Rawhide Chapter 2
Title: Rawhide
Author: PetiteMiel
Pairing: Jack/Ennis
Rating: NC-17(eventually)
Warning: Contains harsh language, violence, m/m sexual encounters.
Disclaimer: All characters from Brokeback Mountain belong to Ann Proulx. I am just borrowing them and make no money from their use. No copyright infringement is intended. All other characters are mine.
Summary: Au!Au. This story takes place in 1867. Ennis is an eighteen year old wrangler at the Triple T Ranch in Texas where Jack, a sixteen year old runaway is hired for the upcoming cattle drive to Montana.
AN:This is the first time I've written BBM fanfic. The story is un beta'd so all errors are mine.
Arlene, Texas
Spring, 1867
Ennis leaned against the doorway of the bunkhouse, one hand deep in his pants pocket the other drawing the cigarette from between his lips. He exhaled a minute later, the smoke curling around his head before drifting away on the warm, spring breeze. He stared out at the horizon, the sunset painting the clouds a deep purple and a burnt orange as he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of Bluebonnets. It was a quiet night, the stillness a pleasant companion for the restlessness he held inside and he looked toward the west telling himself he wasn’t looking for anything particular and then cursing himself a liar.
Red and Jack had been gone for over an hour and he was anxious to learn if Jack would be sticking around or moving on. He didn’t know why but he had liked Jack right off and that didn’t happen too often, least ways not for him. He wondered if it might be ‘cause they were so close in age. He was pretty sure Jack was a couple years younger then him but he was still closer to his age then any of the other ranch hands. Then again maybe it was just Jack’s easy smile and his boisterous ways that had gotten his attention. He seemed like the friendly sort and Ennis had been sorely lacking when it came to friends for quite some time. The other men he worked with were nice enough but there was just something about Jack that seemed to fit.
He sighed, knowing there were likely other reasons as well but none he was prepared to admit to, not even to himself. Didn’t much matter either way though. Red would decide and that was that.
Red was a good foreman and a fair man and would usually give a fella a chance if he thought he knew his stuff. Jack had shown him he could handle a horse but getting one to work a herd was a skill not everyone possessed. Still, Ennis had a feeling Jack new what he was doing at least he hoped he did.
The smell of stew cooking on the stove drifted out to him distracting him from his thoughts, his stomach rumbling loudly reminding him he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He glanced over his shoulder at Charlie where he stood fussing over their supper.
The ranch hand was about thirty-five years old, short and stout with a balding head and an ill temper. He had worked at the Triple T for as long as anyone could remember and according to the other men his bent back and the limp he walked with were the result of getting stomped by a bull during a stampede some years back. He had been lucky to survive but it had left him too broken up to spend his days in the saddle so he had been kept on as a cook. Ennis wondered if that was the reason for his cranky disposition and figured if it was he couldn’t fault him for it. Getting stomped by a bull was bound to leave you scarred one way or another.
He watched him for another minute then turned back to the yard. There was still no sign of Red and Jack so he pinched off the end of his cigarette, sliding it into his shirt pocket so he could save the rest for later and headed inside. It wouldn’t do no good to worry over it anyway he told himself.
As he stepped over the threshold several men got up from their bunks and joined him at the table. He sat on the far side of it, the others taking their usual places while they waited on Charlie to finish cooking, their appetites considerable after a hard days work.
The tin plates they ate from were already on the table as were the spoons and cups they usually used. Ennis reached for the pitcher of water that sat in front of him filling his cup to the brim just as Charlie stepped away from the stove, cook pot in hand. Ennis didn’t care much for soup but stew was something he’d come to enjoy. With its large potatoes and chunks of meat it was more like a meal and enough to fill up the hungriest man.
It was spooned out in large portions and Ennis dug in then helped himself to some of the sourdough bread Charlie had made the night before. The other men talked as they ate discussing the upcoming cattle drive, the condition of their gear and the weather. Their voices were a welcome distraction but not wholly effective as Ennis only half listened keeping one eye on the yard through the open doorway.
