Chapter 11

GARVIN TRIED not to think too much about his growing feelings for William. There was no need to get too carried away. William was only staying for a few weeks, and it didn't matter how Garvin felt or how much his heart seemed to be invested. He needed to keep some sort of distance or he was going to fall to pieces once William returned to LA and his regular life, leaving Garvin alone once more.

He had been fine for the past two years living out in the bush. There were people around, but Garvin had been able to choose how he interacted with them, and when he felt like being hermity, he simply stayed in his cabin or worked on the property getting ready for winter. There was never a shortage of chores to do, so that kept him busy, as did his teaching. But with William here, things had changed. He found he liked having someone around, and he felt more social and wanted to get out and do things with others. But pretty soon he was going to be alone again. No matter how he felt about William or what he wanted, soon enough William would leave, and there was nothing he could do about it.

It had taken some time after John's death for him to learn that the world didn't give a crap about what he wanted. John had been taken from him, and there was nothing he could have done to change it. Garvin's world as he knew it had changed completely, and yet everything else went on. It was shitty, but the way of things. Just like William was going to leave because he had to return to his work and his life, and there wasn't shit that Garvin could do to change that. It seemed the best course of action was to simply pull away and keep some distance.

"You're thinking way too much," William said as he came into the kitchen. He filled his glass, drank more water, and then filled it again. William set the glass on the counter before slipping his arms around Garvin's waist. He didn't say anything more, and Garvin tensed at first, but William was warm, and no matter what he'd told himself, Garvin relaxed into the touch. Part of him rebuked himself for it, while the bigger piece figured he was being stupid and told him to enjoy what he had while William was here. He put down the knife he'd been using to cut potatoes and leaned back. "I could smell the smoke and hoped you weren't short-circuiting something."

"Very funny," Garvin said, grateful that William didn't press him. Sometimes he simply needed to be alone with his mind as he worked things out. "I have a few steaks that I thought we'd have, and I'm going to make mashed potatoes. An old-fashioned meat-and-potatoes dinner."

William squeezed him a little closer. "I haven't had one of those in a long time. You know me, I have to eat very carefully in order to stay working, but up here I can eat just about anything and still keep the weight off." He nipped at Garvin's ear. "My mom used to cook this way for us when we were kids."

"Mine too. The only thing was that my mother used the instant kind, and I hated those. It wasn't until I was an adult that I had real ones, and then there was no going back." He continued cutting the potatoes into pieces and adding them to the pot on the stove. "I have some veggies in the freezer. It's the best we can do out here."

William chuckled. "I noticed that there wasn't any lettuce or anything fresh on the menu at the trading post either."

"Well, yeah. If you go to Anchorage, you can get shipped-in veggies and fruit. But a tomato will cost you three bucks and a head of lettuce at least two. Everything fresh is shipped in, and by the time we get it up here, there isn't much left of it. I have a couple freezers in the pantry that I use to put things up from the garden. I also have lockers outside that I can store things in. But mostly it's canned and preserved everything this time of year." He opened the freezer and clunked a huge bag of mixed vegetables onto the counter. Then he took out what he wanted for the two of them and put the rest back.

"Costco?" William asked.

"Is there anything else? Whenever Enrique heads to Costco, he usually takes orders for the rest of us, especially this time of year." He finished getting everything ready and got the potatoes on the stove. Then he pulled the steaks out of the refrigerator to season. He was going to need to use the broiler in the oven because there was no other option, as cold as it was outside.

William went around and sat at one of the stools. "I don't cook much back home."

"Then how do you eat the way you need to?" Garvin asked. "I know you were never much of a cook, and I wasn't either. John did a lot of that sort of thing. He loved it. But out here, I've had to learn."

"I remember that. Usually back home I have someone come in every few weeks to cook for me, and I order salads and things to have delivered. I'm often so busy that there isn't time to do much more than heat something up."

"I suppose." In LA, their lives had been about rushing and pressure. But up here, it was less stressed and more concerned with what was really important. Nature provided all the pressure and tension that Garvin needed. His first winter up here had put a lot of things into perspective.

"I can already feel the difference here. It's about survival."

