Disclaimer: The characters in this story are like those in Due South in name only. There are no Chicago cops, though I loved the name "Chiland" from another prompt so I stole it. There are no Mounties, except in reference to the occupation of Ben's dead (completely and totally dead) father. There is no GTO, no 27th precinct and no Lieutenant Welsh. As such, any attempts to sue would be highly unsuccessful and a huge waste of everyone's time.

Author's Notes: Many thanks to Poet, for a kind and gentle beta. To readers, beware, this is a Harlequin Romance novel. Angst abounds.

Story Notes: AU story where Ben runs a heli-skiing operation in the sleepy town of Fernie. Ray has returned home with his 12-year-old daughter following his wife's sudden death.

Ray Kowalski stood in line at the post office and tried his best to become invisible. Of course he'd known this moment would come, had in fact been dreading it ever since he'd decided to permanently relocate to his old home town. Fernie wasn't the sprawling metropolis that Ray had left behind in Vancouver. Avoiding a specific member of the population wasn't easy in a town this small.

Especially when that member was literally the boy next door.

It had been...God... going on twenty years since Ray had laid eyes on Benton Fraser. With a sudden cruel clarity, Ray's memory found a long forgotten image, one he'd buried a lifetime ago. Ray remembered the last time he and Ben had been together.

The summer had been nearing its end and the two young men had gone hiking in the mountains. They'd found a flower filled meadow far from the regularly traveled tourist trails. Together they had lain in the grass, touching and kissing and talking of their future. Promises were made, vows of friendship and affection exchanged. They'd made love in the sunshine.

They'd been young and happy and stupid enough to think it would last forever.

It hadn't.

Within days, Ray had left town to attend college in Vancouver. The plan had been that Ben would soon follow. They would be roommates by the time classes started in the fall. But Fate had intervened.

Less than a week after Ray had set out for university, Ben's grandfather had suffered a massive stroke. The old man had been left partially paralyzed and unable to speak, completely dependent upon his wife's care. Young Ben's dream of big city life had come to a crashing end, as he became the sole breadwinner for his family.

Ray had wanted to go home. He was lonely and lost, more than a little overwhelmed. For the first time in his life, he walked through busy hallways, crowded streets and couldn't recognize a single face. There was nothing familiar, no steadying force to keep him from feeling adrift. Worst of all, there was nowhere to turn when his nerves stretched thin.

"No Ray," Ben had told him over the phone one night. "Stay there, complete your education."

"But it doesn't seem right to be here. Not alone." Ray had argued. "I miss you. And you need me now. I can help."

"No, I don't want your pity." Ben's voice had grown harsh and cold.

"But,"

Ben had rudely cut off Ray's reply. "Find someone else, Ray," He'd said. "There will be lots of people at university who'll want to be with you."

"But,"

"Go to the parties, drink the beer, sleep with the girls," Ben had laughed. It was a harsh sound that had made Ray shiver. "Do you know what you can do for me, Ray? Fulfill a fantasy for me, would you buddy? Find the most beautiful co-ed on campus and fuck her through the floor. Make sure she's a blonde, a longhaired blonde with a sturdy build. I was really looking forward to doing a few college co-eds. So you go ahead and do them for me. "

Ray had been stunned into silence.

"Goodbye, Ray." Ben's tone held no softness in it during those last words. A moment later, Ray was listening to a dial tone.

The hurt had been so sharp and ran so deep that for a while Ray had been numb with it. For days, he'd moved through life like an automaton. When the pain had surfaced, it had pierced through Ray like a hot iron, scalding and scorching from the inside out.

Unshaven and unwashed, Ray continued to attend classes, but had little recollection of the subject matter. His grades were only minimal, barely high enough to keep from getting kicked out of school. Not that Ray cared. He took to wearing black. He drank or smoked whatever anyone offered him.

When summer came, rather than go home, Ray got a job with a rock band. He lugged speakers around, played with the lighting and drove the equipment van. Spent most of his time wasted beyond belief. At one point that summer he woke up and found the Champion logo tattooed on his arm. He had no idea when or where he'd gotten it done.

Classes started again and Ray was there. With his bleached hair, tattooed arm and black attire, Ray had been the personification of punk. He knew how to roll a joint, and more importantly, where to get the necessary supplies. He started getting a reputation.

Just before winter break during Ray's sophomore year, he wound up at a high-class sorority party. Lean and whip-cord tough, Ray in his black clothes and Billy Idol-haircut, was incredibly out of place among the gem wearing girls and their football-playing boyfriends. But it had been at that party that Ray had said his goodbyes to Ben.

At that party, Ray had found the most beautiful blonde-haired girl he had ever seen. He'd walked up to her, introduced himself and offered her a joint. He'd gotten her drunk, totally wasted, and fucked her in the coatroom. When he climaxed deep inside her, Ray had cried out in pleasure and in anguish. It had marked the end of his first love, and the beginning of his second.

Stella had been too out of it to freak when Ray wept on her shoulder afterward. But she'd understood enough to hold him and rub his back, soothing him through it in her own way. Those had been the last tears Ray had shed for the boy he'd been, the boy he'd loved, and the life they'd dreamed of living.

After that, sex with Stella had become a regular thing. They were friends at first. She hadn't given him any grief over his inexperience though she was only Ray's second lover ever. She had been patient and kind and willing to let him experiment with her body. It had been a fun time for them.

That summer, Stella had taken Ray to her parents' vacation home in Newport Bay. Ray had been introduced to a way of life that he had only ever read about. Butlers answered doors, live in housekeepers whipped up the midnight snacks. Ray had been more than a little star struck.

Stella's parents had not approved of Ray, of course. Which, in retrospect was probably why she'd taken him home to begin with. By summer's end, Ray had proposed, Stella had accepted and Ray's future had a new plan. He'd been happy again. For a long while he and Stella had been happy.

"Ray dear, it's your turn." Ray twitched at the sound of his mother's voice, jerking him from his reverie.

Ray stepped up to the counter and shoved the thick envelope toward the clerk. "I need to send this priority mail, please."

While the postal clerk started stamping the package and typing on her keyboard, Ray's mother smiled up at him. "You were a million miles away, Raymond."

"Sorry Ma," Ray shrugged. "Just thinking about Stella." Not exactly a lie, he had been thinking of his wife.

Barbara Kowalski patted her only son on the back. "I can only imagine how hard this has been for you dear, losing her so suddenly like that."

Ray nodded. His mother didn't know about the distance that had been creeping into his marriage for the last several years. He had been losing his wife slowly, insidiously over the months before the car accident. Now that Stella was dead, Ray saw no reason to mention it. "It's harder on Mandy," Ray said. "A girl that age really needs her mother."

"She'll be all right," Ray's mother reassured him. "It will take some time, but she'll get through this."

Ray nodded again. "I hope so."

"Hello, Ray."

Ray choked back a gasp. In fretting over his daughter, Ray had completely forgotten about the man standing in line a half dozen people behind Ray and his mother. In leaving the post office, Ray had to walk past the patrons still waiting. As a result, he'd practically run into the one person he least wanted to see.

"Benton Fraser!" Ray's mother smiled welcomingly. "You look well."

"Thank you kindly, Mrs. Kowalski." Without hesitation, Ben stepped out of line so that he could talk without interrupting the queue. "I hear that Mr. Kowalski has recovered."

Ray stood mutely and stared at the man before him. Ben looked great. He'd filled in nicely over the years. His shoulders were broad and muscled. His skin was tanned except around his eyes, befitting a man who spent a lot of time outdoors wearing sunglasses. He wore a well-kept scruff of beard, the kind that looked to be a perpetual two days worth of growth. It probably went over really well with his female clients. His pants were faded blue jeans, worn soft with age. Beneath his vinyl coat, Ray could see a thick white sweater that was a bit ragged at the edges. Ray abruptly felt self-conscious in his angora sweater and designer pants.

Ray paid no attention to his mother as she prattled on about his dad's heart attack and the doctor's instructions that had permitted him to go home. It wasn't until she began talking about Ray, that he registered her words.

"And he can't do any of the chores that need done around the place," Ray's mother was saying. "But Ray's come home for good. So he'll be taking over those things his father can't do anymore."

Ben's deep blue eyes swung toward Ray. "You've moved back to Fernie, then?" he asked.

Ray nodded, unable to find his voice.

"We should get together sometime," Ben said. "Catch up, reminisce about old times."

Ray frowned. Girding up his courage he replied, "Sure Fraser, whatever."

Not 'Ben'. 'Fraser'. And from the narrowing of those bright blue eyes, the choice of name had been noticed. Ray tried to make his voice sound as bland as possible. The past was the past and Ray had long ago put it behind him. He needed Ben to know that.

Ben seemed to take the hint. "Well then," he said awkwardly. "It was good to see you Ray, Mrs. Kowalski. Have a pleasant day."

Ray nodded in return and tried not to run from the building.

-

"Amanda Lynn Kowalski!" Ray gasped. "You apologize to your grandmother this instant."