His diligence was rewarded a few minutes later though when he spotted two riders cutting across the compound toward the stable. He couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face at the sight of them and he almost got up, eager to hear what news there was but then thought better of it realizing he was being foolish. If Jack were staying on he’d be joining them soon enough so he turned his attention to his meal and tried not to think about the young man or why his continued presence had suddenly become so important to him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack walked Acorn into the stable putting her in one of the empty stalls near the back. He removed her saddle and blanket quickly then picked up a brush he’d spotted on the shelf and worked it slowly over the horse’s body smoothing out her coat. She seemed to appreciate the gesture, nuzzling him as he worked and bumping him with her nose playfully, making him laugh softly to himself.
“Jack, ya done good out there.” Red said as he walked over to the stall noticing the way the horse seemed to be flirting with the young man.
“Wasn’t all me. This little lady did her share of the work.” He replied stroking the horse between the eyes then running his hand down her nose.
“Yeah she’s gonna make a fine cuttin’ horse no doubt about it. I think ya should let me take over now though while ya head on over to the bunkhouse. Find yourself a place to sleep and get ya some food to eat. I’ll let Mr. Taylor know I give ya the job and tomorrow ya can start by helping Ennis with the horses. He’ll show ya what to do.”
Jack’s smile spread across his face and he reached out shaking Red’s hand.
“Yes sir…I’m mean Red …I mean Thanks.” Jack said his excitement getting him flustered.
“Alright, alright go on now.” Red said chuckling softly as Jack finally let go of his hand and gave him the brush instead. He watched Jack go shaking his head slightly smile after him.
Jack started toward the bunkhouse, his feet barely touching the ground as he raced across the compound, then he came to a sudden stop sending a spray of dust into the air as he turned toward the corral. He spied his ditty bag lying where he’d left it earlier and he hurried over to get it. Picking it up he glanced inside at its meager contents; a change of clothes, a pair of work gloves, a knitted scarf his mama had given him for Christmas the year before and a dime novel about a rodeo rider named Larabie. It wasn’t much to show for almost sixteen years of living but it was all he had and he meant to keep hold of it.
Closing the sack he turned back toward the bunkhouse his pace slowing as he approached the building. It wasn’t much to look at just a long, squat structure made of rough wood hungry for the taste of paint. It had a small porch in front with two chairs and a rickety bench to sit on, a door and one glassless window with naught but a shutter to keep out the wind and cold in the winter months. Of course this being April the shudder was thrown wide as was the door and the soft lamplight shining through them seemed warm and inviting in a way his own home never had.
It drew him forward until he found himself standing in the doorway, eight pair of eyes looking up from their supper as he entered and he suddenly felt uncertain not knowing what to say or do. He discovered a second later that there was no real need, the men knowing he wouldn’t have been sent to the bunkhouse unless he’d been hired on.
“Ya wanna eat there’s stew on the stove. Help yourself.” Charlie said soaking up the broth on the bottom of his plate with a piece of bread.
“Ya can use the bottom bunk in the back corner there.” A man with a handlebar mustache added pointing to the bunk in question.
“Thanks.” Jack said nodding once as he made his way inside.
There were three sets of bunk beds on the North and South sides of the building providing enough beds for twelve men. Jack only saw eight at the table but with himself and Red it was coming close to being a full house. He hung his ditty bag on a nail attached to the wall near the foot of the bed beside two other sacks he found there, hanging his hat on another higher up. Then removing his coat he set it on the thin mattress of his bunk before making his way over to the stove. He took a tin plate and a spoon from the small shelf on the wall beside it, filling the plate to the brim then turned toward the table.
It was long and narrow, made of the same rough wood as the building with two long benches, one on either side of it and a chair at each end. It sat in the center of the room taking up what space the stove and bunks did not. Ennis scooted over making just enough room for Jack and he sat down setting his plate in front of him, the smell of the stew making his mouth water and his stomach growl.
