When I got to my room, went in, stripped and showered, I kept thinking about us having been intimate and I chastised myself for it. I figured I had better get a grip. I did not want to ruin a good thing. With both of us traveling so much it would be great if we could co-ordinate our schedules and go to the same places.

It seemed as soon as I fell asleep it was time to get up. We met as planned in the lobby. We walked across the street to the Mammoth Snowmobile Adventures where each of us rented a snowmobile and followed a guide for three hours.

Skip brought his camera equipment and got some really good shots of Terry and Bette when we stopped occasionally to admire the serene beauty of the forest that was so untouched except by the drifts of powder-sugar snow and an occasional bunny trail of tiny footprints.

Terry passed around a silver flask of brandy that felt warm going down, contrasting with the chillness of the crisp, cold morning that was drenched with sunlight. We flopped down in the snow and made snow angels and had a few snowball fights. It all looked like a very congenial foursome, having a great time with a lot of laughs. But the pairings were a little more complex than that. Terry and Skip spent the morning flirting with each other and Bette and I simply enjoyed being together. There was a fast-paced connection growing between us that I tried very hard to categorize as two friends in the process of bonding.

After the snowmobile ride, we went back to the inn for a quick lunch, grabbed our ski equipment and hit the slopes until dusk.

When we got back we joined an over-flowing crowd in the lobby with cocktails. Everyone was trying to hug the fireplace. Bette and I talked about having dinner but when we looked around for our male companions they were gone. Bette winked at me, saying, “We’re alone at last,” as we looked around at the shoulder to shoulder crowd.

“My place or yours?” I asked, half kidding.

“We could order something in,” she said with a nod.

“Let’s do it.”

We went to my room, ordered a dinner and a few bottles of wine and settled down at a round table with two comfortable chairs to wait for room service.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” asked Bette.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“Yes I do, ever since I was about four years old. Terry hates it so I don’t do it around him. What about you?”

I nodded, “It looks like we have something else in common.”

“Have you got any?”

I nodded, got up and pulled a package of Parliaments out of my purse with a lighter. I offered one to her and lit it. She sucked in deeply and exhaled.

I lit one too and looked around for an ashtray, finding one in a drawer. I put it on the table and sat down.

Looking at her cigarette, Bette said, “These are getting to be so unpopular, I don’t even like people to know I smoke anymore.”

“I know. I’m the same way. It’s nice to find a partner in crime.” I smiled and saw a blue cloud of smoke lingering over her head. Damn, she was so incredibly sexy looking.

“It seems we’re both into traveling,” she said.

“Yes.” Why did my heart suddenly start to pound.

“Where do you go next?”

“I’ve got Spain booked for the spring but more local trips until then.”

“Like where?”

“Mendocino, for one. Tijuana, for another. How about you?”

“I can pretty much go where I want, where ever I think I can find worthy, salable art.”

“A lot of artists and writers live up in Mendocino.”

“When are you going?”

“In a few weeks, on a Thursday through Sunday,” I said and then looked at her hopefully. “Would you like to come?”