Blood is Thicker than Water, Love is Thicker than Time

by gracefultree

Alma Junior is seven years old when her daddy leaves her and her sister and her mommy. She remembers her parents arguing, slamming doors, and a string of bad words. But she also remembers the man with the blue eyes and big smile who had been nice to her. The man who made her daddy smile wider than anything.

2. Chapter 1: Conversations by the Fire

Blood is Thicker than Water... Love is Thicker than Time

Chapter 1: Contentment

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Ennis del Mar, at nineteen, was not known for feeling things. In fact, if someone suggested he did, he would quickly tell them to fuck off. (Politely if they were female, with a punch to the face if not.) The only feeling he had, as far as he knew, was anger, and that wasn't really a feeling in his book. That was just part of being a man. He might have felt things as a kid, like sadness when his parents died, or happiness when he caught that firefly one summer when he was seven, but he didn't have much time for any of that after they died and had to get on with life. He couldn't remember what it was like to be sad, having pushed it away so long ago. But now, now he was feeling something. He wasn't quite sure what it was, and he wasn't sure he liked it, or disliked it, for that matter, but it was there, and had been for the last week or so. Mostly in the evenings, when he sat around the fire with Jack Twist.

Jack was quickly becoming a friend. Ennis knew this, though he had no idea how it was happening. He'd never had a friend like Jack before, someone to shoot the shit with, someone to laugh with. Someone who didn't mind that Ennis was mostly silent and who didn't pressure Ennis to talk. Jack seemed to understand him. Jack seemed to be the kind of man who would listen to Ennis without judging him. Ennis thought he rather liked that.

Tonight, three weeks into their summer job tending sheep up on Brokeback Maountain, Ennis took a large swallow of whiskey and decided to say something. He waited for a lull in the conversation. (By lull, he meant when Jack paused for breath between stories, of course.) "Jack?" he asked tentatively.

Jack looked over in surprise, accepting the whiskey Ennis passed. "You say something?" he responded. Ennis had never said his name before, usually just calling him 'bud' or 'you.'

"What's that word for bein' happy with what ya got?"

"Uh, I guess it could be alotta things. Can ya be more specific?"

"Well, we're sittin' here, nice 'n warm from the fire, got us whiskey and smokes. Got a job for the summer and pleasant company when none was expected. What's the word for likin' that?"

Jack smiled. "I think the word you're lookin' for is 'content.' Bein' happy with what ya got, like you said, an' not needin' more."

Ennis grunted. "Yeah, maybe that's it." He stretched his legs out farther towards the fire and lowered his hat over his eyes. Jack watched him for five minutes before getting up and dusting off his jeans. He tapped his booted foot against Ennis' boots, just to tease him. Ennis hated it when Jack did that.

"Well, cowboy, I'm off t' watch them sheep."

Ennis grunted acknowledgement. He spent the rest of the night until the fire burned down staring into it and contemplating the word. Content. Was he content? For the first time in his life, he thought he just might be.