The food was good. Not quite as good as his mama could make but he wasn’t in a position to be picky and after going so long without he wasn’t gonna complain. He hadn’t had a good meal since leaving home and it showed in the way he devoured his food, hardly breathing between spoonfuls but no one commented on this. All the men at that table had known hunger a time or two in their lives and understood without being told that it had been a far space between this meal and Jack’s last.
Taking another bite Jack tried to slow down, wanting to savor the taste of each mouthful but his hunger was fierce and it was only the discovery a few minutes later of something else he wanted to savor more that slowed his hand. The nearness of Ennis had a distracting effect, the tingling feeling running up and down his spine every time his shoulder brushed against Ennis, the way his heart sped up when their knees bumped under the table and the way his breath seemed to catch when their fingers touched while reaching for the bread was soon replacing thoughts of food with something else. It was a new experience for Jack both exciting and scary at the same time and it filled up a place in him he hadn’t even known was empty.
He wanted to look over at Ennis, to see if he felt it too but the thoughts that were running through his mind were already bringing a blush to his cheeks and he knew if he looked at him right then it would be his undoing. Instead he lowered his head, stared at his supper and took another bite knowing full well that no matter how much he ate it would never be as satisfying as those brief touches had been.
“What’s your name?” The question was jarring, pulling Jack from his thoughts and he glanced up looking across from him at the fella with the handlebar mustache.
“Uh…What?”
“Your name? I’m K.C. That’s short for Kenneth Clarkson.”
“Uh, Jack. Jack Twist.” He replied finally, grateful for the distraction.
“Where ya from Jack?”
“Just outside of Gainesville.”
“Gainesville huh? I don’t think I ever been there.”
“Ya ain’t missing much.” Jack said as he took another bite of his stew.
“I’ve found that to be true a most towns. “ He replied as he reached for his cup and swallowed deep before he spoke again.
“I tell ya what Jack since your new here let me take care of the howdy do’s. The fella on your right is Henry Thompson but we just call him Hank and that mean old coot on the end down there is Charlie Stanton. He does all the cooking ‘round here so if you got any complaints on that score he’s the one to see only he don’t want to hear it so don’t bother. This handsome devil is Walter Smith.“ He said putting his arm around the shoulder of the man sitting next to him who promptly shrugged it off, the three scars that ran down the right side of his face glaring angrily in the lamp light as he did. K.C. just laughed at this seemingly unperturbed and continued with the introductions.
“The brown haired dandy with the red kerchief is Billy Beckett and that big fella next to him is John Gibson but he don’t like the name his mama give him so he goes by Bull. This fella on my left is Josh Allen and believe it or not he come here all the way from New York City. I guess they run out of things to rope and ride and shoot back East. And that lanky wrangler next to you is Ennis delMar but ya already met him didn’t ya?”
“Uh…yeah. Nice to meet y’all.” Jack said glancing around the table at everyone but Ennis.
The other men nodded curtly, some smiled, some didn’t but they all continuing to eat their supper not wanting to be kept from their food.
The rest of the meal was silent except for the sound of metal spoons scrapping along tin plates, the slurping of broth and the occasional belch. When they were finished they rose from the table setting their plates and spoons in a large wooden bucket beside the stove then they drifted outside to talk and smoke or went to their bunks to prepare for bed.
“Anyone want this? There’s a little left.” Charlie asked, as he stood hunched over the stove staring into the pot.
Jack looked up when no one answered then turned in his seat handing Charlie his plate, not wanting to let any of it go to waste. Ennis smiled to himself at this then reached over placing the last piece of bread on the side of Jack’s plate before getting up and heading out the door.
Jack looked up at this small kindness, his eyes following the other man across the yard until he was out of sight and suddenly he felt like he could breath again. He knew he was being foolish. Ennis couldn’t see what was going on inside his head so why should he worry, still better to be safe then sorry he thought.
He finished his meal shortly after unable to keep the smile from his face, the feeling of being full one he hadn’t had in months. Standing up he grabbed up the bucket full of dirty dishes and asked Charlie if he needed any help cleaning up. The other man just looked at him surprised by the offer then shook his head his expression stern.
