Table of Contents

Somewhere Only We Know

blurb

copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

About the Author

Trademarks Acknowledgment

MLR Press Authors

GLBT RESOURCES

Somewhere Only We Know

WILLIAM NEALE

Mlrpress

www.mlrpress.com

Grayson Wagner is a classical pianist who was unemployed, hungry, and on the brink of being
homeless until he’s hired by a big-hearted former country music star as her new piano player.
Gray loves his job but his new life is threatened when a near fatal accident delivers him into the
brawny arms of Jacob Kent, a reclusive park ranger. Their physical attraction quickly turns into
much more. But can their love survive Jacob’s secret? Or, a shocking revelation that threatens to
tear down the very house that love built?

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published by

MLR Press, LLC

3052 Gaines Waterport Rd.

Albion, NY 14411

Visit ManLoveRomance Press, LLC on the Internet:

www.mlrpress.com

Editing by Kris Jacen

ebook format ISBN#978-1-60820-610-0

Issued 2012

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others.
No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the
publisher.

Chapter One

The little red light next to the speedometer had turned on fifteen minutes earlier. Grayson didn’t
know what it meant. It said Engine. Did it mean it’s time to change the oil? Get a tune-up? What
did it mean? He knew next to nothing about cars. He mostly just knew music.

His 2003 Honda Accord’s odometer had just passed the two-hundred-thousand mile mark and in
the two years since he’d bought it from a used car lot, he had not taken it in for service. He
couldn’t afford it. Heck, with rent, food, and the price of gas, he could barely make the monthly
payments he’d just finally paid off—at a loan shark interest rate because of his nonexistent credit.

And now here he was, smack in the middle of some two-lane state highway somewhere in the
hills of eastern Tennessee.

Rain or sleet or snow or all of the above began pelting his windshield. About the same time, the
engine hum made a distinctive change in pitch from a slightly flat g-major to a decidedly sharp
e-major. Something unknown inside the hood began to click-tap-click with a rhythm that
wavered irritatingly between four-four and three-four double time.

He pressed on the accelerator but nothing accelerated. Instead, the car began to falter and slow as
he started up yet another steep incline. Lurching forward with jerking gasps now, the car finally
stuttered to a stop. Something smelled odd and vaguely scary like a cross between burnt rubber
and a lighted match before the discordant engine surrendered with a final loud bang of protest.

Shit!

He tried to restart the engine.

Nothing. Dead. He had no idea how to fix it or who to call for help, even if he could. His cell
phone was inoperable; not because of an uncharged battery but because he’d been unable to pay
the bill.

What the hell do I do now?

That morning when he’d left Milwaukee he thought he had finally caught a break and that maybe
his luck was changing. He’d landed a steady gig as the piano player for a show at some resort
hotel in a tourist town called Pigeon Forge. The only things he knew about it was that it was next
to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and across from Dolly Parton’s big amusement
park called Dollywood.

He’d never been there, had never wanted to go there, and knew next to nothing about country
music. But he needed this job. Desperately. An old friend from school who was now based in

Nashville had gotten him hired sight unseen on her recommendation because apparently the need
was pretty desperate. All she had told him was to show up in Pigeon Forge by the next day, keep
an open mind, and it might eventually lead to bigger things. Presumably in some place, any place
other than a hillbilly tourist trap named after pigeons and whatever the heck a forge is.

He tried starting the car again. The engine briefly turned and then belched a loud pop. Smoke
immediately began bellowing from under the hood.

Oh shit! Shit! I see flames creeping through the cracks! Gotta get out. Gotta get my stuff. Oh
God, please don’t let it explode!

God did his or her part for the moment. The trunk release still worked. Gray leaped out of the car
and ran to the back and began tossing his suitcase and packed cardboard boxes far onto the
shoulder off the road. He ran to the back seat door and opened it. His entire wardrobe – every
stitch of clothing he owned – hung on a pole that stretched from one door to the other.

Holy Christ! The flames are coming through the vents in the front dash!

Trying to control his fear, he grabbed fistfuls of clothes still on hangers and ran to what he
thought was a safe distance before hurling them onto the muddy side of the road. He went back
for another load and then another until he’d cleared the entire rack.

A panicked thought occurred. My safe box! All my valuables, and—oh my God—all my money.
Where the hell did I hide it? Where?!

Flames now consumed the entire front seat area and were moving into the back seat. The spare
tire. I hid it where the spare tire goes! He ran back to the still open trunk of the almost fully
engulfed Honda and lifted the carpet covering where the missing spare tire was supposed to be
stored.

There! Dear God, don’t let this mother blow up yet!

Grayson grabbed the already hot-to-the-touch metal box and ran as fast as his legs would go to
the same hopefully safe spot on the other side of the road where he had tossed every worldly
possession.

The car didn’t explode as much as it seemed to implode. With a whoosh, it collapsed into one
giant Honda bonfire, complete with its own small mushroom cloud rising into a late afternoon
January sky. He remembered that the gas tank was almost empty and he had been hoping it
would be enough to get him to his destination. Now, his pinching of the few dollars remaining to
his name had accidently stymied the big explosion he’d feared.

The sleety drizzle began again but not heavily enough to even coax a sigh of steam from the
burning heap of his car. Just enough to wet and chill him and remind him his only coat had been

in the front passenger’s seat. It was now cooked like a down-stuffed goose.

Shivering in his t-shirt and jeans, he began gathering everything he had tossed into a single pile.
Most of his clothes were drenched in muddy water but at least they could be cleaned. He found a
dry hoodie in one of the boxes, put it on, and remembered there was a Milwaukee Brewers ski
cap in his workout bag. He grabbed the hat and put it on under the hoodie as a temporary barrier
against what now was mostly coming down as heavy wet snow.

And on top of all jokes on this joke of a bad luck day, it was his birthday. He hadn’t even been
able to call his folks, nor vice versa.

He sat down on the single large suitcase that had been in the trunk and tried not to cry. How
could things get even worse than they already were? He’d been laid off from his day job on the
final day before the high school’s Thanksgiving break back in November. That had left him with
only his night job playing for tips in a piano bar.

Business was slow in the bar and he’d been unable to make enough in tips to pay his January
rent. So he had guiltily just cleaned the place, dropped his keys on the counter, and shut the door
earlier that same morning, abandoning his security deposit in lieu of the final month’s rent.

And, he was hungry. The last good meal he’d eaten had been Christmas dinner at his parents’
home in Wausau. But even that was cut short when his father started in on him again while they
were still eating.

“If you’d not wasted a hundred grand of my money on a music degree, you’d be driving a
Beemer now instead of that beat-up piece of shit sitting in my driveway. I’m ashamed for the
neighbors to even see it.”

Abandoning his half-eaten dessert, Gray had silently left the table, grabbed his coat, and left
without engaging his father in yet another argument. Not on Christmas Day. He kissed his mother
goodbye and watched her crying in his rear-view mirror as he pulled out of the driveway to
ensure no further embarrassment for his father.

Gray cried most of the way back to Milwaukee.

Watching the fire heap continue to burn, he sighed with sad resignation. I guess Dad was right.

Gray’s attention came back to the present and the direness of his situation. What little traffic was
on this rural short cut from the Cumberland Gap to the Smoky Mountains was now backed up. So
far it consisted of one semi, a big dump truck hauling coal, and a faded old pale blue Ford
Taurus. Both truck drivers had come over to ask him if he was all right and when he answered in
the affirmative they went back to their warm dry rigs without offering him further assistance.
And he politely refused the Taurus’s backseat offered by an elderly man and woman when the
man mentioned that this tragedy wouldn’t have happened if he’d been “right with the Lord.”

He finally heard a siren. No, two of them. One modern sounding, the other like some air-raid
warning from an old World War II movie. As they came into sight from the rise immediately
above them, he saw the former was a county sheriff’s department car and the later was an

antique-looking fire truck from some place called Bull’s Gap Volunteer Fire Department.

The fire engine may have been old but the crew knew what they were doing. By the time the fire
was put out, a flatbed truck had arrived to clear it off the road and haul the Accord’s charred
remains away.

The deputy, who had been directing traffic the whole time finally walked over to take Gray’s
statement.

“Uh, Mister – uh – Wilhelm G. Wagner. Did I pronounce that right?” the deputy said with a
distinct twang. He held Gray’s driver’s license in his hand.

“Yes, sir, you did,” he replied.

“That’s a German name. Sure it’s not Vilhelm Vagner?”

“I was named after my grandfather. He was German. But I go by my middle name, Grayson or
just Gray—which was my other grandfather’s name. You speak German?”

“Ich spreche Deutsch nicht sehr gut,” the deputy said with a decent accent. “Just two years in
high school.”

Gray was impressed. “Ich glaube, Sie tun sehr gut.”

“Danke. You mind telling me where you were headed?”

“Pigeon Forge, sir,” Gray said as respectfully as he could under the stressed conditions, not
wanting to get on the bad side of some southern cop.

“You a tourist?”

“No sir. I have a job there.”

“And just what might that be?”

“I’m the piano player for Denise Dailey at the Country Legends Dinner Theatre.”

“Ah, I know who she is. I saw her at a concert last summer. I’m good with faces, though, and I
don’t remember seeing yours at the piano. You new?”

“As new as it gets. I haven’t even met her. I was just told to show up today and be ready to play
the piano for her tomorrow night.”

“So you’re expected there yet tonight?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You got anybody you can call to come pick you up?”

“No, sir, I don’t. I don’t know anybody here. I drove down from Milwaukee this morning. And
besides, my cell phone got burned up in the front seat.” He didn’t mention that the device didn’t
work.

“Do you have a place to stay?”

“Yes. They told me I’ll have a room at the hotel that’s next door to the theater. Do you know how
far away that is from here? Could I walk it and come back and get my things?”

“No, Pigeon Forge is a good thirty miles from here. You’d freeze to death just wearing that
hoodie and your stuff would be long gone from here by then.” He paused, looking up and down
at Gray. “Wait a minute. You’re from Milwaukee but you don’t own a coat?”

“Yes—uh—no, it was in the front seat too.”

The deputy nodded as though the answer made reasonable sense. “Tell you what. Pigeon Forge is
outside my county and jurisdiction but, what the hell—Christmas was just a few weeks ago. Let’s
pack up all your things in my patrol car and I’ll take you there.”

Gray again thought he was going to cry for a different reason. “I really appreciate it, sir. I don’t
know what else I would have done. I hope this won’t get you in any kind of trouble?”

The deputy seemed to relax and gave him a friendly smile for the first time. “It’s okay. My dad’s
the sheriff. He won’t mind me helping somebody who needs help. In fact, he would kick my ass
if I didn’t.”

“It’s too dark to read your name badge but I’d like to know who’s helping me so I can thank you
properly.”

“The name’s Kyle McCoy. And I’d much rather help someone who seems like a good guy having
a really bad day than spend the rest of my shift chasing drunks and speeders. Come on and let’s
get you loaded up. We’re both freezing to death in this damn snow.”

* * *

After several minutes of driving in mostly silence, the deputy turned and offered Gray an affable
smile. “You hungry? I got some granola bars here in the console.”

“You don’t mind? I’m starving.”

“Eat ‘em all. We got bowls of ‘em at the station.”

“Thank you.” Gray eagerly grabbed one and tore open the wrapper.

“So tell me how you got to be the piano player for Denise Dailey.”

Gray was finally warming up in the front seat of the deputy’s patrol car, helped by a blanket the
man had pulled from the trunk. By now the little rural highway had turned into a busy divided
four lanes as they passed several exits for an apparently decent sized place called Moorestown.

He swallowed his first large bite of what seemed like the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.
“Well not a whole lot to tell. I started out thinking I was going to be a classical pianist. Got my
degree from Juilliard, which is a school for classical musicians.”

“I’ve heard of it and it’s more than just a school. It’s like the best of the best, but I don’t know
much about classical music. It’s in New York, right? You must be really good.”

“Yeah, New York. I wasn’t bad and I thought my future was pretty set. Get on with a symphony
orchestra somewhere and work my way up. But then the economy crashed and orchestras around
the country were struggling just to stay in business and nobody was hiring musicians fresh out of
school.”

“Times are tight everywhere.”

“You got that right. I didn’t want to go back home to Wausau where I grew up, so I took a
part-time job in Milwaukee as an accompanist and substitute teacher at a high school for the arts.
It didn’t pay much so I also worked nights playing at a piano bar. I only got paid in tips but it
made the difference between paying the rent and eating or being homeless and starving.”

“And let me guess. You didn’t get too many requests for Bach and Mozart at that piano bar,
huh?”

Gray gave the deputy a smile. “See, you do know classical music. But you’re right. I found out
real fast that if I wanted to make any money I had to learn to play everything from Frank Sinatra
to Coldplay. And if I could sing it, the tips doubled.”

“So you’re a singer too?”

“Not one you’d want to hear for more than one song.”

Kyle laughed. “I bet you’re just being modest. So how’d you end up in Pigeon Forge?”

“One of my best friends from school got a job in one of the big booking agencies in Nashville. I
guess Miss Dailey’s piano player walked out on her without any notice and she needed somebody
real fast. My friend knew I was kind of desperate for a job so she went way out on a limb for me
and got me the gig. The pay’s only okay but they’re giving me free room and board in the hotel
and if things work out, it’ll maybe lead to bigger things.”

“Yeah, maybe you’ll end up famous in Nashville and I can say I rescued you the day you were
stranded on the side of the road.”

Gray laughed. “I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting on the famous part.”

“I don’t know about that, Gray,” the deputy turned and smiled. “I have a feeling about you and
my instincts are usually right. And by the way, happy birthday.”

“How’d you know it was my birthday?”

“I checked your driver’s license, remember? Date of birth’s first thing I look at.”

“Well, back there on the side of the road, I thought this was gonna be the worst birthday of my
life. And now, thanks to you, things are looking up.”

Kyle gave him a pleased grin. “Just doing my first duty, which is ‘to serve and protect.’ And
besides—like I said—I’ll look for any excuse not to have to sit on the side of the highway with a
radar gun.”

“Don’t take this as a insult, Officer, but—”

“It’s Deputy, not Officer, but just call me Kyle. We’re not real formal around here.”

“Okay, Kyle. I started to say that I don’t want you to be offended but you’re not at all like what I
thought cops—uh—deputies—around here would be like.”

“Let me guess. You were expecting either Andy Griffith, Barney Fife, or that dumbass deputy
from the Dukes of Hazard, right?”

Gray chuckled. “Yeah, I guess. But like I said, I don’t mean it as an insult. It’s a real sincere
compliment. You’re friendly and obviously very smart—hell, you speak German—and most of
all, you’re really kind to go out of your way to help me like this. No way this would have
happened in Milwaukee or New York. If that’s how all the deputy sheriffs are around here, then
this must be a pretty special place.”

“I don’t know about ‘all,’ but there’s one thing you’ll find in East Tennessee and—with you
coming from the north—maybe this is also a piece of free advice. If you treat people with
manners, kindness, and respect here, it’ll come back to you in spades.”

“Why wouldn’t I treat them that way?”

“Then you don’t need my advice. You’ll just find that all those hillbilly stereotypes you’ve seen
on TV are pretty ridiculous once you actually make the effort to see beyond the way we talk or
the way we dress or even the music we like. These people are real proud of their heritage and
with good reason. ‘Course I was born and raised here so I’m a little biased, I guess. But once you
make a friend, they’ll do anything in the world for you and not expect a single thing in return.”

“I grew up in northern Wisconsin and folks there are exactly the same way. We may talk
differently, but you’d be surprised at how well you just described the people where I’m from.”

“Really? Then I think you’re going to fit in here just fine, my friend. And, if you see that great
big marquis sign up ahead on the right, that’s gonna be your new home, the Country Legends
Resort and Spa.”

“Geez, when I first heard the name, along with ‘resort’ and ‘spa,’ I thought the hotel was way up
on top of old Smoky or something.”

Kyle laughed. “Nope. Welcome to Pigeon Forge. You might think you’ve landed on another
planet. As you can see, there’s a big outlet mall across the street, a mini-golf and water slide park
next door—but it’s closed during the winter—and the Amazing World of Freaks Museum on the

other side of you. The entrance to Dollywood is just ahead on the left past the outlet mall and
those are just your next door neighbors. Wait’ll you see the rest of this place.”

“Wow, Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

Kyle laughed. “I like you, Gray. I can tell you already get this place.”

“Well from the other marquee sign, I get that my new boss is the big star. So Denise Dailey’s
Country Legends Dinner Theatre is just for her?”

“Yep. Just like in Las Vegas—only without the gambling. I’m pretty sure she owns both the hotel
and the theatre.”

“Wow, that’s something. I don’t know a lot about country music but I hate to admit I’ve never
heard of her. Does she have a lot of hit songs?”

Kyle pulled under the porte cochère and killed the patrol car’s engine. “My partner knows a lot
more about country music than me so he could probably tell you all about her. But I think ‘had’
would be the accurate word. Back in the eighties—or maybe it was the nineties—she had one
really huge number-one hit called I Do With You.”

“Oh yeah, I know that song. Lionel Ritchie sang it.”

“But Denise wrote it and made it a country hit first. Better learn that one quick because you’ll
probably be playing it every night. People remember it well but what Denise Dailey is really
known for now is how well she can sing just like all the great ladies of country music. She even
changes costumes and puts on wigs and looks and sounds just like them.”

Gray smiled and shook his head. “I don’t even know who the great ladies of country music are.
They never taught that course at Juilliard.”

* * *

Gray was able to load all his worldly possessions onto two rolling luggage carts. He thought it
sort of a sad commentary on his twenty-five year-old life at this point. He had been tempted more
than once just to give up, go back home to Wausau, and find a job teaching music at one of the
high schools there or maybe over in Stevens Point. But as much as he was proud of where he was
from, he wanted a lot more than that and he was not yet ready to discard his dreams.

He’d had high hopes of one-day playing and touring with one of the “Big Five” orchestras,
preferably either New York, Chicago, or Cleveland. But now, with those plans stalled, maybe
playing on sessions in Nashville’s recording studios or touring with a popular band might be
interesting, fun, and maybe even profitable—at least while he was still young and single. After
all, most country music today sounded an awful lot like pop rock so it wouldn’t necessarily have
to be all twang, fiddles, and steel guitars.

“Okay, Gray, I think you’ve got everything,” Kyle said as he closed the patrol car’s trunk. “Good
luck with the new job. Maybe I’ll come over some night and see you play.”

“Deputy—Kyle—I don’t know how to thank you. What you did for me tonight goes way beyond
the call of duty and it’s something I will never forget. Would you consider coming to the show as
my guest and let me treat you and your wife to dinner beforehand?” He eyed the wedding band
on Kyle’s left hand. “Please let me at least do that for you.”

“That’s real nice of you but not necessary. Like I said, I was just doing my job.”

