Author's Notes:Much appreciation to everyone for the kindly reviews! I'm going to be able to post at least one chapter per week, but I'll try to do more than that. One reviewer expressed disbelief that this was my first shot at creative writing, but it actually is, honestly. Also, I took more time proofreading this chapter (spell-check and grammar-check can only do so much), so I don't think this one'll be peppered with little errors the way the last couple chapters have been. At some point soon I'll go back and re-post those first two with all the little errors corrected. Also, I'm getting into some areas here I really know very little about, namely the cattle business and the settling of an estate after someone's death (no, neither one of our heroes). Please forgive any business mistakes. And please keep the feedback coming! Much love to everyone - Storlock

Time Enough to Get it Good: Chapter 3

August 23rd, 2004

The rain was pouring down now, in another few minutes the storm would be fully on him. He had his mount at a fast trot, too fast to really be safe in the rain-blurred darkness. But he knew this land, knew it as well as he knew the back of his own hand, as well as he'd known every inch of... as lightning blazed across the sky, and the crackling boom of thunder pounded above him, he picked up the pace.

Up ahead, he could just make out the lights of the ranch house. "Almost there, girl," he told the mare. He felt the tension pick up in her, knew she was as anxious to be home as he.

November 7th, 1979

What'n hell're you doing out here, dumbass? Ennis thought to himself as he rode along the left flank of the herd, slowing or quickening ol' Scarlet's pace as needed, using himself and the lean roan gelding to slowly turn the great mass of bodies eastward. Another five miles, and they'd reach the trucks waiting to take the steer to the stockyards. Ain't no call to cowboy for the roundup no more, 's what you pay the hands for. The winters in Oklahoma weren't as cruel as what he'd grown up with back in Wyoming, but it got cold enough that the stiff wind made the air bitter, and kicked enough dust up off the scrub ground to make his eyes sting when he turned into it.

Ennis wasn't fooling himself, of course. He was out here taking a hand in the roundup because he couldn't have stood sitting home all week without Jack. Not that the rest of the hands minded one of the bosses getting involved, everyone knew there wasn't a more skilled cowboy to be found north of Texas. The hell there ain't, Cowboy. You know I got you licked, hands down. Ennis smiled on the inside, and even a touch on the outside, hearing Jack's voice in his head. Jack liked to claim he was the best cowboy on Thistledown Ranch, but Ennis was pretty sure Jack knew better. Ennis was a better shot, better roper, better rustler than Jack. Ennis knew Jack was a far better horseman than him, of course, but he wasn't about to feed the beast by telling him so. Thinking of their little friendly rivalry made his heart ache again. It didn't seem to matter that he'd be seeing Jack in just a week, and that there was a time he'd go months without seeing him, he still missed Jack already, longed to have him by his side.

Ennis was jerked back from letting his thoughts wander when he realized he could feel his face stretched in a sappy grin. He tightened up, mostly unconciously, tucking his chin closer to his chest and glancing around anxiously. It was foolish, of course, wasn't a one of the hands likely to see him, even if they didn't have their minds on the job of guiding the herd in, what with the gritty wind and cold, and the distance between them all. Ennis was only vaguely aware of his foolishness, though. Ever since he and Jack had come to Arnett, bought their way into Thistledown on Jack's divorce money, he'd slowly, steadily grown even more cautious than he'd been back in Riverton.

He was damn glad he'd let Jack talk him into coming, glad he'd had the last four years with his man. But Ennis was also even more afraid of being found out here; here where both he and Jack lived and worked, where they couldn't help but get to know the hands, and especially their business partners Raymond and Holly Gilmore. As well as Jack and Ennis got to know them, they got to know Jack and Ennis. Rodeo tried not to be careless, he wasn't stupid, Ennis knew. They were never more than decently friendly, as brothers ought to be, joked and jibed and got on with each other just like they did with the rest of the folk working Thistledown.

But Jack scared Ennis sometimes, with his sneaking to Ennis' room at the ranch house after everyone had turned in, instead of waiting like Ennis wanted him to do, meeting up at the motel up in Ft. Supply. Ennis thought that was a good enough plan, they could meet a few times a week, each play it off like he'd a woman waiting for him somewhere. He didn't like having to wait a day or two between being able to pull Jack close and show him how he felt, especially since even after four years neither of them seemed to have it in him to say it with words instead of deeds. Not that Ennis minded too much, and he didn't think Jack did, either. Actions are what count in this world. But he knew what the score was, and he didn't want any ugliness rearing up to spoil what they had going. Jack, though, was a man for taking chances.

