A/N: To answer a few questions posed in the comments to the most recent chapter:

1. A few people have asked if I'm a professional writer. Yes, I am. But this is my first attempt at slash or m/m fic of any kind. I've only written het in the past.
2. No, Liz and Marianne are not going to get together. Marianne is married and has two kids. And Liz is straight.
3. Yes, I'm getting to that sex talk scene. Patience.
4. Yes, there will be stuff about Bobby.

This new chapter is a bit different. I hope it won't be boring or disappointing. Most of it takes place at the dairy fair that's been mentioned, and most of it involves other townspeople and their reactions (good or bad) to Ennis and Jack. But it does give a taste of that Protective!Ennis that people seem so fond of. I have a feeling that after this one I might just slow down a leeeeetle bit. I can't keep this up, staying awake until three in the morning night after night because I can't stop writing. And after the intolerable amount of typos in the last two chapters, I checked this one like three times. So if you find typos, don't tell me because I might cry.

Liz felt light as a feather. Her seat belt was the only thing keeping her from floating out of Ennis's truck, she was so buoyant. It was a gorgeous June day, the sun was shining and a fresh breeze was blowing, and she was being driven to a honest-to-God county fair through some of the most picturesque scenery in the country. The man behind the wheel was whistling tunelessly, the silence between them was comfortable and easygoing, and she felt that she would never tire of his company.

She looked across at Ennis. A slight smile was lingering on his mouth and his skin was smooth with more peace than she'd ever seen there. "I bet you're happy about Junior," she said.

He glanced at her. "Happy ain't the word, city gal." He rubbed his chin. "I was just thinkin', though. She'll be nineteen by the time she gets here in the fall, and that's too old not to have your own space. There ain't nothin' in our basement but a bunch of concrete walls. Maybe we could finish it off and make her a nice little apartment down there."

Liz nodded. "That's an idea."

Ennis thought for a moment. "You know, me 'n Jack have been talkin' 'bout tearin' down that ugly old shed and buildin' a guest house. Some of our business associates travel a ways to come here, and we thought it'd be nice to have someplace to put 'em up…but for Junior, that'd be even better. Build a little bungalow for her, coupla bedrooms, her own kitchen and such." He nodded. "Yeah, that's the thing. Then if'n she were to get married or somethin' she could still stay at the ranch. Jack c'n call the builder on Monday." He began whistling again, smiling and pleased with himself.

Liz was a little taken aback that Ennis could so easily suggest a moderately large building project to be undertaken at once. She made another mental note to find out exactly how the ranch made money to the degree it seemed to.

For the time being, she asked another question she'd been meaning to pose the next time she had Ennis alone. "Have you ever met Lureen?"

He shook his head. "No. I've heard her voice on the phone, just long enough to realize it's her 'n holler for Jack." He shook his head. "She's always polite 'n all, but I do wonder what goes on in her head."

"Why's that?"

He sighed, that you're-makin'-me-talk sigh again. Liz suppressed a smile. By now, at least she was confident that he would talk. "There's a lot of stuff she 'n Jack never talked about. I ain't never said so, it ain't my affair, but I never thought he did quite right by her."

"How?"

"Well…when he heard 'bout my divorce, he come up to see me. He never told Lureen what he was hopin' would happen, 'o course. When we decided what we was gonna do, he called her 'n told her he was leavin' her, jus' like that." He grunted. "Musta seemed powerful sudden from her end. That's Jack for ya. He c'n be real impulsive." He hesitated. "Truth be told, I don't rightly get how it was so easy for him t'leave Bobby. He ain't so fatherly as me, never really wanted a family like I did. That was the biggest part o' what kept me from him, was the girls. Tell you what, though, I never coulda been so quick to leave no woman I'd lain with for twelve years. She didn't kick up no fuss…truth be told, I think she was half-glad t'be rid of him…but he didn't see her more'n twice more while they was signin' the papers and now he ain't seen her since."

"He never goes back to Texas?"

"No," Ennis said, sharply. "It ain't safe."

"Why?"

