Work Text:
Another Monday. Another week of working at a job Ennis didn't enjoy.
Another week of life in a world where Jack no longer existed.
The closet door squeaked when he opened it. As it always did. He needed to oil the hinges, but he hadn't gotten around to it.
Breakfast, as always, was toast and coffee.
He shrugged his arms into the sleeves of his jacket and grabbed the battered hat from the nail by the door.
Then he was gone, leaving his desolate trailer behind.
If Ennis indulged in poetic thoughts, he might have added desolate, like my heart.
But his mind had never run along those lines. So he settled behind the wheel, the cold, hard mass in his chest settling with him. He carried it with him always; a constant since he'd made that call to Lureen, and perversely, almost a comfort now.
The engine coughed into life, and he drove to work.
Today would be like every other day. Ennis saw his future mapped out before him... page after page of a calendar where each month was a series of dull grey rectangles, with no dates circled in red. Nothing to look forward to.
If it hadn't been for his daughters, Ennis wondered if he'd even be here now. The fact this thought didn't shock him came as no surprise. Hadn't he crossed the line all those years ago? He was already marked as a sinner for eternity.
That's what Alma had said when she demanded a divorce. And he'd accepted the label, because sinning with Jack Twist was one of the few pleasures in his life.
And now he didn't even have that.
❖
Ennis hated his job at the feedlot— it was a newer, far larger outfit than he was used to, and the animals were penned up and unable to graze naturally. But at his age fewer options were open to him, so he closed his mind, did the work, and accepted his wages. Every day starting and ending in the same way.
He parked in front of his trailer, cut the engine, and stared unseeing through the windscreen for a long moment, before climbing from the cab wearily. More from habit than expectation, he flicked the flap of his mailbox as he approached the trailer.
It wasn't empty. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times that had happened since he'd moved here.
Can't be nothin' to do with Alma... that was all sorted out years ago.
He opened the box properly and peered at the envelope inside.
For an impossible few seconds he stared at it, pleading desperately to whoever may be listening that he might see Jack's looping script on the pale blue envelope. He hesitated to take it out— while it lay there, unexamined, he could pretend his desire might be fulfilled.
Ennis shook his head, angry at his futile thoughts. He snatched at the envelope and turned it over, staring at the neatly written address.
It wasn't handwriting he recognised. Not Junior's, not Jenny's... and of course, not Jack's. His trailer number was not shown, just his name and the name of the park.
With a frown, he closed the mailbox and opened the door to the trailer. He set the envelope on the cluttered table and removed his jacket and hat, before sitting heavily in a chair and picking it up. After studying the handwriting once more, he edged a finger under the sealed flap and tore it open. There was a single piece of folded paper inside.
Dear Mr del Mar,
It was very kind of you to call and offer your condolences after the news about Jack last year.
I don't know if he ever told you, his birthday was February 7th and it would have been his 40th this year. And this may seem silly, but I was going to make a cake... you didn't have any when you came before so perhaps you might like to drive up again, if it's not too much trouble?
I may be a fanciful old woman but it seemed as though there was a little piece of Jack here when you visited. But you must be a busy man with your own life to lead, so if it isn't convenient I understand.
Ennis gazed at the letter until the light faded from the sky and he could no longer discern the words. This was the second time a member of the Twist family had sent him correspondence without knowing his full address. It didn't mean anything, of course. Yet it seemed oddly appropriate, somehow.
He and Jack had never talked about birthdays, never celebrated them together. That was for the people who led normal lives with those they loved.
Weren't for the likes of us.
Unshed tears stung Ennis' eyes. He dropped the letter on the table and switched on the light, closing the flimsy curtains before resuming his seat. His initial reaction to Mrs Twist's invitation was to push it away. He didn't need more reminders of Jack... or more reminders of his absence. The shirts were all he needed.
His thoughts moved on to how he might respond if one of his daughters was no longer alive, and if a friend of hers came by. Would he want to see the friend again? Or would he reject them?
A little piece of Jack.
Mrs Twist had nothing. Not even a sympathetic partner to support her in her grief. She had lost her only son, and now Ennis wanted to deny her something which brought her a shred of comfort.
There's enough bad days as it is. Don't seem right to say no.
He peered at the bottom of the letter, where a sloping signature was followed by a telephone number.
He would drive to the phone booth tomorrow.
❖
"Mr del Mar, here you are! I'm so glad my letter reached you... come in, come in."
Helen Twist stepped back from the door and Ennis removed his hat. She took it from him and hung it on a nearby hook. A second hook alongside stood empty.
"I'm afraid my husband has been called away," she said, as she led the way into the kitchen. "He'll be sorry to have missed you."
Yeah, like hell he will.
Helen smiled at him over her shoulder, and Ennis saw the faint twinkle in her eye. He felt an infinite sadness for the slight woman, cooped up on a dilapidated ranch with a bitter man who held no love in his heart.
P'raps he's diff'rent when it's jus' the two of 'em.
Ennis somehow doubted it.
The cake was a chocolate one, with chocolate frosting. A single candle sat in the centre.
"Jack was always fond a chocolate cake," Helen said, her voice wistful.
Ennis swallowed. This was proving more difficult than he'd expected.
"Shall I light the candle?" He took out his lighter, and Helen's smile returned.
"Please, if you would. And—"
She broke off as the flame caught, the slim white candle burning brightly between them.
"I don't think I can sing Happy Birthday," she said. "P'raps you'd like to blow it out, and... make a wish."
Ennis looked at her, and an understanding passed from one to the other. He gave a small nod and leant in, extinguishing the flame with a single puff.
He made the wish, even though there was no point. Jack was not coming back, however much the two people sitting at the table wanted it.