"It's okay, Ray," Ray's mother replied. "I know she didn't mean it."

"I did!" Nothing can screech like the high-pitched fury of a twelve-year-old girl. "I meant it! This place sucks and I hate it!"

In a flurry of pigtails and ribbons, Mandy dashed across the kitchen toward the back door. Ray caught her around the waist and the little girl screamed in frustration.

"Ray, please," Barbara said.

"Mom!" Ray held the flailing girl with both arms and cast a pleading look toward his mother. "I need to handle this. We need to handle this."

Ray's mother nodded sadly and left the room. Ray, manhandling his struggling daughter, tossed the child over one shoulder and stormed out the back door. He hauled her across the yard, past the woodpile and the shed to the edge of the trees. The wooded expanse ran for nearly a half mile, ending at the property of their nearest neighbors.

Ray plopped his offspring onto a nearby stump and glared at her. For a moment, Ray remembered the many a stern lecture he'd received from his father while sitting on this same tree stump. Shaking away the memories, Ray sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Mandy," he asked. He carefully reined in his irritation as he spoke. "We all need to chip in around here. This motel doesn't run itself."

The girl's long blonde braids shook as she duplicated Ray's posture. "Why don't you hire people to clean up? Why do I have to do it?"

"We haven't got the money right now," Ray explained. "We talked about this."

"But you sold your percentage of the restaurant!" Mandy cried. "You said you made a bundle on the deal. I heard you!"

"Yes," Ray admitted. "We've made a tidy sum by selling our rights to the Chiland. But the deal hasn't gone through yet. The paperwork won't be done for a few more weeks."

The little girl harrumphed.

"Besides," Ray continued. "You used to love helping me in the kitchen. What, your old man's too boring for you?"

"This place is boring," Mandy snapped. "Why did we have to leave Vancouver? Why did you have to sell the restaurant?"

"Mandy, it wasn't my restaurant. I was only a part owner." Ray told her. "Your mom and I wanted to sell our piece of the Chiland and open a place of our own. You know that."

"Yeah," Mandy nodded sadly. "I know. And the ball was already rolling when Mom got..."

Ray nodded. He'd had his suspicions about Stella's desires to cash in on the Chiland, but with his wife's death, Ray had no reason to enlighten his daughter. The kid had it rough enough as it was.

"But Dad," Mandy was saying. "In Vancouver, everyone knew what a great chef you are. You had a reputation there. Here it's all moose burgers and corn dogs."

Ray couldn't prevent the startled laughter that snorted from him. "It is not!" he denied. "Moose burgers, please."

"I just want to go home, Daddy." Mandy's face took on a sad longing that would have broken Ray's heart if he hadn't been subjected to the child's wicked charm for the last twelve years.

"We are home, baby."

Fury bloomed in the girl's face unquenched. "But none of my friends are here!"

"Exactly!" Ray roared, his patience at an end. "Your so-called friends were hiding their weed in your room! Your so-called friends were stealing cigarettes. Your so-called friends dress like they're trolling for tricks on a street corner. Friends like that you don't need!"

Ray was only too aware of what had happened in his life when Fate had given him his first taste of pain. He shuddered to think of his baby girl being lost the way he had been that first long year of college. She was only twelve. He had to protect her as best he could. Ray fervently hoped that in Fernie, he could protect her for a few more years.

"But I do," Mandy said. "I need my friends. I'm not like you Daddy. I need my friends to talk to."

Ray cringed. Was he really that obvious? Had he so isolated himself from others that even his daughter recognized his lack of companionship? Ray knelt in the damp grass at his daughter's feet. "But we used to be friends, baby, you and me. You can always talk to me. Please sweetheart, talk to me."

Mandy's eyes grew wide and filled with tears. Her lower lip trembled and she shook her head slowly. "I can't Daddy. I just can't." Bursting into tears, the little girl sobbed and dashed away from her father. She jerked away from Ray's grasp and a moment later she vanished into the woods.

"Mandy!" Ray called as he set out after her. Though he'd brought his daughter to Fernie to visit over the years, Ray didn't think the child fully understood the remoteness of their location. There were wolves in these mountains, maybe even a bear or two. It wasn't exactly safe to wander around if you weren't familiar with the area.

Following the girl's trail wasn't hard. Under the shelter of the trees, there were patches of unbroken snow and soft damp earth. Mandy's footprints were easily traced.

Ray didn't hurry. Let the girl run herself out, he figured. Cowardly perhaps, but he didn't want to argue any more. In a way, Ray wished he could blame the child's stubbornness on her mother, but that wouldn't be exactly honest. It was Ray that had the nasty temper. Stella had always been eerily calm when angry. The more level and icy her tone, the more trouble Ray knew he was in. Ray was the one who became dramatic, throwing things and slamming doors.

Ray trudged through the growing gloom. As he realized where he was headed, he was sorely tempted to stop and beat his head against a tree. Ray walked past the large boulder that marked the edge of his family's property, and stepped onto the neighbor's land. This was George and Martha Fraser's place, or it had been when Ray had been a boy. Now that both George and Martha had passed away, the land belonged to Ben.

Ray followed the path through the woods, barely needing to look for his daughter's footprints. The path was still well marked, the landmarks easily picked out of the darkness. They were landmarks Ray had placed himself when he'd been about the same age Mandy was now.

When lights became visible through the trees, Ray knew he had reached the Fraser cabin. "God hates me," he murmured to himself as he headed for the front door.

Ray hadn't quite made it to the cabin when a voice stopped him. "Hello Ray."

Ray twitched hard in surprise. He turned and saw Ben standing against in the barn's doorframe. He was silhouetted by a soft light filtering from inside the barn. It made him look like an angel, come to impart some message of holy significance.

"Hey," Ray said. "I don't suppose you've seen a stray kid around, have you?"

Ben seemed to think that over for a moment. "A little girl perhaps? Blonde braids? Pink sweater?"

Ray nodded. Ben's lips curved in a smile that did not reach his eyes and beckoned Ray toward him. Ray hesitated for only a moment on the threshold and then followed Ben into the barn.

The lights were low inside the structure. But even in the dimness, Ray could see that the place hadn't changed much. There were stalls lining each wall, two in the corner held horses. There were several lined with wire to form kennels for about a dozen furry sled dogs. Most of the dogs were curled in the hay-lined stalls, sleeping peacefully.

One large white canine sat in the middle of the barn, with no collar or leash. The animal bared its teeth at Ray and growled low in his throat.

"Diefenbaker," Ben scolded the creature gently. "Be nice. This is Ray."

"Daddy," Mandy whispered. She was kneeling before a large square stall, peering through the wooden slats in rapt fascination. "Monroe is having her puppies."

Sure enough, inside the squared off area, there was a gray and white bitch. She was lying on her side panting heavily. She didn't seem to mind the little girl's presence.

Ray approached carefully and peered over the railing. "Can I stay, Dad? Please?" Mandy asked in a soft whisper.

Ray looked toward Ben, who shrugged in return. Motioning the other man away from the stall, Ray asked quietly, "Not her first litter then?"

Ben shook his head. "Her third. Mandy can stay if it's okay with you."

Ray was tempted to take his daughter and run screaming from the place. But this was the first sign of enthusiasm Mandy had shown since they'd moved to town. So Ray clenched his teeth, mentally whispered a prayer to the gods of Fate and nodded his permission.

For several minutes they stood in silence, with only the animals' sounds and grunts around them. Ben gestured to Ray and the two men moved to the back of the barn where a long wooden tool bench spanned one entire wall. A coffee maker sat on the bench, three quarters full of dark liquid. When Ben wordlessly offered an empty mug, Ray nodded and Ben filled two cups with steaming brew.

"So," Ray knew enough to keep his voice low. "You're still raising your grandfather's dogs?"

Ben shrugged. "It's a hobby mostly. The skiing tours are what pay the bills."

"I was sorry to hear about your grandmother," Ray said. It was lame really, considering that Martha Fraser had died more than two years ago.

Ben nodded. "The flowers you sent were very nice. Thank you kindly."

"Martha was a nice lady," Ray responded.

"She always liked you," Ben added with a smile.

Ben's smile was a genuine one and it lit his eyes from within. Ray felt an old tightness growing in his chest. He quickly looked away, which was a mistake because Ray's gaze dropped to the wooden workbench. God... the memories, there were too many memories here.

Ben followed Ray's glance and ran his fingers along the top of the scarred wood surface. "You remember," Ben whispered.

"Yeah," Ray choked. He glanced quickly toward his daughter, but she was too far away to hear them, and far too enthralled with the dog.

"I thought perhaps you had forgotten," Ben added.

Ray shook his head slowly, sadly. "Tried to. Succeeded for a while... a long while."

"I never meant to hurt you," Ben said softly.

