Page 29 of Captivated

He flushed. “Thanks. But nowadays it takes more than talent to succeed. You need to know how to promote yourself.” Hecocked his head. “Think about Salvation. If you didn’t have that website, how would people ever know about the ranch?”

“You got a point. Toby’s always talking about promotin’ the place.”

Nate nodded. “And I’m crap at promoting myself. I don’t make connections easily. I don’t make friends easily. Maybe if that changes, I might achieve some success.” He returned his gaze to the sketching pad. “But enough about me. Tell me about Salvation. You said it’s a safe place, where a man can be true to himself, with no shame, no judgment. I want to hear more aboutthatpart of Salvation. My dad told me something that surprised me.”

“And what was that?”

“He said half the regular hands are gay, and the other half are bi.”

Zeeb chuckled. “That’s probably a fair description. Robert, the guy who owns Salvation? He’s gay. So I guess like calls to like. Therearesome straight hands, by the way, but they’re kinda enlightened. If there was any trouble, Robert would throw ’em out on their ear.”

Nate flushed. “And you… I mean… are you… where do you…”

Zeeb arched his eyebrows. “Where do I fit into that description?” Nate nodded, and he shrugged. “Me? I’m just a human being, doing his best to get along with everyone and be at peace with the world.” Okay, that was nothing but evasion, but Zeeb wasn’t going to go there. He hardly knew Nate after all.

And Nate’s doin’ his fair share of evading too.That“enough about me”comment was a clear signal.

“I know I claimed not to possess a single artistic bone in my body, but…” Zeeb pointed to the sketching pad. “Y’know, when I was a helluva lot younger, I used to sketch. Wrote stories too.”

Nate smiled. “Really?”

“Yeah. I had this shoe box where I kept everything I wrote.”

“Do you still have it?”

Zeeb’s stomach clenched. “Nope. I got no clue what happened to it.”

Except he knew exactly what had befallen his precious words.

Dad had found them.

Nate rested his pencil on the ledge that supported the pad, went over to his bag, and removed a smaller sketching pad and a pencil. He came over to Zeeb and held them out. “Here.”

Zeeb stared at the items. “You want me to draw?”

And when was the last time I did that?

“You don’t have to. It’s just an idea. Sure, it might take you a while to get back into it, but I guarantee you will. All that creativity? It’s still in there somewhere.” He smiled. “Go on. Give it a try.”

“Hey, I said I used to sketch. I didn’t say I was any good at it,” Zeeb remonstrated.

“Then now’s the time to improve.”

It was obvious Nate wasn’t going to back down.

And if I’m drawing, I’m not talking.

Yeah, maybe Nate had an ulterior motive.

Zeeb took the pencil and pad, sat on a flat rock, and gazed at the view.

Where do I start?

“If you don’t draw a line on that blank page, it’s going to sit there and taunt you.” Nate pointed to the far side of the lake. “Look at those trees, the way they’re reflected in the water. It’s such a peaceful scene. Make the surface of the water your horizon.”

Zeeb followed Nate’s finger. Then he coughed. “You just go back to your drawing. I can’t do this if I have an audience.”

“You’re right.” Nate retreated back to his easel, picked up his pencil, and resumed his sketching.

---