After two cups of coffee and a large slice of cake, Ennis stepped out onto the back porch for a smoke. Helen joined him, standing a little way away.
"I can't abide the smell, Mr del Mar. I wouldn't let Jack smoke in the house when— when he was here."
"Sorry, ma'am, I'll put it out."
"No, no," she said hurriedly. "I just hope... well, you shouldn't have too many of those, you know."
"You're right... Jack used a— anyway," he added, "call me Ennis. Mr del Mar sounds like my pa."
She laughed, a soft chuckle which sounded as though it got little use. "You must call me Helen, then. Ma'am sounds like my grandma."
She laughed again, and Ennis joined in.
It felt— unfamiliar. He realised he hadn't laughed in a very long time.
"The ranch is lookin' fair... for the time a year," remarked Ennis.
Helen shifted from one foot to another, her hands fidgeting on the porch rail.
"Yes, well... John has been working hard," she said, in a voice which was suddenly uncertain. "And there's a neighbour..."
Ennis nodded. "Good, that's good. Jack said he wanted a try an' get things in better shape up here. He'd be pleased."
"He would," she said softly, and for a while they stood in silence as they gazed across to the mountains in the misty distance.
Ennis did not know what time John might return, and decided it would be preferable if he wasn't there when he did. He asked if he could use the bathroom and as he climbed the stairs, he felt the pull from Jack's old room. But he didn't open the door.
When he came down, Helen emerged from the kitchen holding a Tupperware box.
"Here's the rest a the cake." She held it out to him. "John don't like chocolate cake," she said in explanation.
"Thank you kindly, Helen. I'll enjoy this... you sure are a good cook."
"Any time you'd like to come up and eat with us, you'd be very welcome. It's done me a power a good seein' you, an' that's a fact."
"I'll be sure to ring, then." Ennis paused, biting his lip. "I weren't certain 'bout comin' at first," he confessed. "But... I'm glad I did. I just wish—"
She stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm. "I know, dear."
For a wild moment, Ennis was tempted to wrap his arms around her in a hug, and he sensed the familiar prickling behind his eyelids. He sniffed, and Helen patted his arm.
"You take care on the road, now. An' I hope we'll see you again soon."
He nodded, not trusting his voice. He took the plastic box to his truck and placed it carefully on the passenger seat, turning to wave to Helen who stood in the doorway, her arms hugging her body. She returned the wave and remained there as Ennis drove down the track away from the house.
❖
Ennis' doubts about the wisdom of visiting Lightning Flat resurfaced over the next few days. Surely it was better to leave all the reminders of that part of his life behind? Didn't every thing, every day, remind him of what he'd lost?
Then he recalled Helen's words the first time he'd driven up there. You come again.
Her expression when she'd handed him the shirts, neatly folded into a brown paper bag.
And her demeanour during his last trip, the way her face brightened as she spoke of her son.
Ain't right to deny her that. An' maybe this is my punishment... to never be able to let him go.
In a secret corner of his heart, Ennis knew he could never do that. If he never saw Lighting Flat again, never heard Jack's name spoken aloud... the memory of him would remain, and Ennis would continue to hold it to himself like a comforting blanket.
❖
So it was that two weeks later, he made the drive to Lightning Flat. John Twist was at home this time, and gave Ennis a long stare when Helen ushered him into the kitchen. Then he turned on his heel and stalked off, slamming the back door and stomping across to the barn, muttering as he went.
"Don't mind him." Helen pulled a chair out for Ennis to sit at the table. "Coffee, Ennis?"
Along with the coffee, Ennis enjoyed oatmeal cookies this time.
"I ain't had treats like this in a long while," he told her. "I surely do 'ppreciate it, an' I hope there's some left for your husband."
"He'll get his share," she said placidly. "Now then, there's something I wanted a show you."
Ennis raised an eyebrow, but she said no more, crossing the room to the dresser and crouching in front of it. She pulled something heavy from the low cupboard and straightened with a soft grunt, turning to the table with a large book in her hand.
"It's our family album. Haven't put any new ones in here for a while, but there's some old 'uns you might enjoy."
Ennis' eyes widened, and he shifted his chair so he could study the photos with her. She turned the pages, past faded sepia tinted pictures of various people dressed in old-fashioned clothes.
And then there was Jack.
Even though it was a black-and-white photo, Ennis imagined his blue eyes sparkling with delight as he held a black puppy up and grinned at the camera. Despite the lack of two front teeth, his smile was as wide as always.
Without thinking, Ennis touched a gentle forefinger to the image before snatching his hand back in embarrassment.
"Sorry, I don't—"
"It's quite alright, dear. He was a sweet child, it's true." She did not look at Ennis, and he blinked fiercely, before turning his attention to the following pages.
There were occasional pictures of ranch animals and one of a brown Plymouth station wagon, a younger John Twist standing with his hand on the roof and an almost-smile on his thin face.
But most were of Jack. Playing in the dirt, feeding a horse, petting a speckled chicken. As the Jack in the photos grew, and the pictures switched to colour, he was on horseback, then driving a tractor, then sitting astride a motorcycle.
"He had a motorbike? He never told me 'bout that." Ennis stared at the handsome young man, dark hair brushed back, wearing a black leather jacket.
"It wasn't his," chuckled Helen. "His pa wouldn't hear of him gettin' one a them infernal machines, as he put it. This belonged to a friend... I can't recall his name now."
Ennis felt a spiral of jealousy uncurl in his gut.
Really? You gone a be jealous of him bein' happy all them years ago?
"Prefer him on a horse," he said stiffly, and Helen turned the page.
"Me too. And look, here he is, mounted on Misty with a rodeo trophy he won. This was just before he went to Signal for the first time. The year before you met."