Ray's eyes shot up to meet Ben's. He wondered what Ben was referring to, their relationship overall, or the first time they'd had sex here in this barn. The memory slammed into Ray so swiftly, he felt dizzy with it. The smell of the hay, the snuffling dogs around them were so like they had been on that lazy afternoon. Ray remembered the feel of the scarred wooden table top biting into his palms has he held on tight. He felt his face go warm at the remembered cry he'd been unable to bite back when Ben had taken him so long ago.

"I hurt you," Ben repeated. His hands caressed the workbench and Ray understood that he was referring to that first penetration. "I didn't mean to. We didn't have any idea what the hell we were doing."

Ray swallowed hard. "We figured it out," he whispered. "It got better the next time."

Ben smiled. "Which if I remember correctly was about ten minutes later." He laughed quietly. "Seventeen was a very good year."

"Yes, it was. But eighteen kind of sucked," Ray replied harshly.

The smile on Ben's face vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. He looked down and studied the tips of his boots for a moment. Any reply he had planned to make was aborted when Mandy rushed over to them.

"Ben," she gasped. "I think I can see a puppy."

Ray frowned. "His name is Mr. Fraser to you young lady."

"Can I help?" Mandy ignored her father and followed Ben back to the whelping stall.

Ben glanced back at Ray for permission before handing a pile of cotton towels to the little girl. He opened the stall and carefully entered. "No sudden moves now," he whispered. He pointed to a spot only a few feet away from the laboring dog. "Sit here. When I hand you a puppy, you dry it off as fast as you can."

Watching from just outside the pen, Ray leaned against the top rail. "Fair warning, sweetheart, it'll be pretty gross."

Ben grinned and glanced up at Ray mischievously. "Your dad got sick the first time he saw a whelping," he told the girl.

"I won't get sick," Mandy promised. "I helped make pate in the blender once. Nothing is more gross than that."

True to her word, Mandy hadn't been fazed by the slime-covered pups. She intently did the job she'd been given, wiping down wet puppies as Ben handed them to her. At one point, pups were coming faster than Mandy could handle so Ray climbed into the pen with her and dried a couple of the critters off himself.

After what seemed like an age, but couldn't have been more than half an hour, Mandy sat in the straw with a lapful of squirming, wriggling little balls of fluff. Ben soothed the mother dog while the bitch licked at the last of the puppies. The storm gray pup was a runt, barely half the size of the others. Ben held it in the palm of his hand and shook his head sadly.

"Runt?" Ray asked.

"Afraid so," Ben said with a sigh.

Ray had hung around George Fraser's breeding pens long enough to know what was in store for the too tiny pup. Mandy didn't have any idea, but she could tell by the looks the two men were exchanging that it wasn't good.

"Is it okay?" Mandy asked.

"For now," Ben told her. He looked to Ray again.

Ray appreciated Ben's reluctance to upset the girl. But Mandy had just lost her mother, so death was something she'd come to know very quickly. Ray nodded, giving Ben permission to explain further.

"He's too small," Ben said. "And he's one of eleven puppies. He's not going to make it."

"Why not?" Mandy cried.

"Monroe can only feed ten pups at a time," Ben clarified. "This little guy won't ever get any milk because the others will push him out of the way."

"It's survival of the fittest, baby," Ray said, smoothing one hand down his daughter's back. "These aren't pets. They are sled dogs, bred for the Territories. There just isn't room up North for a dog that can't pull his own weight."

"You're just gonna let him die?" Mandy asked.

"I'll do what I can for him," Ben told her.

"But he'll die," Mandy's voice grew hard. "Everything dies. Even puppies." The little girl scrubbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt and tried hard not to cry. "My mom died," she blurted suddenly.

"I know," Ben replied.

Mandy sniffled again and stood up. She carefully brushed the straw from her pants and turned toward Ben. "Thank you, Mister Fraser, for letting me see your puppies get born," she said stiffly.

"And thank you, Miss Kowalski for your assistance," he answered.

"Can we go, Daddy?" Mandy held out her arms and let Ray pick her up. She put her head on his shoulder and wrapped her legs around his waist. She was too big to carry like this but Ray missed this closeness so much that he walked all the way home with the little girl in his arms. His back would be screaming in the morning, for sure. But it was a small price to pay to have his baby back for just a little while.

-

The weeks went by and Ray found a comfortable routine for his life. The sale of Ray's Vancouver restaurant was finalized and a check for an embarrassingly large sum of money arrived in the mail. Right off the top, Ray put nearly half of it into an investment account for Mandy's education. The rest went into the motel's business account.

Business was slow. Over the summer, Ray's dad had been forced to cancel a number of reservations while he'd been in hospital. And although the winter season hadn't really started up yet, the number of bookings hadn't recovered. Only two of the ten available rooms were currently in use.

To make matters worse, the big Fernie Alpine Resort on the far side of town had just completed an expansion. The resort was beautiful, modern and huge. Furthermore, their rates were lower than the Kowalskis could possibly offer at the tiny Snow Valley Motel and RV Park.

They were running in the red. And though the money Ray had just received was a sizable amount, it wouldn't last more than two or three years without an increase in business. The mere thought of closing the motel could keep Ray up at night. The Snow Valley Motel had been in Ray's family since it first opened in 1899 and he wasn't about to be the one to end his family's heritage.

Yet there was time. Ray was in no rush to find an answer to his problem. He was nowhere near desperate. So when Ben stopped him on the street corner one day, Ray could have said no. He probably should have said no. But he didn't. When in his entire life had Ray ever said no to Ben Fraser?

"Hello Ray." Ben leaned over to peer at Ray through his open car window.

Before answering, Ray waved goodbye to his daughter as she bounded from the car and rushed up the schoolhouse steps. "Hello."

"Your parents are well, I presume?" Ben asked.

"Yes," Ray sighed, suddenly weary of idle chitchat. "They're fine. I'm fine. Mandy is fine. The weather is fine. Was there something you wanted?" Ray's tone was rude and he knew it. But he saw no reason to observe the social niceties with a guy who used to lick his ass.

Ben pulled back a bit and frowned. Ray could see the thoughts running across Ben's face. He could see the exact moment that Ben decided to bite the bullet and ask, "Could you spare an hour this afternoon Ray?"

"Why?" Ray drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.

"I have a business proposition for you."

Of all the things Ben could have said to gain Ray's full attention that would have been the last one Ray would have thought of. But it was singularly effective. "Business proposition?" Ray repeated.

Ben nodded. "I have an idea that I think will benefit us both. Could you come by the cabin, say one o'clock?"

-

A few minutes before one, Ray parked his car next to Ben's pickup truck in front of the Fraser cabin. He stood nervously on the front step for a time, struggling with his indecision. Ray was just about to turn and run away when his hand moved of its on volition and knocked on the wooden door.

"Come in!" a deep voice called from within.

Ray opened the door and stepped into the cabin. For a moment, he thought he'd stepped through a time warp. The large welcoming room had not changed since Ray had last seen it twenty years ago. A hand made quilt, sewn as a wedding gift to Martha and George, still draped carefully over the back of the couch. The lace tablecloth was still on the round kitchen table, though it was showing frizzy signs of wear. Ray remembered watching Ben's grandmother crochet the lace one winter when he was nine.

George Fraser's rifle still hung over the mantle. The bookshelves along one wall still held the same books. Even the kitchen appliances looked to be the same, except for the noticeably newer microwave that sat on one counter.

"This place hasn't changed much," Ray remarked.

Ben was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the hearth. He shrugged. "Grandmother always liked things to be just so," he said.

"She's been gone for a while now, Ben," Ray pointed out. "You could shake things up a bit if you wanted."

Ben shrugged again. "I hadn't thought of it." Ben glanced down at his lap and added, "I'll be with you in just a moment Ray."

Only then did Ray notice what Ben was doing. In one hand he held a baby bottle. With the other, he held snuggled in his lap, a cloud-gray puppy. The pup was a roly-poly thing about the size of a football. He lay on his back slurping greedily at the bottle Ben held for him. The animal gazed at Ray over Ben's hand and Ray was struck by the odd icy-blue color of the puppy's eyes. They looked like wolf eyes.

Ray put two and two together. "Hey," he said. "Is that the runt?"

Ben nodded. "I thought, perhaps, Mandy might like a dog."

"You've been hand-feeding him all along haven't you?" Ray asked.

"I'm afraid so," Ben admitted. "A bloody waste of time I know but... I never could deal with the runts the way my grandfather did."

Ray nodded. Ray had suffered nightmares for months as a boy, dreaming of George Fraser's big smothering hands and those weak, tiny little pups.

"What's his name?" Ray asked, because it seemed a logical thing to ask.

"Don't know," Ben said. "I've always believed that a dog only ever really belongs to the one who names him. If I'm going to give him to Mandy, she should pick his name."

Ray sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh. How had he ever thought he could come back to this town and ignore this man? A knife twisted in Ray's chest as he realized that his love for Ben Fraser had never really ended. Ray had simply covered it with his feelings for Stella. Like masking one layer of paint with another, the old love had not changed in any way. It had simply lain dormant and hidden, waiting for the Stella-coating to be stripped away.