Ennis willed himself to turn his mind back to the roundup, knowing that lingering on thoughts of Jack for too long would only bring more longing, or discovery, or both.

"What seems to be the problem, officer?" Jack asked, hoisting up his most charming smile as he turned to face the mirrored shades looming at his truck's window.

"You know how fast you were going, sir?" asked the mirrored shades, which were backed up by a gruff voice and a big, surly-looking cop. Pity he had to scowl like that, he might've been easy on the eyes, otherwise.

Jack Twist, you turd-brained moron, why you gotta go 'n try to redline it all the way from Montana to Oklahoma? Like you wasn't gonna get pulled over, dumbass. Jack kept up telling himself off inside as he pulled a sheepish grin. "Well, I reckon I was going pretty fast, officer. Kind of in a hurry to get home, fact is."

"Yeah, well, I'd call ninety-seven miles-per-hour pretty fast. Guess it was too fast to read all those signs that say 'fifty-five'?" said the officer as he started scrawling on his pad. Without glancing up he asked for Jack's license and registration.

"Um... yeah, guess so," mumbled Jack as he handed them over.

"So, what's the hurry?"

"Well, anxious to see my little lady, y'know. Been gone more'n a week." Jack felt the familiar little thrill of shame at the familiar little lie. He wasn't even aware of when, in the past four years, he'd gone from feeling fear at being found out and acceptance of the necessity of hiding, from that little reflex of shame about him and Ennis, to feeling angry with himself for covering it up, for feeling shame not that it was necessary but that he was being a coward. He only knew that he hated lying about who he was, even to a stranger, and sometimes he felt the only reason he did it was to keep his word to Ennis.

"Yeah? Well, I can understand that, but those speeds can be dangerous," said the cop as he ripped off the ticket and handed it to Jack. "You can contest this if you want, but since you've got Oklahoma plates it's probably less of a pain in the ass to just mail in the check."

"Yeah, I know it can be dangerous, officer. But, come on now, there ain't a soul on this highway for fifty miles either way, 'cept you 'n me," said Jack, friendly reasonableness from his hat to boots. "I ain't reckless or nothin'. I mean, this ticket'll be a damn hard hit, and I was hoping t' be able to show my baby a good time when I get back." He didn't mind so much this time, letting the cop think he'd meant his lady. He knew he meant Ennis, even if he'd never really thought of him as "baby" before and they certainly didn't call each other that, so it wasn't really a lie. The lie in that sentence was the fact that he'd be hard hit by paying the ticket. The fact was he and Ennis had done quite alright in the last four years, but Jack had an aversion to shelling out cash for "dangerous speeding" on an empty road without so much as a curve for fifty miles, so he didn't mind that fib.

"Well... I've already got my quota for the month. An' as this'd be my only report to file today, I could just go straight home instead of having to go back to the office if I don't have to file it," the cop said, looking off down the road as if seeing whatever it was about home to which he'd rather get right back. "Alright, but take it easy, you hear?" He took the ticket back from Jack and tore it in half, sticking it in his pocket.

Jack doffed his hat to the cop. "Much obliged, officer," he said. With a cheery wave, he started the truck up, and with a nod from the cop he was back out on the road.

Jack had to keep a close eye on himself, his foot kept wanting to press the pedal to the floor, to get back to Ennis as fast as he could. Even after four years being more-or-less together, he still couldn't believe how much he missed that man after only a little more than a week apart. When he thought about it, really thought about it, it pleased him greatly, and awed him more than a little.

Jack settled back into the seat, making peace with the fact that it'd be another day before he could see Ennis again, get ahold of him and drag him straight up to their little hidey-hole motel in Ft. Supply. They'd lucked out finding that place. Only about 50 miles from Arnett, it happened that they'd found a motel run by a a guy just like them. He kept their secret, and they kept his. He and Ennis were friends with him, of a sort. Since everyone at Thistledown thought they were brothers, and since they thought Jack and Ennis both had gals up there, they never thought anything about them driving up together. It wasn't a bad life, really, and they got to spend time together every day, even if they couldn't touch each other or look at each other the way Jack sorely wanted to do. Jack wasn't all about getting cuddley, most of the time, and he wasn't about pet names like "sweetie" and "honey"... though he liked it when Ennis occasionally called him "li'l' darlin'", and something in him really liked thinking of Ennis as "baby", now that he'd discovered it. About as close as he and Ennis got to pet names most of the time were "Cowboy" and "Rodeo", and while they still called each other that in public, sometimes, the way they said it was different, lacking. It had to be, or at least, that's what Ennis firmly believed. Every day, though, Jack was chafing just a little more about hiding. That was probably why he couldn't stop himself from taking a chance, once in a while, sneaking over to Ennis' room.