The rhythmic thwock, thwock of John Twist's axe splitting logs filtered into the quiet of the kitchen. Ennis did not hear it; he was waiting outside a trailer on a distant May morning, dusty boots scuffing the gravel, watching from beneath the brim of his hat as a battered pickup truck spluttered to a stop just yards away from him.
Helen rested a light hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Another coffee, dear?"
When Ennis took his leave some time later, Helen gave him an envelope. He took it, his forehead wrinkling in puzzlement.
"I thought you might like to take this one." She gazed up at him and smiled.
Before Ennis started the engine, he peered inside the envelope. A pair of smiling blue eyes greeted him as Jack held up his trophy proudly.
After a long moment, Ennis closed the envelope and placed it on the seat beside him, covering it safely with his hat. He rubbed his eyes and turned the ignition key, reversing the truck until he faced the drive. With a small smile on his face, he set off.
❖
The trip to Lightning Flat became a regular event. Every fortnight, except once when the snow thawed and the road was impassable, Ennis made the five-hour drive. It was a long day, yet he didn't resent the time or the money spent on gas. The visits gave his life a much needed structure, where his dreary job did not.
Often John Twist was absent. Whether this was his habit, or something he chose to do when he knew Ennis would be there, he wasn't sure. And didn't rightly care, neither.
Jack's mother reminded him strongly of his own, lost to him when he was in his teens. He was unsure if his memories were accurate, or if Helen simply filled the space in his life where a mother should be. Either way, they drew closer as the weeks passed. Ennis enjoyed hearing her anecdotes of Jack's childhood, and it was obvious she also found pleasure in telling them. He couldn't imagine her talking so freely with her husband.
He had spent some time with John, offering to help on one occasion when he was banging about the kitchen, complaining of the work involved in clearing the drainage ditches on the ranch. The old man had stopped, turning to stare at Ennis with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he jerked a thumb towards the back door and walked out. Ennis followed, glancing back at Helen, who gave him an encouraging smile.
The job was done, with little conversation other than John complaining about the soil, the weather, the neighbours... Ennis responded with noncommittal grunts, and he got the impression this satisfied John. As they returned to the house, Ennis was surprised when he remarked, "Yer a good worker, del Mar. I'll give you that."
High praise indeed. Ennis stifled a chuckle as he thought about what Jack's response might be to the situation.
Then he remembered— Jack wasn't here to share the joke.
Feeling despondent, Ennis climbed the shallow steps up to the porch and stood aside to allow John to enter.
"Go on in. I got a drive over to Ralph's." He marched round the corner of the house, leaving Ennis standing outside the back door scratching his head.
Helen opened the door and peered out. "Is John with you, dear?"
"He said he's goin' to Ralph's." Ennis slipped his muddy boots off and stepped inside. "An' I should get goin' soon, too."
"Time for a quick cup of coffee, though? An' I made an apple pie that's too big for us to eat ourselves."
Ennis grinned. "I'm gone a need bigger jeans, you feedin' me up like this."
She bustled about the kitchen, gathering bowls and spoons. "Can't have you wastin' away, Ennis. Jack wouldn't 'ppreciate it."
Ennis squinted at her as she stood at the counter making the coffee. Sometimes Helen spoke of her son as though he still lived here, and had merely stepped out of the room briefly. He hoped his visits weren't confusing her, somehow.
They ate the apple pie in silence. Ennis had not been joking earlier— he had filled out since he started visiting the ranch. He recalled how he teased Jack about his 'Texas belly', and how Jack had rushed at him and they had tussled on the ground. Before everything went wrong.
"I miss him too." Helen reached out and patted Ennis' hand. He jolted, startled, and gazed at her in silence.
"I remember when I knew for sure. About the type of person he was." She gave Ennis a small smile before continuing. "He must have been fifteen or sixteen, and there was a young lad working here for the summer. Jack was very taken with him, and— well, I'd wondered for a while, and when I saw them kissing in the barn... poor lamb, he was so flustered, worried I'd be angry—"
Her eyes glistened as she looked at Ennis. "So you see, I understand how much you feel it. I miss him as a mother, but you miss him as— something else. And it hurts."
The clock ticked steadily on the wall, and Ennis continued to stare at Helen. No words came, and he swallowed hard.
"No one knew," he whispered finally, his gaze dropping to his empty bowl. "Jack wanted— well, he wanted a normal life, an' I din't see how that would work. So we jus' got by, all them years..."
"I'm glad he met you, Ennis." Helen's voice was unsteady, and this time Ennis patted her hand where it rested on the table. "He would come here after each trip, an' there was a sadness to him, but— when he talked about you, his eyes would light up, an' he'd smile, an'— well, I loved you even though I din't know you. 'Cause you made my boy happy."
She gripped Ennis' fingers, pinching her trembling lips together. Ennis nodded, unsure of what to say. She nodded too, cocking her head on one side at the sound of an engine outside.
"Dear me, here's John back and I haven't started dinner." She jumped up and gathered the bowls, and Ennis carried the mugs to the sink.
"I'll be on my way, then." He paused. "Thank you, Helen. What you said— it means a lot to me."
"Ain't no more than the truth. Go on with you now, and we'll see you in a fortnight?"
"You surely will." Ennis hesitated, unsure whether he should leave by the back door or the front. John Twist decided for him, pushing open the back door with a jerk and holding it wide. He stood with one hand gripping the edge of the door and glanced briefly at Ennis.
"Del Mar."
"Goodbye, Helen. Goodbye, sir." Ennis jammed his hat on his head and strode out, the door closing behind him with a bang.
On the journey to Riverton, his thoughts strayed back to the ranch. He wondered, not for the first time, why Helen had stayed with John when there seemed little affection between them.
She's stronger than she looks.