“Naw, I can handle the dishes I think.” He said a touch of anger in his voice as he snatched the bucket from Jack’s hands. “Ya best git some sleep though boy. You’re gonna need it come morning.”
He brushed past Jack roughly and headed outside to the pump. Jack stared after him, his brow creased as a frown replaced his usual grin not sure what he had done to offend the man.
“Don’t let it bother ya.” Ennis said as he walked back inside heading for his bunk, which sat beside Jack’s.
“Huh?”
“He’s like that with everybody.”
“Yeah, he’s sour as grapes old Charlie is.” K.C. added from the bunk above Ennis’.
Jack looked at the two men then looked back toward the door biting his bottom lip, his frown deepening for a moment before deciding to let it go. He stepped across the room to his bunk instead. There was one wool blanket folded at its foot and he spread it out over the mattress then sat down pulling off his boots preparing to take Charlie’s advice.
Ennis and several of the other men were likewise engaged and Jack continued undressing, doing his best not to watch as Ennis stood up and stripped off his shirt but he could feel his eyes betraying him. He was soon staring at the muscular arms and strong back that Ennis’ thin shirt had hidden and he licked his lips the sight doing something funny to his insides. It was only after Ennis started undoing his pants that Jack looked away, not wanting to get caught staring at another fella as that kinda thing had gotten him in trouble before.
He swallowed hard running a hand through his thick hair then removed the rest of his clothes until he was wearing nothing but his long johns and his socks. He slipped under the blanket his head resting on the flat pillow a second later and he sighed at the feel of a bed beneath him. He’d spent too many nights sleeping on the cold ground and even though the mattress was thin it felt like heaven to him.
Rolling onto his side he dared to glance over at Ennis who lay on his own bed, flat on his back, his eyes closed as though already in sleep. Jack studied his face for a second deciding that he liked the looks of it as much as any other parts of him he’d seen and just this once he wasn’t gonna worry about what that meant. Instead he rolled over facing the wall as he pulled the blanket up over his shoulder and closed his eyes knowing who he’d be dreaming about tonight.
TBC
Author: PetiteMiel
Pairing: Jack/Ennis
Rating: NC-17(eventually)
Warning: Contains harsh language, violence, m/m sexual encounters.
Disclaimer: All characters from Brokeback Mountain belong to Ann Proulx. I am just borrowing them and make no money from their use. No copyright infringement is intended. All other characters are mine.
Summary: Au!Au. This story takes place in 1867. Ennis is an eighteen year old wrangler at the Triple T Ranch in Texas where Jack, a sixteen year old runaway is hired for the upcoming cattle drive to Montana.
AN:This is the first time I've written BBM fanfic. The story is un beta'd so all errors are mine.
Arlene, Texas
Spring, 1867
Ennis leaned against the doorway of the bunkhouse, one hand deep in his pants pocket the other drawing the cigarette from between his lips. He exhaled a minute later, the smoke curling around his head before drifting away on the warm, spring breeze. He stared out at the horizon, the sunset painting the clouds a deep purple and a burnt orange as he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of Bluebonnets. It was a quiet night, the stillness a pleasant companion for the restlessness he held inside and he looked toward the west telling himself he wasn’t looking for anything particular and then cursing himself a liar.
Red and Jack had been gone for over an hour and he was anxious to learn if Jack would be sticking around or moving on. He didn’t know why but he had liked Jack right off and that didn’t happen too often, least ways not for him. He wondered if it might be ‘cause they were so close in age. He was pretty sure Jack was a couple years younger then him but he was still closer to his age then any of the other ranch hands. Then again maybe it was just Jack’s easy smile and his boisterous ways that had gotten his attention. He seemed like the friendly sort and Ennis had been sorely lacking when it came to friends for quite some time. The other men he worked with were nice enough but there was just something about Jack that seemed to fit.
He sighed, knowing there were likely other reasons as well but none he was prepared to admit to, not even to himself. Didn’t much matter either way though. Red would decide and that was that.
