Away From His Hand Chapter 13
Title: Away From His Hand - Chapter 13
Current Mood: Enthralled
Current Music: Hold On, I’m Coming by Sam and Dave
Author: forever9218
Pairing: Ennis and Jack
Genre: AU/Canon
Word Count: 5137
Disclaimer: Brokeback Mountain is the intellectual property of Ms. Annie Proulx. No money is being made from this work and no copyright infringement is intended. Just trying to paint new horizons for our beloved boys.
Dedication: To everyone here who still believes and is willing to be patient with the slowest writer that ever graced the planet.
Summary: The year is 1977, and Jack is still playing by Ennis’ rules of meeting up once or twice a year for a “friendly” fishing trip. Never hope of anything more, and certainly no chance of living a sweet life together. This time, however, unlike all the years of missed opportunities, Jack is determined not to go down the mountain without some promises being made. Both men feel in their bones that time is running out for them so, as an alternative to pointless arguing, they actually begin to talk about planning a future together. When unforeseen circumstances arise and an orphaned wolf pup enters the scene, their world starts to change in many unexpected ways. Before they know it, actions are set into motion and suddenly the possibility of living a life together every day, doesn’t seem so impossible.
Away From His Hand Chapter - 13
“Could be you’re getting all worked up over nothing, Alma,” a supportive smile appeared.
Monroe looked across the table at the bitter face staring back at him now and remembered a childhood time when his mother used to say how even the smallest person had the built-in strength to carry a massive grudge to the grave. Under most circumstances, he might have tried to ease the strain with an amusing anecdote about one of the supermarket’s more eccentric customers, or distract and defuse with a bit of idle small talk on a reliable topic of interest. He may not have been an expert in all of Alma’s varied mood swings just yet, but he was more than acquainted with the kind of ruffled feathered mindset that had been festering tenaciously since her unexpected run in with her ex-husband the previous afternoon. At this point in their still unfolding relationship, firsthand acquaintance with Alma’s unresolved issues with a certain Ennis Del Mar meant that any continued effort to thwart or to frustrate, would only result in ramping up an already volatile situation. All he knew for sure, was that if he didn’t tread lightly around this particular topic, he would be feeling the aftershocks of her unrest for days.
Although she had previously given birth to two children and had advanced beyond her thirtieth birthday a few years back, Alma Beers Del Mar had maintained an almost elfin-like figure, and for those who paused long enough to take notice at all, her petite frame and pallid complexion made her appear utterly fragile and forgiving. Most extended encounters only intensified the flaccid imagery, unveiling a starkly diminutive individual who, more often than not, exuded coy reserve, if not outright submissiveness. A seemingly demure damsel in distress brought up to get what she wanted by applying tried and true womanly ways to please her man, while devotedly bringing out the masculine instinct to provide and protect. That is until what ostensibly seemed to be a brittle and blanched disposition, upon closer inspection, turned into what would more accurately be described as an unhealthy and worrisome scorn. More often than not, the unfortunate victim was a certain ex-husband who, to Monroe’s way of thinking, appeared to be nothing more than a harmless, hard working ranch hand, much more comfortable with grazing livestock than in taking any personal stock in planning for his own future. For all intents and purposes, how could anyone be surprised that this unassuming man would disappoint the people in his life? He was a simple creature, with uncomplicated needs. Good to his daughters, but perhaps not the marrying kind.
At first glance, Monroe figured the thorny anger Alma continued to harbor against her former husband was a rite of passage for a young woman raised to be dutiful and long suffering. Unless a man was beating on his wife, or stepping out on the town every night, divorce meant failure and he could see how Alma might have been weighed down by guilt for not being able to save her marriage. Women in the big cities may have been spending the last decade walking out of lifeless commitments, but Wyoming pride and a rustic adherence to family values, had everyone whispering behind her back the day she sent Ennis packing. Monroe was well aware that folks had concluded long ago how he had been the third wheel “complication,” ultimately leading, in due course, to the Del Mar divorce. The conjecture was an understandable one partially because it was such an easy proposition to make. After all, Alma had worked as a clerk in his store for several years and he naturally grew closer to her during some trying times. When they eventually started to date officially, suspicions became fact and soon their fate was sealed in the eyes of many. Even more convincing to watchful townsfolk was the added component that Ennis still wasn’t seeing anyone over a year and a half later. The fact he and Alma were now engaged to be married certainly had done nothing to squelch the local gossip.
“Sometimes things just don’t work out between two people. You were awfully young when you got married. You just grew apart, wanted different things.”
“But....”
Monroe reached over to quickly squeeze his dining companion’s hand. Such a public gesture was unusually demonstrative for him, but he could see how agitated Alma still was as a result of yesterday’s run in at the A & P.
“Don’t think it’s against the law for a man to buy a load of groceries, dear.”
The quip that followed was practically seething with venom and Monroe, although familiar with Alma’s flare-ups when it came to her ex-husband, was still surprised at both the intensity and the velocity of the verbal onslaught that spewed out.
“He has the girls next weekend. If someone’s staying with him, it is my business.”
“Listen to yourself, Alma. You’re working yourself up over who Ennis might be with this weekend when Junior and Jenny are asleep in their own beds right now, safe and sound. Ennis is a grown man. You’ve moved on with your life. Why shouldn’t he? Just a few weeks back you told me how you and the girls were worried about him being alone so much.” Monroe paused to remind Alma why they were here, “Besides, you’re letting a real nice meal get cold frettin’ over this.”
Alma bit off the next words she wanted to say and forced one of her best coquettish smiles to settle into place. She wasn’t about to do anything to let this one get away. In a small town like Riverton, there simply weren’t that many prospects for a divorced mother with two young children to raise. Monroe may not have been overly endowed in the good looks department, but he was pleasant enough and kind to the girls, besides the added advantage of being a successful store manager with real ambition. She liked that he was an attentive escort, dutifully sociable and generous by nature. They were only half way through the month and this was already the second Saturday night he had taken her out to The Knife and Fork, without even the need for a hint, or a nudge from her. They had officially started dating about one year ago and, thus far, she had traveled more miles with Monroe than she had the entire twelve years of her marriage to Ennis. She loved the way the man listened with respect and actually acted on things she had spoken to him about. Never mind that he had no problem taking out his wallet whenever she or the girls needed something. Alma barely remembered smartening up to go anywhere with Ennis, except maybe to a drive-in show or a diner in the early years when he still seemed to be making some effort to be a good husband. Once she had persuaded him to leave those lonesome old ranches that were located at the edge of the world, she tried to get him to apply for job openings with the city in the hopes of upping his take home pay. But, no matter what approach she tried, Ennis would inevitably grumble and come up with some excuse not to pursue the opportunity, from being too clumsy to work with electricity to not having enough schooling to pass the civil service exams.
