Chapter Four

November 25, 1976

Beau debated with himself for another few seconds, then turned the truck off, got out, and slammed the door behind him. He stepped back in the bar, his heart racing with apprehension. The beat of the juke box was heavy as he looked around the dimming light of the bar. He didn't see Tyler or the three men who'd walked in shortly before he and Tyler had left. He looked towards the bar, hoping the bartender had seen what happened, but he was engrossed in a conversation with a customer at the other end of the bar. Beau turned towards the restrooms, which were separated from the main part of the bar by a wall. He reached the door of the men's room and put his hand up to push his way in and felt, more than heard, a deep thump come from inside.

Beau pushed open the door and stopped, his heart in his throat. Across from him, Tyler was against the wall, held by two men, his head hanging. Jim Jackson turned at the sound of the door opening and a big grin cracked his face. For a second, it reminded Beau of a leering demon picture he'd seen once, as a kid. The memory of it had kept him awake at night for weeks.

"Ah, so here's the pretty girl–I mean, boyfriend," Jim said. "Come on, boys, he's next."

"Let him go," Beau said. At his voice, Tyler looked up. One of his eyes was already swelling shut and a dark, wet river ran from his nose, around his mouth, and onto his shirt.

"Wait, I ain't done. Gonna make this boy remember his place. He ain't a man, ain't a warrior. He's nothing. And he's gonna remember it," the man who looked like Tyler snarled.

"Steve, please," Tyler rasped out. It clicked in Beau's mind who this must be–Tyler's older brother.

Steve grabbed Tyler's braid in one hand and, faster than Beau thought possible, there was a flash of silver and the braid was hanging loose in Steve's hand. Steve let his brother go and he sagged into the other man, who released him as he slid to the ground. Beau took another step forward, but Jim stopped him, the mocking grin still on his face. "You stay right there, pretty boy." The threat, which had only lurked beneath the surface before, was now crystal clear.

Beau's hands clenched into fists and he fought to control the rage that suddenly overtook him. It wasn't fair that he and Tyler were treated like this, just because of who they loved, and he was sick of taking it, sick of the comments, sick of the abuse, and, mostly, he was sick of being afraid. "Get the hell out of here right now," he snarled between clenched teeth.

"Oh, he's got a fire in him. This should be fun," Jim said, turning to look at Steve and the other man. As he turned back, the smile still plastered on his face, Beau's fist met his jaw with a succulent crack and he fell backwards, caught off-guard. The back of his head hit the divider between the stalls and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"Fuck! Come on, Steve, let's get the hell out of here!"

Steve stepped towards Beau, the knife held up before him. "No, Lee, this white boy needs a hair cut, too. Needs to know his place."

Beau put his hands up. "Come on, man, I don't want any trouble. Just let me and Tyler leave."

"He ain't leaving with you, white boy, and you ain't walkin outta here." Steve made a move towards him, but Beau put up his arm to deflect the blow. "Grab him, Lee," Steve said to his companion, just as the door to the restroom opened.

An old man stood there, unsteady on drunken feet, his eyes wide. Beau thought they must make quite a picture, two men down, three still standing, one holding a knife. "I . . . I . . . I just gotta take a piss," the old man said, as he started to back out.

Lee grabbed Steve's arm and pushed past the man. "Fuck it. Come on, we're leaving. Now." Steve didn't argue this time, just glared at Beau and the old man as he left.

Beau bent next to Tyler and reached out a trembling hand. "Tyler? Can you hear me, baby?"

Tyler looked up at him, one eye now swelled shut, the other unfocused. "Ssuurre . . ." he slurred.

Beau helped him to his feet. "We better get outta here. Can you walk?"

Tyler's head slumped to Beau's shoulder, but he started walking forward, leaning on Beau for support. The old man stepped out of the way as they went by him, his eyes wide.

Beau got him out to the truck, thankful that Steve and Lee weren't outside waiting to finish the job they'd started. He helped Tyler into the truck and then got in. "I'm taking you to the hospital," he said as he backed up and drove out of the parking lot, before risking a glance at Tyler. His hands started shaking when he realized that Tyler's white t-shirt was covered with blood. Oh, God, maybe Steve didn't use the knife on only his hair. He reached across the seat for Tyler's hand, which was lying limply on the seat, and squeezed reassuringly. There was no response.