“Please, Kyle, I insist. I owe you at least that.”

“Okay, that’d be great but only if you can also join us. But I should let you know something;
there’s no wife—but I am married. His name is Colby. If that’s a problem, I’ll understand.”

Gray did a double take and took a step back in surprise. This big, broad shouldered blond man
who looked like a clean-shaven lumberjack epitomized everything he’d ever thought was hot
about a totally unattainable straight guy. Shit—admit it—Deputy Kyle McCoy was a walking,
uniformed jack-off fantasy. Gray had even forcibly suppressed his huge attraction to Kyle for fear
he would send the wrong signals and wind up kicked out of the car and stranded again on the side
of the highway.

“No, that’s no problem at all. I’d love to meet Colby.” Gray paused and then decided to make his
own reveal. “And, if you guys have a single buddy who is like-minded, bring him and we’ll make
it dinner for four.”

“Really?” Kyle raised his eyebrows in surprise and then grinned and nodded his understanding.
“And I thought my gaydar was better than that. It just so happens Colby and I might know
somebody who is ‘like-minded’ and he also happens to be a heck of a good looker in case that
whets your interest.” He opened his wallet and pulled out a personal business card printed with
both his and his partner’s names and contact info. “Once you get settled in, call or e-mail me and
we’ll figure out a date. We don’t live far away; actually you and I drove through Moorestown on
our way here.”

“You’ll hear from me soon. Thanks again, Kyle. I just got here and feel like I’ve already made a
friend.” He glanced at the card. “Maybe even two of them.”

Kyle grinned and lightly slapped Gray’s shoulder. “Who knows? Once you meet our buddy it
might even be three.”

Chapter Two

Gray awoke to the sound of loud knocking on the door of his room. He’d been so exhausted the
night before he had hardly looked at the space beyond thinking it must have been the one room in
the seemingly upscale hotel that a paying customer would not want. Room 649 was at the end of
a long corridor and tucked between a maid’s station and a small noisy alcove containing an ice
machine and a couple of vending machines.

Room 649 was basically a rectangular box with only one window overlooking what, in the
darkness, had looked like a flat roof below with vent fans for what was probably the restaurant’s
kitchen. But, the room was spotlessly clean and furnished simply but functionally with a desk, a
single loveseat and table, a low-rise dresser with a flat-screen television on top, and a nice-sized
bath with a walk-in shower. And, as he discovered, the mattress on the king-sized bed was of far
better quality than the one that had come with his cheap furnished apartment in Milwaukee.

All in all, he’d thought before collapsing into sleep under the soft, warm covers, he was damn
grateful to have it.

“Coming! Be right there!” he shouted, looking for the jeans and t-shirt worn the previous day. He
sniffed his t-shirt as it slid over his head and he could smell an unpleasant combination of smoke,
burnt rubber, and a more than slightly sour whiff of two-day old sweat.

Gray released the bolt lock from the door and opened it.

“Well well, just look at you, darlin’. They’ve done sent me a boy toy.”

“Huh? Excuse me?” Gray replied, sleep still in his voice.

“Let me in, sweetheart. We need to talk. We have a lot to get done today.”

“You must be Miss Dailey?”

“One and the same. Only call me Denise. And you’re – what’d they tell me your name is? Gary
Wagley?”

“No ma’am, it’s Grayson Wagner.” He extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He was
surprised at her strong grip.

She looked him in the eye in the way first impressions are calculated. “Well at least this one’s
mama taught him some manners.”

Gray looked at the woman standing in his small room. She was as tall as he and looked like she
outweighed him by at least twenty pounds. But not with fat. She was built like a playing-shape
linebacker, wearing a pair of purple velour jogging pants and a matching zip-up top that could not
hide her prodigious set of breasts. To Gray’s appraising eyes, they looked too big to be real but
admittedly, he rarely paid much attention to women’s tits.

Her hair was pulled back into a long ebony ponytail and she wore no makeup. Gray could tell
from the wrinkle lines flanking her eyes and mouth that the woman was probably somewhere in
her fifties. Still, he thought, she had classic features that, with makeup, could probably make her
look simultaneously stunning and intimidating.

“Uh, sorry for my appearance, Miss Dailey. I got in late last night and I just woke up.”

“Again, cut the Miss Dailey stuff and call me Denise. And I want to know why you were brought
here by a Moore County deputy sheriff.”

Gray briefly explained the circumstances of his arrival.

“Oh, you poor baby. You must have been scared to death. Come here and let Mama Denise give
you a big hug,” she said, enveloping Gray in sweeping arms that crushed him to the point of
discomfort.

“Whew! You need a shower, love.”

“Sorry, ma’am. I’ll get cleaned up here as soon as I can. I need to find someplace to wash some
clothes. Everything I have to wear got muddy and soaked when I had to toss them out of the car
so fast.”

“We don’t have time to wait on you to do laundry. While you’re in the shower I’ll have my
assistant Lonnie bring you up something from my mini-mall. You’re what? About six feet tall?”

“On the dime, ma’am.”

“One more time—drop the ma’am stuff. You look awful skinny to me. You been getting enough
to eat?”

“I got laid off from my teaching job right before Thanksgiving. So money’s been a little tight
lately which is why I really appreciate this opportunity you’re giving me.”

“Well that’s what it is—an opportunity. You’ll either cut it or you won’t. But in the meantime we
gotta get you some clothes, sugar. What’s your waist size?”

“About thirty or thirty-one, depending on the cut.”

She playfully slapped him on the chest. “Oh, don’t make me commit jealous homicide. Lonnie
will take care of you so just tell him anything else you need. Knowing him, he’ll want to take
care of you better than you want.”

“What’s that mean?”

“No time to explain now because we need to hurry. Friday and Saturday nights were a near
disaster with me having to be my own piano player for every song. The show was dark last night
so we caught a break but we got” – she looked at her watch – “thirteen hours before show time at
eight tonight. Me and the band’s gotta get you rehearsed in a hurry ‘cause we can’t let the guests
hear anything less than perfection – especially since the piano is featured upfront near me. You

be down at the theater at nine sharp, okay?”

“Yes ma’am—uh—Denise. Is there a place I can grab a muffin or something on the way? I didn’t
have a chance to grab lunch or dinner yesterday.”

“I was right—you are starving, poor thing. I’ll have you some good homemade biscuits and
sausage gravy sent up with your clothes. That’ll stick to your ribs.” She appraised him again.
“Yeah, we’ll get Lonnie to pick you out some stage clothes too. You’re gonna look real
handsome. The ladies will definitely fancy you. And probably a few of the better dressed studs
too, if you know what I mean.” She winked. “But we’re gonna definitely need to put some meat
and muscle on your bones so eat up all your breakfast and don’t you be skipping any more
meals.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think I can afford to pay for a lot of big meals just yet.”

“Honey, you’re a member of the band. You eat free here—that’s one of the perks. The only rule
is if you want alcohol, you gotta pay for that yourself.”

“I don’t drink much, so that won’t be a problem. And I really appreciate everything you’re doing
for me.”

“Just pay me back with good piano playing and use those sexy eyes of yours to flirt with my
audience. And one more thing: we need to do something about your hair. Who’d you let cut it
like that—Conan the Barber?” She laughed at her own joke.

“No, I usually just cut it myself.”

“Not if you’re gonna be in my show. We’ll squeeze that in sometime today. I’ll get Kristopher at
the salon and spa to do you. And,” she added, “believe me—he’d love to do you.”

* * *

Gray had just stepped out of the shower and was toweling himself dry when someone knocked
loudly on the door. He wrapped the towel around his middle and, while not really comfortable
with answering the door that way, decided it was preferable to putting yesterday’s stinking
clothes back on or digging something still wet and muddy from the pile where all his clothes lay.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Lonnnnie, Denise’s assistaaant!” He sang the words more than spoke them. “I brought you
some gooooodies!”

Gray opened the door and smiled. “Hey thanks, Lonnie—come on in. I’m Gray.”

Lonnie’s eyes assessed Gray from top to bottom. “Nothing gray about you, sweetheart. You’re
smoking red hot.” He sauntered in, carrying a large paper shopping bag with the Country
Legends logo printed on the side.

Gray hadn’t expected such an obviously flamboyant gay guy in Pigeon Forge. “Uh—sorry for my

appearance. I just got out of the shower and didn’t have anything clean to put on.”

“There’s a robe in your closet for future reference. But I’m sure not complaining, sweetheart. In
fact, you don’t even need to bother with that towel on my account.”

Gray looked at the man incredulously. He was probably old enough to be his father. He looked
like he might be of Italian or Greek heritage with his dark skin tone and brown eyes. A closely
trimmed dark beard and a muscular, weightlifter’s build gave him a rugged, even butch
appearance strangely contradicted by his otherwise effeminate mannerisms and speech. And
adding further to the incongruity, he also wore a thin gold chain around his neck with a small
gold cross attached to it.

“I think I’ll find that robe you mentioned,” Gray said as he walked to the closet and opened the
sliding mirror door. “Ah, you were right—here it is.” He put it on more quickly than he had
probably ever donned a robe and tied the rope belt tightly.

“You have a really sexy body,” Lonnie said. “I just love young smooth guys with swimmers’
builds.”

“Uh—thanks but didn’t you say you brought me some clothes?”

“But of course!” He sat the shopping bag on the bed. “Just a warm-up suit and a t-shirt. Hope you
don’t mind Denise’s logo on ‘em but they’re black and will look simply delicious on you. I
assumed you already had socks and underwear but can get you some if you need ‘em.”

“I have plenty in my suitcase. But thanks.”

“It’s my pleasure. Denise also asked me to take your muddy clothes and have ‘em laundered.
They should be back in your room by the end of the day.”

“I don’t think I can afford a laundry service yet.”

“Honey, it won’t cost you a dime. We have an in-house laundry where we do all the employees’
uniforms. In the future, just put your dirties in the bags that are in your closet and they’ll take
care of it.”

“Gosh, I’m beginning to think I really lucked out coming here. And everybody has been so nice.”

“That’s because we are nice. And,” he added with a wink, “some of us can be really nice.”

* * *

“Guys, this is Grayson Wagner. Grayson, meet the guys. We’ll save the names, hugs, and male
bonding for later ‘cus we have a lot to get done.” They were on the stage of a theatre-in-the-round
surrounded by several terraced levels filled with empty dining tables. Gray guessed the place
probably seated at least three or four hundred people.

“It’s just Gray, ma’am.” He turned to the other band members and offered a wave of his hand.
“Nice to meet you, guys.”

“Honey, I didn’t get much of a resume on you. I assume you read music.”

“I went to Juilliard.”

“Oh really? Then I guess we’ll have to cure you of that, huh? Can you sight read?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I told you to drop the ma’am. Makes me feel a lot older than I want to be but unfortunately am.
All right, Gray. You got a thick notebook binder on your Steinway there that has dividers
according to what show we’re doing. We do a rotation of six different shows, each color coded
according to day. There’s about twenty songs during every show—and each one goes for about
two and a half hours including costume changes and one fifteen-minute intermission. Even
though there are six different shows, there’s about a fifty percent repetition of content because of
the number of classics we do. My arrangements are simple and true to the original hits. And
everything’s played in order—I won’t ever throw you any curves. Once you get it down, you
won’t even need the sheet music. You with me so far?”

“Sure. So far so good.”

“Encores are different. I work a lot like James Brown did and take several of them. I make the
crowd beg by shouting out who they want me to do. So it might be Loretta, it might be Patsy,
Tammy, or Reba. Or even somebody more current like Carrie or Taylor.”

Gray was surprised that he actually knew who these women are or were.

“And most nights I do Dolly because being where we are, I have to—even though I’d rather just
forget about that stuck-up little addict to cosmetic surgery. But I digress. I make the encore calls
on the spot and shout ‘em out to the band so you gotta be ready to start up two or three seconds
after I call it. All encore songs are in your seventh divider. We make the audience think it’s
spontaneous, but I only call out the ones we’ve rehearsed. Got that?”

“Yes, got it.”

“Finally, here’s the only ringer I’ll ever throw you. Most any night we’ll have a couple in the
audience who has been married eighty years or another who just got engaged at dinner. Or, some
good looking Marine or soldier who is home on leave. The uniformed guys are the heroes to me,
by the way, and I never turn one down. Anyhow, we’ll do whatever song they say is their
favorite. Do you play by ear?”

“Yes, if I know the tune.”

“Good. Most of ‘em are gonna be country songs we already have in our playlist. But if it’s
something awful like rap or something so obscure that even I don’t know it, I’ll make some nice
sweet comment and we’ll do something patriotic by Trace Adkins or Toby Keith. Military men
love anything those two guys put out. But otherwise, the band will follow your lead and you just
start ‘em out in my key. Think you can handle that?”

“I played in a piano bar five nights a week in Milwaukee for two years. There aren’t a whole lot
of songs I don’t know by now but I gotta admit, I’m short on the country stuff.”

“That’s fine—you’ll pick up on that fast because most of the old standards use the same simple
three-chord progression with an occasional modulation up to just make it interesting. The
contemporary stuff is more complex but most of it’s just what we used to call soft rock. I’ll have
Lonnie load you an iPod with my country playlists on it. Listening to that won’t make you throw
up or anything will it, Mr. Juilliard?”

“Once you’ve been asked to play Beer Barrel Polka for the one-hundredth night in a row, nothing
can make you hurl.”

“Did you hear that, Lonnie?” she yelled into the darkened seats.

“Yes, my queen,” he shouted back. “Beer Barrel Polka.”

“No, cum-on-the-brain! Give him all my playlists.”

“He’ll have it with his lunch—as long as he’s my lunch.”

“Guess you already noticed he’s a cock-obsessed little slut, huh?” she said to Gray in a lower
voice.

“Yeah, kind of. But not to worry—I’ll be dining alone.”

“I’m liking you more and more, Gray Wagner. And by the way, his flirting is as harmless as a
Chihuahua trying to top a Doberman. Don’t take it seriously.”

She cleared her throat. “Okay, boys, let’s open the Monday tab and find out what miracles
Juilliard hath wrought here with our new boy.”

Chapter Three

Gray pulled the borrowed hotel courtesy car out of the parking lot onto Highway 441, the main
drag through Pigeon Forge and the same that led into Gatlinburg and the entrance to the Great
Smoky Mountains National Park. It was Sunday and his day off after two weeks as Denise
Daily’s featured piano player. And this was his first opportunity to get out and see some of the
sights of the area.

He was in a good mood. Denise said she loved his playing and loved him and told him he was
way better than J.D., the previous piano player who had walked out without giving notice. He had
asked why J.D. left so suddenly but nobody would talk about it. Lonnie even said “Don’t go
there, sweetie.”

Such an evasion lent itself to all kinds of speculation. But Gray pushed it out of his thoughts,
because today he didn’t care about the previous piano player. For the first time in a long time, he
felt optimistic. He liked this place and these people and he got a charge out of the incredibly
polite audiences’ enthusiastic applause and cheers.

In addition to his piano accompaniment, Denise had made him her comic sidekick. She
good-naturedly teased him on-stage and made his youth and his looks an object for the audience’s
amusement. He didn’t mind. He sort of liked the spotlight on him. And it was his job to make her
look funny and motherly at the same time.

Today, he felt like a bird let out of a cage. Yes, the hotel was very nice and the restaurants there
served delicious fare that was made even better by the fact that it was free. But he’d been cooped
up, spending most of his time—when not in rehearsals—working out in the health club and
listening in his room to the country music on the iPod Lonnie had loaded for him.

He turned on the car radio and, still thinking about work, searched for a station that played
country. Not difficult to find in a place where most stations played it. But, he thought, as he left
the Pigeon Forge city limits, the music wasn’t all that bad. A lot of it really wasn’t country music
at all in his opinion—at least not the my-wife-left-me-my-dog-died-and-I-really-miss-my-dog
kind of songs that stereotyped country music in a lot of peoples’ minds.

He’d been told by a couple of the band members that a lot of country artists dream about
recording a huge crossover hit that makes millions and then is covered by other artists. Or, as in
Denise’s I Do With You, it gets chosen as the theme song of a blockbuster movie. When Gray
asked her about it, she had smiled smugly and said that RCA Records had bought her the hotel,
the movie rights helped build the theater, and royalties from Lionel Ritchie’s hit and others’
versions of the song had ensured a continually growing retirement fund.

He had the highway almost to himself as he entered the adjacent tourist village of Gatlinburg. He
saw nothing worth stopping for as he drove through the nearly empty January streets. Christmas
was over, the New Year’s holiday skiers were gone, and a lot of the shops and attractions had
posted “Closed until Spring” signs on their storefronts. So Gray kept going, deciding to enter the

park and check out what made the Great Smoky Mountains the nation’s most visited national
park.

It was an unusually cold day for East Tennessee according to the local radio station. Having spent
most of his life in northern Wisconsin, Gray was not impressed. But as the altitude increased, the
landscape became more and more snow-covered. Take away the tall mountain and it could have
almost been the same as back home in Wausau. Even though the highway was cleared, the trees
and undergrowth along the sides hung low over the shoulders with a thick blanket of heavy wet
snow. It was comforting and beautiful and it took away some of the homesickness he’d been
feeling.

He was glad he’d brought his little digital camera because he wanted to take some pics to send
his parents. Gray noticed a turnoff and parking area for a hiking trail and decided to stop. He
hadn’t planned on hiking and only had on the hoodie he’d worn that first day he arrived. But, he
had layered it with a Green Bay Packers sweatshirt underneath and heck, he was from Wisconsin.
That was all he needed to stay warm. In fact, when he was eighteen, he had swum in Lake
Superior on New Year’s Day just so he could say he’d joined the Polar Bear Club.

The trail was wide and marked by the footprints of other hikers along with long, smooth ruts left
by cross country skiers. Thank goodness his good winter boots had not been burned in his car, he
thought, as he pulled the hoodie top over his head and began a short trek to find a good photo
spot.

It was so pretty and he had no other place to be so he walked farther than he originally intended.
When he was maybe a half mile into the trail, he heard the sound of rushing water. There’s my
postcard photo, he thought, hoping there was a rock or fallen log where he could place his
camera, set the timer, and step into the picture.

Even though there were signs requiring hikers to stay on the trail and to be aware of black bears,
he’d always heard bears hibernate in the winter. And, the little river that was visible through the
trees was close so what could maybe fifty yards off trail hurt? It wasn’t like he was going to get
lost in such a short distance.

The snow was deep so the going was slow as he pushed aside branches to make a path. Once he
reached the river’s edge he knew it was worth the trip. About twenty feet across, it was really
more of a broad creek than a river but the signs at the start of the trail called it the Little Pigeon
River. And it really was postcard gorgeous.

Large boulders and rock ledges created a series of waterfalls that turned into small rapids as the
water rushed down an incline trailing down the mountainside. He supposed the strong current
was what kept the water from freezing. Snow-covered branches of evergreens hung low from the
weight, making a near canopy of white and green over the cascades.