The only time she would ever see his tight-lipped, rooted-in-place ways dissolve in an instant, was when he was about to embark on one of those regularly scheduled fishing trips he began to take up, four years into their marriage. Annual mountain excursions that had been set into motion with the arrival of a single picture post card, introducing her to an old friend she didn’t even know her reclusive husband had. On those regularly planned occasions, Ennis became more chipper than she ever remembered him being, and endowed with an out of the blue revitalized energy. Instead of his trademark grunts and growls, she actually could hear him hum and whistle. Looking more closely, she could swear that she even witnessed a bounce in his step appear from time to time. Once the actual day of departure finally rolled around, he was out the door as fast as his worn out boots could carry him, leaping down the stairwell in a mad dash to hit the road. In colder months, the truck engine would have been already warming up in the driveway with the trailer hitched up behind. Ennis already geared up to swing by his boss’ ranch to pick up a couple of horses before setting off in a compulsive rush. More often than she cared to remember, he would fail to take something essential that any seasoned sportsman would need. One time the oversight involved the rolled up sleeping bag that had been left in the closet, while another instance focused attention on an abandoned tackle box still sitting on the kitchen table. Both occurrences ended up with her having to finally remind Ennis, at the last minute, before he clumsily retrieved the item in question and headed out the door, without a word.
“Don’t ya think it’s odd that Ennis is back from his fishin’ trip earlier than he told the girls?”
Monroe swallowed a piece of the medium rare roast beef he had been trying to enjoy all evening long then took a long sip of coffee to wash down the juicy morsel. “When was he due back?”
“Sunday.”
Monroe shrugged. “Maybe the girls misunderstood. Or, once he got up there, his friend told him he couldn’t stay as long as he thought. Could even be a bad storm rolled in and they had a change in plans, cut the fishing trip short. The weather up there in the Bighorn Mountains is pretty unpredictable, you know.”
Alma shook her head in dispute. “The girls hang on their daddy’s every word. And, if his friend went back to Texas, why would Ennis need so much food this weekend? The list of groceries ya told me about means someone’s stayin’ with him. Ya said so yourself.”
Monroe hesitated, not knowing how much to fuel the flames. For some unknown reason, Alma despised the longtime fishing buddy he had yet to meet. Normally, he would be bursting with curiosity to scrutinize the source for such antipathy, but given the crusty and unfriendly ways of Ennis Del Mar, he had to admit he hardly regretted the lack of a personal introduction with the mysterious Texas pen pal. He pretty much figured anyone who could put up with such a crotchety cuss for more than a day at a time must be a fairly dull and undesirable individual, with few options for companionship. Still, he had to admit he had no idea who else Ennis might know well enough to possibly invite over for dinner.
He cleared his throat before forging ahead with caution, “I understand you don’t care much for….What’s the guy’s name, again?”
Alma cringed. Obviously, not welcoming the prospect of having to hear the one person’s name she wished she could eradicate from her life forever. Never mind having those two repellent words cross her lips in polite company. She barely opened her mouth in response to the straightforward query, “Jack…Twist.”
Monroe nodded. “I guess you could be right but, remember, Ennis did buy three steaks, yesterday.”
Just as he was about to speculate further, the waitress brought over two helpings of the hot huckleberry cobbler that came with their dinners, the concerned server immediately noticing the hardly touched food left on Alma’s plate.
“You barely ate anything tonight, Ma’am. Would you like for me to box it up for you?”
Alma looked down, outwardly embarrassed by her lack of an appetite, “That would be nice. Thank you for your trouble, Miss. I just wasn’t too hungry, I guess.” She added obligatorily, “Everything was very good though.”
Once both coffee cups had been refilled and the waitress set down the bill to concentrate on her other tables, an idea came to Monroe that he thought might provide the solution to the puzzle. He hoped the simple suggestion would finally quiet Alma’s agitation.
“Hey, didn’t you say this Jack Twist has a son? Maybe he brought him along to enjoy some time with his father.”
“Oh, I’m sure that didn’t happen,” Alma sneered, dismissively.
“Well, why not? Isn’t the boy old enough?”
“Oh, he’s old enough.”
“Then why don’t you think he brought him along?”
Arching an eyebrow, she answered with an evasive, inscrutable air. “These fishin’ trips ain’t meant for children…or wives for that matter.”
_____________________
“Stop clowning around, dumbass. You’re cacklin’ like some damn hyena.”
Except for a certain someone long schooled in the ornery ways of Ennis Del Mar, the newly donned grim expression and the dour narrowing gaze might have scared the life out of a lesser man. But, for one Jack Twist, there was undeniably something warm and familiar in the discernible twitch at the corner of an otherwise firmly set mouth, and something benign in the flicker of light that was now dancing in those two brown eyes. Where a stranger might have seen outright anger or possibly an impending reprisal, Jack had observed what, at best, might be considered a mild annoyance taking shape. Regardless, how this all played out from here, he was confident the potential reward would be more than worth the risk of continuing to play with fire, which he definitely intended to do.
Coughing into a balled up left hand, Jack tried his best to square up his posture in the hopes of projecting a mutually shared exacerbation with the current awkward situation, “Wolves like to mark their territory, Ennis. Seems like…seems like…,” he bit his lip before quickly turning around to avoid detection, rounded shoulders already shaking with an ineptly harnessed laughter.
“You’re finding this mighty amusing, aren’t ya, boy?”
A muttered protest was delivered with a strained, high pitched whine, “No.”
“Why didn’t that fluff of fur piss on your boots?”
“He…he…probably thought you were feeling left out.” Jack bent over and let out a full blown belly laugh.
“I’m sorry, Ennis. But, the look on your face is….”
“Is what?”
Jack tried to regain control, but the swiping away of tears that had now begun to stream down his face was an instant indication he was losing that particular personal battle. “It’s…one of them Kodak moments.”
Ennis folded his arms and did his best not to give in too quickly. “Is that some kind of sarcasm?”
“No.”
