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"We got a make the most a this, Ennis. Three days ain't much." Jack watched as Ennis dropped an armful of dry wood beside the newly erected tent.
Ennis dusted his hands on his jeans and looked at Jack.
"I'm right sorry it couldn't be longer... but like I said, we got a move the stock an' there's two men off sick. Din't reckon I could say no when the boss asked."
Jack rounded the tent and hugged Ennis briefly. "You're a good worker, bud. That ain't nothin' to be sorry for." He sighed as he turned away. "Be better if you was workin' fer yourself, though. Still—" he shrugged, not wishing to have that conversation again.
There was silence behind him, and Jack feared he'd said too much.
Damn my stupid mouth, sayin' the wrong thing an' spoilin' our time 'fore we've even started.
Ennis stood, hands on hips, regarding Jack's rigid posture. He held back the retort which he was about to make and moved towards Jack.
"P'raps one day I will," he said, sliding his arms round Jack's middle. "'Til then I got a put up with it, ain't I, huh?"
Jack folded his arms over Ennis' and rested his head back against Ennis' cheek. "Guess so."
They stood for a few moments, then Ennis kissed the edge of Jack's ear and disentangled his arms. "Come on, rodeo. Like you said... we got a make the most of it."
Jack mentally shook himself and turned back to Ennis. He cupped his face and leant in for a determined kiss. "You got it, bud. I'll get a fire goin'."
The first evening back together was always different to the following days, when they slipped easily into the familiar camaraderie they enjoyed on Brokeback Mountain. There was a tension, faint yet discernible. A veil between them— gossamer-thin, yet separating them as much as the months apart did. It took a while to dismantle the imperceptible barrier, and with a shorter trip, both men were keen to ensure their time together was put to good use. So, after a satisfying meal of chilli and potatoes, washed down with several bottles of beer, they retired to the tent and made the most of Jack's new bedroll before falling asleep, spent and fulfilled.
❖
Ennis woke early the following morning, as was his custom. The concept of a lie-in was unknown to him; long days at work and two small children guaranteed it. So he did not rouse Jack, but sank back into the curve of his body, luxuriating in the comfort of warm skin on skin, a heavy hand on his hip, and a stubbled jaw resting against his shoulder. In his weaker moments, Ennis acknowledged this was what he wanted, if the choice was his. Yet fate dictated otherwise. He had a family to provide for, daughters to help raise, and vows he'd made several years ago when he'd denied the truth of his desires.
A few days at intervals throughout the year were all he could allow. Whatever Jack said, there was no other way for them.
"Mmm..." Lips nuzzled the nape of Ennis' neck as Jack woke up. "Mornin', cowboy."
Ennis took Jack's hand and held it to his chest. He wriggled his hips back a little, grinning as Jack pressed into him.
"Mornin', Jack. You'll be wantin' breakfast, I'm guessin'."
Jack levered himself onto one elbow and peered over Ennis' shoulder. "I can wait fer a bit, if you're willin'."
Ennis rolled onto his back and Jack shifted to make room, slotting a leg between Ennis' and pushing against his thigh.
"I'm willin'," grunted Ennis as he slid a hand under Jack and pulled him bodily to lie on top of him, revelling in his weight and his musky scent and the firmness of his muscles. "Breakfast can wait."
"Fuckin' hell, Ennis." Jack rolled off him, panting heavily. He flopped onto his back, wincing at the tenderness of his ass, yet regretting not one moment of what had gone before.
Ennis let out a long breath, shivering involuntarily at the coolness on his skin. He groped for a discarded t-shirt and rubbed at his chest until it was dry enough, before shifting onto his side to gaze at Jack's serene face.
"You got an appetite fer breakfast now?"
Jack blinked one eye open. "In a minute... got a catch my breath here." He grinned as he squinted sideways at Ennis. "You sure know how to show a fella a good time, bud."