Jack sat on the bed and put his head between his hands. "I don't know what t'do, Ennis. I feel like I should stay here with Faye, help her get through this . . ." he sighed, "but there's a big part a me thinks it'll just make things worse for her."

Ennis finished packing their stuff in the single suitcase they'd brought with them, then sat down next to Jack.

Jack looked over at him. "She ain't said much, but I'm gettin the feelin she don't have that many friends no more. Ever since Lureen died seems like she's been mostly alone. I'm thinkin I oughta stay down here, least until the funeral's over and done. You don't have t'stay with me."

"I ain't leavin you here alone, bud. No fuckin way. We had this conversation already."

Jack stared at the suitcase for a moment, sighed again, and stood up. "Guess we don't gotta decide nothin right now. Let's get on over there. I'll check out if ya wanna take this out t'the car."

"Sure, okay," Ennis said, then reached for Jack's hand. Jack turned to him, a smile on his lips to hide the anxiety in his eyes. Ennis fell back, pulling Jack with him.

"What're you doin?"

Ennis quieted his lips with his own. "Just wanted one more a these before we left," he said, meeting Jack's lips again. Jack kissed him back, felt the tension ease out of his body for the brief moments he was in those strong, supple arms. He was amazed, once again, how Ennis always knew, without knowing, what he needed.

A few minutes later, he was at the desk handing over their key and paying the bill, while Ennis pulled the car up in front of the door. He went out and traded places with Ennis, so he was driving, and they made their way to Faye's house. She'd asked them to stay at the house with her tonight and tomorrow night, before they flew home on Sunday.

Jack knocked and Bobby opened the door. "Hey, sonny boy. Where's yer grandma?"

"Just laying down. She said she was tired."

"I'm all rested now," Faye said, coming down the hall with a small smile on her lips. Jack noticed it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Come on, I'll show you where you can put your things."

Jack and Ennis followed her down the hallway to a spare bedroom. "Bathroom's just down the hall, there, to the right. You oughta remember, Jack."

"Yes, ma'am, I surely do."

"I was just about to make some supper. You boys hungry?"

"Why don't you let us cook, Faye? You just rest or spend some time with Bobby, okay?"

"Oh, you don't have to do that. Might take my mind off things, to keep my hands busy."

"How 'bout you and Bobby sit at the kitchen table and keep us company, but let us do the work?" Jack smiled his most winning smile at her, recognizing the fatigue within her every movement.

"I guess that'd be okay." Bobby got his crayons and paper and pulled up a chair next to Faye and proceeded to draw pictures of the family for her, asking questions, getting her to open up and talk about their family. They were interrupted occasionally by Jack or Ennis, asking where something was or making a comment.

It didn't take long for Jack and Ennis to cook a simple meal of hamburgers, with baked beans, and a side salad. Bobby cleared his things off the table and set it for the meal. Faye ate only a little. "How come things taste better when someone else cooks them?" she asked. Jack smiled at her and was about to reply, when he noticed she had a dreamy, unfocused look to her eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart, you done eating?" he asked her. "Why don't you go crawl in bed, get some rest, let us clean up around here." She started to protest, but he held up his hand. "Ya got a lot t'do tomorrow, Faye. It's gonna be a long day. You really should rest, sweetheart," he finished softly.

She looked at Jack, then at Ennis, who also recognized what Jack had seen. His eyes softened and he gave her a slight nod. "I guess I am pretty worn out," she said and stood up.

"Bobby, why don't you give yer grandma a hug, maybe walk her down to her bedroom?" Jack said.

"Okay, but we ain't had desert yet."

"There's some ice cream in the freezer," Faye said. "I didn't get any baking done today . . ." she trailed off.

"Ice cream sounds great, doesn't it Bobby?"