"You don't mind, do you?" Ben asked. "If I give him to your daughter?" Ben looked up then, his deep blue gaze locking with Ray's.

Ray could see things in those eyes, always had. But he wasn't quite sure what he was seeing. There was hope there, a tentative gesture of friendship. But it was mixed with something Ray couldn't quite define, something hidden and secretive.

The puppy squirmed from Ben's grasp with a yip and scampered over to Ray. As the little fluff ball sniffed Ray's shoes, Ray contemplated the effort it had taken to keep the pup alive. Ray crouched down and picked the puppy up in both hands. Lifting him up to eye level, Ray gave him a critical look.

The dog was a healthy pup. Close to being weaned no doubt. Ben must have bottle fed him from the day he'd been born. Ray could only imagine what it must have been like to care for the fragile, blind creature, feeding him every two hours until he'd been big enough.

"Ray?" Ben asked in a voice tinged with concern.

Ray huffed a small laugh. "Mandy will adore him," he said finally. "And you will be her hero."

"That's sort of the idea," Ben added with a grin.

Ray frowned. "You trying to bribe your way into my daughter's heart, Fraser?"

"Damn right I am," Ben replied with a grin. He stood and brushed off the seat of his pants. He plucked the puppy from Ray's lap and settled the little dog in a tall box that stood in one corner. "Behave, you," Ben told the puppy firmly. To Ray he said, "Let me wash up and we'll discuss that business proposition."

Five minutes later, Ray sat in the passenger seat of Ben's pickup truck. They drove down a dirt road that led away from the cabin, deeper onto Fraser land. When Ray had been a boy, this had been no more than a path. A path Ray and Ben had needed to clear every summer as nature tried desperately to reclaim it.

But now, there was a road here, a well-kept road by the looks of it. Though the way was not paved, the ride was smooth. Any dips or holes that appeared in the mud were undoubtedly filled in regularly.

The trees around them suddenly gave way to a huge open space. On the side of the road was a sign that read "BF Heliskiing Tours". The road ended in a small parking lot in front of a quaint-looking log cabin. The building wasn't large but seemed relatively modern.

"Come on," Ben smiled as he left the truck. "I'll show you around."

Ray followed Ben into the building. Inside there was a front desk behind which sat a girl of about nineteen. There was a huge lobby area filled with couches, there was a portable display to the left of a large fireplace. The board was tacked with maps and emergency procedure guides.

"Good morning, Lindsey," Ben said to the girl. "Any calls?"

"Mornin' Boss," she replied. "Mr. Evans called from the resort. Asked that we be on standby this afternoon."

Ben nodded. He looked to Ray and explained. "Sometimes the Alpine Resort overbooks their tours. They expect that they'll have some last minute cancellations. But when everyone shows up when they are supposed to, they haven't enough guides. So they send the overflow business our way."

"You're doing well then?" Ray asked.

"Well enough," he said. "We'd do better if we could book more of our own tours, rather than waiting on the resort to send them our way."

Ray nodded. Evidently, his business wasn't the only one affected by the Fernie Alpine Resort.

Ben looked at the girl again and asked, "Is Turnbull here?"

"Yeah," she answered. "He's out tinkering as usual."

With a nod, Ben gesture to Ray and they walked through a door labeled "Employees Only". This led to what was obviously an office of some sort. There was a desk and a couple of chairs, a computer and several filing cabinets.

"We'll look over the books later," Ben said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Ray frowned in confusion. Why on earth would he need or want to know about Ben's business dealings?

They went through a door on the far side of the office and Ray found himself outside. Before him was a wide, cement covered area that served as a helipad, if the vehicle parked there was any indication. There was a barn-like structure nearby, a hangar.

"Wow," Ray exclaimed.

"It's a Bell 212," Ben told him, as though that meant something to Ray. "It will carry ten passengers plus the guide. We break even cost-wise with six, so we offer discounted rates for larger groups."

As they approached the helicopter, a large, broad man in a red plaid shirt crawled from under the machine. "Turnbull," Ben said. "This is Ray Kowalski. Ray, this is my mechanic slash pilot, Renfield Turnbull."

"It is so good to meet you Sir." The man pumped Ray's hand like he was running for office or something. He seemed very enthusiastic. "She's a beauty isn't she?" Turnbull stepped back and admired the sunlight as it glinted off the polished helicopter.

"Very pretty," Ray agreed. Turning Ray asked, "Ben? Perhaps you could be a little more specific about this proposition? I'm feeling like I walked into a movie twenty minutes into the story."

"Okay," Ben agreed with a nod. "Let's go inside and get some coffee."

A few minutes later they were sitting in Ben's office staring at each other across the metal desk. Ben sighed, rubbed a thumb across one eyebrow and pulled nervously at his ear.

"Just spit it out, Ben." Ray told him.

"Right." Ben straightened his spine and began talking. "While this venture is doing well, I'm not comfortable with the level of dependency I have on the Resort. If they decide, next season, to add another chopper and guide to their staff, I could be out of business. And frankly, that kind of investment would be no problem for their sponsors.

I however, can't very well advertise on my own without having a place to offer my customers accommodations."

"Ah," Ray said. He began to understand his role in Ben's proposition.

Ben continued, "Your place has ten rooms, each of which can accommodate two to four patrons. So at peak capacity, you've got between 20 and 40 potential customers for me."

"Ben," Ray argued. "We haven't had 40 guests at one time since prohibition was lifted. Especially not since the Resort was built."

Ben put his elbows on his desk and leaned closer. "Well, I've an idea about that too," he said. "If we change the name of the motel,"

"No way!"

"To 'Snow Valley Inn', or even better 'Snow Valley Bed and Breakfast', we could focus on a specific set of clientele. We'd focus on those interested in heliskiing tours. We'd play up the cuisine angle too. You've got skills Ray. We need to utilize those, advertise them.

Fine coffee and pastries with a delightful breakfast to start your day," Ben expounded. "Followed by an experienced guided skiing tour of Fernie's renowned powder. Your experience wraps up with award winning cuisine prepared by our very own chef." Ben grinned. "You could even raise the room rates."

"Yeah," Ray said slowly. "We'd be focusing on a set of customers that won't mind paying a little extra for the better service."

"Exactly," Ben agreed with a smile.

"And what do you want out of this deal, Ben?" Ray asked.

Ben squirmed for a moment. "Well, I'd like to get another chopper and hire a second pilot and another guide."

"And?" Ray pressed.

"Though my business is doing well at the moment, I haven't got that kind of cash outlay."

Ray nodded. "But you know that I do."

Ben shrugged. "Your mother may have mentioned it."

"It's a good idea," Ray said as he rose from his chair. "I'll have to think it over of course, get a lawyer to put something together for us."

"Well you see," Ben stood as well, holding his hands out in a calming gesture. "I was thinking we could dispense with the lawyers."

"Ben," Ray said with a shake of his head. "You can't just merge two businesses without filling out all the governmental paperwork."

"But we could get married."

Ray flinched as through he'd been smacked in the head with a stainless steel skillet. "What?"

"You heard me," Ben said quietly. "What's been in my family would stay mine, what's in yours would stay yours. Mandy would be legal heir to both."

Ray was stunned, completely pole-axed. He sputtered for a moment, unable to still his spinning mind. "Mandy? You'd leave everything to Mandy?"

Ben shrugged. "I have no heirs, Ray. Not much chance of ever having any." He looked down to study his clenched hands for a moment. "Unlike you, I've spent my life strictly on one side of the fence, if you know what I mean. Unfortunately, it's the side that means I don't get heirs."

"You're gay," Ray blurted out.

Ben cast him an odd look. "Yes Ray," he replied carefully, as though he was speaking to a mental deficient. "One would think you knew, seeing as you were there when I discovered it myself."

Ray was suddenly furious. "Don't you blame this on me!" he yelled. "Yeah, I was there. I was the one you were fucking."

"I'm not blaming you, Ray."

"Yeah, well don't." Ray roared. He paced the room like a caged animal. "I just happened to be there when you figured out where to put your dick for maximum enjoyment."

"Ray, don't make it sound so..." Ben argued.

"So ...what?" Ray gasped. "I loved you, you bastard. I'd have done anything for you."

"You think I don't know that?" Ben's voice started to rise in response to Ray's angry words. "You deserved so much more than I could give you, Ray. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, but I had to let you go."

"Oh give me break," Ray scoffed.

Ben moved around the desk and grabbed Ray by the shoulders. "It's true, Ray. Do you have any idea what it was like to lose you? You'd been at my side almost constantly from the day we met. Remember that day? Grade one, Billy Talent stole my black crayon and stomped on it. And you let me borrow yours, remember?"

"I remember," Ray answered softly. Ben was so close, too close. The scent of him wafted around Ray like a sweet torture.

Ben gave Ray's shoulder a gentle shake. "No one has ever loved me with the purity and selflessness that you did. I've spent a lifetime trying to find even the palest imitation of what we shared."