By now, the husky laughter had totally given way to an irrepressible giggle, leaving Jack struggling for his next breath and Ennis completely at a disadvantage. No matter how mad he wanted to be, there was nothing like witnessing a highly amused Jack Twist, the childlike hysterics a sound he realized long ago he would never grow tired of hearing. Coming up from behind, he took hold of an arm to pull Jack in close, smiling at how the halfhearted squirming his touch engendered, crumbled in an instant. Swaying backwards against the lanky frame, the solid body naturally slackened as Jack openly yielded to the tender moment they had just instinctively created. The kind of silent embrace both men had craved since that first distant summer together. Two becoming one, fused into a single column formation that spoke to an immutable need neither one could fully understand, nor adequately explain.
“You’re gonna start hiccupping soon if you don’t stop….”
Now, it was Ennis’ turn to softly chuckle at the spasmodic noise that had just gurgled up from Jack’s throat.
“Shit. I hate when… hiccup…this happens.”
“That’s what ya get for makin’ fun of my hardship.”
Jack turned his head around and gave his best hound dog expression. “I wasn’t making fun. I was just…hiccup…damnit!”
“Maybe I could help.”
“How can you….” Before Jack could argue or gather any details about the remedy being suggested, two smothering lips locked onto his in one breathtaking, extended kiss.
“Mhmmmmmmmmmmm.”
Spurred on by the encouraging response, Ennis continued to expertly tend to Jack’s needs, the conjured up cure, not surprisingly, one that was equally healing. Once both men had come up for air, an undisturbed calm had been restored; the inspired line of attack an obvious success.
Wrapping his arms around Jack even tighter, Ennis closed his eyes the moment Jack burrowed his head into the space between his chin and shoulder.
“Mhmm.”
The repeated mumbled reaction was warmly met with a wisp of smugness as Ennis settled his chin on top of the thick tuffs of dark hair.
“Thought I was just shuttin’ down some hiccups, but looks like I get a side benefit out of this.”
“Mhm. How do ya figure that?”
“Left ya speechless. I’ll have to ‘member what I did whenever you get too mouthy. Maybe bottle it up. Make some money.”
Jack’s gaze sparkled upward. “Won’t deny you’re an expert at taking my breath away. Been doin’ that since I first laid eyes on ya.”
Twisting around to better align their bodies, a low-key reproach followed, “Don’t much think I like ya profitin’ from my pain though.”
A weighty frown appeared at the undetected hidden meaning behind the words, “I didn’t....”
Jack shushed the man before he could even begin to think twice about breaking the intimate moment, one hand stroking the side of Ennis’ face to quiet and reassure, “I know. Truth is…, don’t feel much pain these days, friend. Feel real good, in fact.” Raising both eyebrows Jack waited for a confirmatory response. But, instead of words, he was treated to another kiss, lucid and clear as a mountain stream. Long and slow. No tongue. Just sheer need being met…chaste and artless.
“Mhmmmmmmmmmmm. I surely love a man who can elucidate.”
“Glad ya got my meaning,” Ennis grinned.
In what he hoped would be decades of years ahead, Jack thought he would retain this singular moment as an unmarred memory that would never fade or be dulled, regardless of the emotional hazards ahead. Similar to another indelible time and place, the entrancing happiness he felt surging through him was the kind of comfort that healed and rekindled old dreams. Back then, Ennis had come up behind to hold him close, the sparks from the campfire swirling in the air like fireflies. While stars slowly made their twilight appearance against the growing darkness. He recalled how the outdoor silence surrounded them and the soothing voice, he always hungered after, hummed next to his ear. Jack leaned against the steady heartbeat, drowsy and languid, wanting nothing more than to be where he was. Until today, the remembered moment had remained flawless, except for the knowledge that what they were trying to create now was so much better than when they were glassy-eyed lads of nineteen. Ennis had been filled with confusion and fear while Jack had been overtaken by the force of love and the hope of what was yet to come. Neither man with a clue of what they were doing, or how to handle what had hit them like a sledgehammer.
Unlike that first summer of discovery, Ennis could now not only face him, but hold on like he never wanted to let him go. Seal that promise with a sexless kiss and then give them the time to just be. Jack knew he might be setting himself up for a fall, but he actually felt some real headway was being made over these past few days. Some kind of lock tumbler clicking into place. A relationship not built on Ennis’ rules of denial and hardship, but on an alliance of two hearts bonded together in the joy of possibility. Here it was Saturday night and they had just finished another satisfying day together after waking up to one of Ennis’ eager caresses. Owing to some unusually rigorous mattress interplay, they promptly cleaned up before feeding their newborn charge and moving outside for some pack-inspired playtime. Jim had told them, the night they had been invited for dinner, that wolf pups needed constant socialization so family bonding had immediately become a vital and visible part of their parental role. Both men took turns grappling on the ground. The wolf pup encouraged to jump, pounce, roll and spin. For good measure, Jack would twirl the pup into the air to consciously establish his dominance with the added benefit of rousing a normally deadpan Ennis to laugh at his wild antics.
Once they were through with their morning workout, they responsibly put the pup to bed, allowing them to casually plan the rest of their day over an enjoyable breakfast of freshly brewed coffee, with bacon and eggs. Jack supposed he was uncharacteristically encouraging when Ennis first floated the idea of checking in at the ranch. Partly, because he wouldn’t be away from the house for more than one morning and partly because it was easier to be generous with time when he knew Ennis would be returning home to him soon. Besides that one appealing fact, Jack had to agree when Ennis spoke about how he felt like he owed the foreman some extra time. After all, Jim had pointed out, during their ride to the trailhead, that his request to take some time off to help Ennis retrieve his truck on Friday morning had been greeted without much protest. Evidently, the boss had even been thoughtful enough to ask after Ennis to see if he was alright. In the past, Jack had selfishly viewed everyone or anything that took Ennis away from their time together as an adversary worthy of scorn and certainly challenged as an irritating nuisance, if not more often an outright interloper. Jack would mutter, “Never enough time,” whenever Ennis spoke about losing his job if they tried to meet up too soon. Or, mentioned how he had to pay child support and how Jack had forgotten what it was like not to even have two sticks to rub together. He didn’t like being selfish, but he figured what they had was no little thing. His newfound tolerance was no doubt based on the undeniable reality that circumstances had changed dramatically on this particular trip. To his way of thinking, they were building a life together, which met they needed to let other people be part of that existence and, like any other couple, they had responsibilities to fulfill separate from each other. The one big difference, of course, was that they couldn’t let people know they were actually a couple. One more reason, Jack was determined to move far away from Wyoming and Texas for good. Somewhere where they didn’t need to fight old battles, but actually could start a new life and experience a fresh start, a real chance to finally move forward together.
One more thing we still need to talk about.
