Author's Notes: "Brokeback Mountain" tore me up good when I saw it. Never has a film ever had characters so real and empathetic for me. They're as real as fiction gets. I saw the film before I read Annie's brilliant short story, and while I'm not at all sad that Jake and Heath made Jack and Ennis much easier on my mind's eye than Annie's would have been, there were a few small things in her story that didn't make the film, faithful as it was. I have borrowed freely, mixed and matched the two to get what I needed to write this. The writing has been cathartic, and while all real stories end in death, Jack and Ennis wouldn't rest in my mind 'til they'd had a shot at as happy-ever-after as two peoples lives might get. I know many others have given them that shot, but they wouldn't rest 'til I did it myself. Don't worry, I have a plan, and this story will get finished. This is my first fan fic, any feedback is much appreciated. Oh, and this story hasn't been proofread by anyone but me, so apologies for all typos and grammatical errors.

Many thanks for the reviews so far! I've gotten way more than I expected, and the positive feedback has made it much easier to write this next chapter. Apologies in advance: I'm crazy, crazy busy at work with a new project my company just picked up, so the only time I have to really sit down and write is on the weekend. I'll do my best to post as often as possible, but if I can only get one chapter a week up please don't hate my guts. :) This isn't the end of the story, as I'm sure you can all tell by the chapter openings, though it almost was. I was sorely tempted to leave it here, but I think I need to tell the rest of the story.

Time Enough to Get it Good: Chapter 2

August 23rd, 2004

The first few drops of rain began to fall as he forded his horse across the stream, fat drops which spatted against the brim of his hat, the sound made loud to his ears by the quiet of the wood. As he reached the far side of the water, the rain began to pick up, falling faster and thicker, the distant rumble of thunder warning of the storm to come. He pulled his coat tighter about himself and picked up the pace.

March 13th, 1975

Jack woke up, not remembering where he was, at first. As he drew his first waking breath, he felt the throbbing fire of ache along his ribs, and like hounds on a rabbit the pain in his limbs and head rushed in on him. Then, Jack remembered where he was.

You're a right ol' fool, Jack Twist. Yer lucky Ennis didn' beat you senseless. Jack would've never thought in a thousand years that he could go toe to toe with Ennis. He figured there must've been someone upstairs looking out for him. Or, maybe he was tougher than he gave himself credit for. Either way, Jack wondered what had made him turn and come back. He thought he'd made peace with how life was gonna be, and now that he'd gone and let his heart lead ahead of his brain, he knew he needed to figure out where things were going from here.

The warmth of Ennis, pressed up against his back, intruded on Jack's fuzzy thoughts and somehow eased the hurt in his bones. Only fair, Jack figured, seein' as Ennis put the hurt there'n the first place.

"Jack?" came Ennis' quiet mumble at his ear.

"Yeh, Ennis?"

"You awake?"

Jack let out a quick snort of laughter. "Yeh, reckon I am."

Ennis pulled him closer, tighter, said nothing for a while.

"Jack?"

"Yeh, Ennis?"

"I fig're... I fig're I cain't handle you leavin' again."

"Me neither."

"We cain't stay together, Jack, you know what'd happen."

"Ennis... 's like you jus' said. We cain't handle comin' and goin'. I cain't no more Ennis. If I go, I gotta stay gone, but I surely will live my days unhappy. But I cain't com'n go no more Ennis."

Another pause, shorter than the last.

"Why'd you come back, Jack?"

"Well, I don't rightly know. I was just wonderin' that m'self. I was nearly home, and somethin'... somethin' grabbed hold of me, Ennis. I was pissed as hell at the thought of you'n me, growing old apart and sad. Riled me good, it did. So, I turned around, and here I am."

Time passed as they lay there, the angle of the sun shifting, the dusty beam of light coming through the window creeping across the bed.

"Yep."

"Yeh, what, Ennis?"

"I reckon we're makin' a go of it, you and me."

They said nothing more for a time, drawing in each others' warmth.

Ennis sat in the back of the flatbed, pitching hay out to the heifers and calves who waited patiently, lowing their pleasure at the scent of breakfast. The motion of tossing bales was hell on Ennis' side and shoulder, he reckoned Jack might've busted one of his ribs. He didn't mind the pain too much, though. It reminded him of what waited at home. The rest of the hands on the ranch, they'd sure given him hell when he'd turned up that morning. "Damn, son, you got yer as whooped good!" Ennis just grunted at them and got on with it. He'd been mulling things over ever since this morning, and still wasn't sure what to do.