"Don't," Ray pleaded, yanking away from Ben's grasp.

"I know you loved your wife," Ben continued. "I know it's too soon and she's barely cold in her grave. I know I lost your love a long, long time ago. But I think it can be good between us, Ray. Not what it was, but still something good."

"You don't understand," Ray whispered.

"Yes, I do," Ben replied. He laughed in a hard, icy way. "There is nothing I understand better than loveless relationships. I've had a ton of them - trust me. It doesn't mean they weren't good."

"I can't do this," Ray stammered. "I can't talk about this. I have to go."

"Promise me you'll at least think about it," Ben pleaded.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Ray mumbled. Then he turned and fled.

-

For the next two weeks, Ray thought of little else. Everything he saw, everywhere he went reminded him of Ben. Ray tried to stay busy with the hotel, but if anything business was getting worse, even though the winter season had officially started.

The one and only booking they'd had for this weekend had canceled at the last minute. Evidently the young man had left the girl at the altar, so there was no need for a honeymoon retreat. Ray had felt so sorry for the weeping young woman that he'd even refunded her deposit, which had been a mistake because he'd gone out of his way preparing pastries for the newlyweds. Of course he hadn't mentioned that to the heartbroken young woman on the phone.

So the motel was empty, the bills were due, and Ray had neither seen nor heard from Ben since the scene in Ben's office. To say that Ray was in a slump was quite the understatement. Added to Ray's troubles was the fact that Mandy was barely speaking to him.

The little girl was disappearing every afternoon. Sometimes she wouldn't come home from school until after dark and Ray couldn't for the life of him find out where she had been. He imagined she was sneaking out behind the high school and smoking with a couple of other troubled pre-teens. Ray prayed that was all it amounted to.

Seeing as there was little do around the motel, Ray decided that it was time to find out exactly what his daughter was up to. So, he walked downtown, leaving his car behind. He waited in the coffee shop across the street for school to let out. When he saw Mandy come out of the building, he tossed a tip on the counter and snuck out after her.

Mandy headed toward home, a direction Ray had not expected. She walked quickly and with purpose, never looking behind her to see if she was being followed. Abruptly leaving the sidewalk, Mandy cut down the narrow alley between the post office and the gas station. Then she cut through the grocery lot and entered the woods behind it.

Ray followed. He didn't move too quickly. His legs were longer than hers and he didn't want to catch up before she reached her destination. After several minutes, he realized that he could see the motel through the trees. For a moment, he thought Mandy had simply gone home, but Ray quickly discovered that Mandy wasn't stopping.

They moved through the woods toward Ben's place. The further they went, the closer they got and the angrier Ray became. Sure enough, Mandy left the woods and walked into the Fraser barn as though she owned the place.

Ray could hear her greeting as she entered. "Hi Ben!"

The answering voice froze Ray in place. "Hello Amanda." It was Ben's voice, without a doubt.

"Ash!" Mandy's giggling voice squealed. "How are you boy?" There was a pause and the sound of an excitedly barking dog. "What do you want me to do today, Ben?" the girl asked.

"Do you think you could manage to groom Daisy by yourself?" Ben asked in return.

"No problem."

Ray stood beside the barn door with his back pressed against the outer wall. He was terribly confused, afraid to go in, yet equally afraid to leave.

"Ben," Mandy asked from inside the barn. "When can I take Ash home with me? He's big enough, eating real puppy chow and all."

"When your father tells me you can," Ben answered. There was another long pause. "Have you talked to your dad yet, Amanda?"

"I can't, Ben," Mandy's voice was suddenly tense and upset. "He'll hate me."

"Sweetheart," Ben said in a scolding tone. "Your father could never hate you. He has an incredible capacity for love. You are quite lucky to be the recipient of it."

"Ben," Ray moved into the open doorway and let the others know of his presence.

Ben looked startled, but Mandy seemed to cringe in near panic. "Daddy?" she stammered. "I was just doing some chores for Be- Mr. Fraser."

"Ah," Ray said. He turned angry eyes away from his daughter and toward the man standing silently beside her. "What are you doing, Ben? Trying to blackmail me with my daughter's affection?"

"It isn't like that, Ray," Ben denied. "I would never use Amanda that way."

"But you would use me," Ray accused.

"She just needed someone to talk to, Ray," Ben explained. "There is nothing more to it than that."

"I'm her father!" Ray yelled.

"Daddy, please," Mandy whimpered.

Ray ignored her. "She's my daughter, why can't she talk to me?"

"You'll have to ask her that, Ray," Ben replied. "I will not break a confidence."

Ray gaped. He knew that stubborn set to Ben's jaw. Medieval torture couldn't drag a secret from Ben Fraser, especially when he was as determined as he seemed to be now. Ray slowly turned his gaze to Mandy. She stood near Ben, cringing, with her head hanging low, as if she was afraid of Ray.

"Mandy, sweetheart," Ray begged. "You're scaring me. Please talk to me."

Ben crouched down in front of the girl and turned her so that they were looking eye to eye. "Talk to him," Ben urged. "Everything will be all right."

Mandy stifled a sob and threw her arms around Ben's neck, hugging him hard. Ray felt jealousy race through his veins. But, much to Ray's discredit, he wasn't sure of which of them he was more envious.

"It's okay," Ben murmured. "It's okay. Tell him." He gently pulled the child away from his body and turned her toward her father. Ben nudged her shoulder, encouraging her closer to Ray.

Tears streamed down Mandy's cheeks and her eyes darted around the barn, her gaze never meeting Ray's. "I...I just," she sniffled. "I can talk to Ben."

Ray frowned. "You can talk to me too, honey."

Mandy shook her head. She sniffed. "I can't. Not like I can talk to Ben." Mandy dragged one arm across her eyes and added, "Ben's mom died too."

Ray swallowed hard. "I know," he said. "When Ben was very little."

"She got shot," Mandy told him. "He had lots of bad dreams about her being shot."

Ben didn't talk much about his mother. She had died when he was six. But as boys, Ben and Ray had spent a great deal of time together, had spent many a night sleeping over. Ray had never asked about the dreams when they came, he'd simply let Ben climb into his sleeping bag or snuggle beside him in his bed. While Ben had cried himself back to sleep, Ray would rub his back and whisper soothing nonsense.

"Are you having bad dreams, Mandy?" Ray asked.

"It's my fault," she whispered so softly, Ray only barely heard it.

"No, Honey," Ray began.

"It is." Mandy's voice was sad and forlorn. Ray's heart bled for her. "Mom was leaving."

Ray flinched. Evidently Mandy knew more about the state of his marriage than he had thought.

"She wanted me to go with her," Mandy was saying. The words began to pour from her faster and faster, as though once begun, she could not stop them. "She and Frank came and took me out of school. They took me to this fancy restaurant, and told me that they were going to get married."

"Oh god," Ray groaned. He ran his fingers through his hair and for the first time in his life, had evil thoughts about his wife.

Mandy went on, "She wanted me to go with them. But I said no - I couldn't leave you all alone. You love us, me and Mom both. I told her Frank couldn't ever love us like you do." Mandy's body was shaking with the force of her tears. "I'd kept her stupid secret about Frank. I didn't tell. You didn't have the first clue that anything was wrong! How could I leave you all by yourself?

I told them they could go to hell!" Mandy bawled. "I stood there and told them both to leave and never come back. And they did. They left. And now Mom won't ever come back!"

Ray didn't remember crossing the room, but he must have because with one swift motion, he scooped his daughter up in his arms and held her close. "Baby, baby, baby," Ray crooned. "It's not your fault. It's not."

Mandy sobbed and choked against Ray's shoulder. "I didn't want to tell you," she moaned. "About Frank. I didn't want to hurt you."

Ray rocked the girl back and forth. "It was never fair for mom to ask it of you. That's too big a secret for one little girl. I'm sorry that you had to know, honey. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry I told, Dad," Mandy cried. "You loved mom so much and she was going to hurt you."

"Hey," Ray said, smoothing Mandy's hair as he talked. "I already knew."

"You did?" Mandy eased back and looked into Ray's face.

Ray nodded. "I sort of thought something was wrong before, but after the accident, the police told me that Frank had been killed too. The police found suitcases in the car and some other stuff as well. If I only suspected before the accident, the police cleared up any doubts afterward."

"I'm sorry, Daddy." Mandy buried her face in Ray's shoulder again.

"Not your fault, honey," Ray said. "This was never your fault."

Mandy's tears wracked through her body as the grief poured out of her. Ray wanted to fix this, to make everything better again, but he could only hold on tight as his daughter worked through her pain. Ray was so focused on Mandy that he only vaguely recognized the touch on his shoulder. Ben steered them out of the barn and up to the cabin where he gently settled Ray down on the couch.