Bobby nodded his head vigorously, hopped out of his chair, went to Faye, and put his arm around her. They made their way down the hall and Faye bent to kiss the top of Bobby's head before she went in her room and shut the door.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. It was a little eerie for Jack, being in this house, in a bed with Ennis. He'd half expected Faye to show them to different rooms, but she hadn't. Surprised him more than a little. Still, he was filled with unease, like L.D. was playing some kind of a trick on them and would pop out of the woodwork at any moment and beat them bloody. Lord knows he's probably turnin over in his grave, seein me an Ennis here, in his house, in this bed, together. He stifled a chuckle that threatened to bubble from his lips. A finger of shame worked its way into his mind. He didn't want to think bad thoughts about the dead, but he was secretly relieved that L.D. was gone. He only felt bad for Faye and Bobby. Wasn't a chance of anyone else missing him much. Maybe some guys from the Elks Lodge, but even they couldn't miss him for too long. No, Faye and Bobby were the only two people who'd remember him with fondness years down the road.

Jack shifted a bit and felt Ennis burrow closer into his side, listened to the steady ebb and flow of his breathing, and felt a rush of love so strong it nearly brought tears to his eyes. How could this be bad? Something that felt so right, so strong, so real, so true. He wished, for one desperate moment, that he'd been able to make L.D. understand. He didn't know why it was important. What did it matter what L.D. thought? Never mattered to him before. Jack realized then that it wasn't really L.D. he wanted to convince–it was all the people like him in the world. All those people who didn't understand, didn't even try to understand, how real and true his love for Ennis was. With so much of the world against them, it was a miracle he and Ennis ever had to courage to find each other. He knew that if he hadn't made that first, sleep-drunk move, they may not have ever gotten to where they were now. Maybe, but maybe not. He knew in his heart that if hadn't been for him, Ennis would probably never have admitted who he was. He was already so closed up at nineteen, already older than he really was, the years stealing away his youth at a lightning fast pace. He'd probably still be married to Alma and she and the girls would've moved to the farm with him and he'd have gone on, pretending to be a good husband to his wife, all the while being miserable without knowing why.

Jack, on the other hand, couldn't fight who he was. He'd always known and, instead of stuffing it down inside himself like a dirty secret, like Ennis had done, he'd accepted it. Hell, even his daddy knew from the beginning that Jack was different. Didn't matter that he'd worked just as hard as his daddy, didn't matter he rodeoed, didn't matter the couple of girls he dated in high school. He knew, his daddy knew, and certainly his momma knew, that there was something different about Jack. Course, his daddy thought it was something more than different. In his mind, there was something wrong with Jack. Jack, though, he knew now there wasn't anything wrong with him. Just different from his daddy.

Jack brought his lips to Ennis's spikey hair, planted a kiss there, then took a deep breath, taking in the scent of his love, a scent as familiar as his own, straight into his heart. He drifted to sleep not long after, his arms still tight around Ennis.

"You're up early," Jack whispered, putting his arms around Ennis from behind. "I like what you're wearin, too," he said softly, nuzzling into Ennis's neck and letting his hands wander underneath Ennis's pajama top. The kitchen was still bathed in the blue light of early morning and the house was quiet.

"Mmm . . ." Ennis put his hand over Jack's and leaned back into him. Jack kissed his neck, then moved up to kiss the soft, sensitive spot under his ear.

"Saw where the coffee stuff was last night. Thought I'd make a pot. Couldn't sleep no more." He turned in Jack's arms, leaned back against the counter, and pulled him close for a kiss. He meant it to be quick and chaste, in case Faye happened in on them, but Jack had other ideas. His lips followed Ennis's as he tried to pull back. His hands went to each side of Ennis's face and he drowned himself in the chocolate eyes, his own eyes darker than usual, filled with desire. He traced Ennis's lips with his tongue, then feathered into his mouth as their lips came together, more urgent, seeking their mates. Ennis, in his vulnerable, just-woke-up state couldn't resist Jack's lips at all. They were so engrossed in each other that they missed the soft sound of slippered feet shuffling down the carpeted hallway and the sound of those same slippers on the linoleum in the kitchen, but they didn't miss the sound of the small, "Oh," that escaped from Faye.

Jack and Ennis broke apart and looked at each other, guilt clear in their eyes, before they turned slowly to Faye. She stood in the doorway, her eyes wide. She looked from one to the other, with a look that Jack would swear was bordering on amusement, before she said calmly, "Good morning. I thought I smelled coffee brewing."

"Faye, I'm . . . we're . . . well, I'm sorry . . . about that . . ." Jack trailed off.