"Folks was talkin' 'bout him back there 'afore he left. He ain't as good at keepin' secrets as me. If'n he were t'go back there, might be trouble. Naw, Bobby always comes here to visit. So he ain't seen Lureen since we moved here. They talk now'n again, mostly 'bout Bobby."

"What's he like?"

"He's a nice enough young fella. Hard worker. Looks at me like he expects me to try'n grab his franks 'n beans at any moment." Ennis sighed. "I gave up on tryin' t'be friendly with him years ago. Jack told me that nothin' I could say would undo all the crap L.D. Newsome pours into that boy's brain. Hell, he's barely civil with Jack. Only visits 'cause Lureen makes him. When he's here I usually make myself scarce." They were pulling into the grass field next to the fairgrounds. Liz could see tents scattered among the buildings and animal pens. "Well, here we are. Hope you're hungry, Lizzie. Every cheesemaker and orchardman in this part of the state'll be wantin' you to try their wares."

They parked and joined the people filtering in from the parking lot to the fairground entrance. Liz noted with some amusement a shift come over Ennis as they approached. His face went from open to impassive, his shoulders drew in slightly and his chin ducked down a bit. He was hailed several times as they entered the fairgrounds; he acknowledged with a nod and a finger to the brim of his hat.

The fair was everything she'd expected. The paths were strewn with hay to keep the dust and mud under control. The smell of popcorn and barbecue filled the air, and everyone seemed to be eating something. The livestock and agricultural exhibitions were grouped to the south, where the barns and stables were, and the other competitions and exhibits were lined up along the midway paths to the north. She walked at Ennis's side, feeling very much a city gal, watching his eyes flicking quickly here and there, searching. She knew what he was looking for. She remembered what it was like to be in love and have your eyes turn into homing beacons, always scanning for the person whose signal set up that resonance in your brain. She saw his narrow eyes hesitate and lock, and a slight smile crease his lips. She followed his gaze and saw Jack with a man and a woman, all of them carrying clipboards and moving from stall to stall in one of the nearby cow barns. She elbowed Ennis. "Wanna go say hi?"

He shook his head, flushing a little and shuffling in embarrassment. "Naw, he's busy. I oughta go see how Rory's doin' at his booth." He looked down at her. "You don't hafta stick with me, if you wanna wander around. I ain't much of a joiner, and you prob'ly wanna ask every damn person you see what they think of us, dontcha?" he said, his eyes twinkling.

Liz grinned. "You've got my number already, Ennis."

He winked. "It ain't hard, Lizzie." He set off towards the aisle where the dairy farmers had set up booths of their best products, leaving Lizzie to look around, wondering where to go next.

She walked past the baking contest, waving to Marianne where she sat waiting to be judged, and headed towards the center of the fairgrounds. Celtic-sounding music was coming from some sort of pavilion, and the crowds grew thicker as she progressed.

Suddenly, she heard her name. "Liz! Hey, Liz!"

She turned around. "Oh, Dr. McGill! How nice to see you again!" She shook the veterinarian's hand.

"Nice to see you, too. How are you enjoying life on the ranch?"

"I may never leave."

He laughed. "Yeah, it happened to me. Liz, I'd like you to meet Roger, my partner," he said, turning to the man standing next to him. Roger was tall, with salt-and-pepper hair and a trim goatee. Liz shook his hand. "Roger's an attorney."

"I know, Ennis told me."

"Where are those two, anyway?" Roger asked. "They're awful brave to leave you alone to ask impertinent questions," he said, grinning.

"Oh, they're around," Liz said. "Jack's judging some kind of contest, and Ennis just went off to see a friend." A thought crossed her mind. "Actually, now that you mention it…can I buy you guys a drink and pick your brains?"

They had a beer at the barbecue tent and found a table in the corner. "How well do you know that ranch?" Liz asked Paul.

"Pretty well. I look after all their stock and horses, so I'm there at least once a month, sometimes more."

"I've been dying to ask someone about the finances. They live pretty simply, but just from some things they've said…well, they have to be turning a healthy profit. I'm not asking for any confidential information, I'd just like to understand how they do it."

Paul and Roger exchanged a glance. "Liz," Paul said. "It's way beyond a healthy profit. Do you not…no, I guess you wouldn't know."