Jack thought back on yesterday, a sort-of plan coming together in his mind. He was pretty sure he believed in Jesus, wasn't too sure about believing in fate sometimes, though with Ennis being in his life sometimes it was hard not to. But what he'd learned on his little side-trip, on his way back from making some breeding deals in Beaufort, now that made him think that Fate, or at least Brokeback Mountain, had a powerful interest in the life of two Wyoming cowboys...

He pulled off in front of the same tiny trailer, on the same gravel lot. It looked pretty much as it'd been, even after sixteen years, just more rust and weather stains on the little aluminum shack. Even Aguirre's old heap was sitting out front, though a newer car sat next to it in the lot. Jack still wasn't sure this was a good idea, wasn't sure what'd made him slow down and take the exit ramp when he'd seen the sign for Signal. Part of it felt like old anger, and part of it felt like nostalgia. Part of him just wanted to see the look an Aguirre's face when he walked in.

The crunch of gravel under his boots, the smells of flint and distant hay and cattle, brought back powerful memories of that day, such a long time ago. Seeing that buck, slumped against the trailer, tough and shy at the same time. Settling down for a good old staring contest. He'd wondered even then at the feelings that got stirred inside him, though of course it wasn't the first time that a guy had made him feel that way. He didn't really understand it then, but he did now and thinking again of that morning, being taken back there so strongly by this place and its memories, warmed him in a way that almost made him fondly think of the fat, rude bastard that he was so looking forward to telling off.

He'd walked up the steps, pulled open the door without knocking, strode in ready to enjoy the shock on that old sonuvabitch's face and launch right into him, tell him how good he and Ennis had made it. Instead, he'd come up short at the site of the twenty-something blonde sitting at the desk.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked, in a distracted sort of way. Looking closer at her, Jack noticed she looked kind of puffy-eyed, like she been crying recently. "I'm sorry, there ain't any work to be had." She turned her attention back to the ledger on the desk, sitting open atop a confused pile of paperwork.

"Um, actually, I'm not here for work, miss. I was, uh, well I was looking for Joe Aguirre. He's kind of an old friend, I s'pose you'd say. He around?" Jack asked, feeling a bit akward, thrown off his stride. How the hell was he supposed to tell Aguirre off if he had to ask after him like they were pals? That'd be downright weird, and no mistake.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I don't really know how to tell you this, but Daddy died two weeks ago," she said, giving him a look of sorrow, which amazingly seemed to be more for him that for her, as though she wished she could comfort him. Here she was, clearly still in grief over her Daddy's passing, and she spared feeling for a total stranger. How'd you ever manage to have such a decent kid, y'old bastard? Jack thought to himself.

"Oh, damn... well, I'm real sorry to hear that, really sorry for your loss, Miss Aguirre," Jack said, shuffling his feet a bit and looking down, feeling embarrassed thinking about why he'd come in here and hoping she'd take his embarrassment for sadness.

"Please, call me Kelly," she said, standing to come around the desk and shake his hand.

"Jack Twist," he said. "I used to shepard for your Daddy up on Brokeback."

Kelly's eyes welled up with tears, and she turned around, walking back to the desk, taking a moment to get herself back under control before she turned around. "Well, I'm awfully sorry to bring you such news, Mr. Twist. Daddy'd have been glad you stopped by, though. Not many people have," she said, sighing. "He went real sudden, had a heart attack. Me 'n Momma, we always told him he needed to take better care of himself, but we didn't expect..."

"Call me Jack, Mr. Twist is my Daddy," he'd replied. "I'm the one who's sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry. Did you 'n Joe spend a lot of time on Brokeback?" he asked, taking her reaction at the mention of the mountain for being overwhelmed with memories.

"Oh, no, actually I've never been up there," she said. She gestured at the mess of financial documents before here, sighing. "It's just that Daddy, I guess he didn't take too good care of his books. I'm trying to go through everything and make sense of it, but now that lawyers and accountants are getting involved, seeing as Daddy didn't leave a will.. well, they're finding all kinds of stuff. The long and short of it is, it looks like Daddy made some mistakes, and now we're gonna have to pay for 'em. Momma, she'd planned on selling the ranch and the land we have around Brokeback and retiring, but first the estate has to pay off back taxes. I don't think the sale will cover it, though. I don't know what we're gonna do, I can't afford to support my own family, plus Momma, and she's cain't work a job pays enough to buy a new house." Kelly's eyes began to tear up again, and her fear and frustration crept into her voice as she spoke.