___________________________________
When Ennis returned that afternoon from work, Jack was surprised to see a boxed up charcoal grill in the back of the truck. He smiled knowing they had talked earlier about having a barbecue for Jim tomorrow, but when Jack had seen how Ennis’ turn of the century equipment had rotted out at the bottom from too many harsh winters and untold years of lack of use, he began to play down the out-of-doors idea. The last thing he wanted was for Ennis to feel inadequate in any way, figuring the quality of the steak was what would make the meal and that a cast iron skillet would be good enough. All that would be needed was a little garlic, salt and pepper and their planned for spread would be set. Suddenly, seeing a brand new purchase in tow, made him think that Ennis must have thought otherwise. The new addition an extravagance Jack couldn’t imagine his man indulging in just two days ago.
“This is great, Ennis. We sure could use one of these for tomorrow.”
“Figured as much. Went to the hardware store after work and thought this one would do the trick. On sale too. Picked up some charcoal and lighter fluid so I think we got everything covered.”
“Looks like a real beauty. Let’s set it up right now so we don’t have to bother with it tomorrow. We might want to sleep in a bit.” Jack winked, "Sunday’s a day of rest, ya know.”
“Every day’s a day of rest for you, Jack Fuckin’ Twist.” Ennis peeked out from the brim of his cowboy hat, an obvious smirk on his face.
“Sounds good, though. I’ll go get the toolbox. Hey, where that pup get off to?” Ennis shouted as he retrieved what he needed.
“Oh, we’ve been playing. Think I wore the little guy out.”
“Ya know, you’re gonna have to come up with a name for ‘im soon. Ya got any ideas, yet?”
Jack leaned up against the side of his truck, arms perched high, elbows flared out, his favorite position for thinking things through. By the time Ennis had returned from the shed to start assembling the loose parts, Jack was more than ready to offer some suggestions.
“Thought maybe we could come up with sumthin’ together. Figure we could go three different ways with this here christening. Could give ‘im a name that matches his personality. The only problem is it hasn’t really been formed yet. Or, we come up with sumthin’ right now that is more traditional. Ya know, something like Timber or Moonriser. Then again, we could use the name of some place or event that has a special meanin’.”
“Special meanin’? Whatya have in mind?”
“I don’t know.” Jack closed his eyes in deep thought before chuckling out his first proposal. “How ‘bout ‘Siesta’?” Or, ‘Motel’?”
Ennis didn’t even bother to look up from his task. “Very funny. Don’t ya think a wolf needs kinda a noble name?”
Jack looked skyward and stroked his chin in contemplation. “That’s true. But how do we choose between Heckel and Jeckel?”
“We don't, shithead. And, ya better not say, “How ‘bout callin' ‘im, ‘Shithead’?”
“Ya know me too well, cowboy," Jack smirked. "Aw, hell! Don’t be such a grump. I’m just havin’ some fun.”
Ennis slowly backed up to get a better look at his handiwork, dusting his hands off even though they weren’t dirty. “Grill don’t look right.”
Without even looking at the object that prompted Ennis' discontent, Jack responded with certitude. “Appears fine to me. Ya always think ya gotta work harder on sumthin’ than ya need to.”
“Might be a little lopsided. Think I’ll loosen one of them bolts.” Grabbing the screwdriver, he readjusted the stand and stepped back, this time more tolerant of the final result.
Jack’s eyes brightened, “Hey, how ‘bout ‘Hailstorm’? Seems I ‘member we had a great time that evening when that northern squall hit us up on Brokeback.”
Ennis smiled. “Sure enough. Except for havin’ to go out the next day and round up them sheep that were spooked by all that thunder and lightnin’. That was a pain in the ass.”
“It’s kinda funny. I thought so too at the time. Wanted to kick the shit out of Aguirre for being such a demandin’ asshole. But afterwards, while we were gettin’ the job done…I don’t know…. Felt kinda good pullin’ in the same direction with ya like that. Could see we worked real well together. Until then, you had been up with the sheep and I had been down at the base camp. Ya even talked ‘bout how we had to do a good job ‘cause maybe we’d be comin’ back to work for Aguirre again. Made me feel like everythin’ wasn’t gonna end between us when September rolled around.” Jack lowered his head and kicked at the ground. “Course it did.”
Ennis walked over and stood next to Jack, likewise bending backward against the truck’s metal frame, almost as if to show they were of like minds on this particular topic.
“Ya know that meadow with that sea of purty blue flowers we found the day we rode back into camp, after practically gettin' up in the middle of the night?”
Jack looked over with a nostalgic eye. “Sure. That was the mornin’ I got ya up to see that sunrise. Talk about grumpy. Ya, didn’t want to go up that mountain, as I recall. But, once ya was there, ya couldn’t stop talkin’ ‘bout all them colors that spilled out into the sky. Seems to me that was the first time ya actually held my hand without us...ya know, being preoccupied.”
Ennis met Jack’s gaze, without one trace of embarrassment. “Could be, I recall that mornin’ the same way.”
“Why’re ya bringin’ that up now?”
“Don’t laugh.”
For all his teasing ways, Jack had an uncanny ability to know, in his heart, when the time was right to cool his heels. Inexplicably, in tune with Ennis’ hidden need to not only say something about a given topic, but to say something important that Jack needed to hear. “I ain’t gonna make fun of ya.”
“Well, the blue in them flowers, they kinda made me think of you. Like clusters of sapphires sparklin’ cross the landscape. Looked them up in the Library one day. They’re called Lupines. Found out the word means wolflike.”
Damn, if that stubborn fool still don’t know how to take my breath away.
Clearing his throat to make sure he could speak the words without stumbling, Jack conceded, “Lupine, huh? Could be a good name. Guess we could call him Piney for short.”
Without saying a word, Ennis pushed away from the truck and began to meticulously gather up his tools before walking toward the front door a little faster than was necessary. “We could call ‘im Piney, I suppose. But I think, since you was the one who found the critter, that maybe Loopy would be a better fit.” With that, the door slammed shut behind him and Jack could swear he heard laughter echoing off the walls inside.
Hands on hips, he paused to take in the moment, his eyes gleaming with warmth and something that he thought might be considered close to damn near wonderment. Cloudless and suddenly unfettered by the countless years of never having what he wanted.
You're a aggravatin’, romantic sonofabitch.
“Hey, ya coward! I ain’t Loopy. That how you talk about someone with a concussion. I swear Ennis Del Mar you're a....”
Jack continued to curse underneath his breath as he followed the same path Ennis had just forged. A noticeable spring to his step and another irreplaceable memory tucked away for safekeeping. Just one more compelling reason to strengthen an already impassioned resolve never to let this aggravating man out of his sight, ever again.