"Know what?"

"That ranch pulls in over a million dollars a year."

Liz's mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding? Seriously?"

"If not more. You'd never know it from how they live, but Jack and Ennis are rich men. And a lot of that business has helped this town."

She hesitated. "Do you think that has anything to do with the degree to which they're accepted around here?"

"Maybe a little. But Roger and me…well, I won't claim that we've never had a problem, but we've been accepted too, and we're regular guys."

"How is it that ranch does so well? It isn't that large, as ranches go, is it?"

"No, it isn't, although it's larger than you probably realize. But you're right, it isn't the herds that bring in the money. Jack probably hasn't told you, because he's not one to brag."

Liz laughed. "Jack brags all the time!" she exclaimed.

Paul grinned. "Sure. About rodeoing, and horse training, and deer hunting. Things he enjoys, but isn't especially good at. He'll talk your ear off about all that. But when it comes to the thing he's actually good at, he's surprisingly close-mouthed. Sometimes I think he doesn't want to jinx it by speaking its name aloud."

"What's that?"

"Jack has a spooky kind of gift for animal breeding. He can look at the animals and see how they'll combine, he goes in knowing what he wants and he can see it in them even when it won't be there until the second generation. He spent the first couple of years on the ranch breeding exactly the kind of animals they wanted to raise."

"What kind are those?"

"Early on, Jack figured out that the real money was not in the commercial beef industry, but in what you might call the high-end meat market. Their head go to specialized butchers who sell to gourmet restaurants and food distributors that cater to wealthier tastes. They raise the kind of beef that can easily sell for double the price per pound as your standard USDA grade beef. To make it in that kind of market, you have to raise livestock of the highest quality, and for that, you need an eye for husbandry. That's what Jack's got." Paul leaned forward. "They've got five steers right now. Four of them are national champions. Do you have any idea the kind of stud fees they collect?" Liz shook her head. "Five thousand dollars a pop. Each steer has as many as ten stops per month around the country in the heavy breeding season. That's as much as fifty grand a month, per steer."

"And there's that much demand?"

"In the heavy season, they can't keep up. They have to turn some down. And of course there's also the sale of their stock, whether it's to dairy farms or butchers. You can see how it adds up fast."

Liz's mind was boggling. "So…all this success is Jack's doing?" She'd never gotten that vibe from anyone on the ranch.

Paul smiled. "Hardly. Jack may have a knack for breeding, but he'd be lost without Ennis, and I don't just mean personally. When they set up, Jack didn't know the first thing about running a ranch efficiently. That place is like a well-oiled machine, and it's Ennis's doing. Jack brings the business and runs the numbers, but Ennis makes that ranch function."

"Sounds like a good partnership."

"It is. It's the perfect partnership, business-wise. They got lucky, and they made some smart decisions, and now they're reaping the rewards."

Ennis came around the corner, munching on some deep-fried cheese curds from a cardboard carton. "Here you are," he said, taking a seat. "Howdy Paul, Roger."

"Ennis, Craig McCutcheon told me to tell you that he's got a lead on some equipment, if you can stop by this afternoon."

Ennis grunted. "Last time I talked t'that guy I nearly decked him one."

Roger nodded sympathetically. "I hear you, friend."

Liz looked around at their faces. "What?"

Roger rolled his eyes. "You'll see."

Ennis got up and threw away the empty carton. "C'mon, city gal. I ain't facin' this jackass alone."

Craig McCutcheon turned out to be a dairy equipment dealer. Liz remembered the mayor telling her that Ennis and Jack were thinking of expanding into the dairy business, which seemed like a huge undertaking to her, but it was their ranch and their money. Craig had a large booth featuring a new, high-tech milking machine that looked like some kind of medieval torture device.

She felt Ennis steel himself as they approached the booth. "Del Mar!" Craig cried, with transparently excessive enthusiasm. "Was hoping I'd see you around here today!"

Ennis nodded. "Afternoon, Craig," he said, with an absolutely minimum of lip movement.

"How are things at that lovely ranch of yours?"

"Fine."

"And business is going well, then?"

"Great."