Red was a good foreman and a fair man and would usually give a fella a chance if he thought he knew his stuff. Jack had shown him he could handle a horse but getting one to work a herd was a skill not everyone possessed. Still, Ennis had a feeling Jack new what he was doing at least he hoped he did.
The smell of stew cooking on the stove drifted out to him distracting him from his thoughts, his stomach rumbling loudly reminding him he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He glanced over his shoulder at Charlie where he stood fussing over their supper.
The ranch hand was about thirty-five years old, short and stout with a balding head and an ill temper. He had worked at the Triple T for as long as anyone could remember and according to the other men his bent back and the limp he walked with were the result of getting stomped by a bull during a stampede some years back. He had been lucky to survive but it had left him too broken up to spend his days in the saddle so he had been kept on as a cook. Ennis wondered if that was the reason for his cranky disposition and figured if it was he couldn’t fault him for it. Getting stomped by a bull was bound to leave you scarred one way or another.
He watched him for another minute then turned back to the yard. There was still no sign of Red and Jack so he pinched off the end of his cigarette, sliding it into his shirt pocket so he could save the rest for later and headed inside. It wouldn’t do no good to worry over it anyway he told himself.
As he stepped over the threshold several men got up from their bunks and joined him at the table. He sat on the far side of it, the others taking their usual places while they waited on Charlie to finish cooking, their appetites considerable after a hard days work.
The tin plates they ate from were already on the table as were the spoons and cups they usually used. Ennis reached for the pitcher of water that sat in front of him filling his cup to the brim just as Charlie stepped away from the stove, cook pot in hand. Ennis didn’t care much for soup but stew was something he’d come to enjoy. With its large potatoes and chunks of meat it was more like a meal and enough to fill up the hungriest man.
It was spooned out in large portions and Ennis dug in then helped himself to some of the sourdough bread Charlie had made the night before. The other men talked as they ate discussing the upcoming cattle drive, the condition of their gear and the weather. Their voices were a welcome distraction but not wholly effective as Ennis only half listened keeping one eye on the yard through the open doorway.
His diligence was rewarded a few minutes later though when he spotted two riders cutting across the compound toward the stable. He couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face at the sight of them and he almost got up, eager to hear what news there was but then thought better of it realizing he was being foolish. If Jack were staying on he’d be joining them soon enough so he turned his attention to his meal and tried not to think about the young man or why his continued presence had suddenly become so important to him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack walked Acorn into the stable putting her in one of the empty stalls near the back. He removed her saddle and blanket quickly then picked up a brush he’d spotted on the shelf and worked it slowly over the horse’s body smoothing out her coat. She seemed to appreciate the gesture, nuzzling him as he worked and bumping him with her nose playfully, making him laugh softly to himself.
“Jack, ya done good out there.” Red said as he walked over to the stall noticing the way the horse seemed to be flirting with the young man.
“Wasn’t all me. This little lady did her share of the work.” He replied stroking the horse between the eyes then running his hand down her nose.
“Yeah she’s gonna make a fine cuttin’ horse no doubt about it. I think ya should let me take over now though while ya head on over to the bunkhouse. Find yourself a place to sleep and get ya some food to eat. I’ll let Mr. Taylor know I give ya the job and tomorrow ya can start by helping Ennis with the horses. He’ll show ya what to do.”
Jack’s smile spread across his face and he reached out shaking Red’s hand.
“Yes sir…I’m mean Red …I mean Thanks.” Jack said his excitement getting him flustered.
“Alright, alright go on now.” Red said chuckling softly as Jack finally let go of his hand and gave him the brush instead. He watched Jack go shaking his head slightly smile after him.
Jack started toward the bunkhouse, his feet barely touching the ground as he raced across the compound, then he came to a sudden stop sending a spray of dust into the air as he turned toward the corral. He spied his ditty bag lying where he’d left it earlier and he hurried over to get it. Picking it up he glanced inside at its meager contents; a change of clothes, a pair of work gloves, a knitted scarf his mama had given him for Christmas the year before and a dime novel about a rodeo rider named Larabie. It wasn’t much to show for almost sixteen years of living but it was all he had and he meant to keep hold of it.