Women of her generation had an inner fortitude and were raised to stand by their man. Ennis smiled grimly.
That's what I should a done.
He switched on the radio. Thoughts like that led nowhere good, and he had the road ahead to focus on.
❖
Ennis missed his next scheduled visit to Lightning Flat. They needed extra hands for the roundup, and he could surely use the money. He called to tell Helen and let the telephone ring for more than a minute, but no one picked up. With a shrug, he left the booth and walked back to his truck. He would call again when the job was completed, and explain.
There was no answer when he tried again at the end of the week.
Ennis replaced the receiver, leaning back against the glass wall of the booth. He stared unseeing into the street, until a sharp rap on the door from a woman outside jolted him from his reverie. He exited with a mumbled apology and returned to his truck.
He wasn't certain if he had the right to be concerned. It wasn't as though he was family.
Even if sometimes, it seemed like he was.
With a shake of his head, he decided to drive up straight away. They might both be ill, unable to get to the phone. He couldn't bear the thought of Jack's parents suffering because he hadn't bothered to check in on them.
It's the least I can do, since he ain't here to do it.
The drive was half an hour shorter than normal. Ennis was a careful driver but his concern urged him on, and in just over four and a half hours, his truck jolted to a halt outside the Twist residence.
He stared out at the house. It was quiet, but that was nothing unusual. He got out slowly, listening for signs of life.
All was still. The early afternoon sun warmed his face as he squinted up at the shabby facade. He was trying to decide whether to knock or go round the back, when the front door opened and Helen stepped out. Her lined face lit up as Ennis approached.
"Sorry for descendin' on you without warnin'... I rang but there weren't no answer—" Ennis tailed off. His reasoning sounded weak now he said it aloud.
"No, no... don't apologise. It's been— well, things are a bit— come in, an' I'll explain." She smoothed her apron and stood back. Ennis headed for the kitchen, but she caught his sleeve.
"Come into the parlour, dear. We can be comfortable there."
Ennis' forehead wrinkled at the suggestion they wouldn't be comfortable in the kitchen. This dingy room with its ancient furniture was John's domain, and he certainly wouldn't welcome Ennis into it.
There was no sign of John. The room seemed a little brighter, and Ennis noticed the colourful blanket draped over the sofa.
That ain't his style at all. Unless the old bastard has had a change of heart in his twilight years.
He sat down and Helen perched on the edge of an armchair, glancing back towards the hall. Her fingers plucked at the frill along the bottom of her apron, and she glanced at him, her face grave.
"The fact is— John passed away. Ten days ago now."
Whatever Ennis had expected, this was not it. He gaped at her calm face, before collecting himself to respond appropriately.
"Helen, I'm sorry. If I'd a known... I shouldn't even be here, when you're—" He got to his feet but Helen was quicker, nudging him back with an urgent gesture.
"No, no... I'm glad you came. It means— well, we'll get to that." She eyed him, a speculative expression on her face. "The funeral was last Thursday. Not so many mourners, but I weren't surprised. John always made enemies easier than he made friends."
"How—? I mean, I thought you might be ill. That's why I drove up." Ennis was struggling to take in what had happened. Helen seemed outwardly calm, yet there was a nervousness to her movements.
"It was his heart. He would insist on tryin' to do everythin' himself, and it got too much for him in the end."
Ennis suddenly realised he still wore his hat. He took it off, clutching at the brim as it almost fell to the floor.
"Ma'am, I'm right sorry. You was married a long time."
She smiled sadly. "We were, an' it wasn't always easy, as you can imagine. John was... he was a difficult man to like. He had his good points, but he hid them well." She gave a small chuckle, and Ennis smiled.
"Best a remember the good times, then. But—" he stopped, wondering if he should continue.
"What about this place?" She finished.
Ennis nodded. "I'm more'n happy to help out when I can. Only it needs more than that."
Helen glanced at the door into the hall before her gaze flicked back to Ennis. She folded her hands in her lap and sat a little straighter.
"Thank you, Ennis dear. Now then, I need a tell you— you're gone a meet someone now, an' it'll be a shock. But it's time."
Ennis opened his mouth, yet he had no idea what question he should be asking. He watched Helen walk briskly from the room and heard her muffled voice in the kitchen. Then she returned, moving to stand at the far end of the sofa as someone followed her from the hall.
Ennis went rigid. A coldness washed through him, more chilling than any plunge into a glacial mountain river. He stared up at the newcomer, his mouth working.
The tall man stood hesitantly in the doorway. His dark hair flopped forward onto his forehead, and a moustache and short beard hid most of his lower face. But the blue eyes which watched Ennis anxiously could only belong to one person.
"Jack?" Ennis' whisper fell into the silent room. He struggled to his feet, nausea threatening to overcome him. He took an unsteady step and in an instant Jack was there, arms supporting him as his knees buckled.
"Yep." Jack's smile was more lopsided than Ennis remembered, and from close quarters he could see traces of scarring on his cheeks. He raised one hand, touching his face with trembling fingers, whilst the other clutched at Jack's shirt.
"I don't— I can't— Jack. You're s'posed to be—" Ennis stood back, swallowing the lump rising in his throat. "How are you—"
Helen stepped forward and laid a hand on Ennis' shoulder.
"Let me make some coffee, an' Jack can explain."
Jack gazed at Ennis, finding his hands and holding them to his chest. He kissed the knuckles softly. "It's okay, bud. You ain't goin' mad. Come into the kitchen, an' we can talk."
Ennis sat at the table, with coffee and a chocolate cookie on a plate in front of him. His gaze travelled between Helen and Jack repeatedly as he endeavoured to make sense of what was happening.