"'Member I told you once, L.D.'d more or less said he'd pay me to get lost?" Jack had asked that morning, sipping his coffee. He was freshly showered, bare chested, the scrapes from the fight the day before standing out in bright reds lines, the bruises vivid purples and yellows on his hard, fair skinned, tightly muscled frame. "Well, I'm thinkin' we can take that, work to make up whatever else we need, and get ourselves a nice spread somewhere, somewhere nobody knows us. I think that'd be OK."

"Hmmm," Ennis grunted, toweling himself off. He winced as he reached across himself to dry his left side. He glanced down, his own body sporting hurts to mirror Jack's. As he finished and threw his towel over his shoulder, he took the cup of coffee Jack handed him. "And what do we tell 'em, Jack? What'll we say to folks when they start askin' questions?"

"We tell 'em we're half-brothers. Same momma, differn't daddies. It'd explain why we got differn't last names, too." Jack looked at him, the same old wide eyed hopefulness, the dreamin' fool Jack would always be, bless him. There was something new there, though, a toughness, a sureness that he wasn't gonna give up after pestering Ennis for a spell, and go home. No, Jack was determined to see it through. Ennis didn't know how to tell him that he was, too. That Jack didn't have to worry, he'd stand shoulder to shoulder with him all the way. Ennis didn't know how to answer questions Jack hadn't asked, so he just nodded.

"Might work", he said. He reached for the work shirt he'd laid out. "Until we fig're out what we're gonna do, Jack... I don't know. Welcome to stay here, o' course. Not sure how long we can keep that up, though." He pulled his shirt onto his shoulders, and began to do up the buttons, his hands only trembling a little. "Meantime, I reckon I better get goin'. Still gotta make money, no matter what we do."

"Sure enough, Cowboy," Jack said, smiling. "I'll head into town later, make a couple calls. Let L.D. know I'm leavin' his daughter." Jack paused, the smile leaving his face, his eyes going distant. "Poor Lureen... she ain't never done nothin' to deserve this. I sp'ose this is better than a lifetime of heartache, though. 'Least she's got a chance at finding a good life, now."

Ennis moved to Jack, rubbed his rough hand down Jack's cheek. "You OK with this, Jack? I mean, y'know how I feel..." he said, his voice trailing to a rough mumble, then picking up again as he pressed on, "but, damn. There's a part of me just ain't comfortable with this notion, and it's got nothin' to do with anyone findin' us out. Do you know what I mean?" He hoped Jack understood, understood that he wasn't asking Jack to go, or change, or... well, he wasn't sure what he was asking and what he wasn't, but whatever it was he needed Jack to understand.

Jack let out a long sigh, reaching up to mirror Ennis' gesture, stroking his cheek. "I surely do, Ennis. But I reckon, we give it time, and somehow... I don't know. I reckon somehow it'll be OK after all."

"Yeah, I reckon," said Ennis, though he wasn't sure he reckoned that at all.

Ennis turned to leave, grabbing his hat off the wall where it hung by a nail. As he dropped it onto his head, he felt Jack move up behind him, reaching across his chest and pulling him in, gripping tightly for just a moment. "See you tonight, Cowboy," he said, then dropped his arm.

Ennis opened the door and headed for his truck, a smile plastered on his face.

The flatbed hit a rough dip, the jolt pulling Ennis back to the present as he threw his arms out to the side, shifting his balance and trying not to get pitched off. He muttered a curse to himself and began chucking out the hat at a faster pace.

Damn it all, but a man ought to know his own mind. Thinking back on the morning, he knew he'd felt fair sure about the course he'd decided to set with Jack, though even then he'd had his doubts and guilt. Now, hours later, though the memory of those feeling were clear as the blue Wyoming sky, he felt confused and ashamed at the thought of spending his life with another man, even as a part of him shouted joy inside at thinking of a life spent with that dreaming rodeo clown.

If Ennis had been a man of greater introspection, he'd have known what his mind was doing, trying to talk himself out of this, trying to run back to the fears and shames which were comfortable and certain. It would be easy to give in to everything his daddy, the preachers at church, the world told him was wrong with him.

But Ennis was strong, stronger inside than even he knew, the tiny crack opened in that wall around his heart the day before letting his strength sneak out. Jack gave Ennis strength now, thoughts of him coaxing out bit by bit the man Ennis didn't even know he was, the man as rugged inside as out. He didn't have his own words to fight this battle inside, but he took Jack's words and lent them to his own will.

"It's alright... tt's alright, it's alright."