This was his picture. Gray studied the angles from which he could get the best shot, abandoning
the idea of inserting himself into it. He noticed that if he was careful, he could step over enough
stones to get to the center of the river and get a perfect shot. Carefully, he stepped on the first
rock, then the second.

Maybe one more.

He extended his left foot towards the third rock not seeing the thin, clear sheet of glass covering
it. As he committed his weight to the step, the toe of his boot slipped on the rock’s surface and
careened backward, sending Gray splashing head first into the water.

He felt his forehead bang hard against something before everything went black.

Chapter Four

Gray had the distinct feeling he was upside down. And he was cold—very cold. Feeling blood
rushing to his head, he opened his eyes but he was shaking so hard that he couldn’t identify his
surroundings. It all just seemed white. He blinked and realized he was seeing the ground. And
that someone was carrying him over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He felt woozy. And colder than he had ever been. “Hey,” he managed. “What’s happening? Who
are you?”

“Shut up and conserve your energy,” a gruff voice answered. “I’ve got to get you out of here
before you die of hypothermia.”

“I was trying to take a picture. I must have fallen in.”

“Your camera’s in my pocket and I told you to be quiet. You’re in serious trouble here.”

Gray decided to do as the man said. He tried to assess what had happened. The third rock. It was
the third step he tried to take. It must have been covered in ice. That’s the last thing he
remembered. But he knew he hadn’t veered far from the trail so this obviously strong man
wouldn’t have far to carry him.

He was right. Gray felt himself uprighted and then dropped to a position of staring eye to eye into
the face of a man wearing a green jumpsuit with patches on each shoulder and a name plate over
his chest. A park ranger.

“Take off your clothes,” the ranger ordered.

“What?” Gray’s teeth shattered. “I’m freezing!”

“I said take off your damn wet clothes. Now!”

The ranger kicked off his own high-top boots and then unzipped his snowmobile suit and quickly
doffed it. Underneath, he wore a long-sleeve thermal undershirt, long john pants, and thick white
socks.

“I can’t unzip my jacket. I’m shaking too much.”

The ranger reached for the zipper on Gray’s hoodie and jerked it down in one motion. He pulled
it off, threw it to the ground, and then reached for the tail of Gray’s sweatshirt, lifting its soaked
cotton over Gray’s head. Gray’s boots and then jeans were rapidly removed leaving him wearing
only his undershorts.

“Here, put this on quickly” He picked up the snowsuit he had draped across a snowmobile. “I’ll
help you—yeah just one leg at a time. Good job.” He helped Gray step into the thick padded suit
still warm from the ranger’s body heat.

The ranger quickly zipped the front of the jump suit. “Now put on my boots.”

“But what are you going to wear?”

“I’ll put on your wet boots. I’ll be okay. Come on and hurry, man. We got to warm you up fast.”

Gray stepped into the ranger’s boots and the man reached down to loosely tie them. “I’m going to
throw your wet clothes here in the back of my Ski-doo and then I want you to get on the
snowmobile. Hurry.” He closed the back compartment and motioned for Gray to sit at its rear
before climbing on. “Now wrap your arms as tightly as you can around me and hold on. My body
heat will help warm you during the ride. Also keep your head down out of the wind and bury
your face into the middle of my back.”

“Where are we going?”

“I have a cabin a little ways ahead.” He started the engine.

“Won’t you freeze?” Gray asked, his voice muffled with his face pressed against the warmth of
the man’s neck.

“I’ll live. Now hold on and we’ll be there in five minutes.”

Gray’s body shook so violently he could barely maintain the clasp of his numb hands around the
ranger’s stomach. He gritted his teeth and tried to find feeling in his fingers, knowing that if he
let go he would fall off the racing snowmobile headed up the mountain side. He closed his eyes
and pressed his face as close to the ranger’s warm neck as he could.

As frightened as he was—he wondered if he was in shock—he couldn’t suppress the thought that
this man smelled really good. Sort of a combination of Ivory Soap, fresh sweat, and smoke from
a wood-burning fireplace. He inhaled deeply and found himself feeling woozy again. Did he
maybe have a concussion or was it just the rush of the big man’s scent?

Gray didn’t have time to think further. The snowmobile stopped and the ranger jumped off to
help Gray dismount. Gray blinked hard. The ranger was weaving back and forth. Gray suddenly
felt nauseous.

“Can you walk?”

“I—uh—I’m kind of dizzy.”

“Hold on.”

The ranger picked him up again, slung him over his shoulder, and carried Gray’s slim six-foot
frame up the steps of the cabin. He reached for the unlocked doorknob, kicked the door open, and
carried him inside. He gently lowered Gray to the floor directly in front of a fireplace.

“Stay here and don’t move.”

The ranger disappeared for a moment and returned carrying a red plaid wool blanket. “Wrap this

around you and just make yourself into a cocoon, okay?”

When Gray didn’t respond immediately, the ranger did it for him. “Are you with me, buddy? Do
you understand what I’m saying?”

Gray shivered violently but nodded his head.

“Okay, we’re gonna get you warm real soon now. Will you be okay if I leave you for a sec?”

Gray nodded again. He watched as the man went back outside and returned with his arms loaded
with firewood.

“We’ll build up this fire and get it real nice and toasty in here,” he said as he tossed three of the
logs on top of the few already burning. “And I’m going to go make you a big mug of hot herbal
tea. You going to be all right if I leave you again?”

“Yes sir,” Gray answered meekly. He was beginning to realize the stupidity of what he’d just
done. “I’m feeling warmer now. Thank you.”

“Good. I’ll be right back.”

As he turned toward what must be the kitchen, Gray watched the muscles of the man’s back
showing through his tightly fitting thermal undershirt. As cold and as frightened as Gray was, he
wished he could get close enough to smell the ranger again.

* * *

Gray sipped his cup of tea with a fresh slice of lemon added. It was sweetened with honey and
tasted wonderful. He was no longer shaking. Two aspirin and an ice pack for his head were
beginning to ease the dull thud from the left side of his forehead. He could now feel a knot there
but he was no longer dizzy nor was his vision blurred.

The ranger was stretched out on the red-plaid fabric sofa. His bare feet toasted near the
now-roaring fire. In the over-heated cabin he had taken off the long-john shirt, revealing a
wife-beater undershirt underneath. Gray found it hard not to eye the rippled physique that looked
more the result of chopping a lot of wood than attributable to workouts in some gym.

“I want to thank you but I don’t even know your name,” Gray said after a long but not
uncomfortable silence.

“It’s Jacob Kent. Yours?”

“Grayson Wagner. Friends call me Gray. I really appreciate you saving me, Jacob. In fact, I think
you saved my life.”

“You bet your dumb ass I did. Now that you’re out of danger I should take you behind the
woodshed and give you a good whooping.”

“I don’t appreciate being talked to like that.”

“Deal with it. I’m really pissed at you. Did you not see all the signs that said you were in a highly
sensitive protected reserve area and to stay off it? That’s the habitat of one of the rarest fern
species in the world and stepping on them when they’re frozen will stunt or even kill them next
Spring. Not only that, do you know how dangerous leaving the trail is? You are so damn lucky I
decided to go for a short ride this morning. It’s my day off, you know.”

“I’m really sorry. I just wanted to send my folks a picture of how beautiful the river was.”

“Which is why we have designated photo op spots all over this park. If I hadn’t seen fresh boot
tracks walking off the trail toward the river I would have never found you. And you, my stupid
friend, would likely be dead now. It’s seventeen degrees out there. You didn’t even have a
goddamn coat on. You think a hoodie’s going to protect you in that kind of cold?”

Gray visibly winced at the scolding. “I know. But I grew up in Wisconsin. I’m used to cold
weather and I wasn’t cold—until I fell in the water, of course.”

“What made you step out on those icy rocks? Are you blind or just dumber than one of those
rocks?”

“I didn’t see any ice. The first two rocks were fine. Why are you yelling at me like this? I admit I
did a dumb thing but apparently you’ve never had that experience.”

Jacob exhaled a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed. “Okay, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
His voice became calmer and slower. “You just scared me. You were barely conscious when I
found you.”

“I’m sorry, Jacob. Really. And I appreciate what you did for me.”

“Well, that’s my job.” He looked closely at Gray. “That knot on your head is getting to be as big
as a ping pong ball. Once your clothes are dry, I’m taking you to the hospital to get you checked
for a concussion.”

“No, I’ll be fine. The aspirin you gave me is working.”

“Do you feel any nausea?”

“A little back when we first got here. But I was shivering and I didn’t eat any breakfast. I’m fine
now.”

“Blurred vision?”

“Not any more.”

“What’s nine times six?”

“Fifty-four.”

“What’s today’s date?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have a calendar. January thirtieth maybe?”

“Let me take a look at your pupils. I’ve had some EMT training.” Jacob got off the couch and
dropped to his knees on the rug in front of the fireplace where Gray still sat. “Open ‘em wide.
Now follow my finger.”

As Jacob’s index finger moved right to left then top to bottom, Gray could feel the man’s breath
on his face. It was sweet smelling and warm. He stared back at the ranger’s eyes, realizing for the
first time they were blue. Really blue. And beautiful. He again could smell that amazing
combination of soap, sweat, and smoke. Seconds passed, maybe minutes and he realized that
Jacob’s finger was gone but the strong connection between their eyes remained.

“Your—uh—eyes look—clear and focused,” Jacob said in a soft voice, all anger gone.

“Good,” Gray said in hardly more than a whisper. “Yours too.”

Jacob broke away first, cleared his throat, and stood. “Um—if you start feeling sleepy or
disoriented you need to tell me immediately. And you shouldn’t be alone for probably at least
twelve hours. You got somebody to keep an eye on you? A wife? Girlfriend? Family?”

“No, nobody. I just moved here. I’m staying at the Country Legends Resort where I work.”

Jacob sat down in an over-sized chair with the same red plaid fabric as the sofa. “What do you
do?”

“I play piano for Denise Dailey’s band.”

Jacob chuckled. “She’s the one with the big hair and big tits who imitates all those country stars,
right?”

“Yep. She’s the one. And those are wigs. You sound like you don’t like her.”

“No, no. I just think it’s kind of dumb that people spend good money to go see that kind of
touristy stuff.”

Gray felt his temper rise. He sat up and glared at Jacob. “Really? Did you know that kind of
touristy stuff provides jobs for about two hundred people who work there? From what I’ve been
told, jobs are something you guys need pretty badly around here.”

Gray’s voice raised in timbre as his indignation grew. “And, every time some touristy person
plops down fifty dollars per head for dinner and a show, about five of that goes to your county
schools, which I also hear need all the good money they can get. Five times three or four hundred
a night adds up real fast. Do you know how many teachers can be hired for a half million dollars
a year?”

Jacob held up both hands in defense. “Whoa—down boy. I didn’t mean to rile you up there. I
wouldn’t have a job either if all those tourists didn’t come to the national park.”

“Then what’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem. It’s just not something I’d ever spend my money on.”

“Then don’t judge our show if you haven’t seen it,” he snapped. Gray surprised himself with how
quickly he had come to Denise’s defense.

“Hey—I’m sorry, Gray. I sure didn’t mean to offend you. Listen, how ‘bout a peace offering?
You said you didn’t eat breakfast and I’ll bet you’ve never tasted pancakes as good as I make
‘em. You hungry?”

Gray stood and the blanket dropped from his shoulders. He still wore Jacob’s snowmobile suit.
“Yeah, I’m real hungry. Hey—I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have come back at you like that.
Touristy shows aren’t for everybody. And besides, I always get cranky when I’m hungry and
bang my head on rocks as dumb as me.”

Jacob laughed as he headed for the kitchen door. “Then we can’t let you be cranky or hungry.
Two big high stacks of flapjacks coming right up.”

“Thanks, Jacob.” He gave the ranger a smile that said thanks for more than the breakfast.

Jacob returned the signal with a look that said he understood. “Uh—my pleasure,” he said
haltingly, not breaking eye contact.

“Um, could we maybe check on my clothes?” Gray asked, breaking the mutual gaze. “I’m
starting to really sweat in this snowsuit.” He reached for the full-length zipper and pulled it down,
revealing his bare chest and stomach.

Jacob’s eyes opened wider. “They’re—uh—not dry yet. I—uh—just put ‘em in the
dryer—remember?”

“Oh yeah—that’s right. But not to worry about me forgetting. My mind’s working just fine right
now.”

“Good. But we’re gonna keep a close watch on you for a while. How about I loan you something
to wear?”

The thought of wearing something of Jacob’s sent an unexpected jolt to his dick. “Uh—that’d be
great. Thanks.” He hoped the sudden bulge in his crotch was not noticeable.

* * *

“Who was that on the phone?” Denise called from the bathroom in her suite.

“Amos at the valet station says Gray borrowed one of the courtesy cars,” Lonnie replied. He sat
on the sitting room sofa with a notebook computer on his lap, furiously trying to keep up with all
the frankly stupid Facebook messages Denise’s fans kept posting.

Denise stepped out of the steamy room in a floor-length purple velour robe, toweling her wet and
long black hair. She reached down to the floor, picked up the breast prosthetic bra she had tossed
there the night before, and deposited it in the separate hamper of things she always washed

himself.

“I told him to. Poor thing’s without a car until he makes enough to buy a new one and he’s been
cooped up in this place for two weeks.”

“Okay,” Lonnie answered. “Amos was just letting us know in case we had a problem with it.
You’re supposed to tell me about those things.”

“Look, I don’t have to tell you every tiny little thing I say or do. We have two courtesy cars that
hardly ever get used this time of year. I told him to feel free to borrow one of ‘em any time he
wants. He saved our ass, you know.”

“Yeah, I know he did. And don’t get me wrong—I like Gray a lot. So far, the audiences seem to
really like him too. He’s got a natural stage presence—deadpan funny but plays his part without
upstaging you.”

“And, he’s cute as a button with his hair cut like that. Reminds me of a young Tom Cruise in that
movie where he danced in his underwear.”

“It was called Risky Business.”

“Oh yes, that’s right. And he’s sexy as he can be in those tight black jeans and v-necked t-shirts
you bought him. The audience eats him up. Why do you think I tease him so much during the
show?”

“Don’t be teasing his sexy ass too much.”

“Now why in the world would you be jealous? You know I don’t go for the Ken-Doll type.”

“And I seriously doubt he’s into a fifty-five year-old cougar either.”

“That is just mean. Why do you always have to be such a bitch?”

Denise seemed irritated but Lonnie knew her too well.

“You know exactly why, missy. Because I’m the only person in this place who both loves you
unconditionally and who also tells you like it is.”

Denise stepped over to Lonnie and kissed his cheek. “Which is why I love you too. So tell me
something, Miss Tell It Like It Is. Do you think Gray likes being here?”

“I think he thinks he’s happy so far. Long term, it’s too soon to know. I also think he plays his
cards close to the chest.”

“I agree. I just don’t want to lose him now that we’ve found him. He’s better than J.D. ever was
and we need a young, sexy guy in the band.”

“Lord—don’t remind me of J.D. and that whole drama scene right out of some TV reality show.
As for Gray, it’s only been a short while since he got here. Give it time, hon.”

“I will. He’s just so damn polite—and he never lets his guard down. We need to get him to
lighten up a little at rehearsals and be one of the boys. He doesn’t even cuss when he screws up
on a song—he just apologizes and then gets it right the next time.”

“I think that’s the Juilliard in him. Gray will lighten up some once he gets to know us and starts
making some friends.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I just think we definitely got us a keeper if we can convince him to stick
around a while.”

“I think the boy just needs to get laid. That’ll keep him happy.”

Denise laughed. “You’re just thinking like you always do, horny boy. Gray’s no slut. He’s the
kind that falls in love. I can tell. And besides, we don’t even know whether he likes girls or
boys.”

“I think he’s gay. He’s not at all intimidated when I flirt with him.”

Denise snickered and slapped Lonnie’s arm. “Even if he is gay, that milk-drinking Wisconsin
boy’s not going to be into some limp-wristed middle-aged flit like you. Not a chance, sugar.”

“Hmmmfff!” Lonnie closed the laptop dramatically and slapped it onto the coffee table. “And
you call me mean? Do your own damned fan mail.”

* * *

“You know what this reminds me of?” Gray sat on one end of the single couch facing the
fireplace and held a freshly refilled mug of coffee. They had just finished a huge breakfast of
pancakes, eggs, and bacon and had jointly hand-washed the pans and dishes and put them away.

“What?” Jacob sat next to him, his left leg curled under him so he could sit facing Gray.

“Home. I mean, not home exactly because we didn’t live in a cabin or on a mountain. But my
uncle owns a cabin up on the border between Wisconsin and the upper peninsula of Michigan
near the Porcupine Mountains. It’s on a little lake and we used to spend a lot of time up there.”

“Good times, I hope.”

“Oh yeah. The best. I’ve ridden plenty of Ski-doos like yours. That’s the only kind Uncle Boyd
and my dad ever bought. I could probably even show you a few tricks.”

“Not today you won’t. But maybe we’ll take a little short ride in a while if you’re up for it and
your head still feels okay.” He paused and smiled. “Only this time we’re going to go slow and
careful and I won’t have to ride in my underwear.”

Gray chuckled. “Now that it’s over, you were so funny when I asked you if you’d be okay riding
in just your underwear. You had this gruff, really pissed-off voice that just barked out ‘I’ll live’.”

“That gruff, really pissed-off voice was scared to death I was gonna lose you.”

“Really?” Gray seemed surprised at the tenderness in his voice. “Once again, I’m really grateful,
Jacob.”

“You don’t need to tell me that anymore,” he said with the same softness. “I know.” He cleared
his throat. “So do you think you’ll be up for the ride? I got an extra helmet and suit.”

“I’m from Wisconsin. Of course I’m up for it. Are there snowmobile trails people can use?”

“No. Visitors are not allowed to ride them in the Park but rangers use them to get where
four-wheel drives cannot when we’ve got a lot of snow.”

“For search and rescues?”

“Yeah, every once in a while. But mostly just people doing dumb stuff—like you.” He reached to
playfully shove and then fondly grip Gray’s shoulder.

Gray liked the touch of Jacob’s hand and it was the first time he had seen him really smile that
way towards him. He thought it made the already ruggedly handsome man about a hundred times
even more attractive along with his short dark hair, blue eyes, and unshaven face. He caught
himself lingering at the sight of Jacob still in his undershirt and realized Jacob’s eyes were again
returning his stare.

Gray searched for something to say, knowing he couldn’t reveal his true thoughts. “Um—how
many times you gonna call me dumb?” he managed, not breaking eye contact.

Jacob blinked first, briefly looked away, and cleared his throat. “Uh—that was the last time.
Promise. To tell you the truth, I’m kind of glad you did it. I like having you here. I don’t get
much company.”