"And, uh…no trouble in paradise, then?" Craig said, grinning and winking. Liz got the picture. Even had the frame.

Ennis's face was stony. "Doc said you had somethin' for me?" he said, not bothering to respond to McCutcheon's last remark.

"Right. I know you've been researching dairy equipment and I wanted to let you know I've got a line on a farm that's closing up near Burlington. All their machinery's less than two years old, you might be able to get it all for a song."

Ennis nodded. "That's a real good tip, Craig. Thanks."

"Well…you want me to show you some estimates?"

"I'll wanna talk to Jack about that before we put in a bid." Ennis gave a curt nod and turned to leave.

Craig laughed. "Oh, sure! No problem. I understand, gotta run it by the missus first! I hear you, my man!" He reached out and slapped Ennis's shoulder. Liz winced inwardly. Ennis's face had gone even stonier, if that was possible.

He turned back. "I don't make decisions 'bout the ranch without talkin' t'my business partner," Ennis said, through tight lips.

Craig held up his hands. "No need to explain, Ennis! I just bet you don't! Not if you don't wanna spend a week on the couch, right?" He cackled again. Liz saw Ennis's fists clenching and put a hand on his arm. It was hard as concrete.

"Let's go," she hissed at him.

Ennis let her lead him away. He started to relax as they left Craig's booth behind them. Ennis blew air out through his teeth. "I dunno why that guy gets to me," he muttered.

"I know the type, and I understand."

"What type's that?"

"Sometimes people want to seem open-minded even if they aren't, so instead of calling you rude names or being hostile, they mask it by turning it into a joke. It's just another way of demeaning you, and trivializing your relationship."

Ennis was looking down at her. "Well, hell. That makes some kinda sense. Whyn't I think of that?"

"Because your mind doesn't work that way, Ennis. And I'm glad it doesn't."

They'd reached the central pavilion, where Liz found herself hailed again by another familiar voice. "Well, look who's still hanging around!" the mayor said, pushing through the crowd to shake her hand.

Liz grinned, glad to see him again. "It's nice to see you, Bill."

"Hey there, Ennis," Bill said, shaking Ennis's hand, actually earning something resembling a smile in return. "You must be treating this young lady all right if she's stayed this long."

Ennis shrugged. "Y'know, I thought she'd mind sleepin' in the storm cellar and muckin' out the stables three times a day, but she ain't complained yet." Liz stared at him, stunned. Had Ennis just cracked a joke? He winked at her while Bill laughed. Ennis checked his watch. "Well, that contest oughta be done by now. I'm gonna go see if Jack's finished. I'll catch up with you in a bit, Lizzie. Afternoon, Bill." He touched her arm and set off towards the stables.

"How do you find our fair town, Liz?" Bill asked.

She was starting to have a stock answer to this frequently-asked question. "A little bit of heaven."

"And is that story you were so excited about shaping up to be as interesting as you'd hoped?"

"More than I imagined. In fact, it might be less of an article and more of a book."

"A book, is that so? I'm surprised Ennis didn't toss you out on your tail-feathers the minute you mentioned it."

Liz leaned closer. "I'm changing their names and location," she said, confidentially.

Bill chuckled. "Oh, no doubt." He wasn't looking at her, but across the clearing at a hearty, good-looking gray-haired man who seemed to be a person of some significance. "See that fella?" Bill said, his voice low so only Liz could hear.

"Yes. Who's that? He's popular."

"His name's Stan Forrester. New in town. Just opened up a restaurant downtown, and it's doing real well. He's the big news these past few weeks, everyone wants to be his friend."

Liz frowned. "You don't sound too happy about that."

"I did a little digging, because I'm powerful nosy, and come to find out that he's from Kansas." He hesitated, then met Liz's eyes. "Where he was acquitted of the attempted murder of a gay man, an attack I'm told he almost certainly orchestrated." He said this in a neutral tone.

Liz looked back at the man. He didn't look like a bad person, but then who did? "That must be why he moved so far away."