Ennis' lips pinched. He mumbled something Jack didn't catch, before dropping a kiss on his shoulder. "Good fer me too. An' now I'm powerful hungry."
Jack stretched his arms above his head and yawned widely.
"Let's have us some vittles, then."
Once they'd eaten their fill, Ennis saddled the horses while Jack tidied up. He gathered the fishing gear and strolled over to Ennis, raising the creel case with a grin.
"This actually gone a see the light a day this time?"
Ennis' smile was half-hearted. Part of him always felt ashamed of the lies he told his wife.
But if you din't, you wouldn't have this.
And the larger part of him knew how bleak his life would be if that were so.
His smile widened as Jack looked up from stowing the fishing gear.
"Heard there was good fishin' to be had in this here lake. We can catch ourselves a tasty supper."
"You said it." Jack fastened the last buckle. "Reckon we're ready to go here, friend."
The sun climbed higher as the horses made their steady way through the trees lining the trail which led to the lake. When they emerged from the shade of the overhanging branches, Ennis raised his face to the sky, his eyes narrowing against the sudden glare.
"Gone a be a hot one, Jack. Fish'll prob'ly stay in deeper water, d'you think?"
Jack shrugged. "Ain't sure what fish do, if I'm honest. You're the expert here, Ennis."
"You reckon?" Ennis dismounted and led his horse to a nearby patch of shade. "We'll jus' have to give it a go."
An hour later, it seemed their evening meal would be a light one. Jack had caught one small grayling, while Ennis had no luck at all.
"We're gone a have to wade in a bit, so we can cast out further." Ennis set down his rod and pulled off his boots and socks.
Jack watched as he shucked off his jeans. "Y'know, there's more interestin' stuff than fishin' you can do with yer pants off." He grinned at Ennis' mildly exasperated expression.
"If you want a eat later, we got a catch some fish first. If yer lucky—"
Jack followed Ennis' example and stripped off his lower clothes. "I'm sure feelin' lucky, Ennis. Jus' bein' here with you..." He tailed off, the words he wanted to say not reaching his lips.
Ennis regarded him quizzically, and Jack waved a hand vaguely. "It's good to get away."
Ennis nodded. "It surely is... now then, where are these goddamn fish?"
They ventured into the lake, inhaling sharply as the chill of the water struck their skin.
"Thought it'd be warmer than this," Jack grumbled.
Ennis threw him an amused glance. "That easy life in Texas makin' you soft, huh?"
"Somethin' like that," muttered Jack. He came to a halt and moved a few yards away from Ennis. "Come on, then... let's catch us some supper."
Another hour passed, with more success for both fishermen. When five brown trout were laid out on the grass waiting to be cleaned, Ennis declared they had enough.
"If you sort out the rods an' such, I'll get these gutted."
"Dry yourself off first, cowboy." Jack tossed a towel to Ennis and started to rub himself down with another. "Lucky I brung these," he remarked.
Ennis peeled off his wet shorts and began to dry his legs. Jack's movements slowed as he watched Ennis rubbing the towel up and down his thighs.
"Ennis," he croaked, taking a step forward. "Them fish can wait."
Ennis looked up, his eyes travelling the length of Jack's body. A slow smile curved his mouth.
"Reckon they can." He dropped his towel and moved towards Jack.
The sun passed its midday peak as they finally got dressed. Jack picked a dried leaf from Ennis' tangled hair and attempted to smooth it a little.
"Give it up, rodeo. It needs cuttin', but I din't—" Ennis stopped, blushing. He looked away and continued to fasten his shirt.
"You din't what?" Jack tugged at Ennis' shoulder and turned him to face him. He smirked at Ennis' flushed cheeks.
Ennis shot him an aggrieved look and dropped his gaze. "Din't want a cut it 'fore we met up. Know you like it longer," he muttered.
Jack gave a whoop of laughter and caught Ennis in a mighty hug.
"Ennis del Mar, I knew you could be a soft bastard if you tried hard enough."