"I've been here for months," Jack began. "Couldn't tell no-one... not even you, Ennis. I was so scared they might—"
"Perhaps you should start at the beginning," said Helen gently. She gave Ennis a sympathetic look. "It's a lot to take in, dear. But it's all good! We have our Jack here, thank the Lord."
Jack shifted in his seat. "It was LD," he began. "Got me to stay late runnin' figures for him... Lureen'd normally do that, but she an' Bobby was visitin' her cousin's family. Him an' me don't get on, so I din't go." He smiled grimly. "LD, the ol' bastard—sorry Ma—set it all up. Three goons jumped me when I left work, started roughin' me up in the lot behind the dealership. I tried a fight 'em, but—" his voice faltered, and Ennis placed a hand over his and squeezed.
Jack swallowed hard and continued.
"One of 'em mentioned Newsome's name... they were tough but none too bright. An' my luck was in, 'cause the security light came on just as a patrol car went by, an' they got spooked. Got in a few more kicks an' made off."
He fell silent, his free hand rubbing his side.
Ennis' expression was grim. "Them fuckin' bastards—beggin' your pardon, Helen—I hope you reported 'em. An' Newsome too."
Jack shook his head. "I got myself home an' cleaned up, an' got to thinkin'." He glanced at Ennis. "You remember I told you how he'd always hated me... never wanted Lureen an' me to marry, always pushin' into our lives an' tellin' me how to be... she never saw it like I did. Guess she was okay with being Daddy's precious angel." His voice was bitter, an ugly frown on his face.
"Yeah, but—"
"Thing is, Ennis... if he jus' wanted me gone, he could a paid me to leave... or get his hoods to warn me off or somethin'. But they din't say that, an' I reckon they'd a killed me if they weren't scared off."
Helen gave a sharp intake of breath. "Please don't say that, Jack... it makes my blood run cold."
"Makes my blood boil," growled Ennis. "Still reckon you should a gone to the police, bud."
Jack shrugged. "For all I know, he's got them in his pocket. Man jus' loves bein' cock a the walk. I din't want a take the risk."
Helen patted his hand. "So you came home."
Jack offered his mother a grateful smile. "An' I been here ever since."
An angry sob bubbled up in Ennis' chest.
"An' you never thought a tell me, huh? Jack, I been like a zombie since I got the news." He withdrew his hand, pressing a curled fist to his mouth.
Jack looked at him, his eyes bright. "I wanted to, Ennis. But them guys from Texas might a got wind of it... they might a gone to Riverton—"
They stared at each other, and Ennis could see Jack finally understood how it had been for him, for so many years.
"Seems like we ain't done such a good job a keepin' you safe," said Ennis. "I never would a expected Newsome to try that, though."
"Huh, if you asked him he'd deny it all, a course. He gets others to do his dirty work."
Ennis huffed out a long sigh and picked up his mug. "This is like somethin' out a one a them thriller books you read," he said.
Jack managed a wobbly laugh. "Yeah, they ain't my favourite any more."
Ennis had a sudden thought. "Jack, I'm right sorry 'bout your pa."
Jack snorted. "I'm only sorry 'cause of Ma. Yeah, I know," he said, glancing at his mother. "But he never liked me, Ma. We was jus' too diff'rent."
"I know, dear. But he still hated the thought there might be people who wanted you dead. That's why we had to keep this secret."
"Huh, you sure it weren't 'cause I'm queer? He was ashamed a me, is all."
Ennis flinched at Jack's words, and Helen pinched her lips.
"He was very old-fashioned, Jack. He didn't understand who you were."
Jack's shoulders sagged. "Too late now, anyway. I wish— but there's no point. 'S just us three now."
"Yes, it is. Would you like another cookie, Ennis?"
The sun was dipping into the west, and the shadow of the ranch house stretched back to the pastures. Jack and Ennis leant on the split-rail fence and looked back towards the porch, where Helen sat with her knitting. Chickens pecked and scratched in the dirt, and a skein of geese flew overhead. Despite the turmoil and revelations of the day, Ennis found a contentment he hadn't had for many months.
"But your family, Jack. Don't they deserve to be told you're okay?"
Jack turned to rest his elbows on the top rail. He chewed on a dried grass stalk for a moment before answering.
"Thought long an' hard about that. I got no idea what they think happened... Lureen rang here once and Ma said they hadn't seen me. Ain't heard nothin' since." He spat the stalk to the ground. "I feel bad about Bobby... maybe I'll get in touch with him when he's older. It jus' seems like that whole part a my life was bad luck, you know?"
He turned to face Ennis, whose frown was back. "But you're still married an' all... I ain't certain how this works," he said. "Do you even exist any more, rodeo?"
Jack sidled close and slid an arm round Ennis' waist. After an alarmed glance at the house confirmed Helen was not looking, Ennis allowed Jack to kiss the corner of his mouth. It took all his resolve to stop himself from sinking into Jack's embrace.
It had been so long.
"Reckon I'm here... all a me," Jack grinned against Ennis' cheek, pressing into his hip. "If you get me."
Ennis permitted himself a moment of closeness before pulling away.
"You might look a bit different, but you're the same ol' Jack Twist for sure." He raised a hand and stroked Jack's beard. "That's gone a tickle," he said seriously.
Jack stared, then burst out laughing. "It surely will... an' I hope it won't be too long 'fore you find out."
Helen made a bed up for Ennis in one of the spare bedrooms. It consisted of two bedrolls and a sleeping bag, which Ennis assured her would be more than comfortable.
"I don't want a impose on you, but what with one thing an' another, I ain't keen on drivin' back this late."
Jack grinned at Ennis from behind Helen, whose lips twitched as she wrestled the pillow into a pillowcase.
"I'm sure you're used a sleepin' in all kinds a places," she remarked. "Jus' remember, Jack... some a these floorboards squeak somethin' fierce."
