One thing that makes all hotels in Santa Fe equal is the proliferation of glossy magazines in each room, stacks of thick booklets to help guide tourists through the maze of galleries and restaurants on which the city's lifeblood and lifestyle depend.

On the same Friday afternoon, after their separate arrivals that morning, Maureen at La Fonda and Jaime at The Days Inn read the identical full-page ad from Evening Moon Gallery on Canyon Road -- with a painting of distant Deer Dance figures against a brilliant sunrise -- and decided to attend an opening that evening for an artist from one of the pueblos nearby.

They found themselves in front of the same plate of orange cheese and green grapes and red wine, surrounded by a noisy, chatty crowd of locals who hardly noticed nor cared that they had just traveled hundreds of miles to be among them.

"How do you like Santa Fe?" Maureen ventured to ask Jaime, who was nibbling on the grapes but avoiding the cheese.

"It's completely amazing," Jaime said. "It's my first time and I can't believe I'm finally here. I've dreamed of this for so long."

Maureen laughed. "Me, too! It's just so beautiful. And unique." She lowered her voice. "I feel a little out of place, though. There's definitely a scene here, if you know what I mean."

For the next half hour, the two shared their life stories -- work, family, disappointments in love, dreams and aspirations -- the kind of opening up women often do when they are either looking for a new friend or think they might never meet the other person again.

Maureen nudged Jaime with her elbow. "Look," she said, pointing to a man with his hands in his pockets staring at a bronze sculpture in the corner. "He hasn't budged in 10 minutes."

Jaime could only see his profile. He wore what looked like a tanned buckskin jacket with long fringe hanging over the chest and sleeves. His hair was blond and wavy and a leather hat hung from his neck down his back.

A little over the top, Jaime thought.

Maureen gulped down her wine and poured herself another glass. "God, he's so sexy. I've never seen anything like it."

And before Jaime could blink, Maureen was over in that corner striking up a conversation with the mountain man.

Jaime wandered around the room, gazing at the artist's work, which consisted primarily of raging red skies, Native Americans in full costume and a few wolves howling at the stars. The crowd was starting to thin out when Maureen came racing over, her cheeks flushed and the mountain man on her arm.

"We're heading over to the Casa Sena for drinks," Maureen said. "How about lunch tomorrow at the Coyote Cafe? I've heard it's fabulous. Here's my card. Call me on my cell in the morning, okay?"

The mountain man smiled at Jaime over his fringed shoulder on the way out.

The next morning, Jaime hiked up around the Santa Fe Ski Basin and was starting to feel light-headed from the altitude when she called Maureen and left a message on her cell, saying she could be at the Coyote Cafe by one, if that worked for her.

"I have so much to tell you!" Maureen said when she returned the call. "See you at two!"

Jaime was starving by the time she arrived at the cafe's cantina and immediately ordered the Chimayo Red Chili Caesar Salad and iced tea. She ate two pieces of warm focaccia with sun-dried tomatoes and rosemary dipped in olive oil while waiting for Maureen to show up.

"I'm in love!" Maureen called out as she crossed the dining room in a hurry and dropped into her chair. "So sorry I'm late, but Jim kept me up till the break of dawn and then, well, we had a late breakfast, if you know what I mean."

Jaime was surprised to feel a twinge of envy -- while she had been watching re-runs of Friends and The Simpsons in her dingy hotel room, Maureen had been out all night with this guy who, even if he was overdoing it with the western garb, was better looking than any male she had ever seen walk the streets of the nation's capital.

"He's got a friend, you know," Maureen said with a wink. "And he'd like us all to go out two-stepping tonight at some honky tonk on the edge of town. Sounds like it's near where you're staying."

"I'm going riding for the rest of the afternoon" -- Jamie felt a brief shiver at the thought of getting on the back of a horse for the first time -- "but I could meet you later on. The question is, what the heck is two-stepping?"

Maureen laughed. "I have no idea, but if it's with that hunk, it's got to be good."

Part III coming up... (Part I was posted yesterday.)

*Photo is of the author's distant ancestor, the mountain man Jim Bridger.