"Hmph. I won't go makin' a habit of it," Ennis responded. He returned the hug before extricating himself. "An' I got a see to these fish now."
Jack let him go, watching as Ennis took a gutting knife from the creel case and began, nimble fingers making short work of their catch. After a moment he lit a cigarette, crouching and holding it to Ennis' lips so he could share it. He took it back and inhaled the smoke deeply, staring across the lake without seeing it.
"Remember the first time we shared a smoke on Brokeback," Ennis said suddenly. He squinted at Jack before returning to his task. "Got me thinkin'. 'Bout you."
"How d'you mean?" Jack held the cigarette out again and Ennis' lips closed over it. Jack's fingers brushed his mouth, and he felt a stirring in his abdomen. He glanced at Ennis. "That was a while ago, friend. An' you remember it?"
Ennis nodded. "Yep. 'Cause I ain't never seen a guy do that before... not with another guy. Leastways—" He broke off, his face reddening. "Not the way you done it."
Jack leant closer and nudged shoulders with him. "I wanted a see how you'd react. See if I had a chance." His voice dropped as he added, "You was an enigma, Ennis. Din't know what a make a you, at first. You could a punched me if I got it wrong. But I reckoned it was worth a shot."
Ennis dropped the last fish and gave Jack a sidelong look. "You still think it is? Worth it?"
Jack sat back on his heels and gazed at Ennis, his eyebrows raised. "Hell, yeah. Ev'ry minute." They regarded each other in silence, then Ennis stood up.
"Got a wash my hands," he said, picking up the knife and walking to the lake's edge.
Jack gathered their belongings and stowed the fish safely. Ennis returned and they untethered the horses, mounting and making their leisurely way up the slope and into the trees.
"We can take the long way back... ain't no hurry, is there, bud?" Jack looked back over his shoulder as Ennis followed him, the trail too narrow to ride side by side.
"Sure thing." Ennis smiled at Jack, a sensation of warm contentment cloaking him. Every routine worry was shelved for now. They would still be there, waiting for him when this trip was over, yet Ennis knew he could face them better with a few days' relaxation under his belt.
The long way back meant it was late afternoon by the time they reached their tent. The sun was slipping behind the trees, leaving a mellow golden light which filtered through the foliage. A warm breeze gusted intermittently as Ennis removed the horses' tack and gave them a swift rub down. Jack busied himself starting the fire, humming under his breath and glancing at Ennis every now and again.
After a day like this, if I was to die tonight, I'd go happy.
Jack knew these days were precious, unlikely to become the norm soon— if ever. Yet his natural optimism convinced him one day his wish would be granted, and he might share the life he wanted with Ennis. And he wouldn't die after one blissful day, but at the end of a happy life together.
Ennis settled the horses with their evening feed and strolled over to the fire. The smaller twigs had caught and were sizzling and cracking, sending sparks up into the air as the flames licked at the larger logs. Jack looked up with a smile.
"Time to fry some fish, I reckon."
Ennis patted his stomach. "An' not a moment too soon. My gut's bin rumblin' the past half hour."
Jack gestured to a bowl beside him. "Sliced up some spuds if you want a get 'em fryin' too."
Ennis licked his lips. "You bet."
A while later, Jack set his plate down with a clatter. "That was the finest meal I've had in a while, I'm tellin' you. All them fancy restaurants Lureen wants to go to can't do better'n this."
Ennis nodded in silence. He and Alma did not visit fancy restaurants, and he doubted they would, even if they could afford to.
An' who needs to, huh? This is more'n good enough fer me.
"I got us some whiskey on the way up," said Jack as he struggled to his feet. "I'll jus' go get it."
"I'll wash these plates an' such." Ennis stood up and stretched with a groan. "Sure was tasty, Jack."
"Uh huh." Jack headed for the tent and Ennis gathered the dirty things and took them down to the water's edge. He crouched and began to wash them, smiling at the memory of doing the same years ago when they worked on Brokeback Mountain. So much had changed since then, yet so much remained the same.
