Midwinter Night's Dream (14 page)

The article appeared above the fold on the
Denver Post
’s front page:

ESCALADE STAR IS MORE THAN A PRETTY FACE

Joe swallowed hard.
Oh, no…

Clutching the paper, he stood and checked out the front window. No reporters, no satellite trucks, no microphones or photographers. The walk to his room took less than a minute but seemed to take forever. Once inside, he closed the door and checked the rear. The backyard was free of the vultures.

Now to see what was going on. What had Errol said?

One of Denver’s most famous residents, Escalade model Joe Blake (aka Blake Huffington), is a hero tonight after rescuing a stranger.

Blake trained and worked as a paramedic and firefighter in Denver for eight years. After a doing a charity calendar two years ago, Blake became the spokesmodel for cutting-edge men’s undergarment company Escalade, adopting the pseudonym Blake Huffington. He had returned to the area for the holidays.

Three nights before Christmas, Mr. Blake came across traveler Errol Lockhart, hypothermic and unconscious after attempting to walk to shelter in Friday’s blizzard. Mr. Lockhart’s car became disabled on Old Lower Creek Road in the Linda Vista canyon. The area is rural and subject to high winds. Drifting was severe with the storm.

“There was no help coming along, the snow was getting worse, and I decided to find shelter,” Lockhart said. “It’s nothing short of a miracle Mr. Blake came along when he did.”

Because of the severity of the storm, it was impossible for Blake to transport Lockhart for medical assistance. Instead, Blake took Lockhart to his mountain cabin and successfully treated him for hypothermia and frostbite.

“I don’t remember the trip,” Lockhart said. “One minute I was wading through deep snow, getting tired, and then I woke up in front of a warm fire.”

Nothing about skin-to-skin warming in there. Errol had finessed it to sound like it was the fire that warmed him up. A pang of regret curled in Joe’s stomach as he continued reading.

“Luckily Joe has background as a paramedic and fireman and knew what to do to treat me effectively.”

Lockhart didn’t recognize his benefactor as the famous spokesmodel right away. Blake gave no indication of his identity other than his real name. “He acted like an ordinary guy. Not at all what I would have expected from a celebrity,” Lockhart said. “Very generous, very down to earth. He’s an excellent cook on a wood-burning stove.”

Lockhart said Blake made a secret family recipe.

While Blake and Lockhart were waiting out the storm, a generator in the shed next to Blake’s cabin caught fire, drawing the attention of the Forest Service and triggering a fire emergency. Snowplows were already at work on the road, and a pumper truck was able to get through and extinguish the fire before it spread to the cabin or surrounding forest. Blake and Lockhart were unhurt and returned to Denver. Blake is now a private citizen and back working for the Denver Fire Department. Lockhart is currently working at Pour Vous and staying at the Helping Hand Mission.

“I was incredibly lucky that Joe Blake came into my life that night,” Lockhart said. “It was a Christmas miracle.”

Joe tossed the paper on the bed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He’d been so harsh, so hurtful, denying Errol in front of those people.

It would have been a bad way to publicly come out.

Was there any such thing as a
good
way to publicly come out? Bryce had wanted them out, and Joe had resisted. It wasn’t just them, Joe had said. It was Joe’s two brothers who were firefighters, and his dad, a chief. It was the station.

Bryce had smiled and said, “They’re allies, not enemies. They’ll make it easier.”

Still Joe had resisted. He’d started to come around that year, enough that Christmas would have been his announcement to Bryce and then to the world. And then an arsonist took Bryce away, as surely as if the kid had suffocated Bryce himself.

You could still come around. Isn’t Errol worth it?

* * * *

Errol sat in the TV room, huddled on a wooden chair.
Hollywood Tonight
was on with guest host Pax Pantero. The host stood and said, “My next guest needs no introduction. You know him from his briefs and from his role in the upcoming action film
Continuum
. Blake Huffington!” The crowd clapped, and there were a couple of wolf whistles.

Joe walked across the stage and shook with Pax, waved at the crowd, and settled into the interview chair by the host’s desk, looking fabulous. None of the three-day beard and tousled hair now, no flannel shirts and jeans. In a dark suit with a shirt and tie, he looked every inch the spokesmodel. Errol’s chest ached.