“I’m glad I’m here too. And that was a great breakfast—only now I guess it was more like
lunch.” He reached and felt the knot on his forehead. “And it feels like this thing is going down
some. Can you tell?”

“Let me see.” Jacob scooted closer and lightly touched the reddened spot. “Yeah, I think the ice
pack helped. Let me check your eyes again.”

Jacob drew even closer and this time Gray purposefully drew closer to the scent of the ranger’s
body and the warmness of his breath.

“Yeah, looking good,” Jacob said in a soft voice. He lightly trailed his hand from Gray’s forehead
down to his jaw and held it there. “Are you—uh—bothered by me touching you?”

“No. I like it,” Gray answered, not breaking from Jacob’s gaze.

“You’re really handsome,” Jacob said.

“You too. You gonna kiss me or keep talking?”

“Kiss,” Jacob muttered and brought his lips to Gray’s. It was soft and sweet and almost tentative

and questioning—even shy, Gray thought.

Gray reached for Jacob’s bare shoulders and pulled him closer. “We can do better than that.” He
pressed his mouth against Jacob’s lips and offered his tongue. It had been too long since he’d
kissed a man this way.

Chapter Five

“What a day! Not at all what I expected when I left the hotel this morning but it was a really good
day. Thank you.” Gray squeezed Jacob’s hand and leaned to kiss him again as they sat in
Jacobs’s four-wheel drive in the parking lot where Gray had left the hotel’s courtesy car. It was
dark and the lack of lights in the parking lot left only the light of a nearly full moon and the
illuminated dash lights for them to see each other.

“I wish you would stay with me tonight,” Jacob said. “I’m worried about you driving and like we
discussed, you could have the bed and I’ll take the couch.”

“I need to get the car back to the hotel. Denise was really nice to let me borrow it and they’re
probably getting worried.”

“You can call them on my phone and tell them what happened.”

“Tell them what? That I did something stupid, I nearly died, a hunky hero rescued me, and that if
left up to what I’d really prefer, we’d both spend the night in your bed? It’s too soon for that.”

“But we sure can think about it—right?”

Gray reached to run his hand through Jacob’s short hair. “I think we both need to process all this.
Who would have ever thought I’d meet someone like you in such an unexpected way?”

“You’re right. Me too.” Jacob paused before continuing. “There’s also some stuff you should
know about me that might make you think twice about getting involved.”

“I thought you told me your life story.”

“I left out a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s save it for the next time. I’m not a convicted criminal or anything bad. Will there be a next
time?”

“I sure hope so. Jacob—meeting you has been—”

“Beautiful and wonderful and I want more,” Jacob said, completing Gray’s sentence. He reached
for Gray’s face and pulled him closer. Their lips met yet another time as arms encircled each
other and erections pressed against crotches.

“When?” Gray gasped. “God, I want you so bad.”

“Maybe we’re wrong about waiting. Maybe you should stay.”

“No—I gotta get back.”

“Then you tell me when.”

“I rehearse in the mornings but have afternoons free. I work at night but the shows end around
ten—although that’s probably too late since you have to work early mornings. Maybe you could
come see the show next Saturday and we can have that night and all of your day off next
Sunday.”

“Uh—not sure I can leave here to go see the show. How ‘bout you drive up after the show and
I’ll meet you here?”

“You don’t want to see me play?”

“Yes—I really do. But I’m pretty much on-call here since there’s no one else nearby on duty this
time of year. That’s the price of having free rent.”

“Okay, then we’ll have to make it some time when you’re not on call. I’ve got your cell and
hopefully in a day or so I’ll have one too. I’ll call you about me coming here Saturday, all right?”

“I’m counting on it.”

“I still feel like this has all been a really good dream and that I’m going to wake up in a hospital
where some ugly nurse tells me I slipped in the hotel parking lot and busted my clumsy head.”

“Yeah, and Auntie Em and the Tin Man will tell you there’s no place like home.”

Gray laughed as he opened the car door. “Just tell them my name is definitely not Dorothy.”

Chapter Six

Gray arrived an hour early for the nine o’clock rehearsal on Monday morning just so he could
play the terrific Steinway Concert Grand for a while. He was missing playing classical music and
it was a bit like being homesick for home cooking. Yet, as he played through a repertoire of
favorites, he wondered if there was a way something classical could be worked into the show.

His idea was to take Aaron Copland’s Appalachian Spring and see if variations on its familiar
themes could somehow be turned into a country song. So far, he wasn’t there yet; but he thought
the idea might have some promise.

The time also gave him a chance to think about the previous day with Jacob. He had to admit that
he was still feeling a little giddy. Maybe that’s why he also felt so energized and creative about
the song he was working on. He smiled to himself as he remembered how good it had been to
lean back against Jacob’s chest and have the man surround him with his arms while they watched
the fire and talked about everything under the sun.

He heard the familiar click of Denise’s heels approaching from behind.

“My, that sure is pretty—whatever it is you’re playing. What is it?” Denise placed her hands on
his shoulders and glanced at the pencil scratches he’d made on the blank paper. “You wrote that?
It’s beautiful but it sounds like something else I’ve heard before.”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to. I thought about taking some snippets from a well known piece of
classical music and then try and turn it into an original song for you. Sorry—I was just fooling
around.”

“No, no—you keep fooling around. I love that idea. Been a long time since somebody wrote a
song for me and that was really nice what you were just playing.”

“Okay—thanks—I will, but on my off time.”

“You just finish it, darlin’. That’d be real pretty during my ballad set and who knows? If the
audiences like it, maybe we’ll record it and put it on my website.” She pulled up the stool she
usually sat on during rehearsals and sat down, facing him. “So tell me—how was your day off
yesterday? Do anything interesting?”

Gray noticed that Lonnie, as usual, was a few steps behind her. “Oh, hey, Lonnie. Good
morning.” He decided to be vague with his answer. “It was a really good day. I went exploring in
the park a little. It’s so beautiful up where there’s snow.”

“You must have done a lot of exploring to be gone so long. Yet Amos said the gas tank on the
courtesy car is still almost full. I hope you didn’t spend your money refilling the tank. You know
you don’t need to do that.”

“No, I didn’t go far.” He changed his mind and decided to tell the truth—or at least most of it

because she could practically read minds. “I went for a short hike in the snow up on one of the
trails and had a little accident.” He proceeded to explain what had happened, leaving out the
details of an afternoon spent in Jacob’s arms, albeit fully clothed.

“Oh, my gosh, sweetheart. Let me see.” She came closer and lifted the shock of hair covering the
bruise on his forehead that had, overnight, replaced the former bump. “This doesn’t look good to
me. We’re gonna take you to the hospital right now. Rehearsal can wait.”

“No, I’m fine. Jacob—the ranger—gave me some tests to check for a concussion. He has EMT
training.”

“And you spent the whole day with him?”

“Yes. He was really nice. He said I should not be alone or drive for several hours after I hit my
head so he was pretty insistent I stay.”

“Well, you need to call this Jacob and tell him I want him to be my guest for dinner and a show
as soon as he can get his hero ass here. He took care of one of my own and I want to take care of
him. We’ll even put him and his wife up in a honeymoon suite—on the house of course.”

“Uh—he’s not married. But I’ll call and make the invitation. I’m not sure he’ll accept. He’s
pretty modest about what he said was just doing his job.” There was no way Gray would tell
Denise what Jacob had said about her show being a “touristy” waste of “good money.”

“Well give it a try, honey. Are you sure you’re up for rehearsal today?”

“Yeah, totally. That’s why I started so early. I’m really charged to go today.”

“What a trooper you are—isn’t he, Lonnie?”

“Oh, honey, he’s way more than a trooper! But he keeps ignoring my pleas to let me be his slave
and servant.”

“Give it a rest, Lonnie,” she scolded. “He’s not up to that nonsense today.”

“No—it’s fine,” Gray answered. He pointed a teasing finger in Lonnie’s direction. “I’m figuring
you out, Lonnie. I know what you’re really doing and I appreciate how it’s all just an act to make
me feel welcome.”

“You actually get that?” Lonnie seemed surprised but impressed. The over-the-top attitude
disappeared and turned serious. “Well I hope you do feel welcome—we want you to feel like
you’re part of our family. And you know I tease you just to try and make you blush.”

Gray was mildly surprised at how Lonnie’s voice had lost its effeminate lilt. “I know. But despite
what you might think, I don’t blush all that easily. And ya’ll have made me feel like family.” He
paused and looked at Denise. “Is it okay to say ya’ll? Everybody else around here does.”

“Just don’t say it to the audience, hon.” Denise couldn’t hide her amusement. “This time of year
it’s mostly locals and there’s hardly anything more irritating to them than a Yankee trying to talk

Southern. They’ll think you’re making fun of them.”

“Got it. No bad accents on stage.”

“Well, singing with one is a whole ‘nother matter. How’s your singing voice?”

“Good enough to get tips in a bar. Not good enough to launch my solo career.”

“I’ve been wanting to add some duets for a long time but J.D. just didn’t have the pipes. You ever
hear of Conway Twitty or George Jones?”

“No ma’am.”

“There he goes again,” she said to Lonnie. “They were half of some of the greatest country duets
of all time. Conway sang with Loretta. Tammy Wynette sang with George—she was even
married to him for a while. And then there was Dolly with Porter Wagner and Kenny Rogers with
my dear friend, the late Dottie West—bless her sweet soul. ‘Course Kenny has since sung with
anybody and everybody who wears a skirt and owns a record contract.”

“Well I’m willing, but I don’t think I can sing as well as any of those guys. My voice just isn’t
that strong.”

“Honey, none of those men had a strong voice in the classic sense. Poor Porter could hardly carry
a tune on his best day. But they had a style that was immediately recognizable the minute you
heard them. I don’t really sound like Dolly or Loretta or any of those women I imitate but I make
people believe I do by looking and acting like them and capturing their styles. It’s all theater. All
you have to get down is the inflection and attitude in their voices.”

“Okay, let’s give it a try.”

“Honey,” Lonnie said. “There is no try, there is only do.”

“You quoting Yoda now, Lonnie?” Gray chuckled.

“Who’s that? What’d he sing?”

* * *

“Hey—it’s Gray. How are you?”

“Gray! Man, so good to hear your voice. There was no caller I.D. Are you on your new cell?”

“Yeah. Just got it today. Lonnie, Denise’s assistant, got it added to the hotel account so it’s
cheaper that way; but I still have to pay for it.”

“I’ll put the number in my phone. How’s your head today? Any dizziness or blurred vision?”

“Nope. Just a nice-sized bruise that looks like you maybe hit me in the head with a stick of
firewood.”

Jacob laughed. “I may have thought about it when I was pissed at you but I’m completely
innocent. So you still interested in getting together this weekend?”

“You bet. I told Denise what you did for me and she wants to treat you to dinner and a show as
her guest. She said she’d even comp you—maybe us—a honeymoon suite. How’s that sound? I
can set it up for this Saturday if you want.”

“Sure, I’d really like that,” Jacob spoke haltingly as though trying to make a decision. “But like I
told you before, I don’t think my boss will let me get away. Weekends are when we get hikers
and cross-country skiers who do stupid things—no offense intended.”

“None taken. I’m just a little disappointed. I wanted you to hear me play. And I’m going to start
singing duets with her now. It’s hard-core country but I’m not all that bad at it.”

“I like hard-core country, especially if it’s you singing it. We’ll make it happen soon, okay? If
you still want to come over after the show Saturday like we talked about, though, I’ll meet you at
the parking area in the four-wheel drive. Your car would never make it up to the cabin this time
of year.”

“Yeah, I’m still up for that. You want me to bring you a late dinner from the theater and maybe a
bottle of wine?”

“How about I cook and you bring the wine? Maybe even a couple of bottles if you’re not driving
back that night.”

“If that’s an invitation to stay, I have to be honest—that’s all I’ve been thinking about since I left
you last night.”

“Me too,” Jacob replied softly. “I can’t wait to hold and kiss you again.”

“Yeah, I feel the same way. I just want you to know, though, that spending the night is not
something I take lightly or do with just anybody.”

“You’re preaching to the choir. To tell you the truth, I’m more than a little nervous about it. But
in a good way.”

“Good. Nervous tells me all I need to know. I’ll see you Saturday. Maybe call me tomorrow night
in the meantime?”

“Count on it.”

* * *

“I think Gray lied to us today,” Lonnie said as he folded souvenir t-shirts into tight little aerial
bombs that Denise tossed into the audience during her shows. She sat at her office computer
while Lonnie worked at a side table.

“How’s that, sweetie?”

“That story about spending all of Sunday with his ranger just didn’t fly. For starters, any
competent park ranger would have called for an ambulance at the spot of the accident and
relieved himself of any further responsibility.”

“That’s a real good point,” she said almost distractedly as she typed an e-mail.

“And this business of taking him home to his cabin also is bullshit. Park Service protocol would
prohibit that and I know it doesn’t include him diagnosing a possible concussion. There’s just too
much potential liability in that kind of irresponsibility. I’ll bet you the guy could even get fired
for it. I don’t know all the rules but that story seems awful suspicious. Why would a ranger on
duty take the kind of risk that could cost him his job?”

“Maybe it’s just like Gray said. It was an emergency and he had to get him to a warm place
fast—and that was the closest place.”

“Yeah. But then he lent him dry clothes, cooked him breakfast, diagnosed a non-concussion, and
then did whatever else they did for several hours until when—after ten last night?”

“Yeah, that’s when the valet signed the courtesy car back in.”

“I think our boy might have found himself a friend.” He lifted his eyebrows with double
meaning.

Denise stopped what she was doing and looked at him over the top of the bifocals perched on the
tip of her nose. “More than likely, Mr. Soap Opera Queen, that’s all he found—a friend. And if
that’s so, I’m glad. Gray needs to make friends here to be happy and so he’ll stick around for a
long while. I’m really liking those duets we rehearsed today and the audiences are gonna eat ‘em
up and beg for more.”

“And what if Mr. Ranger’s real interest was in jumping Gray’s bones?”

“Then I’d say good for Gray and we don’t need to know any more details. Besides, Gray strikes
me as the kind of man who does the bone jumping—if that’s the way he leans, of course.”

“Sweetheart, I may just be a big ole queen but I know a very fine gay prince when I see one.”

Chapter Seven

The week had stretched by too slowly and yet it also seemed to rush as well. Gray was anxious
for his Saturday night date with Jacob so the days seemed to drag with his anticipation to be back
in the arms of the big ranger who had rescued him like a page from a romance novel.

Adding to his eagerness were the phone conversations they’d had every night after the show.
Their talks had lasted well past midnight until the point where Gray had to force a goodnight so
that Jacob could go to bed so he could get up early for work. They just didn’t seem to run out of
things to talk about and each conversation made him want to know even more about Jacob.

But, the new duets with Denise made the week fly. He loved first learning all those classic
standards he had never heard but which—he quickly observed—the audiences knew by heart.
Actually performing them—complete with the vocal inflections he’d picked up from listening to
the old recordings over and over again—gave him an adrenaline rush on stage every time the
audience roared with approval.

Denise had told him that there is no more polite or appreciative audience than country music fans
and she was right. Their on-stage connection—him at the keyboard and she sitting on his piano
for the four-song medley they sang each night—had received standing ovations.

And on this Saturday night, they had played to a full house, which Denise said had not happened
during the winter off-season since she had opened the place years earlier. Word, apparently, was
spreading among the regional fans. It didn’t hurt that Lonnie had promoted it daily with tweets
and with posts and photos on Denise’s Facebook page.

“Monday morning, we’re gonna talk about a nice raise for you, sweetheart,” she had said after the
final encore Saturday night. “In the meantime you enjoy your day off tomorrow. You gonna see
your ranger friend again?”

“Yeah. Actually, he’s making me a late dinner tonight so I was hoping to take a courtesy car over
to his cabin.”

Denise drew him into a hug and kissed Gray’s cheek. “I’m so happy. You take that car and keep
it as long as you want—which if you get my drift means as long as you want to stay with him this
weekend.”

“I appreciate that a lot, Denise. Especially that you understand about—uh—you know.”

“Honey, a lot of that Saturday night audience tonight was gay men in case you didn’t notice. And
they were cheering for you as much as for me.”

“Come on—you’re the star.”

“Yes, there’s something about a big-haired, big-busted country singer who does six costume and
wig changes a night. Gay men just love that. But you’re making the show better than it’s ever

been and I love you and thank you for that.”

Gray touched Denise’s arm affectionately. “I love you too, Denise. You rescued me before Jacob
did. Back in Milwaukee, I had almost given up and was a week away from going back home to
Wausau. And my dad would have been happy to gloat that he told me so. He’s convinced I’ll
never have a successful career in music.”

“I’m sure you love your dad, but he’s a stupid ass not to know how talented his son is.”

“I’ve called him worse than that, but I still do love him. Can I just say one more thing?”

“What is it, sugar?”

“Stop worrying that I’m not happy here. I can tell it’s a concern and you don’t need to keep going
out of your way to be so nice. I really appreciate it but just understand that I like it here a lot. And
as soon as I can afford to buy a car and find a decent place of my own, I’ll rent it so you can stop
giving away my room and board for free.”

Denise cupped Gray’s face in her hands. “You listen to me. When Lonnie said you’re family, we
meant it. I know a little bit about making money, so take my advice and save yours. You stay
here as long as you like because we want you here.” She leaned closer and kissed his forehead,
now mostly healed. “Now go to your man.”

* * *

Jacob waited in the empty parking lot with the engine running on his Ford Explorer. It was a very
cold night at that high elevation and occasional bursts of snow from passing clouds created
momentary blizzards that lasted from mere seconds to several minutes.

Gray should arrive any time now—he had called when he left the hotel. He had almost sounded
high, the elation in his voice evident. The show that night had been before a cheering, sold-out
house, he’d said. And, his boss Denise had promised Gray a raise in pay.

That was great news. But all Jacob could hear during the brief conversation was the same dulcet
voice that gave him an erection every time he heard Gray speak.

He’d fallen for him from almost the moment he found him lying in a foot of rushing ice-cold
river water. Ironically, the rock on which he’d hit his head was also what had kept his nose and
mouth raised high enough so that he hadn’t drowned. Thank God for miracles.

Jacob had broken every rule in the Park Service rulebook. He should have called for an
ambulance, gotten the guy stabilized, relinquished control of the scene when the paramedics
arrived, then made an official report for the record.

He had done none of those things.

He might have been correct to rush Gray home to the cabin given the direness and urgency of the
situation. But then to ignore the training he had about the treatment of a possible concussion?

Then to cook the accident victim a frigging pancake breakfast? And to top that off, spend the
afternoon and evening cuddling and making out with him?

It was such a fire-able offense he should have felt serious guilt and shame about it.