Before they could react to her words, she bid them goodnight, leaving them standing either side of the makeshift bed staring at each other.
"Your ma— she knows all about us, an' she's okay with it?"
"Reckon so... she was cut up 'bout you not knowin' I was here. She wanted a tell you, but my pa wouldn't have it."
Ennis stepped around the bedroll and drew Jack into a hug. "He did right, for once in his life. Important no-one knew where you were, Jack. We still got a be careful... that beard ain't enough of a disguise if those thugs get wind a you livin' here."
Jack cupped the back of Ennis' head, his fingers slipping through the curls at the nape of his neck. He touched his forehead to Ennis' and sighed softly.
"You're right, an' we've had some thoughts 'bout that. But they can wait 'til tomorrow. Right now I got somethin' else in mind."
Ennis drew back, casting a worried look towards the closed door. "We can't do nothin'! Your ma—"
"Is in the bedroom furthest away... an' she sleeps with earplugs on account a my pa snored like a pig. She made a point a tellin' me earlier she's so used a it, she can't sleep without 'em now."
Ennis felt a wash of warmth through his body. "She knows... she knows what we do? Christ, Jack..."
Jack chuckled, his voice low. "She's been round farm animals all her life. She's seen all sorts... don't think on it. She likes you, Ennis."
Ennis chewed his lip, his hands still resting on Jack's hips. "She said some real kind things to me. I like her, Jack."
"Good. An' I will sleep in my own bedroom... but I want a stay here a bit with you. It's been a while, cowboy."
Ennis gave in to the yearning he'd carried with him for almost a year. He kissed Jack hungrily as their fingers battled with buckles and buttons, clothes dragged off frantically until there was only skin between them.
"Lie down." Jack pushed Ennis onto the bedroll and climbed on top of him, elbows braced either side of his head. Their bodies slotted together in a comfortable remembrance of all they'd shared before, and Ennis whimpered as Jack ground against him.
"We still got a be quiet, Jack." His urgent whisper was muffled as Jack pressed soft kisses to his face, lips relearning the line of his jaw and the shape of his mouth.
"I can be quiet when it's worth it. An' this is worth it." Jack's kisses became sloppier as he pushed against Ennis, giving no ground as Ennis' hips bucked under him.
Ennis closed his eyes, banishing all memory of the long months now behind him, and gave himself up to the mounting waves of desire. He bit into Jack's shoulder, breath faltering, as the end came with Jack shuddering against him, murmuring Ennis into his hair.
Jack peeled himself away, his body heavy and sated in the best way, and nudged Ennis. The room was enveloped in darkness, and he yawned blearily.
Must a dozed off... an' Ennis too.
As Ennis blinked into a semblance of wakefulness, he wondered how he could have fallen asleep with Jack sprawled across him. But it didn't matter, as it meant they were together again.
Even if we are sticky as hell.
He smiled sleepily up at Jack, who was trying his best to clean them up with his shirt.
"Ain't you a sight for sore eyes." He yawned. "An' now you got a go to yer own bed, I guess."
Jack scrunched up the shirt into a sticky ball. "Best had. Ma is a treasure, an' I don't want a take advantage."
Ennis agreed, propping himself on one elbow to pull Jack into a lingering kiss. Then he flopped back, yawning widely.
"You wake me up in the mornin', yeah? I'll help out with what needs doin'."
"Sounds good." Jack pressed a final kiss to his lips. "'Night, Ennis."
"G'night." Ennis was already drifting, and Jack stood for a moment listening to his soft breathing, before letting himself out quietly and padding across the landing to his room opposite.
❖
When Jack tapped on his door the next morning, Ennis was already awake, and wishing he'd thought to bring a change of clothes. The enticing aroma of frying bacon greeted him when he emerged from sleep, and he would have preferred to face Helen in clothes slightly less crumpled and musty than these.
"You look fine, Ennis. We ain't goin' to a party."
"Huh, well..." Ennis was finding it difficult to maintain any level of vexation at his appearance. His heart was too content, and seeing Jack standing in the doorway chased away any lingering doubts about their situation.
Jack strode into the room and pulled Ennis into a fierce embrace.
"Mornin', cowboy," he whispered.
Ennis, after the briefest resistance, returned the hug. The thought crossed his mind that if life was kind, those words could be the first he heard every morning.
The smell of bacon grew stronger, and Ennis shook Jack off.
"I'm powerful hungry, bud. How 'bout some breakfast?"
After second helpings of everything on offer, the two men prepared to go outside. Jack wanted to show Ennis the spread.
"You jus' be careful, Jack. Don't go near the road."
"I'll be fine, Ma. We'll go prepared... Ennis here is a crack shot."
"Is he now?" Helen scooted them towards the door. "You go, then. Give me some peace to clean this kitchen."
Ennis glanced back as they left, thinking about the clutter in his trailer in Riverton. He was thankful Helen would never see his usual living arrangements.
"I got a see 'bout my job, Jack. I kind a took off all of a sudden yesterday, an' I'm due back in on Monday."
"You likin' the job?" Jack's artless query drew a smile from Ennis. He was aware what Jack was really asking.
"Pays the rent. Buys me food... though not as good as what your ma serves up." He sighed. "I get what you're sayin', rodeo. But I dunno... I can't see what comes next. If Newsome's still after you—"
"I don't give a shit about that bastard." Jack pushed open the barn door violently, and Ennis caught it before it crashed back against the wall. Then he grabbed Jack's arm, pulling him about to face him.
"I know you're mad at him, Jack... an' you're right a be. Don't go wreckin' the barn, though."
Jack's shoulders relaxed, and he gave Ennis a reluctant grin.
"Can't even stay angry when I see you, Ennis."
