ready." Getting up off the couch, she escorted me to one of the front doors and ushered me out. "Have fun."

"Thanks. I plan to."

PART 3.

THE AFTERNOON PASSED into evening rather quickly as I explored the grounds, poking my nose in anywhere and everywhere and generally making a nuisance out of myself.

As I'd known I would all along, my meanderings eventually led me to the stables and corral beyond. I spared several moments to watch a group of women industriously muck out the stalls, change out the food and water, and do whatever else needed doing to make the stables ready for the horses' return.

Then I moved on to the corral, climbing up the split rail fence to sit atop one of the posts and watch as a number of women put some of the horses through their paces. Of particular interest to me was a young, lithe, blonde woman who was racing her beautiful chestnut mare around three barrels set up in the central ring of the corral. Horse and rider moved in perfect symmetry, flowing like water around each barrel as women on the sidelines cheered and whooped. Another woman, broad and squat, pumped a triumphant fist in the air, a stopwatch clenched tightly between her palm and fingers.

Hats sailed into the air as the young woman slipped down from her horse, her boots kicking up clouds of dust as they reconnected with the desert floor. She was immediately engulfed by a crowd of cheering onlookers as her horse was gently led away by one of the stable-hands.

Several moments later, the crowd parted and the young woman walked out from the masses, dusting off her clothing and putting her hat back on her head, setting the brim with a casual hand. Walking in my direction, she stopped just shy of the fence and tilted her head up to look at me, smiling. "Hey, there," she said in a musical voice that was vaguely familiar to me, but one which I couldn't quite place.

"Hello. That was some riding you did there."

Her fair face colored a little as she shrugged and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "It wasn't bad, I guess. I'll have to get a lot better, though, if I'm gonna have a chance in the Buckeye Rodeo."

"Well, you looked pretty damn good to me. I'm probably not the best authority on the subject, though."

She blushed again, then laughed. "Maybe not on barrel racing, but you're pretty good at other things."

I could feel my eyes narrow. "Excuse me?"

"You don't remember me, do you."