Garvin chuckled. "To a degree, I suppose. But it's not just that. We still have modern conveniences. They just take a different form sometimes. We're closer to nature here. We live with it rather than trying to bend it to our needs." In the city, the river ran through a concrete channel, while up here, rivers ran wild. "Come on. You can help me with dinner." He passed William the plate of steaks.

What hit him pretty hard was how good it felt to do things together. That was something he had forgotten. He and John used to do a lot together, just simple things. William came around, and Garvin talked him through what to do. Occasionally they bumped elbows or touched hips as they worked, and Garvin smiled. He'd missed that sort of togetherness. For a second he expected the old longings and wishes to come racing back, but they didn't. What took their place was bone-deep contentment, something so lost to him he barely recognized it.

"WHAT ARE you doing?" William mumbled the following morning as Garvin tried to slip out of bed. The air was cold, and he pulled his robe around his bare skin and stepped directly into his slippers. " It's Sunday."

Garvin snickered to himself. "And we need to go to church."

William sat up as if he'd had a shock, the covers pooling around his waist. "What are you, my mother?"

Damn, that was a sight, and Garvin was so tempted to push William back onto the bedding. But after their acrobatics the night before, he wondered if William might be a little sore. "I'm kidding. I'm going to stoke up the fire and get us something to eat. Then we're going to Devon's class at the library." He shared a kiss and then hurried to the other room, where he built up the fire, thankful there were still embers left from last night. They dressed and had breakfast before getting ready to go.

The sun was bright, reflecting off the ice and snow as they rode around the lake to the library on the other side. Garvin parked the snowmobile next to the others, and they went inside and hung up their outer gear.

Garvin paid for the class and led William through to the community room, where they helped set up the easels and supplies. Most of the winter resident families were represented in one way or another. The classes had started out as a way for Devon to teach the kids of the area during the summer, but over time they had morphed into a chance for everyone to learn from Devon's amazing talent. Not only was he an incredible and famous artist, he was also a great teacher who had a way of explaining what they were seeing in a way that made it easier to translate it to the canvas.

"Is everyone ready for something new?" Devon walked through the small grove of easels with canvases already placed. "We've been working on the view outside our window here for quite a while, and we've painted it in many seasons, but up until now, we haven't done winter, mainly because most of us think of it as a lack of color. Lots of white on white." He turned. "But there really isn't any white out there. Look at the ice. It's not white, but very light gray with touches of shadow, light and dark. There are blues and grays, even touches of red and brown from the leaves that have mixed in."

Garvin smiled over at William, who had leaned forward, his eyes shining with excitement .

"There are even blues from the sky tinting the snow, and of course the deep grays and blacks from the bare trees and conifers. Every color of the rainbow is out there, and yet at first glance we see only a blanket of snow. So what we're going to do is paint the lake, like we have before, but I want you to use white sparingly. Let the other colors you see come forward. Then, at the end, we can add touches of mixed white." Devon demonstrated the concept he was explaining with a simple painting of part of the far side of the lake. He brought it up close.

"I never saw it that way before," William said as he stood there while Garvin began. Devon finished his demonstration and then came to help William get started. Most people in the class had worked with Devon before, so they were familiar with the medium and began their work.

"It's one of the beautiful things about working with paint. We bring out what we see, so the interesting thing is that you and Garvin can look at the exact same point and each see something different. A photograph snaps an image, but with painting, you can convey not just a mood, but an emotion." Devon helped William find his bearings before wandering around to check on everyone and returning to the front.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Garvin asked as he tried to make the bare trees not look weird.

"This is great." William seemed very tentative. Devon continued talking from the front, demonstrating techniques before walking through to offer encouragement and suggestions. None of them were going to be serious artists. Garvin was certain that his paintings would someday, long after he was dead, end up in a thrift store at a buck each or something. But that didn't matter. He was having a good time, especially watching William, who held his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated.

"Remember that this is a learning exercise. Don't worry about getting everything perfect. Just paint what you see and feel. The rest will come." Devon continued helping them all through the two-hour lesson. Garvin got much less done than he usually did because his attention kept being drawn to William.

"Mine is awful," William whispered before he began cleaning the brushes and putting away the paint. "It was fun, though."