"That was my thought. It seems he was a member of some extreme religious group back there, some kind of holy-rolling speaking-in-tongues sort of thing. They blame just about everything bad in the world on Jews and homosexuals." Bill sighed. "So far, he's keeping quiet. He's been going to the Methodist church and being real friendly. In my experience, though, nobody can bury their real feelings for too long. If he aims to start up a group like his, he might just be waiting to figure out who might be amenable. And I'm sure that he's already heard that two of our most prominent citizens rank real high on his Most Hated list."

"At least he won't have much luck finding like-minded people here."

Bill sighed. "I wish I was so sure of that, Liz. Vermonters are very attached to the philosophy of live and let live, but sometimes I wonder if a big part of their tolerance isn't apathy. It's just too much trouble to make life hard for the queer ranchers. But given a single, charismatic voice of leadership…it can get ugly, even when you never thought it could."

"I just don't believe that…" Liz fell silent. "Oh, no," she murmured. Across the clearing, Jack was walking up to Stan Forrester. Liz didn't see Ennis. "Have they met?"

"I don't think so. Jack looks like he intends to remedy that."

Liz pushed through the crowd and got to Jack's side just as he reached Forrester. He stuck his hand out. "You're Stan Forrester, ain't you?" he said.

Forrester smiled, a white-toothed politician's smile. "I am, sir."

"Well, I been meanin' to make your acquaintance, seein's you're new in town and all."

"That's very nice of you, sir. Where are you from? Your accent puts me in mind of home."

"I'm from Wyoming, but I spent a good many years in Childress, Texas."

"Lovely country. And what is your name, sir?"

"I'm Jack Twist. Pleased to meet you. I own the…" The smile fell from Jack's face and his voice trailed off. Liz looked from him to Forrester, whose face had drained of color and expression upon hearing Jack's name. Forrester jerked his hand away, and before Jack could react, he hauled back and punched Jack hard across the face, knocking him onto his back in the hay-strewn dirt.

The nearby fair-goers jumped back, gasping in surprise. Liz crouched by Jack's head. His mouth and nose were bleeding and his eyes looked a little twirly. A man Liz didn't know knelt on Jack's other side, glaring up at Jack's attacker.

Forrester loomed over Jack, his fist clenched and his face red with outrage. "Don't you touch me, you filthy faggot!" he growled. More gasps from the crowd. Liz saw a number of angry faces, but no one was doing anything to stop Forrester, who seemed to have forgotten where he was. "I've heard about you, living out on that ranch with your lover," he said, spitting the word. "How dare you come out among decent Christian people?"

Jack was sitting up now, his eyes clearing and his brow clouding with anger. Liz tried to staunch the blood flowing from his nose but he pushed her away. "Yeah, that's real Christian of you, to knock a man down's just tryin' t'be sociable."

"Get up and I'll do it again," Forrester said, advancing.

Liz cringed, but then Ennis appeared out of nowhere and stepped between Jack and Forrester. "You wanna step back now, y'hear?" he growled.

"Ennis, I can handle…" Jack started to say.

"You got a problem?" Ennis said to Forrester, ignoring Jack. "You deal with me now. You touch my man again and I will knock your fuckin' teeth down your throat."

"You must be the other one," Forrester said, his voice dripping with disgust. "Back home we knew how to deal with cocksucking trash like you."

"You shut your mouth!" came a new voice. A short, pudgy man in overalls stepped out of the crowd, his face red with fury. "There's decent folks here, women and children. You keep your filthy tongue in your head!"

"You decent folks defendin' these faggots?" Forrester demanded. Liz was starting to feel sick. This could turn even uglier than it already was at any moment. She kept one arm around Jack's shoulders where he still sat on the ground, one hand to his head, his shirt stained with blood.

The overall man wasn't done. "That man you hit, he paid for my boy's funeral when I couldn't afford to give him a proper send-off. And this man here," he said, nodding towards Ennis, "he helped build the Marches a new house when they lost theirs in a lightning storm. They're good folks and you got no right saying such things to them."

The mayor pushed through the crowd, accompanied by the sheriff, who Liz had not yet met. He was about fifty and looked like Clint Eastwood. "What's going on here? Ennis?"

Ennis was still glaring at Forrester, his fists clenched. "Man hit Jack, Walter. Now he's calling us vile names and makin' trouble."