But he didn’t. His defense was his weakness—the same one he’d suppressed since he was a
teenager and which now banged loudly on the prison door in which he’d kept it hidden. He’d
been able to keep it out of sight and under control until now, mostly by living like a hermit high
in the mountains. But with Gray in the picture, Jacob’s loneliness and unfulfilled needs were no
longer bearable or tolerable.

This both excited him and frightened him.

Only two other people knew about him—the only friends with whom he could admit and talk
about his lack of experience with a man. Should he confess this to Gray? Or let him continue to
think Jacob had been with a man before? It wasn’t lying because he had made no claims of ever
being with a guy. He had just let Gray assume things because there was never a right time to say
to him, You’d be my first.

He looked at the CVS Pharmacy bag in the front seat next to him. It contained the first box of
condoms he had ever purchased—for use with another man, that is. Could he pull this off without
looking like a complete rookie?

Hell, he didn’t even know which or if both of them would need to put one on. How do you know
which role you like if you’ve never tried either? He just knew that the few times he’d been with
women hadn’t done much for him. Maybe he and Gray wouldn’t get that far. But if things heated
to that point, the two of them had to be safe.

Part of him wanted to hightail it out of there and escape before Gray arrived. Yeah, that would be
a shitty, cowardly thing to do to a really nice guy for whom he had already developed strong
feelings. But he was now on the brink of doing just that.

The decision was made for him as the headlights from Gray’s hotel car shone through the
windows of his Explorer and on his face.

He hoped Gray could see neither his fear nor his hesitation. But he shook both feelings off.

This is what I want. This is what I need.

* * *

“The fire’s beautiful tonight. What’s making it shimmer with all those little greens and blues?”
Gray lay cuddled in the larger man’s arms on the sofa. They each held a glass of the cabernet
Gray had brought.

“It’s apple wood. Prettiest burning wood there is. There’s an old orchard not far from here left

over from pre-park days. One by one the old trees have died and I chop them up for firewood
instead of them just laying there and rotting.”

Gray turned his head for another kiss. “I feel like I’m in some made-for-TV movie right now. The
candlelight dinner you made me—which was really delicious. Glasses filled with good wine. The
apple wood fire and how good it smells. Being in your arms and how good you smell. This is the
most romantic evening I’ve ever had.”

“Good,” Jacob said in hardly more than a whisper. “I feel the same way.”

“It’s getting kind of late. Am I staying?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah. Very much.”

Gray twisted slightly around to face Jacob and kissed him with an urgency that had been building
since his arrival. He reached for the top button of Jacob’s shirt.

* * *

Jacob stared at his almost naked reflection in the bathroom mirror and saw fear in his eyes. His
nostrils flared from rapid breaths and he could feel his blood throbbing throughout his body.
Water ran in the vanity sink for no purpose other than to stall for time. He had even brushed his
teeth longer and more scrupulously than he ever had before.

Gray was waiting for him and Jacob knew this was the ultimate moment he’d both dreamed about
and feared since the first time he’d looked at a man—actually a boy at the time—and felt his dick
respond with desire.

“I can’t stay in here all night. I gotta either do this or run,” he said in a whisper to the mirror.

No, there’s a third option. I’ll tell him I’m just not ready. We’ll just sleep together tonight.

Decision made, he flushed the unused toilet one more time, waited a few seconds, and then
turned off the running faucet. Taking a deep breath, he turned the doorknob and returned to his
bedroom.

The glow from the freshly stoked bedroom fireplace cast the only light on Gray. He lay naked,
propped on pillows on top of the hand-made quilt Jacob’s grandmother had given him when he
moved into the place.

Jacob had never seen a more beautiful sight—and the quilt had nothing to do with it.

A thick shock of brown hair fell across Gray’s forehead, making him seem both boyish and sexy

masculine at the same time. Gray’s long, slim frame revealed striated muscles that were toned
and taut. Smooth, hairless skin reflected the light of the fire, casting shadows that danced across
his chest and abs in perfect synch with the leaping flames. A light treasure trail of brown hair
began at his navel and broadened into the pubic area where Gray’s dick rested soft against his
thigh.

Any thoughts of running or postponing disappeared as Jacob felt his cock respond with the same
base desire that had always propelled it.

Gray watched him, smiled, but said nothing, waiting on Jacob to come to him on his own time
and terms. He knew the running-water-in-the-bathroom tactic and could tell the man was nervous
and stalling.

This was a good thing. It told Gray that Jacob didn’t have a lot of experience. He found it sweet
and endearing. And, in fact, he’d always fantasized about being someone’s first lover. But with a
man as powerfully and erotically enticing as Jacob, such was highly unlikely.

“You’re so beautiful lying there like that,” Jacob finally said.

“Men are supposed to be handsome—like you,” Gray answered in a low, soft voice.

“You know what I mean.”

“You gonna stand there and stare at my beauty or come to bed?” Gray lifted his arms in
invitation.

Jacob dropped his boxer shorts and revealed his erection.

“You’re what’s beautiful in this room,” Gray said softly. “Come let me hold you for a while.
Let’s just cuddle a little.” He knew they would need to take this slowly.

Jacob stepped forward and lowered himself into Gray’s waiting arms. “Mmmm, you smell so
good,” Gray said, nuzzling Jacobs’s neck with his nose and then licking it with his tongue. “And
you taste even better.”

“Thank you.”

Gray almost giggled at Jacob’s answer but restrained himself because of the tension he sensed in
Jacob’s body.

“Just relax. We don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready yet. I could just hold you like this
all night and be as happy as a badger in his burrow.”

“A what?”

“Never mind—it’s a Wisconsin thing.”

“No—I don’t want us to just hold each other. I want to make love with you,” Jacob said in a near
whisper. He turned, faced Gray, and brought his lips tentatively close.

“Then that’s what we’re gonna do.” Gray lightly kissed Jacob’s lips and pulled slightly back. “I
told you it has to mean something to me and this means everything. I starting falling for you the
minute you plopped my freezing ass in front of your fireplace that morning.”

“That soon?” Their lips were almost touching.

“You had to know. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“I felt the same way. I broke every rule in the book by not rushing you to the hospital. I just
wanted you here—with me.”

“And here we are.” Gray kissed him. “Together.” He kissed him again. “I hope for a very long
time.”

Lips pressed together, arms entwined, added words were neither needed nor wanted. Gray buried
his face in Jacob’s neck and deeply inhaled the same combination of scents that had excited him
even when he was desperately clinging to Jacob on the back of his snowmobile. He shifted on top
of Jacob and lowered his lips, tongue, and gently nibbling teeth to the burly forest of dark hairs
spread across pectorals that were more like boulders than mere muscle.

Jacob moaned and squirmed underneath Gray’s touch and gentle bites. He had no idea his nipples
were such pleasure centers. Or maybe it was just the fact that Gray was suckling them. He cupped
his hand to the back of Gray’s head in encouragement to keep doing it.

Gray sensed he was giving Jacob pleasures the man had rarely, if ever, experienced. But, he
briefly thought, living in such a remote place likely presented few opportunities to meet other
men, much less someone whom he might want to invite to his bed.

He moved down, not relinquishing contact between his tongue and Jacob’s skin. Gray reached for
Jacob’s erection and gripped with his hand. He sighed, maybe even moaned at the heated
firmness of length, shape, and girth in perfect proportion to the rest of Jacob’s thick, tall, and
muscled body.

Gray stroked his tongue tentatively against the crown and moaned with impatience as he plopped
the head inside his mouth. Jacob jerked in either surprise or delight or both as he reflexively
grasped Gray’s head in his hands and urged more of his length inside Gray’s mouth.

Gray was neither shy nor hesitant in taking all of Jacob into his throat, briefly choking himself at
first—then pulling back—and then quickly adjusting and returning to the same previous depth.
He’d never thought himself particularly talented at this, but with Jacob, he felt his skill level
vaulting into places he had never been able to achieve before.

Jacob now thrust his hips upward into Gray’s throat so spiritedly that Gray merely held to Jacob’s
thighs and allowed his mouth to be used. His own cock raged with need to thrust itself into
something—making do temporarily against the warm bed covers.

With an especially loud gasp, Jacob bolted upright into Gray’s suctioning lips as spurts of thick
cum filled Gray’s mouth. Gray heard his name being shouted and that alone put him on the edge

of his own release. It had been a very long time since a man had yelled his name while in the
throes of an orgasm.

As Jacob slowly relaxed and began to soften, Gray lapped the few remaining drops he could coax
before releasing the cock from his mouth. He looked up and smiled at eyes that stared back.
Sweat covered Jacob’s brow and he still breathed heavily. But Jacob’s own smile to Gray
communicated contentment and gratitude.

“How you doing?” Gray asked softly.

“Better than I could have ever imagined. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Gray answered. He lifted and scooted up for a kiss. “I loved doing that for you. I
nearly came from it.”

“Then let me make it happen for you.”

“Why don’t we rest a minute and you can hold me, okay? I like it when you hold me.”

“Come here,” Jacob said, lifting his arm and encouraging Gray closer. He kissed Gray’s temple
and snuggled him close. “This is the best feeling I’ve ever had.”

“Getting off like that?”

“No, just holding you like this. I’m feeling things I’ve never felt.”

“You’re still a little euphoric, I think,” Gray chuckled.

“No—I felt this before we started.”

“You were nervous before we started.”

“Yeah. But it was our first time being naked together and—well, everything else. What I’m
talking about is just the feeling I get when I hold you. Like I want to protect you but at the same
time I feel like you’re protecting me. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think that’s called love. Or—at least the beginnings of it.”

“Do you mean that, Gray? You really feel that way too?”

Gray shifted so he could make eye contact. “I’m falling for you, Jacob. That’s what I feel. And
you know what?”

“What?”

“It’s only gonna get better and stronger as we go.”

Jacob’s eyes shifted to the nightstand. “There’s a box of condoms there.”

“Okaaay,” Gray answered slowly. “You telling me you’re ready to go again?”

“No, I’m telling you I want to make you happy now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure as a frog on a June bug.”

“What’s that mean?

“It’s a Tennessee thing. Just take it slow and easy, okay?”

* * *

The fire in the bedroom’s fireplace needed stoking. That was the first thing Gray saw when he
opened his eyes. He must have dozed off after making love to Jacob and from the sound and feel
of Jacob’s heavy warm breaths across his back, their energetic exertions must have had the same
effect on him.

Despite the comforting warmness of the hirsute body spooned against Gray’s back, he could tell
the room was getting really cold. Gray lifted the arm wrapped around his middle and scooted
forward and out of the bed.

With bare feet now planted on the very frigid hardwood floor, Gray stepped naked out of the
bedroom and into the cabin’s great room where he added a couple of logs to the main fire. And
then back to the bedroom carrying six thick sticks of split firewood in his arms. He planted three
of them on top of the dying embers and used the fireplace tool to coax those same coals back into
action.

It worked. With flames beginning to lap hungrily at the outside bark of the new logs, he felt
warmth returning. Mission accomplished.

“What are you doing?” Jacob said sleepily.

“I nearly froze to death once and I have no interest in doing it again tonight.”

“Oh—sorry—I should have built the fire up before we—well, before you—you know.”

Gray chuckled to himself at Jacob’s shy inability to say ‘before you fucked me.’ He returned to
the bed and slipped back under the covers.

“Snuggle closer to me, will ya?” Jacob said in a low, lazy voice that revealed a stronger east
Tennessee accent than the one he used when fully awake. “I was liking how we were laying
together.”

“You were asleep. How do you know how we were laying?”

He wrapped his arm around Gray’s middle. “I was only half asleep. And I like laying this way
because your ass feels so good against me. Can you tell?”

“I can tell somebody’s getting hard again.”

“Do you like it when I do this?” Jacob licked the back of Gray’s neck and pressed his cock more
urgently against Gray’s crack.

“I like that a lot.”

“Really? You’d let me do that?”

“Well sure. You let me fuck you and I didn’t hear either one of us complaining.”

“It was amazing for me. But I would like to also—you know—do you.”

“Jacob, it’s okay to say fuck when that’s what we’re talking about and doing. It’s not a dirty word
in our bed.”

“Then I would like to fuck you too. You sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t get hung up on who’s top and who’s bottom. I think if you love somebody you’ll do
either one if it makes him happy—and I want you to be happy. But you’re bigger than me so just
take it slow and easy at first, okay?”

“Did you mean that? That you love me?”

Gray turned his head enough to kiss Jacob’s bicep. “After all we’ve said and done you surely
know that by now. I. Love. You.” He pushed his ass back against Jacob’s erection. “And I’m
gonna love having you inside me. But you should know it’s been a long time for me.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Just until I get used to your size. Then you can rock and roll. But you know that already—a stud
like you knows exactly what to do.”

“Yeah,” Jacob whispered.

When Jacob seemed to hesitate for several seconds, Gray reached for the bedside table, grabbed a
condom and the tube of K-Y, and handed both to Jacob. “You want me to put it on you?”

“Thanks—I can do it. Uh—what way do you like it best?”

“The way you like it best. When I bottom, I get off on doing whatever gets you off.”

Jacob was silent for the few seconds it took to tear open the foil wrapper and slide the condom on
his cock. He then squirted some of the jelly onto it and rubbed the excess across Gray’s hole.
“How about we do it just the way we are? I love spooning behind you and holding you.”

“Yeah—I love that too, but if I lift my left leg up higher like this, it’ll make it better for you, I
think.” Gray shifted to make the angle of penetration easier. “If you just grab my ankle and hold
it up then you can sort of use my leg as a handle.”

“Okay, let’s try it.” Initially, Jacob fumbled to find Gray’s hole but with the help of Gray’s
guiding hand, he hit the spot. Jacob slowly pressed forward until resistance weakened and the
head plopped inside.

“Slow, baby, slow,” Gray warned through gritted teeth.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just take it easy till I’m used to it.”

Jacob pushed the length a little farther. “Damn, this feels good. I can’t believe how tight you are.”

“Just keep going a little at a time. I’m starting to get used to it.”

Gray finally felt Jacob’s pubic hair pushing against his ass and knew he now had the full length
inside him.

“You still okay?” Jacob asked.

“Oh yeah. Feeling better than okay now. Fuck me, Jacob.”

“Mmmm, this is soooo good. You sure I’m not hurting you?”

“Just let go and do it, baby. I’m loving how you feel in me.” Gray intentionally squeezed his ass
muscles around Jacob’s cock knowing how it would intensify his man’s pleasure.

“Oh, God—do that again!” Jacob panted.

Gray felt Jacob’s thrusts begin to increase with both speed and power as the ranger finally
seemed to stop worrying and just gave into fucking for the sheer, amazing pleasure of it. Even
though Gray had not often bottomed, this was the best part for him—the magic point of no return
when his man finally just lets go and becomes a driving, growling sexual animal.

Gray reached for his own erection and began pumping his cock in rhythm with Jacob’s rapid and
urgent pounding. Despite his previous orgasm when he fucked Jacob, Gray could feel himself
quickly approaching the edge again. His prostate hadn’t been pounded this thoroughly perhaps
ever—and it felt both wicked and wonderful.

“Gray—Gray—I’m getting close!” Jacob’s hot rapid breaths panted across the back of Gray’s
neck.

“Yeah—let it go, Jake! Do it!”

Jacob’s incoherent shouts and grunts told Gray he was filling the condom with his cum. It was
wildly exciting to know his ass and body had gotten his man off so spectacularly and it triggered
his own ropes to shoot across the sheets.

Jacob dropped Gray’s leg and pulled him closer against him, keeping his cock deeply planted
inside Gray’s ass while his arms hugged him from behind.

Gray could feel Jacob’s sweat-matted chest hair sensuously scratching his back as the larger man
planted repeated kisses and small love bites on his neck.

As much as Gray had enjoyed topping Jacob earlier, he’d gotten off on this even more. He all at
once felt loved, protected, desired, and barely satiated until they could do it again. It was the best
fuck he had ever had.

“I love you, Gray,” Jacob said in a soft, emotional voice close to Gray’s ear.
“I—uh—never—you know, never—felt this way before.”

Is he crying?

“Me too, baby. Just stay inside me and keep holding me like this forever, okay?”

“Yeah—forever. I want this forever.”

Chapter Eight

Dawn came earlier at this higher elevation than it did down below. Still, it was early February
and the days were short and the nights long. The dim light from outside indicated it was about
six-thirty and Jacob knew his internal clock wouldn’t be off by more than ten or fifteen minutes.
He didn’t have the need for an alarm clock because he was always awake when the first shades of
light peeked through his bedroom window.

He’d been lying there and thinking for at least a half hour. The euphoric buzz of having sex with
a man for the first time was long over. And that same man was now sleeping beside him.

No, Gray was not a stranger but he might as well have been. As much as Jacob had wanted to be
with Gray this way, now that it was over—now that the reality of what all he’d done was hitting
him like a ton of river rocks—maybe he—this gay Jacob—was the real stranger in this bed.

Gay!

What he had done had gone way beyond merely identifying as gay. He had crossed the line,
joined the club, gone through the initiation, and had been accepted into the brotherhood.

What would his parents think? What would his brothers think? What would Russ Halbertson, his
boss and good friend think? Especially considering Russ’s four kids and the wife who loved
being pregnant so much she said she wanted at least three or four more.

Jacob and Gray had spent the better part of the night mutually pleasing each other. Sucking,
fucking, kissing and licking pretty much every fold and opening that a tongue could reach. This
hadn’t been tentative, stick-your-toe-in-the-water sex. It had been
jump-into-the-deep-end-without-knowing-how-to-swim-sex.

What the hell am I going to do now?

There was no denying or escaping the overwhelming guilt he now felt.

I’m gay.

Panic began to rush his thoughts like a late autumn brush fire stoked by high winds. What if Gray
woke up and wanted to do it all over again? Or worse, what if Gray woke up and started talking
about spending the rest of their lives together as husband and husband?

This is more than I can deal with. Gotta get away from this NOW!

Jacob moved as rapidly but as stealthily as he could across the hardwood floor from his bed to the
great room. He’d never realized how many creaks the planks had in them until now. His clothes
from Saturday night were scattered on the floor in the great room. He put them on as quickly as
he could, wincing when his belt buckle rattled more loudly than it ever had before.

He went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee in the Mr. Coffee machine. As soon as it started
gurgling and hissing he realized he had no intention of staying long enough to drink it. He wasn’t
sure why he’d bothered making it. But at that moment, nothing made logical sense.

Jacob swallowed down the taste of bile from his stomach as he searched for something to write
on. He finally found a legal pad in the kitchen drawer that stored everything from batteries to
scissors. Grabbing a pen from the same drawer, he quickly scrawled a note.

He didn’t take the time to consider the credibility of the excuse he wrote—or more correctly, the
lie he just invented. Nor did he listen to the inner voice that screamed he was making a huge
mistake that might never be forgiven.

