Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, written for fun, not profit. Jack, Ennis and Brokeback Mountain belong to Annie Proulx.

A/N/ denotes a memory.

Summary: What happened to Ennis's carved horse?

The Last Ride.

Ennis had convinced himself that going to Jack's grave would mean he had to admit his Rodeo was really dead, but after listening to his heart, and Junior's words that were wiser than her age allowed, he finally decided that he at least owed Jack that mark of love and respect.

The anniversary of the tire iron murder, as Ennis insisted on calling that fateful day, found him on the road to the small country cemetery where the Twist family plot was to be found. Apparently he was not the only one to remember, and he was not surprised to see Mrs Twist laying a posy of fresh flowers against the headstone. Not wanting to disturb her, or to share his grief with anyone but Jack, Ennis parked his truck aways down the road and waited until the old lady finally left.

Making his way slowly with hat reverently in hand, tears streaming down his face, Ennis allowed his thoughts to wander back to Brokeback and a time when all was right between him and Jack.

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/Although he could feel something hard and promising pressing against his ass, the cold air on his naked back told him that Ennis was too far away and Jack reached sleepily behind with one hand to draw him close.

"Ennis? Ready for another round are you, Cowboy?" he called softly, rolling onto his back so that the could see his lover, only to grunt in pain as the hard object dug sharply into the soft flesh of his right ass cheek. The erection that had begun hardening in response to lusty thoughts died rapidly with Jack's anger as he pulled a small wooden object from under him and threw it towards the open tent flaps, just missing Ennis who had stepped outside to take a piss.

"What the fuck? Was that my little horse?" Ennis exclaimed, picking up the carving that had landed at his feet.

"Call that a horse?" Jack scoffed angrily even as he shifted over to give Ennis room to lie beside him.

"Yup. " Ennis replied in a maddeningly calm voice, obviously intending to let Jack rave a little. Liked him feisty, he had to admit.

"Well if'n that's the best you can whittle, then all I can say is you got no call tellin' me my harmonica playing is bad," Jack replied, still rubbing his bruised backside. Ennis smiled the smile that always melted Jack's bones and covered his hand with his own.

"Rough ride, huh Rodeo?" he teased. His playful mood was contagious and the seductive way Ennis had about him that made Jack feel real special, was a real turn on.

"Yeah, your fuckin' little horse ain't the kind of wood I want pokin' me in the ass let me tell you, friend," Jack pouted, his eyes darkening with lust and his breathing became more ragged as Ennis slowly massaged the bruise.

"Never called it that before, but I can't say as I want to give me dick a name like that," Ennis deliberately misunderstood. Jack laughed, anger gone as he sought Ennis's lips for a brutally passionate kiss.

"Ya really don't want any more sex?" he asked, grinning wickedly when the kiss ended.

"Now Ennis, don't get sassy, you know what I meeant. Of course I want sex, as much as you can give me," Jack retorted, wincing slightly as he accidentally shifted onto the tender spot on his ass when Ennis wrapped his arms around his lover's chest. Jack leant back into the embrace, and for a moment, both were content to simply enjoy the feeling of intimacy until it was caught up in the flames of burning desire.

"And I'm more than willing to oblige. Want I should kiss your ass better first, make it more pleasurable like?" Ennis whispered, lips pressing against hot, flushed skin as he began kissing his way down Jack's spine.

"I sure as hell do!" Jack moaned just at the thought of being tongue fucked by Ennis almost enough to bring him undone. /

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To Ennis, the little wooden horse he stood lovingly next to the headstone as he sank to his knees and wept his heart out for his little darlin'represented the days long before life and death swept them apart.

A time he thought would never be able to be recaptured until he returned the next year and found the elegantly carved rodeo rider on his horse from Jack's room standing alongside his, as if waiting until the day his cowboy was ready to mount so that they could ride out to Brokeback together.