Jack was right. There was nothing wrong with them! The Good Lord saw fit for them to feel the way they did, and Ennis felt so good, when he could push the shame aside and let Jack in his heart, pure and perfect, that there was no way it could be sinful. He'd keep telling himself that, keep it up 'til he had the shame beat. That's what he'd do. He'd do it for Jack. He'd do it for himself.

Ennis kept up the pace, pitching hay, feeling his muscles warm and then burn from the effort, the aches and bruises fading away as the sweat trickled down his neck, his back, his chest. He kept on chucking, drifting off into thoughts of Jack, having to fight the doubts in his mind less often as the hour wore on. Before he knew it, the flatbed pulled up before the barn, and Jim Cutler, the ranch hand who'd been driving, stepped out of the cab as Ennis jumped down from the bed. Jim stared at Ennis for a moment.

"What?" Ennis asked, panting a little from the flat-out pace he'd kept up.

"What'ya mean, 'what'?" asked Jim, looking Ennis up and down. "You're grinning like a damn fool, is what. What's gotten into you, boy?"

"Nothin'."

Jack was outside grooming Daisy, Ennis' chestnut mare, when Ennis pulled up. He stepped out of the truck, smiled, heading over to where Jack had Daisy tethered outside the barn. "You sure you remember how'da do that, Rodeo? Don't go fuckin' up my horse 'cause you wanna play at being a real cowboy after nine years of selling tractors."

Jack laughed, smiling all the way to his eyes, as he chucked a handful of hay at Ennis. "Didn' see much point in sittin' around here, doin' nothin' after I got back from town. Fig'red I'd do somethin' useful."

Ennis closed the distance, pulled Jack into a hug, took ease in the fact that it wasn't hello or goodbye. At least, not hello or goodbye the way it used to mean. It was just a normal hello, a hello without desperation. After a long moment he pulled away. "You make yer calls?"

"Yeh... went into town, used the payphone outside that little diner on the corner across from the grocer's," he said, turning back to brushing down Daisy, savoring the old familiar chore. Ennis could see he missed being a cowboy. You're always gonna be a cowboy, Jack, don't matter if you never sit a horse again, Ennis thought. He pushed aside the little thrill of fear at the mention of Monroe's, the fear that Alma, who knew what Jack looked like, might've seen him. He was surprised at how easy it was to push the fear aside.

Aloud, he said, "So?"

"So, that fat bastard L.D. Newsome said he'd pay me a hundred thousand dollars if I'd leave Lureen and give up all my rights to Bobby," Jack said, his voice tightening, his fist clenching unconsciously at his side. After the space of a breath, his hand relaxed, his voice eased. "I told him I'd take it. Lord knows, I love my son, but... Bobby don't think nothin' of me. I don't fig're his life'll be any sadder, I'm not in it." He finished brushing Daisy down, turned to Ennis as he untied her lead. "Made me think, though... Ennis, I cain't ask you to give up your girls for me. I know you love 'em, right and proper, and it ain't right of me to ask you to do that." He stopped, his eyes a little sad, but steady, as they studied Ennis' face.

Ennis had considered this, thought about it over and over again as he worked the day away at the ranch. "Well, Jack... I don't reckon I could give 'em up." He paused, thinking it over, wanting to be sure he meant what he said, making an effort to know his own mind before he spoke up. "It ain't like I see 'em but one weekend a month, anyway. I could come back to see 'em, maybe bring 'em up to see me. I don't know where we'll go Jack, but we cain't go more'n three days drive no matter where we end up, so it ain't like I cain't never see 'em on my weekend. I don't reckon yer takin' me away from 'em, so don't you worry none about that."

Jack smiled, and Ennis' thoughts wandered back to Brokeback for a moment as Jack near echoed himself, "Friend, that's more'n you've spoke in two days."

Ennis laughed, scuffing his feet and glancing down for a moment in embarrassment. "That's more'n I've spoke in a year."

"Tell you what... I could sure use a beer, what 'bout you?" Jack asked.

"Amen to that."

March 17th, 1975

Jack sat in the small, stuffy waiting room, his foot tapping nervously, glancing at the clock and wishing for a smoke. The lawyer's secretary had been pretty unfriendly when she told him the office was "no smoking", a phrase Jack figured meant she liked to keep folks on edge who were waiting on her boss' pleasure. Jack sighed, twiddled his thumbs, sat back and willed his foot to stop tapping. Not ten seconds had passed before his boot started drumming its stuttered rhythm on the floor again, as his thoughts wandered back over the last week.