Tbc
Current Mood: Enthralled
Current Music: Hold On, I’m Coming by Sam and Dave
Author: forever9218
Pairing: Ennis and Jack
Genre: AU/Canon
Word Count: 5137
Disclaimer: Brokeback Mountain is the intellectual property of Ms. Annie Proulx. No money is being made from this work and no copyright infringement is intended. Just trying to paint new horizons for our beloved boys.
Dedication: To everyone here who still believes and is willing to be patient with the slowest writer that ever graced the planet.
Summary: The year is 1977, and Jack is still playing by Ennis’ rules of meeting up once or twice a year for a “friendly” fishing trip. Never hope of anything more, and certainly no chance of living a sweet life together. This time, however, unlike all the years of missed opportunities, Jack is determined not to go down the mountain without some promises being made. Both men feel in their bones that time is running out for them so, as an alternative to pointless arguing, they actually begin to talk about planning a future together. When unforeseen circumstances arise and an orphaned wolf pup enters the scene, their world starts to change in many unexpected ways. Before they know it, actions are set into motion and suddenly the possibility of living a life together every day, doesn’t seem so impossible.
Away From His Hand Chapter - 13
“Could be you’re getting all worked up over nothing, Alma,” a supportive smile appeared.
Monroe looked across the table at the bitter face staring back at him now and remembered a childhood time when his mother used to say how even the smallest person had the built-in strength to carry a massive grudge to the grave. Under most circumstances, he might have tried to ease the strain with an amusing anecdote about one of the supermarket’s more eccentric customers, or distract and defuse with a bit of idle small talk on a reliable topic of interest. He may not have been an expert in all of Alma’s varied mood swings just yet, but he was more than acquainted with the kind of ruffled feathered mindset that had been festering tenaciously since her unexpected run in with her ex-husband the previous afternoon. At this point in their still unfolding relationship, firsthand acquaintance with Alma’s unresolved issues with a certain Ennis Del Mar meant that any continued effort to thwart or to frustrate, would only result in ramping up an already volatile situation. All he knew for sure, was that if he didn’t tread lightly around this particular topic, he would be feeling the aftershocks of her unrest for days.
Although she had previously given birth to two children and had advanced beyond her thirtieth birthday a few years back, Alma Beers Del Mar had maintained an almost elfin-like figure, and for those who paused long enough to take notice at all, her petite frame and pallid complexion made her appear utterly fragile and forgiving. Most extended encounters only intensified the flaccid imagery, unveiling a starkly diminutive individual who, more often than not, exuded coy reserve, if not outright submissiveness. A seemingly demure damsel in distress brought up to get what she wanted by applying tried and true womanly ways to please her man, while devotedly bringing out the masculine instinct to provide and protect. That is until what ostensibly seemed to be a brittle and blanched disposition, upon closer inspection, turned into what would more accurately be described as an unhealthy and worrisome scorn. More often than not, the unfortunate victim was a certain ex-husband who, to Monroe’s way of thinking, appeared to be nothing more than a harmless, hard working ranch hand, much more comfortable with grazing livestock than in taking any personal stock in planning for his own future. For all intents and purposes, how could anyone be surprised that this unassuming man would disappoint the people in his life? He was a simple creature, with uncomplicated needs. Good to his daughters, but perhaps not the marrying kind.
At first glance, Monroe figured the thorny anger Alma continued to harbor against her former husband was a rite of passage for a young woman raised to be dutiful and long suffering. Unless a man was beating on his wife, or stepping out on the town every night, divorce meant failure and he could see how Alma might have been weighed down by guilt for not being able to save her marriage. Women in the big cities may have been spending the last decade walking out of lifeless commitments, but Wyoming pride and a rustic adherence to family values, had everyone whispering behind her back the day she sent Ennis packing. Monroe was well aware that folks had concluded long ago how he had been the third wheel “complication,” ultimately leading, in due course, to the Del Mar divorce. The conjecture was an understandable one partially because it was such an easy proposition to make. After all, Alma had worked as a clerk in his store for several years and he naturally grew closer to her during some trying times. When they eventually started to date officially, suspicions became fact and soon their fate was sealed in the eyes of many. Even more convincing to watchful townsfolk was the added component that Ennis still wasn’t seeing anyone over a year and a half later. The fact he and Alma were now engaged to be married certainly had done nothing to squelch the local gossip.
“Sometimes things just don’t work out between two people. You were awfully young when you got married. You just grew apart, wanted different things.”
“But....”
Monroe reached over to quickly squeeze his dining companion’s hand. Such a public gesture was unusually demonstrative for him, but he could see how agitated Alma still was as a result of yesterday’s run in at the A & P.
“Don’t think it’s against the law for a man to buy a load of groceries, dear.”
The quip that followed was practically seething with venom and Monroe, although familiar with Alma’s flare-ups when it came to her ex-husband, was still surprised at both the intensity and the velocity of the verbal onslaught that spewed out.
“He has the girls next weekend. If someone’s staying with him, it is my business.”
“Listen to yourself, Alma. You’re working yourself up over who Ennis might be with this weekend when Junior and Jenny are asleep in their own beds right now, safe and sound. Ennis is a grown man. You’ve moved on with your life. Why shouldn’t he? Just a few weeks back you told me how you and the girls were worried about him being alone so much.” Monroe paused to remind Alma why they were here, “Besides, you’re letting a real nice meal get cold frettin’ over this.”
Alma bit off the next words she wanted to say and forced one of her best coquettish smiles to settle into place. She wasn’t about to do anything to let this one get away. In a small town like Riverton, there simply weren’t that many prospects for a divorced mother with two young children to raise. Monroe may not have been overly endowed in the good looks department, but he was pleasant enough and kind to the girls, besides the added advantage of being a successful store manager with real ambition. She liked that he was an attentive escort, dutifully sociable and generous by nature. They were only half way through the month and this was already the second Saturday night he had taken her out to The Knife and Fork, without even the need for a hint, or a nudge from her. They had officially started dating about one year ago and, thus far, she had traveled more miles with Monroe than she had the entire twelve years of her marriage to Ennis. She loved the way the man listened with respect and actually acted on things she had spoken to him about. Never mind that he had no problem taking out his wallet whenever she or the girls needed something. Alma barely remembered smartening up to go anywhere with Ennis, except maybe to a drive-in show or a diner in the early years when he still seemed to be making some effort to be a good husband. Once she had persuaded him to leave those lonesome old ranches that were located at the edge of the world, she tried to get him to apply for job openings with the city in the hopes of upping his take home pay. But, no matter what approach she tried, Ennis would inevitably grumble and come up with some excuse not to pursue the opportunity, from being too clumsy to work with electricity to not having enough schooling to pass the civil service exams.