Ennis decided now was not the time to remind Jack of the blazing rows they'd had in the past. He was about to speak, when Jack's face brightened and he pulled Ennis further into the barn.
"Let's saddle up an' have a look round. We got two horses, but—" He picked up a bucket with some oats in it. "Belle belonged to Pa, an' she's always been cranky with anyone who ain't him. I swear he loved that horse more'n any human."
Ennis followed him, collecting a second bucket and coming to a halt before two stalls further along. Jack leant into the first one, laughing as a handsome dappled horse nuzzled at him.
"Hi, Oreo. This what you're after?" He shook the bucket and the horse whickered eagerly.
Ennis moved on to the next stall, stopping to watch the mare within. She eyed him and shook her head, one hoof stamping on the ground.
"Well now, that's not too friendly." Ennis stepped forward and put his bucket down, before resting one hand on the door opening and beginning to speak in a soft voice. Jack couldn't hear what he said, but after a minute Belle moved forward and brought her face close to Ennis. He ran his hand down her neck in smooth strokes, then picked up the bucket and offered it to the mare, who hesitated and then began to eat.
"She generally kicks up a fuss when I try to be nice... you sure got a way with horses, Ennis."
Ennis shrugged. "Prefer 'em to people, mostly. Present company excepted," he grinned, as Jack was about to protest.
"An' Ma too, a course." Jack crossed to the far wall and took down the tack they needed.
"That goes without sayin'. She's a sweetheart, your ma."
They got the horses ready and led them outside. Jack mounted easily and walked on a few paces, looking back to where Ennis was coaxing Belle to stand still. She tossed her head but stopped moving, and he mounted with little difficulty.
"She ain't had a good run out since Pa died; she's prob'ly a bit lively."
The mare was dancing from side to side, but in a half-hearted way. Ennis leant over her neck and spoke soothingly in her ear.
"She'll be fine," he said as he sat up. "She's missed him, that's all."
"Only one round here who does," muttered Jack. Then he squared his shoulders and turned Oreo towards the pastures. "Let's go, cowboy."
The circuit of the ranch took until mid-morning. Belle was initially skittish, tossing her head and attempting to find her own route. But Ennis persisted, gently yet firmly, and by the time they were on the homeward stretch, she trotted meekly alongside Oreo.
"Sure got your work cut out here, bud." Ennis' practiced eye had taken in the sparseness of the grazing, the dilapidated buildings, and the sorry state of some of the beasts. Despite his time occasionally helping John, he hadn't realised the extent of the neglect.
"Don't I know it. An' this is where I play my trump card." He grinned at Ennis' puzzled expression. "Iowa!" he proclaimed dramatically.
"Uh..."
"Me an' Ma have been talkin'... she's got a sister in Iowa, an' apparently there's plenty a jobs for people with ranch experience. Possibility a gettin' a small place of our own, an'—"
"Jack." Ennis didn't want to dampen his exuberance, but as always, he wondered how much he'd thought the plan through. "I ain't exactly blessed with a lot by way of capital, bud. An' if we're honest— you ain't gone a get a top price for this place, if you try an' sell."
Jack half turned in his saddle, his face creased into a wide smile. "But you ain't heard the best of it! There's money from my Uncle Harold... you remember I mentioned him? He died a few years ago, an' left his spread to me. Well, it's sold now, an' there's money in the bank. Plenty of it, too." He stretched out an arm and clapped Ennis' shoulder. "So, if you're interested..."
Despite his reservations, Ennis found he was catching Jack's enthusiasm.
Have we really got a chance? After all this time?
They were almost back at the yard. Jack looked at him, eyes gleaming with excitement. Ennis grinned.
"If it means I get to see your ugly mug every day, you can count me in."
"Hey! You better not mean that," grumbled Jack.
Ennis dismounted and patted Belle's neck. "Good girl," he murmured, before glancing over at Jack. His gaze shifted back to the mare, and his voice was low when he spoke.
"You know you're the finest feller I ever saw, rodeo. Ain't no better sight than you, any time a day."
Jack looked down at him, his smile wide.
"Ennis, I can surely stand a hear more a that. I love you, y'know."
Ennis made an incoherent sound, his face reddening. "Yeah, me too," he mumbled as he removed Belle's saddle.
He didn't see Jack's look of surprise, or the glistening in his eyes, as he turned away to hang up the saddle.
Over dinner, they discussed the finer points of Jack's plan.
"My sister's lived in Iowa ever since she married. We visited once, but I haven't seen Annie in a long time. Her husband passed some years ago, an' when I rang to tell her about John... well, we got talkin', and she invited me to go live with her. So I was tellin' Jack—"
"And it all started a fall into place," continued Jack, looking from his mother to Ennis. "There's all kinds a opportunities up there, Ennis. An' they're more... relaxed, 'bout people like... people like us." He flushed as he fell silent.
Helen patted Jack's hand, and Ennis swallowed painfully. It seemed his private life was private no longer. It would take some getting used to.
"Well, cowboy? What d'you reckon?" Jack faltered at Ennis' expression. "You're thinkin' a your girls, but— they could come up an' stay. There's flights an' suchlike."
Ennis gazed at Jack. Of course, there would be significant changes to make if they were to set up home together, and one part of Ennis' brain still insisted this was a pipe-dream. A foolish fantasy which had no foundation in practicalities.
Then he looked into Jack's face. The boyish appeal had aged to a more mature charm, his face fuller yet his eyes still bluer than the sky over the mountain where they had begun.
"Reckon we could look into it. You sure can't stay round here, Jack. Ain't safe."
Jack jumped to his feet and rounded the table, pulling Ennis to standing. He hugged him mightily while Helen regarded them with an indulgent smile.
"You boys want a coffee 'fore you go back out?"