Visceral panic had taken control and Jacob’s fear far exceeded his better judgment. He grabbed
his parka from the coat tree near the front door and exited the cabin without putting it on.

He was that anxious to get out of there.

* * *

Bright sunlight streamed through the windows in Jacob’s bedroom, causing Gray to squint and
shield his eyes when he first opened them. It took him a moment to remember where he was but
when he did, he smiled contentedly, reached for Jacob on the other side of the bed, and
discovered it empty.

He looked around for an alarm clock to check the time but didn’t see one. They had made love
until the early hours of the morning and for all he knew, he had slept past noon. Obviously, Jacob
was already up. Maybe he was making coffee or breakfast for them.

But Gray wished he would just come back to bed. Wake-up sex was his favorite. Lazy, sleepy,
cuddly, God-I’m-so-content-right-now sex that lasts all Sunday morning—or maybe in this case,
all afternoon.

He stretched, pulled back the thick, cozy homemade quilt on top of him, felt the chill of the room,
and noticed the fire had burned itself out again. He shivered and was tempted to get back under
the covers.

It must really be cold out. Why didn’t Jacob build up the fire?

Despite the chill in the room, Gray knew he should get up and go give Jacob a big good-morning
kiss. He looked around for something to put on and realized his clothes were still out in the living
room where he had discarded them so heatedly the night before. Grabbing the quilt and wrapping

it around him, he plodded barefoot on the cold hardwood floor to find his man.

The cabin’s great room was empty and the fire in the main fireplace had also died down to only
glowing embers. “Jacob?” he called. “You in the kitchen?” Hearing no answer, he entered the
small adjacent room and found it empty as well. A yellow legal pad lay on top of the counter next
to a strong and viscous looking pot of coffee that appeared to have been simmering there for a
long time.

The printed words on the pad were hardly legible and looked hurriedly written.

Gray:

Sorry to do this to you but I got called out on a search and rescue. Probably be gone rest of the
day and maybe night too. Coffee’s made—help yourself. Your car’s at bottom of the hill. Just
follow the tire tracks. Sorry to make you walk. Talk to you soon,

Jacob

Talk to you soon? What the hell does that mean? I just spent the whole night with my dick up his
ass and vice versa and all I get is “talk to you soon?” Why didn’t he just wake me up and tell me
he had to go?

He read the note again and tossed it down angrily. “No, this is bullshit. Search and rescue, my
ass! He couldn’t get away from me fast enough!”

Gray rejected the hours-old coffee and turned off the pot’s warmer before it caught the cabin on
fire. He returned to the living room where he found his clothes and boots and quickly put them
on. His new artic parka hung on the coat tree just inside the front door. He put it on, zipped it up,
reached for the doorknob, but then paused.

One more thing.

He went back to the kitchen and Jacob’s note and found the same pen his erstwhile lover had
used.

Jacob:

If you hated it or me that much you should have just said so. At least you could have been a man
about it. Don’t bother “talking to me soon.”

Gray

* * *

Jacob pulled the Explorer into the driveway belonging to the only two people he could talk to
about this. He’d met them a year earlier through a confidential counseling service he’d contacted
and they had since become his closest friends.

He was still in panic mode and was relieved and thankful they had been home when he called
earlier that morning. He ignored the spectacular panoramic view of the Smokies from their house
on the side of Booker’s Mountain; or the vista below of the small city of Moorestown.

He rang the doorbell but didn’t wait for the answer. He opened the door and hollered inside.

“Kyle—Colby—I have so fucked up!”

Chapter Nine

Gray didn’t want to go back to the hotel. Instead, he went shopping, which was the only thing he
could think to do to delay his early return home.

Pay day having been the previous Friday, he went to the Super Walmart in Sevierville and bought
a small microwave, a dormitory-size refrigerator, an electric can opener, a set of knives, forks,
and spoons, and a couple of bags of groceries and supplies. He didn’t feel like eating at the
hotel’s restaurants for a while where every employee now knew him and treated him like family.
And, where everyone probably already knew he had a boyfriend.

Emphasis on “had.”

He also stopped at the liquor package store just down the street but discovered it was closed;
there are no Sunday liquor sales in Sevier County. He didn’t care. He knew he could borrow
something from Jimmy at the hotel bar and replace it on Monday. Jimmy would understand and
keep it between them.

On a whim, he stopped at a video rental store and bought a handful of used one-dollar DVD’s. He
didn’t even care what the titles were as long as they were comedies that might make him laugh. It
wasn’t until he’d left that he realized the room didn’t have a DVD player and he was in no mood
to fight the Sunday Walmart crowds again to go buy one.

He was sad and depressed. He wasn’t even sure why he’d gone shopping when what he really
wanted was to hide in his room with the lights off with a drink of something alcoholic in his
hand. He didn’t even care what; he drank so little he had no preferred drink of choice.

He knew as soon as he checked the car in with the valet, everyone would know. That’s the price
of living in a small town called a resort hotel. Denise and Lonnie would know exactly when the
car was returned and they would wonder why, when she’d told him he could keep it until
Monday morning if things worked out.

They didn’t. How could he have been so sure about Jacob’s feelings for him just a few hours
earlier and now feel so betrayed? How could a man say such beautiful things to him during the
oh-so-tender moments of their lovemaking and not mean a single word of it?

Sure it had just been one night, but they had spoken for hours at a time every day since Jacob had
rescued him from the river. He felt like they had already established a friendship, a bond, and a
mutual understanding based on having so much in common, despite their vastly different
backgrounds. He had dated several guys over the years but had never felt this way so soon or so
strongly about anyone—including the man who had done this same thing to him once before.

With Jacob, it had all obviously been a lie and Gray felt like a stupid fool. For all he knew, Jacob
had a wife somewhere and was just on the down-low. That could explain why he was so nervous.

Maybe Jacob didn’t even live at the cabin. Maybe it was just the secret fuck shack where he took
his tricks.

And if that’s all it was to him, why didn’t Jacob just have the balls to look Gray in the eye and
tell him it was only a one-night stand?

Damn him! Tears clouded Gray’s eyes as he finally pulled the car into the hotel parking lot. He’d
opened his heart to this man and now he felt cheap, used, and most of all—really hurt.

Damn him!

* * *

“Calm down, Jacob,” Kyle said. “Crying’s not going to make it better.”

“But I’ve so blown it. He’ll never want to see or talk to me again. I just up and ran like a scared
little baby.”

They sat at the dining room table in Colby and Kyle’s house with mugs of coffee in front of
them.

“I’m going to say it again. It was your first time, buddy,” Colby said in a quiet but reassuring
voice. “You’re dealing with all kinds of guilt and coming out issues that we’ve talked about
before. Remember? We told you to expect this. That’s what the counseling has been all about,
right? You just panicked and forgot to take the deep breath and the step back.”

“I know. God, I wish I had just woken him up and confessed what I was feeling. But I looked at a
real live man sleeping in my bed and it scared the shit out of me! I was in shock that I had
actually slept with him and did everything two men can possibly do with each other. I just had a
panic attack and had to get out of there as soon as I could.”

Colby chuckled and winked at Kyle. “Buddy, I love you—you know that—but you guys didn’t
come close to doing everything two men can do together. Listen, lighten the load on yourself a
little. We’re here to help you carry it and we’re gonna be here for you for as long as it takes.”

“Thank you both so much. I don’t know what I would have done if you guys hadn’t been here for
me.”

“That’s why we’re here—on top of you being like our kid brother. Just remember that both of us
went through the same thing as you. We both had to deal with coming out issues. You know—me
in the Air Force and Kyle as a deputy sheriff. And look at us now. We’re happily married and
even looking to adopt a kid or two.”

“Or three.” Kyle added.

Colby smiled at his partner and returned to Jacob. “Don’t decide all is lost with this guy. There
could still be a happy ending for you and—who? You still haven’t told us his name.”

“Gray. He works in Pigeon Forge.”

“What’s he do?” Kyle asked.

“He plays the piano in a band at one of the theaters. It belongs to a country music singer—you
probably know her—Denise Dailey.”

“I know her and him.”

“What?”

“I know that guy. Three or four weeks ago his car burned up just inside the county line near Bulls
Gap. Remember, Cole? That’s why I was so late getting home that night.”

“Yeah, I remember. Is this the same guy, Jacob?”

“You must have been the deputy who packed up all his things and drove him to the hotel. He said
you saved his ass and went out of your way to help him.”

“He seemed like a good guy. And all that happened on his birthday to boot. I can’t believe that’s
who you met.”

“I found him nearly unconscious in the river last Sunday and pulled him out before he froze to
death. That’s how we met. And we just hit it off from the get-go. We spent the whole day
together. And for the first time, I was comfortable opening up as a gay man and he did the same
with me.”

“See? That’s great progress. You couldn’t have done that six months ago. The question is, do you
want to try and fix things with him or are you just not ready for a relationship?” Kyle reached and
covered Jacob’s hand with his own. “Buddy, it’s okay if you’re not ready. Just be honest with
yourself and don’t rush things faster than you should.”

“No—I feel terrible about what I did.” He paused to take a sip of coffee and glanced first at Kyle,
then Colby. “I really need to fix this. I think I might be falling in love with him.”

“It might be a little soon to know that just yet,” Kyle said. “Maybe you’re just a little giddy high
on the newness of having your first gay relationship.”

“Seems like you told me that you fell in love with Colby the very first night he got back from the
Air Force. Remember? You both had the meat loaf special at Ina and Aden’s Diner.”

“He’s got you there, sweetie,” Colby said.

“I just don’t want Jacob to get hurt.”

“And I appreciate that,” Jacob said. “I know it seems too soon but Gray and I have talked for
hours every day since we met. And despite my stupid behavior this morning, last night was the
best night of my life. It wasn’t just sex, guys. It was opening my heart for the first time ever. God,
if only I hadn’t panicked and run.”

“Stop beating yourself up. Answer me this—do you think he feels the same way about you?”

“I know he does. He said things—I said things—that go way beyond just saying I like you—and
he’s not the kind of guy who makes those kinds of statements lightly. I know that.”

“Okay,” Kyle said. “Then let’s put our heads together and figure out how to fix this, all right?
Colby, I think we might need to make another pot of coffee.”

Chapter Ten

It was early Monday morning and Gray had just made a cup of coffee in his new microwave. His
cell phone rang with a caller ID that looked familiar but not quite enough for him to place. It said
Kyle McCoy. From where did he know that name?

“Hello.”

“Hi, is this Gray?”

“Yes. Who’s calling, please?”

“It’s Kyle McCoy. Remember the deputy sheriff from a few weeks ago?”

Gray slapped his hand against his head. “Oh, gosh. I’m so embarrassed. I was supposed to call
you but I’ve been so busy I completely forgot. I’m really sorry, Kyle.”

“No, no—I told you I was just doing my job and didn’t expect you to do anything. So how’s your
new job going?”

“Really well. I like it here and I guess Denise is pretty happy too. We’re playing to some big
audiences to be the off-season and all.”

“That’s why I’m calling. I called your ticket office just a few minutes ago and tried to make a
reservation for this coming Saturday. They said you’re completely sold out.”

“Yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day and there’s a special show planned. But why did you call Show
Reservations? I told you I wanted you and your partner to come as my guests. By the way, how
did you even get my cell number?”

Kyle laughed. “I had ‘em connect me to the management office. I told ‘em I was doing a follow
up on your car incident and needed your number.”

“Smart guy. But you could have just had the front desk ring the hotel phone in my room.
Anyhow—I’d love to have you guys come on Saturday. We always hold back a few tables for
friends and VIP’s.”

“I’ll be glad to pay for it.”

“No, you won’t. No way. Will it just be you and—what was your partner’s name again?”

“Colby. And—uh—you asked if we had any like-minded friends. We might just have somebody
you’d like to meet if you’re still interested.”

Fresh off the debacle of the previous weekend, meeting another guy was about the last thing Gray
wanted. But, on the other hand, what could it hurt to make a new friend, even if it turned out to be

nothing more than that. And besides, Kyle had been really kind to help him at a very desperate
time in Gray’s life. It would be rude to turn down his offer.

“Sure, I’d love to meet your friend. So I’ll put you down for a table of three. All you have to do at
the VIP window is give them your name. Dinner starts at seven and the show begins around
eight-fifteen.”

“You’re gonna make it a table of four and join us, I hope?”

“Oh sure. I’ll have to leave a little early for the show but by then I’ll already be in stage dress and
ready.”

“And you’re sure you won’t let me pay? We’re not looking for a free meal out of this.”

“You are my very special guests. Just be there and I’ll make sure you have the best seats in the
house.”

* * *

Kyle clicked the Stop button on his phone and looked at Colby. “Well at least we have a shot at
this. I had to lie about how I got his cell phone number but it was for the greater good.”

“You wanna call Jacob or should I?” Colby took a sip from his coffee mug. His civil engineering
textbook was spread out in front of him on the kitchen table.

“Would you mind? I need to get out on patrol before Dad fires me. You might want to coach
Jacob a little about what to say when he calls Gray.”

“Will do. I’ll call him on the way to class. You want to meet up during your ten-forty today,
Deputy?”

Kyle smiled. “You just love using cop talk, don’t you? Yes, lunch would be good. You can fill
me in on how our boy makes out. How about Ina and Aden’s Diner at noon?”

“Sure. But why not just come home for leftovers? We’ve got plenty that Mama gave us yesterday
from Sunday Family Dinner.”

“It’s Monday—hello? Ina’s chicken and dumplings special.” Kyle leaned forward and kissed his
husband. “And besides, as Jacob so correctly pointed out, it’s where I fell in love with you so I
always like going there with you.”

“You fell in love with Ina’s cooking long before me.”

“Now, now, don’t be getting jealous—there’s plenty of my love to go around,” Kyle teased.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you, funny guy.” Colby cupped Kyle’s jaw in his hand. “You just be sure
your love stays safe while you’re on duty today, you hear?”

“I always keep it that way. You know how much I love you.”

“I love you even more.”

That’s how they always said goodbye when Kyle went on patrol.

* * *

The morning rehearsal was over. Since Gray had the regular show routines practically memorized
now, they had concentrated on the Valentine’s Day Special that Denise and Lonnie had planned
and choreographed. Holiday shows were always their biggest draws and this one, with its special
Lovers Package that included champagne and an overnight stay, had been sold out for weeks.

Fortunately, neither Denise nor Lonnie had asked him about his shortened weekend with Jacob.
But he could tell they both knew something went wrong and perhaps knew he didn’t want to talk
about it. When they’d finished rehearsal, she kissed his cheek and spoke softly in his ear so that
none of the other band members could hear.

“Whatever it is, sweetie, you know you can talk to me or Lonnie and we’ll be there for you. You
know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I’ll be okay. I just need a little while to get over it, okay? But thank you.”

“I got strong shoulders to cry on if you need ‘em, honey.” She patted his arm and walked off the
stage.

He sat at the piano thinking yet again about his sadness when his phone rang. He looked at it and
frowned. Jacob. Might as well get this over with.

“Thought I said not to bother calling me.”

“Aren’t you gonna at least say hello and let me try to explain?”

“Hello. And how could you begin to explain running out on me like that?”

“Would you please give me a chance? I do have a reason; maybe not one I’m proud of but at least
I’d be leveling with you. I could come over to your place or we could meet somewhere.”

“Jacob, why should I? How can I believe anything you say at this point? Do you have any idea
how hurt I felt that you couldn’t even stand to look at me or talk to me Sunday morning?”

“God, that’s not at all what it was! You’re so amazing to me it’s scary—and that’s part of the
explanation. It was all on me, Gray. Please at least meet me for some lunch or even just a cup of
coffee.”

“All right. I’ll listen—but I’ll make you no promises.”

“You know the Cherokee Inn on the main drag close to you?”

“Yes. When?”

“Now?”

“How far away are you?”

“I’m there now. I was hoping.”

“Okay, give me ten. I’ll just walk over. But know this upfront, Jacob: I’m a once burned, twice
shy kind of guy.”

“I can’t blame you. I can only tell you what’s in my heart and the rest is up to you.”

* * *

The instant Gray saw Jacob sitting by himself in the booth at the Cherokee Inn he wanted to
simultaneously grab him, hug him, kiss him, and forgive him. Jacob looked terrible. He hadn’t
shaved probably since Saturday, although that in and of itself was sexy as hell to Gray.

But Jacob also had bags under his eyes and wrinkles Gray had never noticed. And those same
cobalt blue eyes—not yet seeing Gray—looked puppy dog sad as they stared into empty space.
But despite the temptation to forgive, Gray was determined to keep up the wall of resistance that
Jacob’s desertion had built.

“Hey, Jacob,” Gray said quietly, standing in front of the booth.

Jacob, apparently lost in his thoughts, jumped from the table in surprise, nearly knocking it over.
He clumsily pulled it back down and gave Gray a weak smile. “Uh—sorry. God, I’m so nervous.
Please sit down.”

Gray took a seat on the opposite side. “Jacob, something’s obviously not good here. You look
terrible.”

“I haven’t slept or eaten. I screwed up so bad it’s the only thing I can think about. I even took a
sick day today and it’s the first time in six years with the Park Service.”

Gray remained polite but dispassionate. “I’m sorry. I guess I must have done or said something
that caused you to be really upset, huh?”

“No. Well, yes. But not in the way you probably meant. You didn’t do anything wrong, Gray. It’s
all my issue—and that’s the problem.”

“Hi ya’ll!”

A chubby blonde girl about eighteen or nineteen interrupted them. She wore a plastic Indian
headband with a single feather sticking up in the back. Gray thought it one of the most politically
incorrect things a restaurant could ever have as an employee uniform. But, then again, this was
Pigeon Forge.

“Welcome to the Cherokee Inn. My name is Nikki and I’ll be your server today. Have ya’ll had a
chance to look at the menus?” She pointed to the two unopened laminated folders still standing

upright in a wire holder between the salt and pepper shakers.

“No ma’am—we need a couple of minutes, please,” Jacob answered.

“Just some iced tea for me. Unsweetened,” Gray said to her. He had already learned to make the
distinction when ordering tea or else it would arrive as way too sugary sweet.

“Please have some lunch, Gray. It’s on me.”

“Nah, you go ahead, but thanks. I’m not hungry.”

Jacob gave him a disappointed frown that made Gray think that he—Jacob—thought he had just
failed some important first test.

Gray couldn’t stand seeing Jacob look that way. He turned back to the server. “On second
thought, how about a BLT on wheat. You got that?”

“We sure do.”

“Hold the mayo, please.”

“Yes sir. And you?”

“I’ll have the same,” Jacob answered. “Keep the mayo, please. And make my tea sweet.”

“Coming right up, gentlemen.”

They stared into each other’s eyes seeking some glimpse or hint of what the other was thinking.

“I think you called this meeting,” Gray finally started.

“I really appreciate you coming. Listen—for starters—I am so sorry for leaving like I did. It was
the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Even dumber than climbing on icy river rocks.” He smiled and
hoped Gray would get the humor.