The only time she would ever see his tight-lipped, rooted-in-place ways dissolve in an instant, was when he was about to embark on one of those regularly scheduled fishing trips he began to take up, four years into their marriage. Annual mountain excursions that had been set into motion with the arrival of a single picture post card, introducing her to an old friend she didn’t even know her reclusive husband had. On those regularly planned occasions, Ennis became more chipper than she ever remembered him being, and endowed with an out of the blue revitalized energy. Instead of his trademark grunts and growls, she actually could hear him hum and whistle. Looking more closely, she could swear that she even witnessed a bounce in his step appear from time to time. Once the actual day of departure finally rolled around, he was out the door as fast as his worn out boots could carry him, leaping down the stairwell in a mad dash to hit the road. In colder months, the truck engine would have been already warming up in the driveway with the trailer hitched up behind. Ennis already geared up to swing by his boss’ ranch to pick up a couple of horses before setting off in a compulsive rush. More often than she cared to remember, he would fail to take something essential that any seasoned sportsman would need. One time the oversight involved the rolled up sleeping bag that had been left in the closet, while another instance focused attention on an abandoned tackle box still sitting on the kitchen table. Both occurrences ended up with her having to finally remind Ennis, at the last minute, before he clumsily retrieved the item in question and headed out the door, without a word.
“Don’t ya think it’s odd that Ennis is back from his fishin’ trip earlier than he told the girls?”
Monroe swallowed a piece of the medium rare roast beef he had been trying to enjoy all evening long then took a long sip of coffee to wash down the juicy morsel. “When was he due back?”
“Sunday.”
Monroe shrugged. “Maybe the girls misunderstood. Or, once he got up there, his friend told him he couldn’t stay as long as he thought. Could even be a bad storm rolled in and they had a change in plans, cut the fishing trip short. The weather up there in the Bighorn Mountains is pretty unpredictable, you know.”
Alma shook her head in dispute. “The girls hang on their daddy’s every word. And, if his friend went back to Texas, why would Ennis need so much food this weekend? The list of groceries ya told me about means someone’s stayin’ with him. Ya said so yourself.”
Monroe hesitated, not knowing how much to fuel the flames. For some unknown reason, Alma despised the longtime fishing buddy he had yet to meet. Normally, he would be bursting with curiosity to scrutinize the source for such antipathy, but given the crusty and unfriendly ways of Ennis Del Mar, he had to admit he hardly regretted the lack of a personal introduction with the mysterious Texas pen pal. He pretty much figured anyone who could put up with such a crotchety cuss for more than a day at a time must be a fairly dull and undesirable individual, with few options for companionship. Still, he had to admit he had no idea who else Ennis might know well enough to possibly invite over for dinner.
He cleared his throat before forging ahead with caution, “I understand you don’t care much for….What’s the guy’s name, again?”
Alma cringed. Obviously, not welcoming the prospect of having to hear the one person’s name she wished she could eradicate from her life forever. Never mind having those two repellent words cross her lips in polite company. She barely opened her mouth in response to the straightforward query, “Jack…Twist.”
Monroe nodded. “I guess you could be right but, remember, Ennis did buy three steaks, yesterday.”
Just as he was about to speculate further, the waitress brought over two helpings of the hot huckleberry cobbler that came with their dinners, the concerned server immediately noticing the hardly touched food left on Alma’s plate.
“You barely ate anything tonight, Ma’am. Would you like for me to box it up for you?”
Alma looked down, outwardly embarrassed by her lack of an appetite, “That would be nice. Thank you for your trouble, Miss. I just wasn’t too hungry, I guess.” She added obligatorily, “Everything was very good though.”
Once both coffee cups had been refilled and the waitress set down the bill to concentrate on her other tables, an idea came to Monroe that he thought might provide the solution to the puzzle. He hoped the simple suggestion would finally quiet Alma’s agitation.
“Hey, didn’t you say this Jack Twist has a son? Maybe he brought him along to enjoy some time with his father.”
“Oh, I’m sure that didn’t happen,” Alma sneered, dismissively.
“Well, why not? Isn’t the boy old enough?”
“Oh, he’s old enough.”
“Then why don’t you think he brought him along?”
Arching an eyebrow, she answered with an evasive, inscrutable air. “These fishin’ trips ain’t meant for children…or wives for that matter.”
_____________________
“Stop clowning around, dumbass. You’re cacklin’ like some damn hyena.”
Except for a certain someone long schooled in the ornery ways of Ennis Del Mar, the newly donned grim expression and the dour narrowing gaze might have scared the life out of a lesser man. But, for one Jack Twist, there was undeniably something warm and familiar in the discernible twitch at the corner of an otherwise firmly set mouth, and something benign in the flicker of light that was now dancing in those two brown eyes. Where a stranger might have seen outright anger or possibly an impending reprisal, Jack had observed what, at best, might be considered a mild annoyance taking shape. Regardless, how this all played out from here, he was confident the potential reward would be more than worth the risk of continuing to play with fire, which he definitely intended to do.
Coughing into a balled up left hand, Jack tried his best to square up his posture in the hopes of projecting a mutually shared exacerbation with the current awkward situation, “Wolves like to mark their territory, Ennis. Seems like…seems like…,” he bit his lip before quickly turning around to avoid detection, rounded shoulders already shaking with an ineptly harnessed laughter.
“You’re finding this mighty amusing, aren’t ya, boy?”
A muttered protest was delivered with a strained, high pitched whine, “No.”
“Why didn’t that fluff of fur piss on your boots?”
“He…he…probably thought you were feeling left out.” Jack bent over and let out a full blown belly laugh.
“I’m sorry, Ennis. But, the look on your face is….”
“Is what?”
Jack tried to regain control, but the swiping away of tears that had now begun to stream down his face was an instant indication he was losing that particular personal battle. “It’s…one of them Kodak moments.”
Ennis folded his arms and did his best not to give in too quickly. “Is that some kind of sarcasm?”
“No.”
By now, the husky laughter had totally given way to an irrepressible giggle, leaving Jack struggling for his next breath and Ennis completely at a disadvantage. No matter how mad he wanted to be, there was nothing like witnessing a highly amused Jack Twist, the childlike hysterics a sound he realized long ago he would never grow tired of hearing. Coming up from behind, he took hold of an arm to pull Jack in close, smiling at how the halfhearted squirming his touch engendered, crumbled in an instant. Swaying backwards against the lanky frame, the solid body naturally slackened as Jack openly yielded to the tender moment they had just instinctively created. The kind of silent embrace both men had craved since that first distant summer together. Two becoming one, fused into a single column formation that spoke to an immutable need neither one could fully understand, nor adequately explain.