Ennis grunted as he got to his feet. They were closer to thirty than twenty now, lives set on a well-worn path trodden by countless others before them. He stared at the water moving purposefully past his feet, as the drips from the washed plates fell onto his boots.
All this thinkin' gets you nowhere. It is how it is.
With a mental shake of his head, he returned to the campfire, where Jack was seated comfortably with a bottle gripped between his feet.
"Come on, cowboy. This here whiskey won't drink itself."
Ennis stowed the clean dishes and joined Jack, reaching for the bottle. "Would kind a spoil it, if it did."
Jack chuckled. "You ain't wrong. No fun in that." He took the bottle and swallowed a mouthful, sighing with contentment. "We bin lucky with the weather so far. Had a cold snap down in Texas last week."
Ennis nodded. "Had us a flurry a snow up this way. I was worried— well, you know..." He tailed off. "Din't want this trip to get snowed off."
Jack edged a little closer. "Not like ol' Brokeback... that damn near broke my heart, friend. Fuckin' Aguirre," he muttered.
"Turned out okay in the end, though." Ennis rested against Jack, taking the bottle once more. "Lucky I was still in Riverton. Could a moved away, an' then where would we be?"
"Not here, that's fer sure." Jack linked his fingers and rested his hands on his knees. "Fuck knows what I'd be doin' now," he said, his voice low. "Meant a lot, gettin' back with you, Ennis. Wanted it so much... tried not to. Couldn't stop thinkin' a you, though."
Ennis was silent. When Jack said things like that, he never knew how to respond.
Jack shifted slightly and turned to face Ennis.
"Fact is— I love you, Ennis." He exhaled slowly. "There it is. Wanted a tell you before—"
Ennis scooted back and stared at Jack, his expression stormy. "What you got a say that for?" He looked around, his movements jerky. "Can't go sayin' that, you asshole."
Jack gaped at him, and Ennis scrambled to his feet. "Fuckin' idiot," he mumbled as he strode away, leaving the warmth of the fire behind him. Ennis heard Jack's boots scrape the stony ground as he stood and his steps quickened, putting distance between them and distance from the words Jack had spoken.
Fellas can't go round sayin' that kind a thing. Sayin' stuff like that can get you killed.
An involuntary shiver shimmied down Ennis' spine as he reached the river's edge. The sun was long gone and a thin sickle moon hung low in the sky. He stared out across the fast-flowing water, hands shoved into his pockets to prevent them from balling into fists. He should punch Jack, teach him a lesson, beat that queer nonsense out of him—
Ennis drew in a sharp breath. What was he thinking? He was no better than the thugs who'd seen to Earl. No better than his father, who had revelled in the death of their elderly neighbour. His shoulders sagged and a wave of desolation swept over him.
Jack don't deserve none a that, whatever tomfool nonsense he comes out with.
Ennis found a half-smoked cigarette in his shirt pocket and lit it, drawing in a steadying breath. He'd expected Jack to follow him, but all was quiet save for the gurgling of the water as it splashed over the stony riverbank.
Jack just had to come out and say it. He couldn't keep it hidden, tucked away inside, only bringing it out during those moments when the world faded to monochrome and all there was were the blues and greens and browns of a distant mountainside under a bright sky. Ennis dared not risk such openness, even if he felt the same.
Even if Jack's words had loosened something within him. Softened the flinty hardness lodged behind his ribs, just a little.
He finished the cigarette and tossed the butt into the water, before squaring his shoulders and retracing his steps back to the campfire.
Jack had ignored his immediate response to Ennis' words, guessing that following him to argue the point would not go down well. So he remained sitting at the fire, scratching lines in the dirt at his feet with a sharp-edged stone.
Should a kept my mouth shut. Even if ev'ry word was true.
