Chapter Eleven

THE SOLAR panels had been nonfunctioning for over a week due to the lack of sun. The backup generator couldn’t do its job since something had gone wrong with the propane tank and with the massive amounts of snow, blizzard conditions, and subzero temperatures, a serviceman wasn’t going to make it out anytime soon. Probably not till spring, Clay thought grudgingly. If being without electricity wasn’t bad enough, a side effect was frozen water pipes, so they were back to outhousing it. Which Clay wouldn’t mind so much if the goddamn snow and wind wouldn’t keep destroying the pathway he’d shoveled.

They were idiots. That’s all there was to it. Clay being the king of idiots since he hadn’t shot down Elliott’s crazy idea of going off grid. Instead he’d encouraged the madness. Surprisingly, Elliott wasn’t complaining about their dire situation and seemed quite happy to sit in front of the fire and enjoy his new hobby of whittling wood into abstract pieces and miniature animals. Little Man seemed content as well, snuggled up to Elliott’s side. Clay, on the other hand, was losing his fucking mind. The walls of the small cabin were closing in on him. He was stuck, unable to move too far from the fireplace or he’d freeze his ass off. If he could just watch TV, listen to music, or… something, anything besides sitting there twiddling his thumbs. He’d long ago gotten bored with finding hidden shapes in the dancing flames.

He had to get out of there.

Clay jumped to his feet, pulled the blanket up over his shoulders, and moved to stand near the window. He stared out into the winter landscape. The wind blew, creating swirls of dancing flakes, everything fresh and crisp, and Clay found no beauty in it, only irritation.

“I hate winter! I hate snow and cold and wind, and this time next year, I will be sitting on the beach in Florida with one of those drinks with a cute little umbrella in it.”

“You don’t like Florida,” Elliott reminded him. “And, I quote, there is something seriously sad about anyone who doesn’t get to fully experience the four seasons.”

“Stop using my words against me. I’m allowed to be wrong,” Clay grumbled. As he continued to stare out the window, the snow came down faster, and each flake seemed to mock him. “If I ever have to experience another North Dakota winter, it will be too soon.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“The hell I don’t,” Clay snapped. He glared at the winter landscape.

Elliott came up behind Clay, wrapped his arms around Clay’s waist, and rested his chin on Clay’s shoulder. “Someone’s getting a bit stir crazy.”

“Ya think! I can’t believe you’re not. Winter is never going to end. We’re going to die out here.”

“A bit overly dramatic too.”

The teasing tone in Elliott’s voice caused Clay to bristle and he tensed. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m sorry. What can I do to make this better?”

“Take me to Florida.”

“Sorry, no can do, babe. But you do need to get out of the cabin. How about we go build a snowman?” Elliott suggested.

“Seriously? That’s your alternative to Florida sunshine.”

“Fine, we’ll make a snow sun.”

Clay growled. His only response.

“Oh! I know! A snow fort,” Elliott said, sounding as excited as a child with the first snow. Clay growled again. “C’mon, grumpy man. It will be fun, I promise.”

Clay continued to stare out at the blizzard, unconvinced. Going along with Elliott’s bright ideas was what got Clay in his current miserable condition. However, staying inside the cabin a minute longer was intolerable. He blew out a resigned breath. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Elliott kissed the side of Clay’s neck before releasing him. “That’s the spirit!”

THE TWENTY minutes it took to put on all his winter gear had been a waste by the time Clay had a four-foot wall of snow shielding him from Elliott’s fort. Clay was actually sweating from the exertion. A light snow was still falling, but the wind had died down and the sun was trying to peek out from behind the clouds. The perfect conditions to play outside. The consistency of the snow was just right, just wet enough to make it pack tightly.

Clay glanced over to where Elliott had erected quite the wall himself and was still working on it. Clay smirked as he rolled yet another snowball and added it to the growing pile. While Elliott was working on his structure, Clay was building up an arsenal. He so had this war in the bag.

The last ten minutes before the battle was set to begin, Clay concentrated his efforts on making snowballs. His strategy was to pummel Elliott’s fort with quantity rather than worrying about the perfect aimed hit.

Satisfied with his stash, Clay brushed the snow from his gloves and pulled his beanie down around his ears. “You ready?”

“Almost. Count down from ten,” Elliott called back.

He couldn’t see Elliott, but his voice came from behind the wall he’d built and was no doubt still working on. He probably needed the last ten seconds to make snowballs. Clay smirked.

“Ten…. Nine…. Eight….” Clay gathered up some snowballs. “Seven…. Six…. Five….” He scooped up even more, never taking his eyes from his target. “Four…. Three…. Two….” He jumped up—“One!”—and threw the handful of snowballs. Elliott’s entire wall exploded into a dust of white.

Clay stared in awe, his tactic better than he’d expected. He grabbed another snowball, puffed out his chest, and cocked his arm, ready to tag Elliott the instant he showed his face. His cockiness overshadowed his logic and by the time it hit him that Elliott wasn’t retaliating, nor was he in is fort, it was too late. Clay spun around and was hit full force in the face with a snowball.

“Fire!”

Clay didn’t have time to react, taking another direct hit to the face, then chest, arm, and still another whizzed by his head, grazing his cheek. “Oh, you’re going to get it now,” Clay threatened. He grabbed another snowball and charged after Elliott.