“You’re gonna start hiccupping soon if you don’t stop….”
Now, it was Ennis’ turn to softly chuckle at the spasmodic noise that had just gurgled up from Jack’s throat.
“Shit. I hate when… hiccup…this happens.”
“That’s what ya get for makin’ fun of my hardship.”
Jack turned his head around and gave his best hound dog expression. “I wasn’t making fun. I was just…hiccup…damnit!”
“Maybe I could help.”
“How can you….” Before Jack could argue or gather any details about the remedy being suggested, two smothering lips locked onto his in one breathtaking, extended kiss.
“Mhmmmmmmmmmmm.”
Spurred on by the encouraging response, Ennis continued to expertly tend to Jack’s needs, the conjured up cure, not surprisingly, one that was equally healing. Once both men had come up for air, an undisturbed calm had been restored; the inspired line of attack an obvious success.
Wrapping his arms around Jack even tighter, Ennis closed his eyes the moment Jack burrowed his head into the space between his chin and shoulder.
“Mhmm.”
The repeated mumbled reaction was warmly met with a wisp of smugness as Ennis settled his chin on top of the thick tuffs of dark hair.
“Thought I was just shuttin’ down some hiccups, but looks like I get a side benefit out of this.”
“Mhm. How do ya figure that?”
“Left ya speechless. I’ll have to ‘member what I did whenever you get too mouthy. Maybe bottle it up. Make some money.”
Jack’s gaze sparkled upward. “Won’t deny you’re an expert at taking my breath away. Been doin’ that since I first laid eyes on ya.”
Twisting around to better align their bodies, a low-key reproach followed, “Don’t much think I like ya profitin’ from my pain though.”
A weighty frown appeared at the undetected hidden meaning behind the words, “I didn’t....”
Jack shushed the man before he could even begin to think twice about breaking the intimate moment, one hand stroking the side of Ennis’ face to quiet and reassure, “I know. Truth is…, don’t feel much pain these days, friend. Feel real good, in fact.” Raising both eyebrows Jack waited for a confirmatory response. But, instead of words, he was treated to another kiss, lucid and clear as a mountain stream. Long and slow. No tongue. Just sheer need being met…chaste and artless.
“Mhmmmmmmmmmmm. I surely love a man who can elucidate.”
“Glad ya got my meaning,” Ennis grinned.
In what he hoped would be decades of years ahead, Jack thought he would retain this singular moment as an unmarred memory that would never fade or be dulled, regardless of the emotional hazards ahead. Similar to another indelible time and place, the entrancing happiness he felt surging through him was the kind of comfort that healed and rekindled old dreams. Back then, Ennis had come up behind to hold him close, the sparks from the campfire swirling in the air like fireflies. While stars slowly made their twilight appearance against the growing darkness. He recalled how the outdoor silence surrounded them and the soothing voice, he always hungered after, hummed next to his ear. Jack leaned against the steady heartbeat, drowsy and languid, wanting nothing more than to be where he was. Until today, the remembered moment had remained flawless, except for the knowledge that what they were trying to create now was so much better than when they were glassy-eyed lads of nineteen. Ennis had been filled with confusion and fear while Jack had been overtaken by the force of love and the hope of what was yet to come. Neither man with a clue of what they were doing, or how to handle what had hit them like a sledgehammer.
Unlike that first summer of discovery, Ennis could now not only face him, but hold on like he never wanted to let him go. Seal that promise with a sexless kiss and then give them the time to just be. Jack knew he might be setting himself up for a fall, but he actually felt some real headway was being made over these past few days. Some kind of lock tumbler clicking into place. A relationship not built on Ennis’ rules of denial and hardship, but on an alliance of two hearts bonded together in the joy of possibility. Here it was Saturday night and they had just finished another satisfying day together after waking up to one of Ennis’ eager caresses. Owing to some unusually rigorous mattress interplay, they promptly cleaned up before feeding their newborn charge and moving outside for some pack-inspired playtime. Jim had told them, the night they had been invited for dinner, that wolf pups needed constant socialization so family bonding had immediately become a vital and visible part of their parental role. Both men took turns grappling on the ground. The wolf pup encouraged to jump, pounce, roll and spin. For good measure, Jack would twirl the pup into the air to consciously establish his dominance with the added benefit of rousing a normally deadpan Ennis to laugh at his wild antics.
Once they were through with their morning workout, they responsibly put the pup to bed, allowing them to casually plan the rest of their day over an enjoyable breakfast of freshly brewed coffee, with bacon and eggs. Jack supposed he was uncharacteristically encouraging when Ennis first floated the idea of checking in at the ranch. Partly, because he wouldn’t be away from the house for more than one morning and partly because it was easier to be generous with time when he knew Ennis would be returning home to him soon. Besides that one appealing fact, Jack had to agree when Ennis spoke about how he felt like he owed the foreman some extra time. After all, Jim had pointed out, during their ride to the trailhead, that his request to take some time off to help Ennis retrieve his truck on Friday morning had been greeted without much protest. Evidently, the boss had even been thoughtful enough to ask after Ennis to see if he was alright. In the past, Jack had selfishly viewed everyone or anything that took Ennis away from their time together as an adversary worthy of scorn and certainly challenged as an irritating nuisance, if not more often an outright interloper. Jack would mutter, “Never enough time,” whenever Ennis spoke about losing his job if they tried to meet up too soon. Or, mentioned how he had to pay child support and how Jack had forgotten what it was like not to even have two sticks to rub together. He didn’t like being selfish, but he figured what they had was no little thing. His newfound tolerance was no doubt based on the undeniable reality that circumstances had changed dramatically on this particular trip. To his way of thinking, they were building a life together, which met they needed to let other people be part of that existence and, like any other couple, they had responsibilities to fulfill separate from each other. The one big difference, of course, was that they couldn’t let people know they were actually a couple. One more reason, Jack was determined to move far away from Wyoming and Texas for good. Somewhere where they didn’t need to fight old battles, but actually could start a new life and experience a fresh start, a real chance to finally move forward together.
One more thing we still need to talk about.