At the sound of approaching footsteps, he looked up. Ennis hesitated, one boot scuffing the ground, before resuming his seat. The gap between them was greater than before, and Ennis reached for the whiskey and took a large mouthful. He swallowed it and rubbed his mouth with his hand. A sidelong look at Jack told him all he needed to know.
You gone an' spoiled the best day you've had in a long time. It ain't his fault he's like he is. Soft asshole.
Ennis coughed. "See here, Jack. Sorry I shouted... weren't no need fer that."
Jack said nothing, and Ennis continued. "We had a fine time today, an' you know part a me wishes we could have more'n a few days here an' there." He shot a quick glance at Jack. "So... sorry, bud."
After a moment, Jack edged closer to Ennis. He drew in a breath and dropped the stone on the ground.
"A few months ago Lureen dragged me to the cinema. There was a movie she was desperate to see, an'—" he laughed mirthlessly. "'Cause it was a romance I think she thought— well, anyway. It din't do anythin' fer us, but it got me thinkin'."
Ennis scratched his head. Jack was fond of telling stories, yet he didn't see where this one was going.
"In the movie, she says love means never havin' to say you're sorry. An' afterwards, when Lureen was asleep an' I was lyin' in bed thinkin' 'bout you—" Jack nudged Ennis' shoulder, "—which is somethin' I do a lot, friend—I realised that I din't ever want a be sorry for feelin' 'bout you like I do. It's a powerful feelin', Ennis. I ain't gone a 'pologise fer it. You're the most precious thing in my life, an' that's a fact." He fell silent, staring into the flames and hoping what he'd said would not frighten Ennis away for good.
Ennis' hands gripped his knees, and a lump rose in his throat. Jack's ability to say exactly how he felt, in a way Ennis never could, did frighten him. Because one day the wrong person might overhear him, and Ennis wouldn't be there to watch out for him.
No-one had ever spoken to Ennis in that way. Opened their heart, laid their words at his feet, made him feel so wanted. Not even Alma, in all the years of their courtship and marriage, had said such things.
"That's a fuckin' stupid line. What you said," Ennis blurted out. He sensed Jack's surprised gaze on him, and rubbed his palms on his jeans. "'Course I'd apologise, if I dropped a wrench on yer foot, or snagged you with barbed wire, or let a mule kick you, or—" His words petered out and he finally turned to look at Jack. "Ain't no shame in sayin' sorry, Jack. Not apologisin'— can't fer the life a me see how that's love." He stopped abruptly, blushing hard, and stared at his boots.
"I don't think—" Jack broke off as Ennis' words sank in. "I— Ennis. What you jus' said— d'you mean—"
"Sure 'nough," said Ennis gruffly. "But I don't see no call to go on about it, Jack. We know, an' that's all that matters."
Jack thought his heart could not swell any more. Although Ennis had not spoken the precise words, his meaning was clear. He leant in towards Ennis, his lips close to his ear.
"I love you somethin' fierce," Jack whispered. He felt Ennis stiffen briefly, then added, "Promise I won't keep sayin' it, though. Not if you don't want me to."
Ennis shifted round to face Jack fully. He raised a hand and touched his cheek.
"It ain't that so much... fact is, I kind a like it." Warmth crept up the back of Ennis' neck, and his eyes dropped momentarily. "But it jus' worries me, Jack. You know why."
Jack covered Ennis' hand with his own. "I surely do, an' I wish I could go back there an' stop you seein' what you saw. No kid needs to see that, friend. Hell, no-one at all, whatever their age."
Ennis' lips pinched, and he nodded, holding Jack's gaze. He felt his cheeks warming as he regarded Jack's tender expression, yet he did not look away.
"How 'bout we call it a night out here? There's a bedroll with our names on it," grinned Jack.
Ennis shook his head, smiling. "That your answer to ev'rythin', huh?"
Jack looked at Ennis, his face serious. "Only when it's you."