Jack loosened his grip on Ennis and dragged his mother into the hug. She came, laughing, and was engulfed by the two men. Ennis followed Jack's lead, simultaneously embarrassed and entertained by his behaviour.
"Come on now, Jack. Yer can't be crushin' yer own mother," he grinned, his face flushed.
Helen squeaked in agreement, and they stood back to allow her to extricate herself. She smoothed her hair and regarded them, her eyes twinkling.
"Are you grown men, or boys? I'm beginnin' to wonder," she laughed.
"Sorry, Ma." Jack ran a hand through his hair, a sheepish expression on his face. "I ain't never been so happy, is all."
Ennis flicked Jack a glance before staring at the wall behind him. He had never experienced such a tumult of differing emotions as he had these last few days, and his feet itched to carry him outside. He needed space, and fresh air, and a horse beneath him. Then he would finally be able to process all that had happened.
At the end of a long day, Helen retired early. Before she went upstairs, she remarked that they must have spent many nights sleeping alongside each other under canvas. The two men exchanged a glance before agreeing, and she smiled.
"Well, then. There's no tent here, but..."
And with that, she climbed the stairs slowly, the worn treads creaking beneath her feet.
They stood in silence, staring after her.
"Did she mean what I think she meant?"
"She knows what's what, my ma. Tell you somethin', she's a lot more chatty now my ol' man ain't here to talk her down all the time."
Ennis stepped towards Jack and brushed the back of his hand. "So if it's okay with her—"
"We can sleep together. Might not be the ideal bed, but—"
"It'll be better than nothin'," Ennis finished.
They grappled with the mattress from Jack's room and lay it next to Ennis' double thickness of bedroll. With several blankets layered on top, the join was barely noticeable.
Jack stretched out on it, rolling from side to side. "This'll do jus' right, I reckon."
Ennis stood, hands on hips, looking down at him. The memory of the previous night teased at him, and he wondered if they dare take it further. He crouched beside the mattress and rested a hand on Jack's stomach.
"How quiet can you be, rodeo?" He slid a finger between two buttons and traced a fingertip around Jack's navel.
Jack moaned softly, before pressing a fist to his mouth. Ennis grinned and popped one of the buttons to slip his hand inside. His fingers tickled at the dark hair which led downwards and Jack sucked in his stomach, allowing Ennis' hand to explore further.
"Fuck me, Ennis..." Jack was squirming now, desperate for more.
"I could, if you like." Ennis drew his hand out, pulling Jack's shirt open with a sudden movement. He knelt down, leaning forward to lick a stripe from Jack's navel to his nipple. He finished with a teasing flick of his tongue, and Jack gasped, his fingers pushing into Ennis' hair.
"I like," he murmured.
The bed barely survived, and afterwards Jack dragged the mattress and bedroll back together while Ennis used the bathroom. When he'd taken his turn he returned to the spare bedroom to find Ennis yawning widely. Jack slipped in beside him, cuddling up as Ennis slid an arm about him. Ennis pressed a kiss into his hair as he wriggled down.
"It's rough you got a leave your home, Jack."
"Yeah, well... this place don't have so many good memories for me, thanks to my pa. Wherever we end up, if you an' Ma are there, that'll be home enough for me."
Ennis held him tightly, and Jack relaxed into him. He stifled a yawn against Ennis' chest.
"An' you're certain no-one knows you're here?"
"Reckon they'd a come for me if they did. Turns out my pa bein' a curmudgeonly ol' so-and-so was a blessin'... never had any visitors without an invitation, so there's been no-one to see me." Jack shifted a little, before adding, "I stayed inside for the first few weeks, an' ain't been outside too much since. Helped Pa with a few jobs what needed doin'. An' that's it."
Ennis ran a hand up and down Jack's arm.
"What about your wife, though? Don't you got a tell her? Once we're away from here?"
Jack sighed. "I don't want a risk it, bud. I reckon them thugs will a told LD they done the job, an' I took precious little from the house. Left my truck at the dealership an' hitched up here. Far as everyone knows, I'm missin', presumed dead. Best if it stays that way."
Ennis was silent. He recalled Lureen's toneless voice when they'd spoken on the phone, and wondered if she knew more than she said. With a mental shake, he gave it up. This was a knot too tightly entangled, and best left unpicked, at least for now.
Another thought occurred to him.
"Jack, as long as you got your name, they could trace you. You gone a change it?"
Jack twisted his head to squint up at Ennis. "Ma said the same thing, and it got me thinkin'. There's plenty a Jacks around, an' I don't know as I'd want a change that, but I reckon del Mar might be a good surname. What d'you reckon, bud?"
Jack del Mar.
A warmth spread through Ennis' chest. "Yeah, I reckon I can live with that."
Jack snuggled closer, pressing a kiss to Ennis' cheek.
"Then it's Iowa, here we come!"
Ennis lay awake for some while after Jack had fallen asleep. Their makeshift bed was none too comfortable, but he had no intention of moving.
His life had altered beyond recognition from only two days ago. Ennis did not welcome rapid change, but he thought in this case he might make an exception.
Against all the odds, he and Jack were reunited. If he'd never believed in miracles before, this was starting to seem like one.
Just got a take it steady. Newsome's still out there.
The arm draped around Jack's waist hugged a little tighter. He'd lost Jack once; he was damned sure it wasn't going to happen again.
Whatever the future in Iowa brought, he and Jack would meet it together. It was all Jack had ever wanted, and at last, Ennis could help make it happen.
His tiredness finally overtook him, and he slept.
When Helen awoke the next morning, the house was quiet. She passed Jack's room on her way downstairs and peeked in through the partially open door. The empty bed frame did not surprise her.
With a small smile, she trod carefully down the stairs to start breakfast.