Gray returned the smile, albeit a polite one. “I guess that’s pretty dumb, huh?”

“Wait—I brought you something.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out Gray’s camera. The
one Jacob had plucked from the river when he carried Gray to safety.

“Why are you giving me this? It must be ruined.”

“Power it up.”

Gray pushed the power button and the camera lens opened as normally as it always did.

“I sealed it in a zip-lock bag full of uncooked rice and the rice drew all of the moisture from the
camera. Works for cell phones too.”

“Thanks. That’s a neat trick. Too bad I didn’t get the picture to send my folks.”

“Hopefully I can show you some even better photo places sometime.”

“Why don’t we get to the reason we’re here, Jacob?”

“I ran away Sunday morning because you scared the hell out of me.”

“How’s that?”

“What we did Saturday night—well, it was the best night of my life. I felt things I’d never felt
before. I said things I’d never said before. But when I woke up and saw you sleeping there, it was
like this big hammer hit me and said, ‘You told a man you loved him. You’re gay now and your
life is changed forever.’ I panicked and ran when instead, I should have waited for you to wake
up so we could talk about it. If I could do it over again, I would, Gray. I’m so sorry. I just want
you to know that everything I said to you was true. It wasn’t a lie. I think I do love you.”

Gray steeled his stare into Jacob’s and didn’t blink. “So if I’m hearing this right, what you’re
really saying is that I’m the first guy you’ve ever been with?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit. Why didn’t you just tell me that upfront? I not only wouldn’t have minded—it would have
made it even more special for me.”

“I’m sorry—I just assumed you wouldn’t want me if you knew. I was afraid with you coming
from Milwaukee and New York City and all, you wouldn’t want anything to do with some
closeted park ranger who lives like a hermit.”

“And you’re entirely in the closet, right? Not out to anyone?”

“No—I mean yes.” He looked confused. “Sorry—you asked a yes then a no question. I’m not out
to family or at work. Nobody except a couple of good friends who are a gay couple over in
Moorestown. They volunteer in a counseling service for police officers, firefighters, military
guys, and, I guess, rangers like me who are gay but afraid to come out.”

“First of all, I don’t have all that much experience myself. But I am out. Out at work, out to my
family, out to everyone who asks, although I don’t walk around carrying a rainbow flag.” He
paused and looked away for a moment. “Jacob, I appreciate how hard it is for you and I don’t
want to seem insensitive—but I don’t think I can handle another case of closet-itus. I went
through that once and got my heart broken.”

They were interrupted by Nikki bringing their iced teas. “One sweet,” she said to Jacob with a
smile. “And one for the sweet,” she said to Gray with a teasing wink. “Ya’ll’s sandwiches will be
out shortly.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Gray answered without taking his eyes off Jacob.

“Can you talk about it—how you got your heart broken?” Jacob shifted his body language

forward, moving both elbows to the top of the table.

“I’ll give you the real short and simple version. Before you, I’ve only been in love once. It was
with a guy at Juilliard who was out only to me. He promised me he would come out and we
would be together as openly gay partners as soon as we both graduated. But then, after he went
home to Texas for Christmas break and I went home to Wisconsin, I returned to school in
January and he didn’t.”

“That had to be really hard for you.”

“It was the worst time of my life. I never heard from him again. I felt betrayed, mislead, and more
alone than I’d ever felt. Sort of like how I felt Sunday morning.”

“But did you hear your own words? You said you’ve only been in love once before me. That
must mean you feel something for me.”

“I don’t sleep with people I don’t feel something for. I meant everything I said to you Saturday
night.”

“Then I don’t see the problem. I feel the same things for you, Gray. I won’t make the mistake of
leaving you again.”

“Here you go good lookins,” Nikki said, delivering their sandwiches. “One with mayo, one
without. And I threw in an extra big side of fries for you two to share. It’s on me.” She smiled
with an obvious invitation for either their interest or a large tip.

“Thanks a lot, Nikki. That’s real nice of you,” Gray said.

“Yeah, we appreciate it.” Jacob’s gaze remained fixed on Gray, however, and the
dismissal—however polite—did not go unnoticed.

“Okaaay. I’ll leave you guys to your conversation. Enjoy your meal.”

“So before we were interrupted,” Jacob said. “I was telling you I have some serious feelings for
you. I don’t want us to end.”

“You say that now, Jacob. But the problem with guys like you who are still in the closet is that
you want it both ways. When we’re together, you’re gay. When you’re anywhere else, with
anybody else, you’re straight. And the conflict between the two will tear away at your emotions
and your conscience until eventually, you’ll have to run away and escape again—just like you did
Sunday.”

“But I don’t want it that way, Gray. I want to come out. I don’t care what my family thinks
anymore. I love them but if they can’t handle it, that’s their problem. And I don’t care what Russ,
my boss, or the Park Service thinks either—besides, they can’t fire me for my sexual orientation.
And what’s the worst they can do to me? Make me work by myself like I’m already doing?”

Gray finally took a bite of his sandwich and stared at Jacob as he took his time chewing. He

swallowed and sipped his still unsweetened tea. “Jacob, I want to believe you. But I’ve heard it
before, seen it before. You’re on a see-saw that’s going to swing up and down depending on the
day and frankly, depending on how horny you are.”

Anger flashed through Jacob’s eyes. “Just who are you to know me better than I know myself?
Huh? I’m pouring my heart and my truth out to you and you’re just up on some gayer-than-thou
pedestal that is both judge and jury. I’m not your failed boyfriend from Juilliard and if you can’t
see that, then maybe you don’t deserve me.”

Gray put his sandwich back down on its plate. “You know what? Maybe you’re right. Let’s just
leave it at that.” He pushed his chair back and wiped his mouth with the paper napkin. “I’ll pay
for lunch on the way out.”

“Wait a minute—just wait a minute, please. I’m saying this all really badly and I’m sorry to fly
off the handle. But it’s only because I feel so strongly about you. I’m so ready for a relationship
with you, Gray. Please give me the benefit of the doubt and please give me a second chance. I
promise you will not regret it.”

“Right now, I don’t know what to believe. All I can tell you—again—is that I also meant
everything I said to you Saturday night. But I need to believe you’re serious about this.”

“I am, Gray. Just please tell me that we have a chance.”

Gray paused and saw the pleading expression on Jacob’s face, which seemed on the brink of
tears. Gray so wanted to kiss him. But he just couldn’t give in to his own weakness so easily.

“Tell you what, Jacob. Saturday is our Valentine’s Day show. I’m gonna leave a ticket for you at
the VIP window. You show up in public, ready to be the piano player’s boyfriend sitting in front
of four hundred people at the best table in the house—then maybe I’ll believe you really mean
what you’re saying.”

“You serious?”

“As a rock in the river.”

“Then leave me that ticket.”

“Be there by seven.”

Jacob watched Gray leave the restaurant after having taken exactly one bite from his BLT
sandwich. Jacob reached for his cell phone.

“Colby—it’s me… Yeah—he just left… Yep… It was nip and tuck there for a minute but he did
exactly what we wanted him to do and I won’t even need the ticket at your table. Now all I have
to do is convince his boss to buy into our plan.”

* * *

“That was Jacob,” Colby said to Kyle as he placed his cell phone back on the table.

“I could tell. I take it the lunch went well.” Kyle’s mouth was still half full with the bite he’d just
taken.

“I guess it went about as well as we hoped. But Gray told Jacob that he had a very bad experience
with a closeted guy who dumped him. I think Gray must be a little gun shy now.”

Kyle took a bite from the homemade buttermilk biscuit on his plate, followed by another large
chunk of dumpling from his fork. “Sorry—Ina’s chicken and dumplings are so good.” His words
came out garbled with his mouth full.

“Were you raised by wolves?”

Not shamed, Kyle swallowed hard, opened his mouth wide, and stuck out his tongue. “Okay, are
you happy now?

“Yes—thank you.” Colby couldn’t help smiling at his husband. Kyle was so cute when he acted
this way. “Okay, back to Gray. Knowing his past now and what Jacob did to him, who could
blame him for having doubts?”

“Yeah, I know. But I’m convinced Jacob is ready. He’s been preparing for this since he started
counseling with us.”

Colby appeared uncertain as he twirled the fork around his bowl. “Are we convinced enough to
go through with this devious plan of yours?”

“I’ll admit there’s a chance that Jacob will panic again at the last minute and chicken out. But if
he pulls it off, it’s going to be one of those golden moments they’ll remember for the rest of their
lives.”

“Hopefully together.”

“That’s the idea,” Kyle agreed. “Now do you mind if I shut up and eat?”

Chapter Eleven

Denise hung up the phone at her desk. She had just agreed to something that better judgment
suggested she shouldn’t have.

She took a few seconds contemplating the wall full of awards and photos opposite and facing her
desk. No, there weren’t any Country Music Association awards or Grammy’s among them,
although With You I Do had been nominated multiple times for both. Most of the pundits had
even predicted it would win the Academy Award for Best Song. But the Oscar that year went to
Stevie Wonder’s I Just Called To Say I Love You. Denise wasn’t bitter about it—she was beat out
by a hell of a good song. Had she lost to the theme from the also nominated Ghostbusters,
however, her anger would have been epic.

Truthfully, most of the plaques and trophies in the collection were of the suck-up, made-up
variety from publishers and record companies issued, at the time, to garner favor. But, she
thought wryly, Nashville has a very short attention span when it comes to
what-have-you-done-for-us-lately. In fact, the only recent award on this wall came from the
Gatlinburg/Pigeon Forge Convention and Visitors Bureau.

But, seeing the little wall of fame reminded her that she had parlayed a lot out of one huge hit
song and a few other minor ones. She had lived modestly and invested her earnings carefully.
Such discipline had paid off with a good, lasting career in a solid tourist area with a small but
passionately loyal fan base.

“I don’t have to tell you what a risk you just agreed to take on,” Lonnie said, sitting in the
wingback chair facing her desk.

“Then don’t.”

“But why, Dennie? I know you’re crazy about Gray—so am I. But creating this kind of spectacle
on your stage in front of who knows how many right-wing born again types? They may boo you
off the stage.”

“That’s the least of my worries.” She handed Lonnie a written phone message the office
receptionist had brought to her while she was on the phone with Jacob Kent.

He looked at it and shook his head in disbelief. “Lord Jesus—the National Telegraph?”

“I’m afraid yes. Looks like our ex-piano player apparently went to them—probably asking for
cash in exchange for his story—and now they want to interview me.”

“That goddamn traitor! After all you did for him I can’t believe J.D. would betray you like this.
How many times did I tell you to keep your dressing room door locked?”

“How many times are you going to remind me of that?”

“Sorry—I’m just madder than a wet hen right now. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t intend to return the Telegraph’s phone call.”

“And knowing this, you’re still going to do this thing for Gray and his ranger friend?”

“Yep—I made a promise to Jacob and I intend to keep it. I will not allow some sleazy tabloid or
J.D.’s greed and bigotry to stop me from helping those two be together. You should have heard
that boy just now. He is head over heels in love with Gray.”

“You’re thinking with your heart and not your head.”

“Isn’t that what Valentine’s Day is supposed to be all about?”

“Sweetheart, you know how much I love you and you also know I will fight tooth and nail to
defend you. But please don’t give the Telegraph more fuel to make this story even more
sensationalized. If people believe what J.D. thinks he saw, it could be the end of your career.”

“Lon, they’re probably going to write this story whether I do the surprise for Gray or not. But
keep in mind they won’t have pictures of what J.D. saw for all of five seconds. If it comes to it
I’ll hire lawyers and a big PR firm and we’ll shoot back with both barrels. But we knew this day
might come eventually.”

“But we’re not going to go down without a fight.”

“You betcha. Especially because of everyone here who counts on me for a job.”

“Listen to you,” Lonnie said, reaching to cover Denise’s hand with his. “The world may come
crashing down and yet you’re thinking about the team members.”

“Worst case, you and I will survive this, but they have families to feed. I am so shocked and
disappointed that J.D. also betrayed them. These people were his friends.”

“Do you really think we can survive this or are you just being tough and strong so I won’t worry
myself to death?”

“Let me put it this way. The National Telegraph has no idea who they’re messing with. I’ll own
that damn rag by the time this is all over.”

Chapter Twelve

How stupid could I be?

It was Saturday afternoon—just a few hours before the Valentine’s show—and it suddenly hit
Gray that he’d made a huge mistake. He’d been so wrapped up in rehearsing on top of so many
thoughts about Jacob, he’d forgotten that the deputy—Kyle—and his partner Colby were also
bringing a friend. Ostensibly a blind date whose name he didn’t know.

I should have at least asked.

If the guy looked anything like the hunky blond deputy, he would at least be easy on the eyes.
But if intelligence, heart, character, and most of all—honesty—were also attached, then who
knows what’s possible? At least maybe a friend of this openly gay couple would be out and ready
to buy into what a serious relationship entails—something he was not convinced Jacob was ready
for.

But that’s the rub—and my stupid mistake.

In the emotional heat of his lunch meeting with Jacob, Gray had thrown down the gauntlet and
issued the challenge. If Jacob was serious about a relationship, then he needed to show up in
public as Gray’s date and, in effect, out himself.

Yes, maybe it had been haughty, demanding, and even unfair of him. But all Gray wanted was for
Jacob to prove he was serious. Gray had absolutely no intentions of doing anything that might
embarrass or make Jacob feel uncomfortable in public. No hand holding, no kisses, not even long
adoring gazes across the table. As far as he was concerned, people could think they were
brothers.

Truth be told, Gray was as much uncomfortable with that in public as Jacob. Not because he was
shy or ashamed, but because it would be unprofessional and inappropriate in Denise’s theater. It
would simply be bad business to be overtly gay in front of the mostly very conservative
audiences who attended the shows, her minority of gay fans notwithstanding.

Now he was faced with an embarrassing dilemma. He had reserved the best two tables in the
house—center stage, front row—for his respective guests and he could not have dinner with both.

What to do?

I don’t have a choice. I’ll be polite and a good host to Kyle and his partner and whoever their
friend is. But Jacob will be my date. Let’s admit it—that’s where my heart wants to be. It might
offend Kyle, Colby, and their friend but what other choice do I have if I’m honest?

But then, there’s a possibility that Jacob won’t even show. Maybe he’s scared to death someone
he knows will recognize him out on a date with a man. So maybe there is no problem at all.
Maybe Jacob will solve it just by being a no-show.

I sure hope I’m wrong. I sure hope he shows.

Chapter Thirteen

Gray peeked again through the curtain that led to the round center stage in the middle of the
theater. He still marveled at the engineering magic that allowed the large circle to turn during the
show so that everyone in the house could have a good seat. It just seemed that logically, its belts
and cables should eventually get all twisted. But the only engineering feat on his mind at the
moment was how to get himself out of the minefield he had manufactured for himself.

The crowd was always an early one. He’d learned that the locals actually thought of being
on-time as late. If church starts at ten, be in your pew by nine forty-five. And if dinner starts at
seven, better to be there by six-thirty.

Tonight’s audience was no exception. And, it was a complete sell-out. Gray had offered to pay
for both tables he had reserved but Denise would not hear of it. Now, looking at the two best
tables in the house—the ones directly in front of the front steps when the stage wasn’t
moving—remained empty.

Finally, he spotted one of the ushers leading two tall men down the steps at the bottom of the
amphitheater. He recognized the burly blond deputy now dressed in a sharp navy jacket and tie.
Beside him, wearing a charcoal gray suit, was a dark-haired man of equal size with striking,
maybe Mediterranean or even Native American complexion and facial features. They made a
very handsome couple, he thought. But they were alone so maybe their friend was a no-show.

That would solve the first problem.

He parted the curtain and, already wearing his nightly stage attire of black jeans and a simple
v-neck black tee, walked the fifty feet or so to greet them.

“Welcome, gentlemen!” He first offered his hand to the man he had not met. “You must be
Colby. I’m Gray Wagner.”

“It’s a pleasure, Gray. Thanks for inviting us tonight. I’m actually a fan of Miss Dailey so this is
a real treat.”

“I’ll be sure and tell her that. And welcome, Kyle. Real nice to see you again under better
circumstances.”

Gray extended his hand but Kyle refused it, instead pulling Gray into a tight, affectionate hug.
“That’s a Valentine’s Day hug,” he said with a grin as he released him. “You look terrific. Have
you put on a few pounds?”

“I needed to put on a few. They feed me well around here and I’ve been working out some.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

“Thanks, Kyle. You guys want to have a seat?” Gray asked, pulling out a chair for himself.

“Someone will be by in just a sec to take your drink order.”

“Sounds good,” Colby said, sitting down. “Although I’m the designated driver tonight. When
you’re married to a deputy sheriff, one of us always has to make the sacrifice so it’s my turn
tonight and I get exactly one glass of wine.”

“I’m right there with you,” Gray agreed. “No alcohol for me before the show. So, I thought that
you mentioned you have a friend who might also join us?”

“He’s meeting us here. He actually lives pretty close by so it was easier for him to just come on
his own.” Kyle looked at his watch. “In fact, he should have been here by now. He’s usually early
for most things.”

At that moment Gray looked up and saw the usher leading Jacob down the several tiered levels of
the theater.

“Oh, I see him coming now,” Colby pointed and then grinned awaiting Gray’s reaction.

“Wait a minute. That’s my other guest. I was just about to explain how I kind of screwed up.”

“You didn’t screw up anything, buddy. We kind of set you up,” Kyle clasped his hand on Gray’s
shoulder and leaned close to his ear. “Just go along with this and you’ll see how much you mean
to Jacob.”

* * *

They were almost finished with the show and Gray was playing and performing on autopilot. His
mind raced with both elation yet confusion at what had occurred earlier. Gray had been taken
aback—pleasantly—when, upon arrival, Jacob presented him with a single red rose and kissed
his cheek—in front of anyone who cared to watch.

And there were plenty of people watching. God, he looked so handsome in that black tuxedo with
the classic black bowtie and a red rose boutonnière in his lapel. His was the only tuxedo in the
place and Gray could feel hundreds of eyes on the man sitting at the best table in the house. They
surely thought he must be some kind of movie star or very dashing celebrity. His good looks
certainly merited the speculation.

Colby and Kyle had insisted that Gray and Jacob dine alone at the table Gray had reserved
immediately next to theirs. Dinner with Jacob had been as romantic as it gets. Candlelight,
champagne—and yes, he even allowed himself one glass in order to share Jacob’s Happy
Valentine’s Day toast. If before Gray had doubts and worries about Jacob’s willingness to come
out, they were now evaporated as nothing more than champagne bubbles escaping their flute.

He felt a sense of anticipation for something yet to happen, only he didn’t quite know what for.
He barely even remembered the four-song medley duet with Denise that had resulted in a
standing ovation, with Jacob, Kyle, and Colby the first audience members on their feet.