He'd headed back for Childress on Tuesday, the day after his phone call to L.D. He hadn't thought about it much that evening, just enjoying his time with Ennis, as they laughed and talked and just took pleasure in the other one being there. They'd even joked about that scuffle on Sunday. Thinking about that made Jack smile. He and Ennis, they'd always been a rough pair, even back up on Brokeback. More than once they'd bruised or bled from playing, wrestling around like a couple of grizzly cubs, snorting and laughing as the fight turned to sex, often as not. Jack figured they'd always be a couple of rough and tumble men, and he didn't mind that at all. Soft as Ennis made his heart, Jack liked a good tussle and knew Ennis did too. It made what they did somehow OK, like it satisfied the voice in his head that wanted him to feel ashamed of what they did, convinced it that they weren't sissy men. They'd never before fought like that, of course, really fought in anger. Jack figured if it'd ended differently he'd probably not be smiling about it. As much as Jack liked wrestling with Ennis, and while he wasn't one to back down from a fight, Though how can you say that boy, when you've spent years backing down from Ennis and L.D.?, Jack didn't enjoy being angry, or picking fights, least of all with Ennis.

He'd headed home first, wanting to get what he figured would be the worst of it over with. He arrived just after supper time, walked in to find Lureen in the sitting room, watching T.V. Bobby had been off in his room.

"You're back early," she said, her voice polite, but cold. When had it gotten like that? He couldn't remember noticing the change. Like he woke up one morning and found the feeling drained out of her.

"Yep. Lureen, we gotta talk," he'd said, trying to sound kindly, spoiling it when too much apprehension and pent up frustration crept into his voice.

"Oh? 'Bout what?" she asked, uninterested, not even looking away from the television, so firmly on automatic that she missed the tone of his voice.

I want'a tell you I'm sorry; I want'a make it up to you; I'm sorry I couldn't love you better, darlin' I- "I want a divorce," he said bluntly, surprising himself. He wasn't sure if he hadn't said what he meant, or if he hadn't meant what he wanted to say. He was pretty sure it was the first one.

She still didn't turn, though he could see the tension bloom in her, knotting up her shoulders. He heard the small noise of despair she made at the bottom of her throat, would've missed it like she meant him to if she'd had the T.V. turned up just a little louder. She got herself under control before she turned in her chair.

"Well, cain't say I'm surprised. You haven't been in love with me for most of ten years, Jack Twist. Which is alright, I suppose, seein' as I haven't been in love with you for about that, too," she finished with a shrug.

He knew it was a lie as she spoke it, knew that he'd hurt her, and deep, too. He hated himself, hated what he was, hated that he couldn't love her back. He sent an honest prayer to Heaven that she find her happiness again.

"I... I want'a make this as easy on you and Bobby as I can. I'm not gonna sue for visitation' or nothin'. Hell, you see how Bobby is with me, he'd sooner I not be here anyways."

She studied him for a moment, gave a small sigh of detached resignation. It was pure theater. "I expect so. Well, don't worry about having to pay child support. Daddy'll take care of us, right enough. He's got plenty to go around, and the family business does all right by me." That last sounded vaguely like an accusation, as if to say, And why couldn't it do all right by you, Jack Twist? Why couldn't you do all right by me?

Jack couldn't take it, couldn't take being in the same room, the same house. He wanted to run, wanted to hide, wanted to tear his feelings for Ennis out of his heart and take her in his arms, and comfort her like he thought he knew he should. Oh, Ennis, he thought miserably, I wish you were here. I ain't got the strength for this, Cowboy, I surely need your damn mulish will now. Thinking of Ennis, of how stubborn he could be, made him smile on the inside, and seeing that rough-planed face, those deep brown eyes, that cornsilk mop of unruly hair in his mind's eye buoyed him up, shored up his resolve. This is right, it's the right thing to do. I belong with you Ennis, and this is the best thing I can do for my family. Still, he had no desire to drag things out more than he had to.

"I'm staying at the motel on 3rd and Washburn, tonight, if you need me. I don't think it'd be a good idea to stay here. I don't need anything, 'cept some clothes I'd like to take. You can sell my stuff, chuck it, burn it if you like. I don't mind," he said. She nodded, looked away.

He walked back into the bedroom, grabbed his old knapsack and stuffed it full of the things he wanted to take. He started to leave the room, then reached into the closet, pulled a weathered old black hat off the top shelf. Lureen, she stayed in the sitting room, didn't say a word to him as he packed. He walked back down the hall, stopped outside his son's room. He knew he oughta say something, but he didn't think he'd survive when Bobby said, "Good riddance, you pissant." Jack knew Bobby called him that behind his back, knew he'd learned to call him that from L.D.

