These days, not even sex sells

Billed as the West's oldest continuously operating bordello, Donna's Ranch greets drivers with a sign that depicts a cowboy-hatted, buxom brunet preening atop a truck bed. The red-roofed, single-story brothel is plagued with leaks; a recent earthquake cracked its beige exterior. The women's rooms are small. Most have a double bed, a television and DVD player, and tables with assorted lotions, sex toys and toiletries. There's also a handmade sign that reminds customers: Tips are appreciated.

From 2006 to 2007, the brothel's revenue climbed 7.6%, to about $1 million. This year, Arnold expects to make about $200,000 less. Closing that gap is tricky: Brothel advertising is legal, but billboards and bus ads risk upsetting neighbors. So the bordello sponsors a soccer team in Boise and a rodeo in Wells. It also bought lights for the high school football field and gave local motels pens, which boast that Donna's is "Your Biggest Bang for the Buck."

Arnold's staff clips coupons to slash the $3,300 monthly grocery bill. He brainstorms other cost-cutting measures. He owns 33 acres in Wells -- enough room, by his calculation, for five to 10 cows that could feed his workers.

"That's what we've come to," he says, chuckling at the idea. "Donna's Ranch could be a real ranch."

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In the kitchen, Amy alternately smooths her black, rhinestone-trimmed mini-dress and reddened hair that falls to her waist. She appears about a decade younger than she is, with a trim figure, high cheekbones and a tendency to giggle.

She waits for the CB radio to crackle. During even-numbered hours, the women take turns sweet-talking truckers. (They cede the odd-numbered hours to Bella's, the other brothel in this city of 1,300 people.) The tactic, which lures more than a third of Donna's customers, is more vital now that business is slumping.

Amy is perched on a chair, legs crossed, a wedge heel dangling off French-manicured toes. At last, a trucker grunts through the airwaves: "Where you girls at?" Amy leans toward a microphone and urges him to pull off at Exit 352.

"Are you the Asian girl?" he asks.

"Bingo!" she says.

Amy has worked in brothels, on and off, for eight years. She needed cash to get her own place, but also blames "a broken heart." Her grown son is the only person who's figured out her line of work, something she admits with downcast eyes.