“Welcome, Blake.”

“Thanks for having me.” Joe gave that devastating smile.

“You’re stepping down as Escalade’s spokesmodel, I hear.”

Joe glanced down, then over at Pax. “It’s been a great run, but it’s time for me to move on.”

There was murmuring in the crowd.

“You’re breaking hearts all over America. God knows Hans and I love those things.” Pax gave a high-pitched giggle. Errol rolled his eyes. It figured that the gay host would be weird about it.

“It’s been a terrific two years, but I’ve decided to return to firefighting.”

“Isn’t that going to make it pretty crowded at a fire? You, the fire department, and the paparazzi?”

“I hope they’ll respect my choice and not make it hard on my colleagues. They’ve been gracious enough to let me return, and it’s only fair it doesn’t disrupt their lives or the services they perform for the community.”

So he had actually done it. Maybe now he’d have a shot at being happy.

“Second, I have an announcement”—Joe’s voice shook a bit, and he swallowed visibly—“to the public…”

Pax sat forward in his chair. Errol sat forward in his chair.
No way.

Joe cleared his throat. “I’m…gay.”

The studio erupted, dozens of people speaking over each other. Joe patted the air for quiet.

“No!” screeched one of the women across the room from Errol.

When the audience quieted, Joe said, “Again, I ask for privacy for myself, my family, and my friends.” With a nod and that devastating crooked smile, he glanced at Pax.

“We’ll, uh, we’ll be right back for more with Blake Huffington.”

The show cut to a commercial, and when they returned, the discussion stayed only on
Continuum
and Joe’s role.

In a daze, Errol went to his room and got ready for bed. Joe was out. And maybe even proud. Too bad he couldn’t have dredged up that kind of testicular fortitude when it had come to them. But then again, why would he? Errol was just a convenient Christmas fuck. He slid between the sheets and turned off the light.

* * * *

All week Joe had hoped to hear from Errol. The news of Joe’s preferences had been splashed on every tabloid in the civilized world, and Joe doubted Errol had remained ignorant of the fact. Wasn’t that enough for him?

No, you ass. You owe him an apology and a lot more than “I like spending time with you.”

When it was love, there should be no limits. Joe should have told Errol how this snowbound Christmas had taught him to love again. And part of loving someone was letting them realize their dream, even if it didn’t match up with what you wanted. No matter how hard it was.

* * * *

Errol lifted the final rack from the dishwasher. The basement had gotten muggy as he’d run the glassware from the dinner service. Fifteen more minutes, and he’d be due in his room for the nine p.m. curfew. Helping Hand was a life saver, but the rules were strictly enforced. Working in the kitchen didn’t count as an excuse.

Footsteps came down the stairs.

Hadn’t they locked the door? Food service had ended two hours ago. Errol stripped the rubber gloves from his hands and made his way to the serving tables. The intruder wore a heavy parka in navy blue, and the hood was up.

“Hey, we’re closed. You’ll have to come back in the morning,” Errol said, rounding the counter.

The stranger pulled back his hood.

“Joe.” What was he doing here? “You can’t be here.”

“I have some things I need to say.”

“There’s nothing I need to hear except good-bye.” He turned away. The dishes needed to be finished.

“Please. Two minutes.”

Again with the please
. Heaving a sigh, Errol pivoted.

“Can we sit?”

Errol pulled out two chairs, pushed them several feet apart, and sank onto one.

Joe sat down and rubbed his palms on his thighs. “First, I want to say I’m sorry. You never were just a traveler to me, not from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Not a traveler, just a fling
. Errol crossed his arms over his chest. “Words. When it came down to it, you couldn’t even say I was a friend.”

“I was taken off guard. And I didn’t want the media to hound you for a story.” Joe’s gaze burned bright, half anger, half pleading.

Errol huffed, shook his head and turned away. “I can’t believe I ever got involved with you.”

“Please. Listen. Just listen.”

“Whatever. Ninety seconds.”

Joe dug in his pocket, pulled out a business card, and set it on the table. “This is the number of my agent, Gretchen Fillmore. She’s expecting your call. She’d like to get headshots and set you up on some auditions.”

“Great. I’m over a thousand miles from LA.”