Gray was jolted from his thoughts by the sense that someone had just asked him a question.

“Hello, over there. You still with us, darlin’?” Denise drawled with a teasing voice.

“I was just spellbound by your last song, Miss Dailey,” he said into his microphone with the dry,
deadpan sidekick voice he had honed to perfection. It resulted in laughter throughout the house.

“Well I was just saying that I got me the most talented and definitely the best looking piano
player and singing partner in the business. Am I right, ya’ll?” she called to the audience, using
the over-the-top country drawl she only used on stage. “Who needs George Jones when I got
Gray Wagner?”

The audience cheered loudly and through the clamor, Gray could also hear the whistles and
whoops of what must have been Denise’s loyal gay contingent. He felt himself blushing. Where
is she going with this? He noticed the center of the rotating stage had stopped directly in front of
his guests’ tables and that Jacob had moved over to sit with Colby and Kyle.

“Now, ya’ll who have been here before know that I always take time during the show to
recognize special guests. Those being the ones who are celebrating anniversaries and birthdays
and engagements. But my favorite nights are when we have heroes in the audience and tonight
we lucked out and got us two of ‘em.”

Gray knew something was up when a spotlight centered on Jacob, Kyle, and Colby’s table.

“On a cold, snowy day back in January, my sweet man Gray here was driving down all the way
from Milwaukee, Wisconsin just to play piano for little ‘ole me. And then, when he was almost
here, disaster struck. His car suddenly exploded into flames.”

The audience responded with gasps and oh-my’s.

“In only seconds, a big, tall, and handsome Moore County deputy sheriff arrived on the scene and
single handedly rescued our Gray from his burning vehicle. And then, after making sure he was
okay, that deputy went way out of his way—and his county—to personally deliver Gray to me all
safe and sound, thank the Lord. That deputy is a true hero and an outstanding pillar of his
profession. Everyone please say thank you to Moorestown’s own Deputy Kyle McCoy!”

The audience erupted into loud cheers as Kyle shyly half rose from his seat and waved before
quickly sitting back down. Gray shook his head and laughed at the lie Denise had told; but it was
classic Denise being Denise while on stage. And besides, this was theater.

“Now to our second hero. And this story is really scary, darlin’s. A couple weeks ago our cutie
pie Gray here decided to go for a little hike in the snow way up on the mountain. Now him being
a Northerner and all, he don’t know much about mountains. Ain’t that right, honey?”

“You’re always right, Miss Dailey.” The audience laughed again. What the hell is she doing?

“Anyhow, my sweet baby went and fell smack dab in the middle of the Little Pigeon River, hit
his head on a rock, and passed out there in the middle of the icy rapids.”

The audience gasped in unison.

“But then, like a knight in shining armor, comes the best doggone ranger the National Park
Service ever hired. He swept Gray up in his strong arms, carried him over a mile in foot-deep
snow and sub-zero temperatures, and then delivered him to warmth and safety. My darlin’s,” she
paused to dramatically wipe her nonexistent tears, “this hero saved our Gray’s life. Everyone,
meet and say thank you to Ranger Jacob Kent!”

Roars of applause and cheers were sustained for at least a full minute. Jacob looked over his
shoulder and waved but didn’t stand. To Gray, he seemed very uncomfortable as his eyes darted
nervously over to Colby and Kyle for what—reassurance?

Gray then became worried as Jacob pulled at his collar as though he were trying to catch his
breath and then gulped the remaining champagne in his glass. This didn’t look good. Oh, shit.
You’ve done so well up to now, baby. Don’t bolt and run! Just stick with me, Jacob.

“Now,” Denise continued. “What I usually do at this point is ask our guests of honor to request a
song that’s special to them. Gray here plays it and I sing it. But tonight we’re going to do things a
little different. Let me ask ya’ll a question. Do you believe in love?”

“Yes!” shouted the crowd.

“Well of course you do. And ya’ll know how much I believe in love. And I also think that it don’t
matter who it’s between. If it’s love, it’s love and I devoutly believe that Jesus and God don’t
judge nobody who is just living what’s truly in their blessed hearts—especially on Valentine’s
Day. Do ya’ll agree?”

“Yes!”

“Gray, honey—get up from that piano and come over here.”

Gray hesitated a second, then slowly stood with shaky legs.

Oh shit—what is she doing?

“Come on, now. Let everybody see that cute little butt of yours.”

The audience laughed with a few whistles and catcalls thrown in as Gray made his way to center
stage.

“Gray, there’s somebody here who has something he wants to say to you. And while he does, I’m
gonna head over to the piano to play and sing ya’ll the song that your man here has requested.
Everyone, please welcome Ranger Jacob Kent to the stage.”

Gray’s mouth opened in disbelief as Jacob, now smiling a lot more confidently, walked up the
steps and onto the stage. Denise waited for him, kissed his cheek, and then handed him her
microphone.

Jacob stood in front of Gray and simply smiled for a few seconds before he brought the

microphone closer to his mouth. “Gray, we have a little private joke between us that one of us is
dumber than a rock.” He turned to the audience. “I won’t tell you which one of us it is.”

As the laughter faded, he returned to Gray and met his eyes intently. “But you know what it
means. If you hadn’t knocked your head on one, we never would have met. You know those
commercials for Chevy trucks that say ‘like a rock’?”

“Yeah,” Gray said weakly.

“Well with you and me, we’re not talking trucks. I’m saying my feelings for you are as solid as a
rock and I’ll never give you reason to doubt that again.”

He pulled a small box from his pocket and opened it. “This here is a little chain I hope you’ll
wear.” He held it up for the audience. “Mounted to it is a very tiny river rock that is shaped like a
perfect little heart. I picked it up from the exact spot where I found you, Gray. And I’d like you to
wear it as a symbol of what I hope we can one day grow into the size of a boulder. Will you
accept it, Gray? Will you be my Valentine?”

Gray couldn’t restrain his tears. His mind screamed with a cacophony of emotions that begged
him to leap into the arms of this amazing man who was so no longer in the closet.

“Yes,” Gray managed. “I’d love to be your Valentine.”

Jacob slipped the necklace around Gray’s neck, leaned forward and softly kissed his lips.

With his eyes closed, at first all Gray heard was silence. He felt a tinge of nausea building in the
pit of his stomach at the enormous mistake they must have just made. Then from somewhere a
single pair of hands began to clap. Then another and another until the entire audience erupted into
cheers.

Jacob stepped back, took Gray’s hand in his and then lifted them in appreciation to the audience.

As the applause began to lighten, Jacob released Gray’s hand and lifted his own up to the
audience, asking for quiet. His other hand still held the microphone. The room became instantly
silent.

He turned again to Gray. “Gray, there’s a special place where I began to fall in love with you.
You know where it is. I wish I could share it with everyone here but I can’t and won’t because
it’s reserved just for you and me. It’s somewhere only we know.”

The piano began an introduction and Denise’s voice started.

I walked across an empty land.

I knew the pathway like the back of my hand.

Lonely earth was beneath my feet.

Sat by the river but I wasn’t complete…

Gray glanced at her in surprise. Either she or Jacob had changed the lyrics to this old Keane song,
now made current again from the TV show Glee. Gray had sung it often at the piano bar in
Milwaukee.

I came across a fallen man

I felt his beauty looking back at me.

Is this the place where we will love?

Is this the place that we’ve been dreaming of?

To his additional surprise, it was not Denise’s regular country voice. She sang it as though on a
Broadway stage with a rich, deep, almost masculine tenor and enunciation that revealed no trace
of her usual female alto and twang.

Or was this her real voice, her real accent?

And if you have a lifetime why don’t we go…

Talk about it somewhere only we know?

This could be the start of everything.

So why don’t we go

Somewhere only we know?

This could be the start of everything

So why don’t we go

Somewhere only we know?

As the song ended and the crowd again showed its approval, Gray noticed a tear falling down
Jacob’s cheek. He reached, gently captured it with his finger, and touched it to his lips. They
smiled—almost giggled—and kissed again.

Gray glanced at Denise and nearly laughed at seeing so much stage mascara running down her
face. Behind her, standing next to the stage entrance, Lonnie saluted with his right hand while
waving with the other.

Denise smiled at Gray and winked.

He loved her for the huge risk she had taken with her audience. Loved her for her kind, generous,
bigger-than-life heart. Loved her for saving him when he’d been on the brink of giving up. He
just loved her.

He turned back to Jacob and kissed him one more time before their moment had to end. The show
must go on and Denise still had all her encores to perform.

But just for another indulgent second, Gray immersed himself in Jacob’s blue eyes and in them,
saw his own heart reflected.

This was the start of everything. Somewhere only he and Jacob could know.

Chapter Fourteen

It had cost the man five hundred bucks to convince the stupid hillbilly couple to exchange their
table on the lowest tier of seats in the theater for the one he’d bought located up in the nosebleed
section. But despite the odd looks he got by dining alone on Valentine’s Day, it positioned him
exactly where he wanted to be once the show began.

The red gift box he’d sat on the table appeared to be a Valentine’s gift for some no-show date. Or
at least that’s what he wanted people to think. What they couldn’t see was the small hole in the
box on the side facing the stage. Nor could they see the wireless remote he held in his pocket.

It had been one of the corniest, most boring shows he’d ever seen in over twenty years of going
to theaters good and bad in Vegas, New York, L.A., even Chicago.

But admittedly, he’d never met a country song—or a country artist—that he liked. It took all his
control not to burst out laughing when the giant American flag was lowered above the stage and
with her hand over her heart, Miss Dailey sang I’m Proud To Be An American. What a bunch of
contrived patriotic shit! As though anybody actually respects that flag anymore.

But there was one bright spot out of this entire wasted evening. He’d expected to just get a bunch
of boring pictures of some over-the-hill country music queen with a huge secret. It instead turned
to gold when she outed her piano player and his gay Barney Ranger friend right in front of four
hundred witnesses.

With pictures of two men kissing each other while standing on her stage, everything else he
intended to write would suddenly become believable—even if all he had for evidence was the
paid-for word of some dumbass former piano player with a grudge. What was his name? J.P. or
J.W. or J.D. or something like that? He had no idea why southern mothers named their boys
initials instead of words. Probably because that’s all they could spell—or pronounce between
ugly buck teeth.

The woman was now singing her third or fourth self-indulgent encore. Jerome Klein sat back,
took a sip from the fourth glass of very bad house bourbon he’d ordered, and smiled with
satisfaction through yellow tobacco-stained teeth.

“Oh, Miss Dailey,” he said under his breath. “I’m gonna have such fun destroying you.”

About the Author

William Neale spent many years as a successful corporate communications executive, ad man,
and PR spin doctor. Knowing how to “make up the truth” prepared him well for his second career
as a writer of m/m romance fiction.

A William Neale novel invites you to a fantasy—to a place where you can dream and hope that
indeed, happily-ever-after can and does exist. And, with every ounce of sugar comes an equal
portion of cayenne. What’s a good love story without the hot, passionate moments that sizzle on
the page?

Those who seek angst-ridden life stories probably won’t find them in a William Neale book.
“That’s okay,” says Neale. “Not everyone wants or appreciates a feel-good story. As for me,
reading has always been a wonderful escape from reality. Even as a child, I loved the fantasy of
becoming Peter Pan or Huck Finn or one of the Hardy Boys.”

William grew up in the U.S. South, has lived in several Midwestern cities, and now makes his
home in Cleveland, Ohio with his partner of over a decade and their two soft-coated wheaten
terriers.

He welcomes and appreciates comments and suggestions from readers and promises to respond to
all. Write him and register for news about upcoming books at his website, WilliamNeale.com.

Trademarks Acknowledgment

The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks
mentioned in this work of fiction:

Beemer (BMW): BMW of North America LLC

Chevy: General Motors

Country Music Association: Country Music Association

CVS Pharmacy: CVS Caremark

Dollywood: The Dollywood Company, composed of Herschend Family Entertainment
Corporation and Dolly Parton Productions, Inc.

Dukes of Hazard: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc

Facebook: Facebook, Inc.

Ford Explorer: Ford Motor Corporation

Ford Taurus: Ford Motor Corporation

Ghostbusters: Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc

Glee: Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation

Grammy: National Academy of Recording Arts & Sciences, Inc.

Honda Accord: The Honda Motor Company

iPod: Apple, Inc.

Ivory Soap: Proctor & Gamble Company

Juilliard: The Juilliard School

Ken (doll): Mattel, Inc.

K-Y: Johnson & Johnson

Milwaukee Brewers: Milwaukee Brewers Baseball Club Milwaukee Brewers Holdings LLC

Mr. Coffee: Sunbeam Products, Inc.

Oscar (Academy Award): Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences

RCA Records: Sony Music Entertainment

Risky Business: Warner Bros. Pictures

Ski-doo: Bombardier Recreational Products Inc.

Steinway: Steinway, Inc.

Walmart: Wal-Mart Stores, Inc.

MLR PRESS AUTHORS

Featuring a roll call of some of the best writers of gay erotica and mysteries today!
Derek Adams
Z. Allora
Maura Anderson
Simone Anderson
Victor J. Banis
Laura Baumbach
Helen Beattie
Ally Blue
J.P. Bowie
Barry Brennessel
Nowell Briscoe
Jade Buchanan
James Buchanan
TA Chase
Charlie Cochrane
Karenna Colcroft
Michael G. Cornelius
William Cooper
Jamie Craig
Ethan Day
Diana DeRicci
Vivien Dean
Taylor V. Donovan
Theo Fenraven
S.J. Frost
Kimberly Gardner
Michael Gouda
Kaje Harper
Jan Irving
David Juhren
Thomas Kearnes
Kiernan Kelly
K-lee Klein
Geoffrey Knight
Christopher Koehler
Matthew Lang
J.L. Langley
Vincent Lardo
Anna Lee
Elizabeth Lister
Clare London
William Maltese
Z.A. Maxfield
Timothy McGivney

Tere Michaels
AKM Miles
Reiko Morgan
Jet Mykles
William Neale
Cherie Noel
Willa Okati
Brynn Paulin
Erica Pike
Neil S. Plakcy
Rick R. Reed
A.M. Riley
AJ Rose
George Seaton
Riley Shane
Jardonn Smith
DH Starr
Richard Stevenson
Liz Strange
Marshall Thornton
Lex Valentine
Haley Walsh
Mia Watts
Missy Welsh
Stevie Woods
Ian Young
Lance Zarimba
Mark Zubro

Check out titles, both available and forthcoming, at

www.mlrpress.com

GLBT RESOURCES

THE TREVOR PROJECT
The Trevor Project operates the only nationwide, around-the-clock crisis and suicide prevention
helpline for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning youth. Every day, The Trevor
Project saves lives though its free and confidential helpline, its website and its educational
services. If you or a friend are feeling lost, alone, confused or in crisis, please call The Trevor
Helpline. You’ll be able to speak confidentially with a trained counselor 24/7.
The Trevor Helpline: 866-488-7386
On the Web: http://www.thetrevorproject.org/

THE GAY MEN’S DOMESTIC VIOLENCE PROJECT
Founded in 1994, The Gay Men’s Domestic Violence Project is a grassroots, non-profit
organization founded by a gay male survivor of domestic violence and developed through the
strength, contributions and participation of the community. The Gay Men’s Domestic Violence
Project supports victims and survivors through education, advocacy and direct services.
Understanding that the serious public health issue of domestic violence is not gender specific, we
serve men in relationships with men, regardless of how they identify, and stand ready to assist
them in navigating through abusive relationships.
GMDVP Helpline: 800.832.1901
On the Web: http://gmdvp.org/

THE GAY & LESBIAN ALLIANCE AGAINST DEFAMATION/GLAAD EN ESPAÑOL
The Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (glaad) is dedicated to promoting and ensuring
fair, accurate and inclusive representation of people and events in the media as a means of
eliminating homophobia and discrimination based on gender identity and sexual orientation.
On the Web: http://www.glaad.org/
glaad en español: http://www.glaad.org/espanol/bienvenido.php

SERVICEMEMBERS LEGAL DEFENSE NETWORK
Servicemembers Legal Defense Network is a nonpartisan, nonprofit, legal services, watchdog
and policy organization dedicated to ending discrimination against and harassment of military
personnel affected by “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” (dadt).The sldn provides free, confidential legal
services to all those impacted by dadt and related discrimination. Since 1993, its inhouse legal
team has responded to more than 9,000 requests for assistance. In Congress, it leads the fight to
repeal dadt and replace it with a law that ensures equal treatment for every servicemember,
regardless of sexual orientation. In the courts, it works to challenge the constitutionality of dadt.
sldn Call: 800-538-7418
PO Box 65301 or (202) 328-FAIR
Washington DC 20035-5301 e-mail: sldn@sldn.org
On the Web: http://sldn.org/

THE GLBT NATIONAL HELP CENTER
The glbt National Help Center is a nonprofit, tax-exempt organization that is dedicated to
meeting the needs of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender community and those questioning
their sexual orientation and gender identity. It is an outgrowth of the Gay & Lesbian National
Hotline, which began in 1996 and now is a primary program of The glbt National Help Center. It

offers several different programs including two national hotlines that help members of the glbt
community talk about the important issues that they are facing in their lives. It helps end the
isolation that many people feel, by providing a safe environment on the phone or via the internet
to discuss issues that people can’t talk about anywhere else. The glbt National Help Center also
helps other organizations build the infrastructure they need to provide strong support to our
community at the local level.
National Hotline: 1-888-THE-GLNH (1-888-843-4564)
National Youth Talkline 1-800-246-PRIDE (1-800-246-7743)
On the Web: http://www.glnh.org/
e-mail: info@glbtnationalhelpcenter.org

If you’re a GLBT and questioning student heading off to university, you should know that there
are resources on campus for you. Here’s just a sample:
GLBT Scholarship Resources
http://www.hrc.org/resources/entry/tell-us-about-an-lgbt-scholarship
Syracuse University
http://lgbt.syr.edu/
Texas A&M
http://glbt.tamu.edu/
Tulane University
http://tulane.edu/studentaffairs/oma/lgbt/index.cfm
University of Alaska
http://www.uaf.edu/woodcenter/leadership/organizations/active/index.xml?id=61
University of California, Davis
http://lgbtrc.ucdavis.edu/
University of California, San Francisco
http://lgbt.ucsf.edu/
University of Colorado
http://www.colorado.edu/GLBTQRC/
University of Florida
http://www.multicultural.ufl.edu/lgbt/
University of Hawaiÿi, M

ānoa

http://manoa.hawaii.edu/lgbt/
University of Utah
http://www.sa.utah.edu/lgbt/
University of Virginia
http://www.virginia.edu/deanofstudents/lgbt/
Vanderbilt University
http://www.vanderbilt.edu/lgbtqi/

Document Outline

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Author
Trademarks Acknowledgment

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