Closing the sack he turned back toward the bunkhouse his pace slowing as he approached the building. It wasn’t much to look at just a long, squat structure made of rough wood hungry for the taste of paint. It had a small porch in front with two chairs and a rickety bench to sit on, a door and one glassless window with naught but a shutter to keep out the wind and cold in the winter months. Of course this being April the shudder was thrown wide as was the door and the soft lamplight shining through them seemed warm and inviting in a way his own home never had.
It drew him forward until he found himself standing in the doorway, eight pair of eyes looking up from their supper as he entered and he suddenly felt uncertain not knowing what to say or do. He discovered a second later that there was no real need, the men knowing he wouldn’t have been sent to the bunkhouse unless he’d been hired on.
“Ya wanna eat there’s stew on the stove. Help yourself.” Charlie said soaking up the broth on the bottom of his plate with a piece of bread.
“Ya can use the bottom bunk in the back corner there.” A man with a handlebar mustache added pointing to the bunk in question.
“Thanks.” Jack said nodding once as he made his way inside.
There were three sets of bunk beds on the North and South sides of the building providing enough beds for twelve men. Jack only saw eight at the table but with himself and Red it was coming close to being a full house. He hung his ditty bag on a nail attached to the wall near the foot of the bed beside two other sacks he found there, hanging his hat on another higher up. Then removing his coat he set it on the thin mattress of his bunk before making his way over to the stove. He took a tin plate and a spoon from the small shelf on the wall beside it, filling the plate to the brim then turned toward the table.
It was long and narrow, made of the same rough wood as the building with two long benches, one on either side of it and a chair at each end. It sat in the center of the room taking up what space the stove and bunks did not. Ennis scooted over making just enough room for Jack and he sat down setting his plate in front of him, the smell of the stew making his mouth water and his stomach growl.
The food was good. Not quite as good as his mama could make but he wasn’t in a position to be picky and after going so long without he wasn’t gonna complain. He hadn’t had a good meal since leaving home and it showed in the way he devoured his food, hardly breathing between spoonfuls but no one commented on this. All the men at that table had known hunger a time or two in their lives and understood without being told that it had been a far space between this meal and Jack’s last.
Taking another bite Jack tried to slow down, wanting to savor the taste of each mouthful but his hunger was fierce and it was only the discovery a few minutes later of something else he wanted to savor more that slowed his hand. The nearness of Ennis had a distracting effect, the tingling feeling running up and down his spine every time his shoulder brushed against Ennis, the way his heart sped up when their knees bumped under the table and the way his breath seemed to catch when their fingers touched while reaching for the bread was soon replacing thoughts of food with something else. It was a new experience for Jack both exciting and scary at the same time and it filled up a place in him he hadn’t even known was empty.
He wanted to look over at Ennis, to see if he felt it too but the thoughts that were running through his mind were already bringing a blush to his cheeks and he knew if he looked at him right then it would be his undoing. Instead he lowered his head, stared at his supper and took another bite knowing full well that no matter how much he ate it would never be as satisfying as those brief touches had been.
“What’s your name?” The question was jarring, pulling Jack from his thoughts and he glanced up looking across from him at the fella with the handlebar mustache.
“Uh…What?”
“Your name? I’m K.C. That’s short for Kenneth Clarkson.”
“Uh, Jack. Jack Twist.” He replied finally, grateful for the distraction.
“Where ya from Jack?”
“Just outside of Gainesville.”
“Gainesville huh? I don’t think I ever been there.”
“Ya ain’t missing much.” Jack said as he took another bite of his stew.
“I’ve found that to be true a most towns. “ He replied as he reached for his cup and swallowed deep before he spoke again.
“I tell ya what Jack since your new here let me take care of the howdy do’s. The fella on your right is Henry Thompson but we just call him Hank and that mean old coot on the end down there is Charlie Stanton. He does all the cooking ‘round here so if you got any complaints on that score he’s the one to see only he don’t want to hear it so don’t bother. This handsome devil is Walter Smith.“ He said putting his arm around the shoulder of the man sitting next to him who promptly shrugged it off, the three scars that ran down the right side of his face glaring angrily in the lamp light as he did. K.C. just laughed at this seemingly unperturbed and continued with the introductions.