Mandy sat on her father's lap, her long legs hanging down one side as she wept uncontrollably. Ray rubbed her back and soothed her as best he could. He murmured nonsense in Mandy's ear, kissing her forehead and holding her close to keep her warm. Ben started a fire in the hearth and draped a quilt over father and child. Ray could only nod thankfully at the other man's gesture.

-

Ray wasn't sure how much time had passed. He realized he'd fallen asleep only when he jerked back to wakefulness. It was dark in the room, the only light coming from the fireplace. Mandy was asleep, snoring ever so quietly as she sprawled in Ray's arms like a rag doll.

For a long minute Ray admired his sleeping child's face. A voice came out of the darkness, surprising him.

"She is a lovely child, Ray." Ben told him.

Ray nodded. "Beautiful," he agreed. "I am so lucky to have her."

"I think she's the lucky one."

Ray looked up. Ben's shadow stood against the entrance to the kitchen. A lantern burned on the table behind him, it's meager light illuminating the table top and little else. There was a book face down on the table, but Ray had not heard Ben rise from the chair.

Moving carefully so as not to wake her, Ray slid out from under Mandy. He tucked the quilt under her chin and left her sleeping on the couch. He crossed the room and stopped only a few feet from where Ben stood.

"She isn't so lucky. She's lost her mother." Ray shook his head. "And now she has only me to raise her."

"But you are raising her," Ben argued. "You could have dumped her with your parents and gone back to your life in Vancouver."

"I'm sorry, Ben," Ray said gently. "I didn't think of how this would affect you. Your old man left you here and went back to the Yukon when your mum died, didn't he?"

The shadow nodded. Ray wished he could see Ben's expression, but the other man's face was hidden in shadow. "No matter how inept you may feel at it Ray, you must know that you are a good father. If only because you are trying to be one."

This is a moment to cherish, Ray thought. The flickering darkness around them wrapped the two men in intimacy. The room was not silent. The crackling fire, the sleeping child, somewhere in the dark there was the snuffle of a dog and the faint whine of a puppy. At this moment, Ray wanted nothing more than to let loose the restraints around his heart. He wanted to allow himself the simple pleasure of loving Ben Fraser again.

But Ray had been hurt too badly in the past. Now he was cautious.

"How many is a ton?" Ray's mouth asked before his brain knew what was happening.

"Pardon?" Ben's head tilted in confusion.

"You said that there had been a ton of loveless relationships," Ray explained, knowing suddenly that this was what had bothered him most these last two weeks. "So what's a ton? More than four? More than a hundred?"

"More than four," Ben admitted. "Less than a hundred. Fernie's homosexual community isn't that large."

"There are tourists," Ray noted and wanted to bite off his tongue as soon as the words left his mouth.

"There have been a few tourists," Ben told him. "But most of my out of town admirers are of the female persuasion. And as I have mentioned before..."

"Girls don't turn your crank," Ray finished. "Yeah, I get that."

There was a long silence between them. Finally Ben whispered, "I've never learned to love anyone but you, Ray."

"Then why did you send me away?" Ray said. "Why not let me come home to you all those years ago?"

"Staying in Vancouver was what was best for you." Ben sighed. "Don't tell me you regret it. I know you don't."

Ray swallowed and glanced toward the sleeping girl on the couch.

"I saw you together once," Ben confessed softly. "You and your wife. You were at the steakhouse downtown, eating dinner with your parents. You were seated near the window and I saw you from the street.

I wanted so badly to go in." Ben took a deep breath. "To talk to you, to get close enough to simply touch you. And then I saw the woman, blonde and beautiful. She passed a baby to you and you laughed, sat the baby on your lap, and kissed the woman as she leaned over the child."

"Mandy," Ray said.

"Must have been," Ben said with a nod. "It was a number of years ago." There was a long pause, during which Ray could think of nothing to say. "It was easy to see how much you loved her."

Ray nodded. "Yeah. I loved her. But in the end, Stella was gonna screw me over too," he said.

"Ray," Ben said softly.

"No," Ray interrupted. "See here's the thing. I'm no good at the loveless relationship thing. I've never had one. Stella was it for me. I loved her like crazy. I never once cheated on her, ever. Even after I figured out that maybe she was cheating on me."

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"Yeah, you should be." Ray fought to keep his voice low, so that he didn't wake Mandy. But he still managed a suitable tone of fury. "Because before Stella, there was only you. Do you get what I'm saying here? I'm 2-0, it's the bottom of the ninth, one more strike and this ballgame is over. It's a damn scary place to be Ben."

"So there's no room for me in the lineup then?" Ben asked bleakly. "I've lost my chance?"

"Ben," Ray sighed.

"Do you love me at all?" Ben asked. "Even just the tiniest bit for old time's sake?"

Ray grabbed the front of Ben's shirt and shook him. "I never stopped loving you, you idiot. I loved Stella with all my heart but it never meant I stopped loving you."

"Ray?" Ben's voice was tentative, wavering on the edge of hope.

"God, I'm an idiot," Ray grumbled. "A fucking masochist." He shook Ben hard. "Don't you make me regret this," Ray begged. "Please, Ben. Don't do anything to make me regret this."

"Never. Never," Ben gasped. "I'll spend the rest of eternity making it up to you I swear."

"Swear it again," Ray growled as he yanked Ben close.

"I swear, I swear, on my mother's grave I swear," Ben vowed.

Then they were kissing. Ray's lips were pressed against Ben's and he sighed in pleasure and relief. The kiss was exactly like the kisses Ray remembered from twenty years ago, and yet they were completely different. Ray's tongue brushed across Ben's lips and the taste was as perfect as those in his memory. But as Ben reciprocated, his mouth devoured Ray's, making breathing difficult.

Ray gasped, inhaling the smoky, fresh scent of Ben. The smell of him had aged somehow, becoming something richer, fuller than it had been in the past. Ray buried his nose in the hollow of Ben's neck and savored the aroma.

"Ray," Ben groaned softly into Ray's hair.

"I know," Ray panted. "This is... it's just..."

"Good," Ben murmured. "It's good."

Ray nodded. Then with a deep agonized sigh he pulled away. "Yeah," he sighed. "I should go."

"Not yet," Ben pleaded.

Ray swallowed. "We're not alone, Ben."

Both men glanced at the couch, where Mandy still slept.

Ben ran one hand through his hair. "Right," he said. "Right. Ease up, take this slow. It will be fine." He seemed to be talking to himself more than to Ray.

"Would you mind giving us a lift home?" Ray asked.

It only took a few minutes to drive the distance between the cabin and the motel. Mandy had been still half asleep when they bundled her into Ben's truck. But by the time they jerked to a stop in front of the motel, the girl was more alert.

"I could come in," Ben suggested as Ray opened his car door.

"Not tonight," Ray told him. "Mandy and I have a few things to discuss."

Ben nodded. "I'll understand, Ray," he said. "If you think this wouldn't be the best thing for your family."

As Mandy went into the house, Ray leaned on the open car door and gazed thoughtfully at Ben. "You've always done what you thought was best for others haven't you?" he asked.

"I try."

"Huh," Ray said. A new understanding of his old friend began to take shape. Ben's life had been a series of sacrifices made for others. He'd been abandoned by a father who enjoyed his solitary existence in the Yukon. He'd given up on college to support his grandparents. He'd kept his home the way his grandmother wanted it. During the years Ray had known him, Ben had stepped aside on dozens of topics, deferring his needs and wants to those around him.

"You should try to be more selfish once in a while, Ben," Ray said with a small smile.

"Come home with me, and I'll show you selfish," Ben growled.

Ray laughed. "Not tonight. I've got to figure out how to tell my kid that I'm getting married." Ray smiled and slammed the car door before Ben could reply. Ray waved and walked toward the house. When he went inside and closed the door behind him, Ben was still sitting in his truck, grinning like a fool.

Mandy stood at the kitchen counter, layering thin slices of ham over a thick chunk of bread.

"Hey," Ray said to her. "Make one for me."

Ray watched his daughter work for a moment, admiring the easy grace with which she moved. She wasn't really a little girl anymore, and Ray could see in her the woman she had not yet become. At that moment, Ray decided that Ben was right. If Mandy wasn't keen on the idea, Ray would put off getting married again. Ben would wait until Mandy was grown. That would happen all too soon.

"So," Ray began. "You and Ben have become friends, I guess."

Mandy shrugged without looking up from her task. "Yeah. He's nice."

Ray let that sit between them for a moment. Mandy brought two plates with the sandwiches and set them on the table. "I think he gets lonely sometimes," Mandy said as she pulled out a chair. "He seemed glad to have someone to talk to."

"Oh?" Ray asked.

"And he can talk about practically anything," Mandy continued. "Even though he's hasn't been more than 200 km from Fernie since he moved here, Ben knows about lots of different places."

"He reads a lot," Ray explained.

Mandy nodded. "That's what he said." She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. "You know what, Dad? We should take Ben to Vancouver next time we visit. I think he'd like that."

"You wouldn't mind him coming along on a family trip?"