"Art has a way of changing the way you look at the world," Devon said as he came over to help get things put away. "Once you start to see the colors that make up the world around you, it changes the way you see everything."

William scratched the back of his head. "I don't get it. I mean, the snow is the snow, and…."

Devon smiled. "Come here." He led William up to the windows, and Garvin followed. "Look at the sky. Now let your gaze lower to the surface of the lake. See how the blue gets picked up and reflected back?" William nodded. "Now look at the edges of the lake, near the trees. The snow is darker, even though it's not in shadow. Light plays off itself and mixes together. In a way, it connects the trees, the lake, and the sky all together. Once you see that, you know that everything is connected."

"Wow, I never understood…."

"It's the way we see things. Light is more dynamic and complex than we think it is. It mixes together so that snow isn't just white and the sky isn't just blue. Nothing is that static or flat. Everything gets mixed together and affected by everything else." He smiled.

"Thank you. Today was fun," William said. "I don't think I'm ever going to make an artist, but it was amazing to try something new."

"Then the day was a success," Devon said.

Garvin left the two of them to talk while he finished cleaning up their supplies and set their work to dry. Once he was done, they got their gear back on, and Garvin followed Devon over to the trading post. They had a big Sunday lunch. Enrique usually roasted something special, and this week it was turkey. The entire place smelled like his grandmother's kitchen from when he was a kid. Nearly all the tables were full. Garvin joined some friends, leaving a space for William as he wandered through the post, looking at the small works hanging on the walls.

Devon joined him, probably explaining each one.

"It looks like they seem to have hit it off," Enrique said.

"God, I hope so," Garvin said .

Enrique nodded. "You want him to stay, don't you? He's let something loose that you kept locked up for a long time, and now you can't put it back in the box."

Garvin shrugged. "I know that he can't stay. His life is back in California. What is he going to do up here?"

"You made a life up here," Enrique told him. "You didn't think you'd be able to when you first came. Remember, you had planned to just stay for the summer? And then you found something and made this place your home."

Garvin nodded even as he knew it hadn't been that simple. "I found peace and quiet here."

Enrique lowered his head but still managed to glare at him. "I think that's what you tell yourself. But you became part of the community here quickly. You helped the ladies with the garden tour. You went out and helped the kids with their summer activities. You didn't do the peace and quiet thing—you became part of the community." There was something about the way Enrique spoke that Garvin should maybe take offense at, but he didn't. "You come to the trading post most days for lunch and spend the time gabbing with the other guys."

"Everyone is familiar, and they're friends."

Enrique nodded. "Of course they are. It's part of life out here. But what I think is that you're ready to open yourself to more, to someone special again."

"I suppose I am." He bit his lower lip. "And what if it's William?" He was the last person Garvin would have expected to capture his heart. William, who seemed to go through life moving the way the wind blew, regardless of the consequences, and yet things always seemed to work out somehow. When he first showed up, Garvin had wondered what the hell William had been thinking, and now… dammit, Garvin was worried about what he was going to do when William left.

"If William is the one you want, then make sure he knows it. Show him the best of life out here. We all stay because there's something almost intoxicating about this place. Nature is right out the window. We don't need to go to a zoo or an aquarium to see it. There are mountains and lakes, streams and valleys that will take your breath away."

"That' s true. But…."

"And you can get anything you want through Amazon." He winked. "Except a bride." Enrique snickered. "Did you hear that Gerald Spinner looked into a mail-order bride?"

"You're kidding," Garvin said. "What happened?"

"I think he came to his senses before he pursued it. But he told Devon and me about it, and we told a few close friends who have sisters. They had a party and invited all the single ladies, and Gerald met Marie. They've been going out for six months now. See? We all help each other."

"I see," Garvin said. "But I don't think there's anything any of you can do to help me with this."

Enrique shot him one of his looks again. "Don't be so sure. Remember, no matter how things work out, we'll all be there for you. If we have to, Devon and I can have a party and invite all the single gay men in this part of the state to see if one of them rings your bell."

Garvin laughed. He should have known Enrique would make him feel better. "Okay. That's one option." The other one was Garvin trying to figure out how to get William to stay. The more he thought about it, the more he figured that a damned party might be the more viable option.