The sheriff leaned over Jack. "You all right?"

"I'll live," Jack said. Liz steadied him as he stood up.

The stranger who'd knelt by Jack spoke up. "This man was just introducing himself when this other guy clocks him one out of the clear blue sky."

The sheriff turned to Forrester, who looked a little deflated, perhaps sensing that he wasn't going to get any applause for the unprovoked assault. He seemed to be coming to the realization that he'd just exposed his bigotry in front of several hundred potential customers. "You having a bad day, Mr. Forrester? Or is your fuse just that short that a man's nice-to-meet-you sets you off?"

"It sets me off when the man's a cocksucking queerboy. I think he's a disgrace and you have no right to stop me from saying so."

"No, I sure don't. You believe what you like, Mr. Forrester, and you say what you like. It's a free country. But I sure as hell can arrest you for assault, and I'll do it with pleasure." He took out a pair of cuffs.

Jack held out his hand. "No, Walter, it's all right. I ain't gonna press no charges."

Ennis turned around. "Jack, this son of a bitch hit you!"

"Yes, Ennis, I was there. I ain't pressin' charges."

Liz took his arm. "He shouldn't get away with it," she said.

Jack glanced at her. "Look around, Liz. He won't." She looked around, and everybody who'd witnessed the incident was staring at Forrester with loathing. Something told her that his restaurant might not do such good business after today. "I don't want nobody goin' to jail on my account." He faced Forrester. "You got me once, fella. You won't get me twice, you got it?"

Forrester's lip curled. "I don't care to be this close to you again, faggot."

Ennis stepped right into Forrester's personal space, his nose mere inches away. "Now, you say thank you to Jack for lettin' you off, you piece of shit."

Forrester glared at him, but Ennis was the champion of steely glares and it wasn't long before Forrester sagged a bit and tossed Jack a brief glance. "Much obliged," he mumbled. He drew himself up a bit, turned and walked away. Somebody spit on him as he passed, but he didn't pause.

The sheriff was shaking his head. "You let me know if that guy gives you any more trouble, okay?" he said to Jack, then walked off. "Okay, show's over. Everybody go back to your business."

The knot of onlookers loosened a bit. Ennis turned back towards Jack, who was blotting his nose with his handkerchief. "You all right, darlin'?" he said quietly, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack shrugged it off.

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"God, he got you good, didn't he? Your nose…"

"I said I'm fine," Jack repeated, more forcefully, shooting an angry look at Ennis.

"Well now, what's your fuckin' problem?"

Jack glanced around and took a step closer. "You didn't need t'come chargin' in and rescue me, for Christ's sake," he hissed. "I was handling the situation."

Ennis gaped at him. "You were on the ground, bleedin'! How's that handlin' anythin'?"

Jack threw up his hands and stalked off. Ennis shook his head, his mouth open in disbelief, and went after him. Liz didn't much want to follow, not caring to listen to them fight, but she had a feeling neither of them were coming back to the fair and she didn't fancy having to beg a ride home from the mayor.

Ennis was having trouble keeping up with Jack's long strides as he walked out to the parking field. "Jack, hold up! Jack!"

Jack rounded on him. "What? Ain't you had enough macho posturin' for one day?"

"Posturin'? What the fuck're you talkin' about?"

"I ain't your little woman, Ennis!" Jack shouted. "You don't hafta come ridin' in like some kinda knight on a white horse to defend my honor! I c'n take care 'o myself, you know!"

"What'm I s'posed to do, sit back and watch while some guy beats on you?" Ennis said. "I cain't do that, Jack!"

"But when you don't, it just makes me look like some kinda sissy who needs his man to fight his battles for him! And don't call me 'darlin'!"

Ennis spluttered. "I thought you liked that!"

"Sure, when it's just us! You do it in front of folks and it's just another…" He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair. "Ennis, ain't you ever noticed that when folks make jokes or tease us, I'm always the one getting' called the wifey, or the missus, or God knows what else? People make cracks about me bein' your wife but never about you bein' mine. Why d'you think that is?"

Ennis looked lost without a map. "I dunno." He tried to smile. "I s'pose 'cause you're prettier'n me."