The chase was on.

The thick, heavy snow made movements difficult, and more than once Clay fell flat on his face, first into a large drift, then again when he hit a dip in the terrain, but he was determined to dole out some payback.

Elliott thought otherwise, staying out of Clay’s reach. Elliott seemed to have an endless supply of energy, running, laughing, diving over snowbanks, his happiness infectious. Clay’s legs burned with exertion, the snow making each step difficult, yet he pushed himself. Determined.

He went to his hands and knees and scurried across the packed ground until he reached the drift Elliott had disappeared behind seconds ago. Clay lunged, grabbing Elliott by the boot before he could get away. Elliott fought to free himself but Clay held fast and moved quickly, digging in his heels and finding purchase. He got Elliott pinned beneath him and triumphantly gave Elliott the face wash he so much deserved. Elliott spit and sputtered, still laughing. Then they were rolling again, each trying to get the upper hand on the other. After long moments, they came to a halt, both covered from head to toe with snow and laughing like fools.

Clay lay on his back, breathing harshly. “Ready to give up and declare me king?”

Elliott lay next to him, still chuckling. He turned his head toward Clay and cracked up. “You look like a snow king all right.”

Elliott’s hat had been lost in the struggle, and his long hair and beard were white with snow. “And you look like a yeti.”

Elliott made some weird growling sound, no doubt his attempt to impersonate a yeti, but the sound was a cross between Chewbacca and a Chihuahua. They both bust out laughing even harder.

The cold started to seep into Clay and he shivered. Elliott went to his feet and held out his hand. “C’mon. I think the king and his yeti could use some hot chocolate.”

Clay took the offered hand and hoisted himself up. His arms and legs were heavy, his hair and clothes soaked. Hot chocolate and an even hotter fire sounded perfect. He slung his arm over Elliott’s shoulder and together they made their way back to the cabin.

NAKED, SITTING shoulder to shoulder, a blanket draped over them, Elliott and Clay sat before the roaring fire, toasty and warm. Elliott’s hands wrapped around his mug, he took a sip of his hot chocolate, letting it warm him from the inside. He glanced at Clay out of the corner of his eye. “Feeling better?”

Clay turned his head, a bright smile lighting up his face. “Yeah, that was fun. I’m still surprised you’re taking our situation in stride. Usually you’re the one bitching and moaning and I’m the one getting you to lighten up.”

“Weird, huh?”

“I kind of like it.”

Elliott arched a brow. “A bit of that payback you were talking about?”

Clay shook his head. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. I only meant, I was fucking losing it and your solution to keep me sane was a lot of fun.”

“I got your back,” Elliott assured him.

“I know, still blows my mind.”

“What? That I’d have your back? I’ve always—”

Clay patted Elliott’s thigh. “Simmer down, tiger. I was talking about how you dealt with the shit that’s gone wrong. No electricity, no running water, having to sit in the same spot all day to keep from freezing your ass off, no sun, nothing.”

Elliott tensed next to him, the problems they were experiencing obviously starting to get to him again. “I’m kind of enjoying it at the moment, aren’t you?”

Clay shrugged.

“Hey, what’s not to like? I mean, I’m warm, I’ve got a hot naked guy next to me, and this is delicious.” Elliott held up his mug, then took a sip. “I got everything I need right here.”

Clay was quiet for a long time before he responded. “Me too.”

Elliott was content to sit next to him, soaking in his warmth. Clay was right; there had been a huge change in Elliott the past couple of weeks. He’d gone from finding something to bitch about on a constant basis to peace. He even knew the exact time and place when the change had occurred. The night he’d been lying in bed next to Clay thinking he couldn’t stand another day. He wasn’t sure why in that moment it had happened, but a peace like he’d never felt before had descended over him like a warm cocoon. He decided to share the experience with Clay. Maybe it would help.

“You asked why I’m not all riled up with the bad luck we’ve been having. Well, remember the first night of the storm when I stayed outside too long?”

“Yeah, scared the bejesus out of me,” Clay admitted.

“Well, that night I was lying in bed after you had fallen to sleep, staring at the ceiling while holding you. I was so damn tired, but I couldn’t sleep. I don’t even remember what I was thinking about, if anything. What I do remember is this calm settling into me, and with it, everything became so clear.”

“Like what?”

“Like every hardship we have ever faced. Giving up our jobs to work on the rigs, working all those years with barely any time to see each other, and then the loss of our jobs. Fights over equality and being accepted by family, friends, and peers. I mean, every challenge that has popped up, we have faced and come out on top together. This cabin is but another one, and I guess I finally realized that I couldn’t bitch and moan about it.” Elliott glanced at Clay and smirked. “Which I admit I kind of enjoy. But in the end, it’s all going to work out. It always does.”

“Only if we have each other.”

Elliott set his mug down, took Clay’s from him, then gently pushed him down to the floor. “We’ll always have each other no matter what,” he promised Clay before taking his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss.

They lay together, kissing and touching and enjoying the quiet of night falling, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fire. Little Man situated himself behind Elliott’s knees, his loud purr adding to the melody of peacefulness within their small cabin. Now everything truly was perfect.

Going off grid, they’d created a wonderful life in which the two of them and one ornery old cat could live happily ever after.

Everything was right in his world, and with Clay by his side, it always would be.