"Well, I... um, damn. I'm sorry, Miss. I hope it all works out OK." Jack felt like a terribly rude intruder, a witness to something personal and humanizing in the house of someone he considered to be an enemy, and it made him uncomfortable. All he wanted was to hightail it out of there, the quicker the better. "I'm sorry t've bothered ya," he said, backing towards the door.

"It's alright, Jack. take care. Thanks again for stopping by."

"Take care now, Miss Kelly."

Jack had thought about that the whole rest of the trip, feeling like a heel over and over again. Then, slowly, things started rearranging themselves in his head, and he'd grown excited. He couldn't wait to reach Ennis, tell him his idea.

Jack brought his attention back to the road, feeling a big grin on his face again, which fled when he glanced down at the speedometer. Ninety-five.

"Shit," he muttered, and eased off the gas again.

"How'd it go?" asked Ray, sitting on the front porch of the big ranch house, as Ennis walked up and slapped the dirt from his gloves. Raymond Gilmore was like the house he'd built, big and sturdy but not much to look at, first glance. He was a good enough man, didn't seem to trouble himself with complicated considerations. Ray appeared to Ennis to be, on the inside as well as the out, the man Ennis could only manage to be on the outside, calm and unruffled by the world and its ills.

"Right enough. Same 's any roundup, I reckon," replied Ennis, easing himself into one of the wicker chairs. "I think we'll get a good price, looks like some of the best we've taken to market." Ennis took a slow moment to enjoy the feeling of his legs and back, stiff and tense from the long hours in the saddle, begin to relax. A hot bath was in order tonight, for sure.

"Jack should be getting back tonight, yeah? You boys gonna head up to Ft. Supply, look in on your gals tonight?" Ray asked, grinning conspiritorially at Ennis. Ray really was just about as uncomplicated as he seemed to Ennis, and in no way suspected the truth. His grin was the friendly grin of a man who, content and happily loving his wife, remembered their courting with very fond memories.

Ennis, of course, felt a stab of panic he hoped didn't show on his face. "Um, yeah, I reckon we prob'ly will," he said, trying not to draw too much in on himself. He'd learned, in the years since he and Jack had come here and his perspective on himself had begun to change some (thanks largely to Jack's influence, though he was only vaugely aware of this), that his habit of closing himself off when something frightened or upset him was as dead a giveaway of his feelings, to some folks, as if he'd worn his heart on his sleeve. To everyone else, he just seemed callous and unfriendly, so he figured that walling himself off didn't get him much and he was trying to change his ways. Still, old habits die hard, and he wasn't anywhere near ready to believe that it was safe to let the world know how he felt about a lot of things.

Raymond laughed, taking Ennis' withdrawl as embarrasment on the subject of coupling. "Well, you boys have fun, y'hear? You damn sure earned it. Though why you go and take a hand in the roundup I'll never know. Not that I'm complaining, it always goes better when you're out there. As for your brother, well, he's gotten us some of the best deals on studs, equipment, and feed that I ever seen. Boy's got a head for business, and horses, and that's a fact... even if he can't find where put his own ass, half the time."

This made Ennis laugh. During those early years, when he and Jack had spent months at a time apart, he'd never had the opportunity to see Jack's absentmindedness about little things in action. Since then, he'd many times seen Jack misplace something, and in record times, too. He'd even, a couple times, seen Jack put his keys down, go collect his hat and coat from where he'd just remembered he'd left them, and then start hunting around for his keys.

"Yeah, Jack's got a memory like chickwire sometimes, always has," Ennis said. "As for the roundup, well, I reckon it gives me something to do." Ennis turned his head at the sound of the screen door creaking open.

"You boys want some iced tea?" asked Holly. She was a about as physically opposite her Ray as she could get, small, slight, delicately pretty, blonde where he was dark-haired. Their difference only went skin deep, though. Underneath they were pretty much the same; tough, kind, and friendly. About the only difference was Holly seemed to have a more sophisticated grasp of the world than her husband, but she seemed to love him all the more for his simpler view of things.

"Much obliged, Holly," said Ennis, reaching for one of the tall glasses she carried on tray, and taking a long pull from it. He cut loose with a satisfied "ahhhh", the cool, sweet tea washing the dust from his throat.

"Thanks, hon," said Raymond, with an adoring smile for his wife, and took a glass himself. Ennis loved watching them together, admiring them, wondering if that's how he and Jack would look to others if others ever say them together, openly. He also felt a little jealous, that he couldn't show his friends, strangers, or the world how he felt about Jack. How proud he was of him, how much he admired him, how much he loved him.