___________________________________
When Ennis returned that afternoon from work, Jack was surprised to see a boxed up charcoal grill in the back of the truck. He smiled knowing they had talked earlier about having a barbecue for Jim tomorrow, but when Jack had seen how Ennis’ turn of the century equipment had rotted out at the bottom from too many harsh winters and untold years of lack of use, he began to play down the out-of-doors idea. The last thing he wanted was for Ennis to feel inadequate in any way, figuring the quality of the steak was what would make the meal and that a cast iron skillet would be good enough. All that would be needed was a little garlic, salt and pepper and their planned for spread would be set. Suddenly, seeing a brand new purchase in tow, made him think that Ennis must have thought otherwise. The new addition an extravagance Jack couldn’t imagine his man indulging in just two days ago.
“This is great, Ennis. We sure could use one of these for tomorrow.”
“Figured as much. Went to the hardware store after work and thought this one would do the trick. On sale too. Picked up some charcoal and lighter fluid so I think we got everything covered.”
“Looks like a real beauty. Let’s set it up right now so we don’t have to bother with it tomorrow. We might want to sleep in a bit.” Jack winked, "Sunday’s a day of rest, ya know.”
“Every day’s a day of rest for you, Jack Fuckin’ Twist.” Ennis peeked out from the brim of his cowboy hat, an obvious smirk on his face.
“Sounds good, though. I’ll go get the toolbox. Hey, where that pup get off to?” Ennis shouted as he retrieved what he needed.
“Oh, we’ve been playing. Think I wore the little guy out.”
“Ya know, you’re gonna have to come up with a name for ‘im soon. Ya got any ideas, yet?”
Jack leaned up against the side of his truck, arms perched high, elbows flared out, his favorite position for thinking things through. By the time Ennis had returned from the shed to start assembling the loose parts, Jack was more than ready to offer some suggestions.
“Thought maybe we could come up with sumthin’ together. Figure we could go three different ways with this here christening. Could give ‘im a name that matches his personality. The only problem is it hasn’t really been formed yet. Or, we come up with sumthin’ right now that is more traditional. Ya know, something like Timber or Moonriser. Then again, we could use the name of some place or event that has a special meanin’.”
“Special meanin’? Whatya have in mind?”
“I don’t know.” Jack closed his eyes in deep thought before chuckling out his first proposal. “How ‘bout ‘Siesta’?” Or, ‘Motel’?”
Ennis didn’t even bother to look up from his task. “Very funny. Don’t ya think a wolf needs kinda a noble name?”
Jack looked skyward and stroked his chin in contemplation. “That’s true. But how do we choose between Heckel and Jeckel?”
“We don't, shithead. And, ya better not say, “How ‘bout callin' ‘im, ‘Shithead’?”
“Ya know me too well, cowboy," Jack smirked. "Aw, hell! Don’t be such a grump. I’m just havin’ some fun.”
Ennis slowly backed up to get a better look at his handiwork, dusting his hands off even though they weren’t dirty. “Grill don’t look right.”
Without even looking at the object that prompted Ennis' discontent, Jack responded with certitude. “Appears fine to me. Ya always think ya gotta work harder on sumthin’ than ya need to.”
“Might be a little lopsided. Think I’ll loosen one of them bolts.” Grabbing the screwdriver, he readjusted the stand and stepped back, this time more tolerant of the final result.
Jack’s eyes brightened, “Hey, how ‘bout ‘Hailstorm’? Seems I ‘member we had a great time that evening when that northern squall hit us up on Brokeback.”
Ennis smiled. “Sure enough. Except for havin’ to go out the next day and round up them sheep that were spooked by all that thunder and lightnin’. That was a pain in the ass.”
“It’s kinda funny. I thought so too at the time. Wanted to kick the shit out of Aguirre for being such a demandin’ asshole. But afterwards, while we were gettin’ the job done…I don’t know…. Felt kinda good pullin’ in the same direction with ya like that. Could see we worked real well together. Until then, you had been up with the sheep and I had been down at the base camp. Ya even talked ‘bout how we had to do a good job ‘cause maybe we’d be comin’ back to work for Aguirre again. Made me feel like everythin’ wasn’t gonna end between us when September rolled around.” Jack lowered his head and kicked at the ground. “Course it did.”
Ennis walked over and stood next to Jack, likewise bending backward against the truck’s metal frame, almost as if to show they were of like minds on this particular topic.
“Ya know that meadow with that sea of purty blue flowers we found the day we rode back into camp, after practically gettin' up in the middle of the night?”
Jack looked over with a nostalgic eye. “Sure. That was the mornin’ I got ya up to see that sunrise. Talk about grumpy. Ya, didn’t want to go up that mountain, as I recall. But, once ya was there, ya couldn’t stop talkin’ ‘bout all them colors that spilled out into the sky. Seems to me that was the first time ya actually held my hand without us...ya know, being preoccupied.”
Ennis met Jack’s gaze, without one trace of embarrassment. “Could be, I recall that mornin’ the same way.”
“Why’re ya bringin’ that up now?”
“Don’t laugh.”
For all his teasing ways, Jack had an uncanny ability to know, in his heart, when the time was right to cool his heels. Inexplicably, in tune with Ennis’ hidden need to not only say something about a given topic, but to say something important that Jack needed to hear. “I ain’t gonna make fun of ya.”
“Well, the blue in them flowers, they kinda made me think of you. Like clusters of sapphires sparklin’ cross the landscape. Looked them up in the Library one day. They’re called Lupines. Found out the word means wolflike.”
Damn, if that stubborn fool still don’t know how to take my breath away.
Clearing his throat to make sure he could speak the words without stumbling, Jack conceded, “Lupine, huh? Could be a good name. Guess we could call him Piney for short.”
Without saying a word, Ennis pushed away from the truck and began to meticulously gather up his tools before walking toward the front door a little faster than was necessary. “We could call ‘im Piney, I suppose. But I think, since you was the one who found the critter, that maybe Loopy would be a better fit.” With that, the door slammed shut behind him and Jack could swear he heard laughter echoing off the walls inside.
Hands on hips, he paused to take in the moment, his eyes gleaming with warmth and something that he thought might be considered close to damn near wonderment. Cloudless and suddenly unfettered by the countless years of never having what he wanted.
You're a aggravatin’, romantic sonofabitch.
“Hey, ya coward! I ain’t Loopy. That how you talk about someone with a concussion. I swear Ennis Del Mar you're a....”
Jack continued to curse underneath his breath as he followed the same path Ennis had just forged. A noticeable spring to his step and another irreplaceable memory tucked away for safekeeping. Just one more compelling reason to strengthen an already impassioned resolve never to let this aggravating man out of his sight, ever again.
Tbc