Every time they'd met up since parting in Signal, the first evening would be an almost frenzied coming together, bodies combining desperately as though it was the last time they would ever meet.
This evening was different.
They took their time. Every look, every touch, every taste, was heavy with a deeper meaning. And when Ennis finally took Jack it was with a slow deliberation, his eyes confirming what his heart knew. What he'd told Jack, in his own way, earlier.
As Jack caught his breath in the heady aftermath, nuzzling into Ennis' shoulder while his legs remained wrapped around him, he thought they could not get any closer. Physically, or emotionally.
"Ennis... bud." Jack murmured against his skin, his voice barely audible. "I love you," he whispered.
Ennis raised himself a little, his arms braced on either side of Jack's head. He studied Jack's face, smiling faintly at the brightness of his eyes. He dropped his head and kissed Jack's eyelids, tasting the salt on his lips.
"Back at ya, Twist," he breathed into Jack's ear.
Jack hugged him even more tightly, until Ennis grunted in discomfort.
"This the thanks I get? Bein' squeezed to death?"
"Sorry, friend." Jack lowered his legs and loosened his grip. "Guess we'd better sort ourselves out." He yawned widely.
"You said it." Ennis drew back, shivering as they separated. He regarded Jack, who looked up at him drowsily. "Don't you go fallin' asleep 'fore we've tidied this bed." He prodded Jack in the chest.
"Hey! Thought you lov—"
Ennis covered Jack's mouth, casting a worried glance at the fastened tent flap.
"Come on, Jack," he pleaded. "Don't go pushin' your luck."
Jack sighed. "Sorry. Again." He grinned as Ennis removed his hand. "You can't blame me fer makin' the most of it, Ennis. It's a good feelin'."
"I know," conceded Ennis. "An' it ain't goin' anywhere, so long as you tidy this damn bed."
Jack pulled the bedding straight, and Ennis gathered their discarded clothes and tossed them into the corner of the tent. They got comfortable, and Jack reached for the cigarettes and took two from the pack.
"Can we share? I'm tryin' a cut down." Junior hated the smell of cigarette smoke, and since he'd reduced his smoking, Ennis had to admit he felt better for it.
"Sure thing." Jack lit the cigarette and passed it to Ennis. Maybe it was time he cut back, too.
They smoked in silence, basking in the contentment which could only be found in a moment like this. Ennis took a final drag and Jack held out an empty bottle for him to dispose of the butt.
"Time fer sleep?" Ennis pulled the pillows flat and looked at Jack enquiringly.
"You got other plans?" Jack winked at him, and Ennis harrumphed.
"Ain't no stoppin' you, is there?" He smiled as he spoke.
Jack leant in. "Not when it's you behind me, cowboy." He lay down with a yawn. "But I'm dog-tired, if I'm honest. It can wait 'til mornin'."
A few minutes after saying their goodnights and settling down, Jack sat up.
"Shit."
"What now?" Ennis rubbed his eyes. "You got gut ache or somethin'?"
"Or somethin'... got a piss."
Ennis sank back. "Get to it, then, 'fore there ain't no night left."
Jack fumbled for his boots and pulled them on, not bothering with anything else. He left the tent and crossed to the trees, away from the horses. There was just enough light in the sky to show him the way, and he shivered in the night air as he reached the edge of the clearing.
Standing almost naked in the darkness, knowing there was no-one there to judge him for who he was, was liberating. Jack wished fervently he could take this feeling down the mountain with him. Wished he might breathe this easily back in the everyday world. But he knew, when their trip ended and they resumed the lives expected of them, the rigid band would tighten around his chest again. Restricting him. Pinning him. Preventing him being himself.
Yet knowing how Ennis felt about him—about them—lightened his steps as he returned to the tent. Maybe this was how it had to be, for now. Down the line, anything was possible. It had to be.
Jack ducked his head and entered the tent. He prised off his boots and scrambled onto the bedroll, where Ennis was waiting for him.