"Well, I can't say I've ever seen two men kissin before, but I guess if God ain't gonna strike ya dead, what right do I have t'judge ya? Now, Ennis, dear, would you be kind enough t'get an old lady some coffee? I sure could use a cup." She pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.

"Yes, a course." Ennis poured her a cup of coffee and set it in front of her. "Do you want some toast or eggs or somethin?"

"Some toast would be nice," she replied. "The man from the funeral parlor is coming later this morning, around ten. You boys are welcome to stick around, if you want," she finished softly. Jack heard the unspoken question in her voice.

"Sure, we will. Didn't really have any plans and our plane don't leave till tomorrow. If you don't mind, maybe we'll just stick around here an help ya out." He sat down next to her.

She reached out to pat his hand. "That'd be real nice, dear."

Ennis looked over, caught the small gesture, and met Jack's eyes, saw the relief and thankfulness pass through them. Faye probably didn't realize it, but her gesture, a small thing to her, was huge to Jack. She touched him unconsciously, without flinching, without disgust or disdain, as if she hadn't just walked in on him engaged in a passionate kiss with another man.

Ennis put a plate of toast in front of her and sat down on her other side. "Ma'am, would you mind if I called up to the farm to check in on things?"

"Of course not, go right ahead," she replied.

"The boys are probably up already. Maybe I'll try right now." He went to the phone and dialed the number for the farm.

"Hello?"

"Ben, that you?"

"Yep."

"Where's Beau?"

"He's still at the hospital."

"The hospital?" Jack swivelled around to look at him, questions in his eyes.

"Yeah, he's there with Tyler. They went out last night for a beer and Tyler got beat up pretty bad."

"Is . . . is he okay?"

"I'm not sure–I guess so, but they're keeping him in the hospital. Beau'll be here in a while to take care of what needs doin."

"Have him call me, would ya? Here's the number where I'm stayin." He gave Ben Faye's phone number, said good-bye, and hung up slowly.

"What's the matter?" Jack asked.

"Tyler got beat up. Bad, accordin t'Ben. He's in the hospital."

"Shit. He gonna be okay?"

"Don't really know." Ennis had a dazed look in his eyes.

"You wanna fly back today? Check on him?" Jack asked, gentle.

"No, course not. I'm stayin here with you," he said, his voice wavering the slightest bit.

Faye finished her toast and stood up. "I'm gonna take a shower and get dressed." She disappeared down the hallway.

Jack narrowed his eyes at Ennis. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just, you know, surprised. And pissed. I wanna know what happened." Jack could tell Ennis was thinking of tire irons. Jack sighed, remembering his thoughts from the night before; because of all the people like L.D. in the world, Ennis would never lose his fear of the 'tire irons' and all they represented.

Tyler opened his eyes slowly. The light hurt them. In fact, he hurt all over. He turned his head and saw Beau sprawled in a chair next to the bed, his head back, his eyes closed. Golden light came through the windows, illuminating Beau in an ethereal glow. As he watched, Beau shifted and drew in a deep breath, then sat up, his eyes going immediately to Tyler's. He stopped, when he saw that Tyler's eyes were open, looking back at him.

Beau leaned forward and took Tyler's hand in his. "Hey, baby." He reached out a trembling hand and brushed the dark hair back from Tyler's face, his fingers trembling slightly. "How're you feeling?"

"Been better."

Beau smiled and leaned closer. "Want me to kiss you and make you better?"

"Think I need more than that this time." He closed his eyes. Keeping them open hurt so much. He rested for a moment before opening them again and meeting Beau's baby blues. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"I don't remember anything after you came in the restroom."

"I punched Jim, then this old guy opened the door and the other two guys hustled out." He hesitated. "But not before Steve cut off your hair."

"He did what?" His hand lifted instinctively to his head and ran a shaking hand through his shorn locks.

"Cut off your braid."

Tears swam in the dark eyes. "Guess he must really hate me, then."

"I'm sorry, baby. I couldn't stop him. It happened too fast. I didn't know what he was doing."

"It's not your fault." He closed his eyes again and they were silent. After a few minutes, he opened them again and looked at Beau, who looked miserable. "So, where's that kiss you promised?" He made his tone light and warm.

Beau smiled and lit up like a ray of sunshine and the kiss he gave Tyler worked its magic, if only for a moment or two.