"No," Mandy replied. "He hasn't any family to go with. So I think he should go with us."

Ray ate a few more bites then placed his food carefully on his plate. "He really wants to be a part of our family. What would you think of us making it official?"

Mandy frowned with puzzlement. "How so?"

Ray shrugged. "He asked me to marry him."

"But you're a guy." Mandy hesitated. "Geez Dad, are you telling me you're queer?"

"I'm saying that I like Ben," Ray said with a sigh. "I like him a lot. Very much the way I liked your mother a lot. It doesn't matter to me that he's a man or that your mom was a woman. I just know how I feel."

Mandy thought that over for several minutes. "Do you love him?" she finally asked.

"Always have."

"More than mom?" Mandy added.

Ray paused while he examined what was in his heart. "Not more," he responded. "Not less. But it isn't the same kind of love either." He struggled to explain. "Your mom was my wife and best friend for all the years I was with her. Ben is my best friend first, and spouse or companion or whatever the politically correct term is, second. Am I making any sense?"

Mandy smiled. "Yeah, Dad. I think I get it." She poked at the crusts of bread on her plate. "I hate the idea of you being alone now," she said. "And Ben seems so sad and lonesome. If you guys will make each other happy, I guess you should go for it."

"And it won't bother you," Ray pressed. "That we're two guys?"

"I suppose they made it legal for a reason. I just won't think about it too hard," Mandy said with a shrug. "I mean, what kid wants to know the sordid details of their parents' sex life anyway?"

"Good point," Ray admitted with a chuckle.

"But no way am I gonna call him 'Mom'," Mandy said seriously. But she couldn't keep a straight face for long. They both burst into laughter.

-

Ray woke early the next morning. He was antsy, but had little to do. He occupied himself for a couple of hours with busy work. Even in a small motel like this one, there was constant vacuuming and dusting to be done, paperwork to file. But most of the major stuff had been accomplished the day before, in preparation for the doomed wedding party Ray had been expecting.

Over breakfast, Ray contemplated telling his folks about his own wedding plans. But when it came right down to it, he and Ben had barely talked about the subject. It just seemed wrong somehow, to discuss things with his parents before hashing them out properly with Ben.

So Ray said nothing. He ate quickly, leaving much of his food untouched. He gulped down two cups of coffee and took a third with him as he shut himself in his office to call Ben.

The phone at the cabin rang for five minutes before Ray realized that Ben probably didn't have an answering machine. Ray had to get a little creative to find Ben's work number. He had to call the Alpine Resort and ask a few leading questions in order to get the information he wanted, but in the end he got it. If his career as a chef/ hotel manager didn't pan out, perhaps he could make a living as a private investigator.

Ray dialed the phone number and his call was answered after only one ring.

"Snow Valley Heliskiing Tours, this is Lindsey," a young woman's voice chirped. "How may I help you today?"

"Hi Lindsey," Ray grinned. "Ray Kowalski."

"Hello Mr. Kowalski!" The girl's friendly voice seemed warm and sincere.

"Please, call me Ray. Is the boss in?" Ray asked.

"Nah," Lindsey replied. "He's got a full tour up on the mountain today."

"Oh." Ray was inordinately bummed by that news. "He'll be out all day then?"

"Most likely," the girl informed him. "Conditions are just about perfect. So they'll try to make three runs down the mountain."

"When do you expect them back?" Ray asked. "If you're allowed to tell me, I mean."

"Well the boss-man did say that you were going to be his new partner," Lindsey told him. "So I guess I can tell you whatever you want to know, seeing as you may be signing my next paycheck and all."

Ray laughed. "No, no. Ben still gets to do that honor, Lindsey. I'm not your new boss or anything. Think of it more like a collaborative effort."

"Whatever," Lindsey replied. "At least I get a more exciting way to answer the phone. 'Snow Valley' sounds so much nicer than 'BF'."

"True," Ray agreed.

"Anyway, the tour won't be back here before three o'clock. Four at the latest. There will be a thirty to forty minute de-brief during which the customers will return their safety transistors and look through the photos Ben has taken. One of my duties is to put out juice and bottled water for them. Cookies and pretzels and such for snacks."

"I see," Ray said.

"Playing in the snow all day takes up a lot of calories," Lindsey explained. "They have a box lunch supplied during the day, but everyone is pretty much starving while they wait for the car to come from the resort."

An idea began to form in Ray's head. He should probably discuss it with Ben first, but then again, Ben had changed the name of his business without consulting Ray. It was time Ray took a little initiative of his own.

"Lindsey," Ray asked. "What time will you start setting up for the tour's return?"

"About 2:45, why?"

Ray nodded. "Then I'll see you at 2:30," he said. "Don't do anything until I get there."

"You're the boss."

Ray spent the rest of the day gearing up for 2:30. He wasn't really prepared to cook for a group, so he had to use supplies he already had on hand. Thankfully, he now had a use for those special pastries. He had only to remove them from the freezer and bake the flaky desserts. The rest was shear innovation.

By the time a handful of snow covered, laughing tourists stomped into the ski lodge just before four o'clock, Ray and Lindsey were ready for them. A fire was burning in the huge fireplace. Fresh pastries were set out on a cloth-covered table. Ray served warm breadsticks, a specialty of his restaurant days. The bread had cheddar cheese blended into the dough, giving it an orange color and mouth-watering flavor.

There were blended fruit drinks the thick consistency of milk shakes and a flavorful cider Ray had only just invented. The cider was served hot and was a cross between tea and lemonade, sweet and tangy, with a stick of cinnamon in each cup.

The skiers loved it. The group consisted of a couple from Vancouver with their teenaged sons, two college students from Toronto and two couples from Seattle who had actually toured with Ben in previous seasons. Ray greeted them all with equal humor and professionalism, behaving as though he'd been doing this for ages.

When Ray caught Ben's startled look, he winked at him, then turned back to his conversation with the woman from Vancouver. It wasn't until the van from the resort had pulled away that Ray had a moment alone with Ben.

"Was that sort of what you had in mind?" Ray asked him.

Ben smiled. "I was thinking more along the lines of hot cocoa and fancy sandwiches with the crusts cut off," Ben admitted. "But as usual you have surpassed all my meager expectations."

Ray grinned. "I can do hot cocoa," he said.

"With marshmallows?" Ben asked, quirking one eyebrow as he spoke.

"How about with whipped cream and chocolate shavings perched on top?" Ray suggested.

"See?" Ben purred. He pulled Ray into his arms with a smile. "Surpassing expectations again."

"We aim to please," Ray murmured as Ben buried his nose against Ray's neck.

"Oh, thank god."

Ray started to laugh but the sound was blotted out as Ben took Ray's lips with his own. When they finally pulled apart, both men were panting heavily.

"I've got to fill out my log book," Ben said breathlessly. "Then we'll go to my place, and I'll fill you in a couple of my other expectations."

Ray grinned wickedly. "Do you think I can surpass those too?" he purred.

Ben answered with a growl and quickly disappeared into his office, rearranging himself as he walked away. Ray began clearing away the serving trays and wrapping up the extra food. He had just put the remaining two breadsticks into a zip top plastic bag when Ben's pilot strolled into the room.

"Hello, Turnbull," Ray said. He offered the bag to the other man. "You want to take these off my hands? Save me the trouble of carting them home."

Turnbull acted as though Ray had just offered him a gold medal. He thanked Ray profusely, dug into the bag and sat on the edge of the table to savor his treat. "Oh my, these are wonderful, Ray!" Turnbull gushed.

"Glad you like it," he replied with amusement.

"Oh no Ray," the other man went on. "You must understand how incredible this is!"

"Yeah, I know," Ray said. "The recipe won an award a couple of years ago." It wasn't really bragging so much as a relaying of fact, Ray told himself.

"I guess the old saying is true, eh?" Turnbull continued. "A way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

Ray frowned. "I'm not sure what you're getting at."

Turnbull started on another breadstick. "Not getting at anything," he shrugged. "Just that maybe if I could cook like this, Ben would've stuck with it longer is all."

"Stuck with it?" Ray was suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

"Uh-huh," Turnbull licked the last of the crumbs from his fingers. "Hey, keep me in mind, okay? Ben may have a short attention span, but I won't throw you out of bed for getting crumbs on the sheets, if you know what I mean."

Before Ray could reply that 'No, he really didn't know what that meant', Turnbull had wiped his hands on the back of his pants and left the room. Ray was still standing there with his mouth hanging open, when Ben returned a minute later.

"Are you okay?" Ben asked.

Ray stammered a bit before he found his voice. "I think... I think Turnbull just made a pass at me."

"He's harmless," Ben replied.

"But he..." Ray began. "Stuck with it?" The pieces of the puzzle began to take shape in Ray's head. "Shit," Ray gasped. "The two of you have a history."

"Of a sort," Ben admitted.

Ray crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "Of a sort? What the hell does that mean?"

Ben sighed and leaned against the table Turnbull had just vacated. "It means that we have had what you would call a history, yes."