“The brown haired dandy with the red kerchief is Billy Beckett and that big fella next to him is John Gibson but he don’t like the name his mama give him so he goes by Bull. This fella on my left is Josh Allen and believe it or not he come here all the way from New York City. I guess they run out of things to rope and ride and shoot back East. And that lanky wrangler next to you is Ennis delMar but ya already met him didn’t ya?”
“Uh…yeah. Nice to meet y’all.” Jack said glancing around the table at everyone but Ennis.
The other men nodded curtly, some smiled, some didn’t but they all continuing to eat their supper not wanting to be kept from their food.
The rest of the meal was silent except for the sound of metal spoons scrapping along tin plates, the slurping of broth and the occasional belch. When they were finished they rose from the table setting their plates and spoons in a large wooden bucket beside the stove then they drifted outside to talk and smoke or went to their bunks to prepare for bed.
“Anyone want this? There’s a little left.” Charlie asked, as he stood hunched over the stove staring into the pot.
Jack looked up when no one answered then turned in his seat handing Charlie his plate, not wanting to let any of it go to waste. Ennis smiled to himself at this then reached over placing the last piece of bread on the side of Jack’s plate before getting up and heading out the door.
Jack looked up at this small kindness, his eyes following the other man across the yard until he was out of sight and suddenly he felt like he could breath again. He knew he was being foolish. Ennis couldn’t see what was going on inside his head so why should he worry, still better to be safe then sorry he thought.
He finished his meal shortly after unable to keep the smile from his face, the feeling of being full one he hadn’t had in months. Standing up he grabbed up the bucket full of dirty dishes and asked Charlie if he needed any help cleaning up. The other man just looked at him surprised by the offer then shook his head his expression stern.
“Naw, I can handle the dishes I think.” He said a touch of anger in his voice as he snatched the bucket from Jack’s hands. “Ya best git some sleep though boy. You’re gonna need it come morning.”
He brushed past Jack roughly and headed outside to the pump. Jack stared after him, his brow creased as a frown replaced his usual grin not sure what he had done to offend the man.
“Don’t let it bother ya.” Ennis said as he walked back inside heading for his bunk, which sat beside Jack’s.
“Huh?”
“He’s like that with everybody.”
“Yeah, he’s sour as grapes old Charlie is.” K.C. added from the bunk above Ennis’.
Jack looked at the two men then looked back toward the door biting his bottom lip, his frown deepening for a moment before deciding to let it go. He stepped across the room to his bunk instead. There was one wool blanket folded at its foot and he spread it out over the mattress then sat down pulling off his boots preparing to take Charlie’s advice.
Ennis and several of the other men were likewise engaged and Jack continued undressing, doing his best not to watch as Ennis stood up and stripped off his shirt but he could feel his eyes betraying him. He was soon staring at the muscular arms and strong back that Ennis’ thin shirt had hidden and he licked his lips the sight doing something funny to his insides. It was only after Ennis started undoing his pants that Jack looked away, not wanting to get caught staring at another fella as that kinda thing had gotten him in trouble before.
He swallowed hard running a hand through his thick hair then removed the rest of his clothes until he was wearing nothing but his long johns and his socks. He slipped under the blanket his head resting on the flat pillow a second later and he sighed at the feel of a bed beneath him. He’d spent too many nights sleeping on the cold ground and even though the mattress was thin it felt like heaven to him.
Rolling onto his side he dared to glance over at Ennis who lay on his own bed, flat on his back, his eyes closed as though already in sleep. Jack studied his face for a second deciding that he liked the looks of it as much as any other parts of him he’d seen and just this once he wasn’t gonna worry about what that meant. Instead he rolled over facing the wall as he pulled the blanket up over his shoulder and closed his eyes knowing who he’d be dreaming about tonight.
TBC