“She’ll take care of the plane tickets. I want you to have your shot.”

“Sixty seconds.”

“I told my family and my boss that I’m gay.” Every line of Joe’s body was full of tension.

“Congratulations.” Errol drummed his fingers on the table.

“I announced it on
Hollywood Tonight
.”

Errol narrowed his eyes. “So?”

Joe raised a hand and dropped it. “I wanted everyone to know.”

“Forty-five seconds.”

“I love you.”

Errol froze. Had he heard correctly?

“Yeah.” Joe grinned. “I love you!” It echoed off the walls of the empty dining room. “Everyone, I love Errol Lockhart.”

“Shh.” Errol covered Joe’s mouth.

Joe pulled Errol onto his lap and pulled the restraining hand away. “I do love you. My life isn’t complete without you, and I think it’s meant to be.” He ran his fingers into Errol’s hair and pulled him in for a kiss. It was every bit as sweet as Errol remembered, and he sighed as Joe parted Errol’s lips. Errol had missed that taste.

When they broke for air, Joe asked, “Am I out of time?”

“I think I can spot you some more.”

Epilogue

Six months later

Joe slowed and turned down the drive to the cabin. The trees were completely leafed out, and the air felt soft and smelled of fresh lake water and wildflowers. In the seat next to him, Errol looked around like he’d never seen the place before.

“It’s so different without snow, isn’t it?” Errol said. In a T-shirt and shorts, he looked fit and tan and a lot like summer.

Joe grinned. “Absolutely. Especially without a half-frozen guy in a snowdrift.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

As they rounded a bend, the cabin came into view. The new generator shack had been built with bright clean wood and housed a new generator that ran on natural gas. It had cost a fortune to run the line five miles up from the main road, but Joe was done with gasoline. He wanted the luxury of continual electricity and water pressure.

Joe pulled to a stop in front. They got out and climbed the steps to the porch. Joe unlocked the door and pushed it open. The lingering smell of wood smoke greeted his nose, and he closed his eyes.

“Okay?” Errol asked.

Joe opened his eyes. “Yeah. After you, Lockhart.”

“That’s
Mr
. Lockhart to you, Blake.” Errol strutted past, and Joe swatted him on the ass. Errol had put on weight, and his lean frame had filled out nicely, enough so that he’d moved from working in the mail room of Gretchen’s talent agency to shooting a couple of commercials within a month. Gretchen had gotten him a reading for a film, and Errol’s first movie had wrapped last month. His role had been small but notable. The next role was bigger and would start filming in a month.

“You look great,” Joe said. “A lot better than you did the last time we were here.”

Errol turned and gave him a shy smile. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Joe laughed. He reached for the wall next to the door and flipped a switch. A chandelier made of antler and iron came on. Errol glanced up. “Lights?”

“Yeah. There’s a limit to how much rustic I’m willing to do.” Sheets draped the furniture, and the bed sat bare of linens, the quilts folded on the end. The new water heater was enclosed in a closet in the kitchen.

“I’m going to grab the suitcases.” Errol kissed him and jumped down the steps.

Six months ago Joe would’ve bet money he’d never be here with a lover. With Errol he should have known better. The man challenged Joe like no one else he’d ever known, but they were managing to make it work via a lot of air travel and phone calls. Of course, flexibility was key, and Joe had had his alpha ass handed to him a couple of times by Errol. Yeah, he was learning.

Joe’s fears that LA would ruin Errol hadn’t come to pass. He still drove Bessie around Denver and stayed at Joe’s old apartment in LA. Joe had actually made it through the premiere of the film
Continuum
standing side by side with Errol, out and proud.

Joe spent his time at the firehouse, fighting fires and making ambulance runs. His father and brothers had taken the news better than Joe had expected. It had been hard at first gaining acceptance from his colleagues, but he’d learned the art of finesse in Hollywood. Those two years had yielded more than Joe had anticipated. Errol came by when Joe was on shift, and the others had made him welcome. Of course, it probably didn’t hurt that Joe had liberally outfitted the guys with Escalade briefs.

Joe gazed out the front door. Errol stood on the chopping block, hands in his pockets, gazing into the trees. Then as if he sensed Joe looking at him, Errol turned and gave Joe a heartbreaking smile.