Ennis didn't shy from that thought the way he used to do. While he still felt a little guilt and shame, which he thought he might feel to the end of his days, it didin't really bother him thinking about Jack , openly ackowledging loving Jack (at least in his own mind). He still wasn't a man to say it much, but then, Jack didn't seem to be either. No, what bothered him these days wasn't the thought that he was in love with another guy, it was the thought that, because being in love with a guy didn't bother him anymore, he was more likely to slip up and betray them.

The distant sound of a rumbling V-8 and tires on gravel pulled him away from the routine circle of thought that his mind frequently looped in, and he looked up to see Jack's pickup rumbling up the long drive to the ranch, at this distance only just visible within the grey cloud of dust it kicked up.

"Looks like our Jack's back," said Holly, her voice revealing the combination of warm fondness and wry irritation that Jack's mischevious nature instilled in just about everyone who knew him. "You fellas stayin' for supper?"

"Likely not, Holly, no rudeness meant. I fig're me an' Jack'll be wanting to get to up to our gals quick as we can."

"Oh, that's alright, Ennis, I understand. You boys go have a good time." And she did understand, though Ennis didn't know it.

Ennis ambled over to the big side barn that served as a garage for the ranch, about fifty yards from the ranch house, reaching it about the time that Jack was pulling in. He gave a friendly wave to Jack, called, "Hey, Rodeo!" in a friendly voice, and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.

As he crossed through the big doors, moving into the shade of the interior, Jack opened the door and jumped down from the truck. "Hey, Cowboy, how-" be began, but then Ennis gripped two handfuls of his shirt front and propelled him back into the shadows, slamming Jack's back against the big tool cabinet.

"Hey, Rodeo," he said again, this time his rough voice full to the brim with everything that'd been missing the first time he'd said it, and his mouth dove to find Jack's, their passion fierce, quick and intense. After a moment, Jack surfaced for air, and his hands reached up to grab Ennis' shirt in kind, pushing Ennis away slightly. He stepped out, turned and slammed Ennis back against the cabinet.

"Hey, Cowboy," he growled, grinning, and pulled Ennis back into a tongue-wrestling hello. His hands released their grip on Ennis' shirt, moving up to cup his cheek, stroke the back of his head, even as he felt Ennis' hands caressing his own face, stroking the back of his own neck.

After a few moments, they parted, roughly, reluctantly, glancing around to make sure no one had seen. After a moment, they had themselves under control, though they were still a little bit more open, tiny giveaways in their voices that wouldn't have been there if anyone else had been around.

"How's it goin'?" asked Jack, a silly grin on his face as he finished what he'd started saying a minute ago. "I miss anything excitin'?"

"Nothin' too excitin'. Roundup's done, ya managed to miss it again, la lazy fuck," Ennis said, returning Jack's grin. Then, his smile slipped a tiny bit. "Bart, his horse got spooked and threw him, not sure what it was. Broke his leg, he's gonna be laid up for a while."

"Shit, that's a bit a hard luck," said Jack. He liked Bart, thought Bart was a nice guy. Bart was one of those guys who, and Jack wasn't sure why he felt this way about some folk and not about others who seemed just as friendly, but Bart was one of those guys who he felt would understand about him and Ennis, and be alright with it. Not that he thought Bart was like them, he'd met Bart's girl and they were surely in love, but Bart'd be OK with it. So, Bart was one of the men Jack was somewhat closer friends with at Thistledown.

"Yeah, he'll be alright though. Doc says the bone's set just fine," Ennis said, trying to help wipe the worried frown off his man's face. He did't like to see Jack looking unhappy.

"I reckon so," replied Jack, and then the smile returned to his face. He watched Ennis' reaction, knew he must be wearing that special smile that Ennis called his "damn fool grin", the one that he knew gave away to Ennis the fact that some idea Ennis would think was trouble-waiting-to-happen was running around in his head.

"Now, don't get that look on yer face 'til you've heard what I'm thinkin', Cowboy," admonished Jack with a punch to Ennis' shoulder. "We headin' up to Ft. Supply tonight?"

"Yeah, already told Holly we'll be headin' out a'fore supper," said Ennis, grabbing Jack's suitcase out of the back of the pickup as Jack grabbed his duffel.

"Good. I c'n tell ya all 'bout it on the way up there."

"Jack?"

"Yup?"

"Missed you."

"Me too, buddy. Me too"