"When?" Ray sputtered. "For how long? Were you going to tell me?"

Ben answered calmly. "About five years ago, when he first moved to Fernie. It lasted about four months, though it was a couple more before he moved out. And no, I wasn't going to tell you. It didn't seem relevant."

"Moved out?" Ray gasped. "You don't think I'd find it relevant that you've got an old boyfriend working for you? Damn it all Ben, I think it's bloody relevant." Ray turned away and started tossing things into the box he'd used to transport the food from the motel. His hands were shaking. They shook so badly that one of the delicate glasses used to serve the fruit drink slipped from Ray's fingers and crashed to the floor.

"Damn," Ray hissed. As he crouched on the floor to pick up the pieces, Ben hunkered down beside him.

"Ray," he said softly. "Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray."

"What?"

Ben stroked one hand through Ray's hair as he spoke. "I haven't been locked in a glass case all these years. I've lived a life. A lonely, quiet life for the most part, but I haven't spent all of it alone."

"Turnbull said that you have a short attention span," Ray said. "When you get tired of me I should go look him up and he'll treat me better."

Now it was Ben's turn to frown. "He said that?"

Ray nodded. "Not exactly those words, but the gist of it was there."

"The four months I spent with Renfield was a record for me," Ben confessed sadly. "Hell, you and I were only lovers that one summer. We only had those three months."

"I loved you a lot longer than that Ben," Ray whispered.

"I know," Ben answered. "And I you. And that's the point, Ray. I was never in love with Renfield Turnbull. But you were gone, married, lost to me forever. And he was here, and willing and fun to be with. It was easy to be with him."

"And now?" Ray asked, because he simply had to ask it. "Is it easy to be with me?"

Ben shook his head. "No," he replied. "No. It's terrifying and it's damned hard." He leaned over and kissed Ray gently on the lips. "But it will be worth it," he murmured into Ray's mouth. "Nothing so precious can come easily."

"Ben," Ray whispered.

"Ray."

"Take me home, Ben," Ray pleaded. "Take me home and take me."

Minutes later, Ben braked hard, bringing his truck to a screeching halt in front of his cabin. Ray didn't even manage to get out of the automobile before Ben had latched onto him and began inspecting Ray's taste buds with his tongue. Ben crawled across Ray's body, popped open the passenger side door and hauled Ray from the vehicle.

They weaved across the yard, bodies pressed against each other as they kissed. Ben's coat slid from his shoulders to be abandoned in the snow. His sweater was shed next, dropped carelessly to the wooden planks of the cabin's porch. They banged through the front door and Ben whirled Ray around, backing him against the panel and forcing it closed with Ray's body.

Ray closed his eyes and rode the waves of passion flowing from Ben. Ray shuddered with anticipation as Ben peeled away layer after layer of wool and cotton until there was nothing between them but flesh. Ben's warm, wet lips closed around Ray's nipple causing him to nearly sob with the joy of it.

"Missed this, missed you," Ben murmured against Ray's skin. "No one ever gave to me like you do. No one ever trusted me like you do."

Ray frowned, shaking his head back and forth. "I don't trust you," he gasped. "How can I trust you?"

"But you do," Ben whispered. He lifted his head and Ray gazed into his bright, passion-filled eyes. Ben raised his hand to Ray's mouth, placing his fingertips against Ray's lips. Ray sucked them against his tongue without hesitation. He drew them into the warmth of his mouth and savored their taste.

Ben groaned low and deep in his throat.

Ben's fingers pulled back, away from Ray's lips. Before Ray could protest their leaving, Ben's lips were on his own and the wet fingers were stroking enticingly against the most sensitive of openings. Ray gasped, jerking wildly in Ben's arms. His entire body sank into the pleasure of those talented fingertips.

"You see?" Ben said against Ray's temple. He licked at the dampness growing at Ray's hairline. "You open right up for me. You surrender completely, with barely a touch. So trusting, so giving, so..."

"Yours," Ray moaned. "Yours for the taking." Ray wrapped his arms around Ben and held him tight. "Take me Ben," he whispered frantically.

Ben took what Ray offered. They stumbled through the house to Ben's room and tumbled onto Ben's bed. They made love with a sweet desperation, Ben's hard body thrusting into Ray's again and again.

Afterward as they lay tangled together in a gasping heap, Ray admitted the truth to himself. Ben was right, there was nothing Ray would not give him. Nothing Ray would not do for him. Ray trusted him implicitly, always had.

"I love you, you know," Ray said.

"And I you, Ray," Ben murmured. He kissed Ray's shoulder, the nearest bit of flesh. "I'll make you believe me someday, I promise."

"I believe you."

-

-

Ray woke to the feel of hot, moist suction on his dick. He groaned his approval. Unfortunately, this caused the pleasant sucking sensation to stop so that Ben could talk.

"Good morning sleepy head," Ben murmured. He voice sounded far too cheery for the predawn hour.

Ray growled.

Ben's low laughter sent a ripple through Ray's groin. Or maybe it was caused by the firm hand palming Ray's steadily growing erection. "You never were much of a morning person, were you?"

"Five o'clock is not morning," Ray sighed. "This is predawn hell."

"Oh it isn't that bad now is it?" Ben asked with a wickedly wonderful twist of his wrist on Ray's cock.

Ray moaned. "If I'd known..." Ray interrupted himself with a gasp. "...You were into early morning sex..."

"What?" Ben asked with amusement. "You don't like waking up this way?"

"I didn't say that." Ray hissed as Ben's hand disappeared. It was quickly replaced by another slicker, slipperier palm full of lube.

Ben kissed Ray's lips as his positioned himself over Ray's hips. "Seventeen days," Ben whispered against Ray's lips.

Ray held Ben's waist in his hands, savoring the thick sturdiness of him as Ben joined their bodies. With a gasp Ray asked, "How long are you going to keep track of the days?"

"Until I can start counting the months and the years," Ben panted. "I just do it to remind myself that it's real. We're really married."

For a time the words between them stopped as passion took over. Ray gasped and heaved, unable to do anything more than hang on while Ben rode him. When Ray came, he came hard, his cry of pleasure muffled by Ben's kiss.

Ray's heart was still racing, the sweat still cooling on his body when Ben said, "You really do need to get up."

"I hate you," Ray said. His fingers gently fingered through Ben's hair, removing the sting from his words. "Who's bright idea was it to make this place a bed and breakfast anyway?"

"Guilty," Ben told him. Ray could feel Ben's grin against his left nipple. "I told you I'd help with the preparations, Ray."

"Ben, I love you dearly," Ray told him. "But you can't cook toast."

"True," Ben admitted. "But I can slice fruit. I can cut vegetables. I can pour juice. I can do lots of things to help."

"Right. As long as you don't have to apply heat," Ray said with a chuckle.

"Exactly." Ben grinned and sat up. He patted Ray on the hip and dragged the rest of the covers off the bed. Ray yelped at the sudden loss of warmth. "Come on Ray, we have a lot of people to feed."

"I'm really going to kill that Bennings woman," Ray hissed as he dragged himself into a vertical position.

"We owe the Bennings a great deal, Ray," Ben scolded gently. "Mrs. Bennings' article has sent a lot of business our way."

"Yeah, yeah," Ray grumped. "Which is why I gotta drag my skinny ass out of a warm bed at o'dark thirty." He leaned over and kissed Ben as sloppily as he knew how. "And lucky me," Ray continued. "I have an extra sweet incentive to stay in bed."

Allison Bennings had been the woman who'd come from Vancouver with her family three months ago. She'd been among the group touring with Ben on the day Ray had first brought his cuisine up to the lodge. What neither Ben nor Ray had known at the time was that Allison Bennings was a freelance writer for a popular travel magazine. She'd set out to do a story on the Fernie Alpine Resort, and had ended up writing about a small outfit called Snow Valley Heliskiing Tours.

According to Mrs. Bennings, the Alpine Resort was large and commercial. The patrons had reservation numbers and key cards and overbooked tours. Snow Valley on the other hand, had friendly staff members who knew your name, treated you like family and fed you like royalty.

Bookings for Ben's skiing tours and at Ray's inn had been strong and steady ever since.

Ben put his arms around Ray and squeezed. "Perhaps I can give further incentive for getting out of bed."

"Hmm," Ray hummed, leaning into Ben's warmth.

"If you make those apricot things for me," Ben murmured into Ray's hair. "I'll give you a blow job in the pantry before I go to work."

"Deal." Ray agreed immediately. He laughed at the mild surprise on Ben's face. "I know you like them, so I keep everything I need to make them on hand."

"Am really so easy?" Ben asked with a smirk.

"Yep," Ray grinned. "Heart by way of stomach, you know."

Ben planted another kiss on Ray's lips. "Have I told you recently that I love you?" he asked.

"Not today," Ray informed him.

"I do, you know."

"I know, Ben," Ray said and kissed him back. "But do keep telling me."

"Always."

-

The end.