"I reckon we can call L.D.'s lawyer, he should be able to draw up the papers for us. I don't think we need to go to court if we're'n agreement on everything," he said.

"I'll call him in the morning," she said quietly. "He should be able to have everything drawn up by Friday."

Jack stood there, somehow expecting more, but he should've known better, should've known that now, of all times, her heart wouldn't thaw enough to hate him openly. He wished it could, it would've made it easier.

He moved for the door, had it open when she fired her parting shot.

"Do you love her?"

"I- what?" he asked, startled into motionlessness.

"This woman you're leaving me for. Do you love her? Is she the reason you haven't loved me?" Lureen asked, a tiny, tiny bit of fire and anger creeping in at the edge of her voice.

Yeh, I love him, his name's Ennis. He's a damn lightweight when it comes t' bourbon, but he's a damn sight better shot 'n me. We're a perfect match.

"Yes, I love her. I'm sorry," he said. Backing down again, Jack. Ain't you tough.

"Good enough." She turned up the T.V.

"'Night," he said, and left.

Jack was startled out of his reverie by the sound of the lawyer's office door opening, the creak made loud by the silence in the room. He stood up, doffed his hat. "'Afternoon, sir," he said politely.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Twist. Please, come in," he answered, gesturing inside his office.

Jack stepped in, took a seat. The office was filled with dark wood and darker leather, old books, the feeling of wealth and self-assurance. "So, what do I have to do?" Jack asked, calm and collected and determined to be friendly despite feeling sorely out of his element.

"Just sign on the dotted lines, Mr. Twist, anyplace opposite Mrs. Twist's name," the lawyer, one J.R. Robbins, said as he settled himself into his worn and throne-like wingback leather chair.

"OK," Jack said, picking up a pen. He paused. "No disrespect, Mr. Robbins, but how do I know if I just go signing away that you and L.D. ain't fuckin' me over?" Jack challenged, locking eyes with Robbins.

"Are you asking for anything from Mrs. Twist? Contesting the property, the house, custody of your son?"

"Nope."

"Would you understand the legal ramifications of any clause in those papers if you did read them?"

"Likely not."

"Then you don't know, Mr. Twist, but what the fuck does it matter? What could we take from you?" Robbins pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, tossed it onto the table in front of Jack. It was a check, for $100,000, made out to him by L.D. Newsome.

"True enough," Jack said, and started signing his unwanted life away.

March 18th, 1975

Jack hadn't healed the wounds his divorce had left inside him by the time he'd made it back to Ennis', but he'd made a fine start, and seeing Ennis again eased his heart and mind a fair leap.

"Missed you, Rodeo," Ennis said, as he and Jack embraced and traded hearty slaps on the back.

"You too, Cowboy," said Jack, unable to keep the smile off his face. It crossed his mind, fleetingly, how strange it was that L.D. could call him "Rodeo" and make him so angry, and Ennis could call him "Rodeo" and make him smile.

"So, how'd it go?" Ennis asked, pulling back and searching his eyes.

"Hard," Jack said, surprising himself. He'd meant to leave it be, to not burden Ennis with his feelings. He didn't really understand why he hadn't, but it felt good to have someone to tell it to, just the same. "It was damn hard, having to let her down like that. I hurt her bad, Ennis. Real bad. I don't know that I'll ever forgive myself for it."

Jack didn't even realize he was crying until Ennis reached up and wiped the tears off his cheek. "Now, don't you get worked up none," Ennis said, smiling for Jack, "It's gonna be alright. Like you said, 's the best thing you could do for her, for the boy. It'll be alright, Jack, don't you worry."

Jack smiled, let himself believe Ennis words, let the hurt ease up inside again. This is what it's sp'osed to be like, he thought to himself. This is how it oughta be.

"Got a surprise for you, Ennis," said Jack, still smiling.

"Yeah? What's that? You lose that harmonica?" Ennis asked with a grin.

"Better."

"Yeah? Must be good."

"I had a friend of mine make some calls to some folks he'd told me about up in Oklahoma. They're lookin' to expand their cattle ranch, lookin' for some partners to buy in. I'm thinkin' we could take that hundred thousand, work that ranch as partners for a few years... if it goes well, we could double our money, maybe triple it if we sell off our share at the right time. Get our own spread, wherever we like. A damn find one, too."

"Damn, Jack, that's..." Ennis paused. "Oklahoma, huh?"

"Yep."

"Ain't sure that's better'n you losing that harmonica."

Jack laughed. "Fuck you, Ennis."