Jack stared at him blankly for a moment, then flapped his hands and stormed off in silence. Ennis stood watching him go, hands in his pockets, then heaved a deep, long-suffering sigh. He glanced at Liz, who was trying to fade into the background nearby. "Well, I guess that wasn't the right answer," he said miserably.

Ennis lay in bed, waiting for Jack to come out of the bathroom. They hadn't spoken since the debacle at the fair. They'd driven home separately and by the time Ennis arrived, Jack had already saddled up and gone out for a ride. He hadn't come back for dinner, forcing Ennis to make excuses to Junior, who had no idea what was going on.

Jack had finally shown up around eight and gone straight into his office. Ennis had given up and come to bed around eleven, and half an hour later Jack had come in, undressed in silence, and gone into the bathroom. Ennis was starting to wonder how long he'd be getting the silent treatment.

Jack came into the bedroom. He didn't look at Ennis, just came over and sat down on the edge of the bed on Ennis's side, forcing Ennis to scoot over to give him room. He just sat there staring at his hands for a moment. Ennis laid one hand on Jack's thigh. "You still sore at me, rodeo?" he murmured.

Jack sighed. "I'm sorry I got after you like that," he said. "You were just tryin' to help."

"I didn't mean t'embarrass you, or nothin'. Everbody knows you c'n handle yourself."

"Do they?" He turned and looked at Ennis. "Or do they just know that I got you t'handle things for me?"

"I think it's prob'ly both."

Jack half turned and hitched his knee up on the bed so he was facing Ennis. "It's just…sometimes it gets to me that I ain't the alpha dog around here."

"Why's there gotta be just one?" Ennis said. "Cain't we be…I dunno. Co-alpha dogs?"

Jack grinned. "Well, we c'n try, but mos' folks'd still present their bellies to you 'afore they would to me." He thought for a moment. "I'm too smiley, that's what it is."

Ennis chuckled. "Smiley?"

"Yeah. If you're too friendly that means you ain't tough. You're like a fuckin' slab 'o granite, Ennis. People meet us and they think you're a mean, tough sonofabitch and I'm your fun bit 'o fluff on the side."

"I'm sure that ain't so." Jack looked like he had his doubts. Ennis raised a hand to Jack's cheek, wincing at the ugly bruise that was rising there. He felt another surge of anger at that bastard for having left a mark on this face. "Damn, that mus' hurt."

"It ain't no day at the park."

Ennis smiled. "C'mere," he murmured, sliding his hand around the back of Jack's neck and pulling his head down. Jack didn't resist. Ennis pressed his lips to Jack's bruised cheek. "Better?" he whispered.

Jack lifted his legs onto the bed and stretched out next to him. "All kinds."

Ennis held him for a few beats. "Liz said that Forrester fella's some kinda religious nut."

Jack lifted his head. "How's she know that?"

"Says Bill told her. He came here runnin' from some kinda trouble in Kansas where he's from. Attacked a gay man and didn't get no jail time for it."

"Christ, that's just what this town needs. Some crazed maniac runnin' around screamin' about the cocksucking faggots."

Ennis had a sudden mental image of Forrester, a straightjacket flapping around him, flailing and running in circles in the town center shrieking "Cocksucking faggots! Cocksucking faggots!" at the top of his lungs. Jack looked at him as he started to chuckle.

"What's so funny? Yeah, it's fuckin' hilarious. Ennis!" he said sharply, as Ennis's chuckles turned into laughter. "It ain't funny!"

"Lighten up, rodeo. He ain't gonna find no takers. And…well, it's kinda funny." He calmed himself down and nuzzled his face into Jack's neck. "Sorry, darlin'," he said. "I don't mean t'make light."

He felt Jack's arms go around him. "It was a little scary, t'be honest."

"I bet." He ran one hand up and down Jack's side. "But honest. I don't think you gotta worry none 'bout people thinkin' you're my missus." He drew back and met Jack's eyes, then slid one hand between his legs. Jack sucked in a breath, and Ennis felt him start to harden almost at once. "You 'n I know that you're all man," he murmured, winking.

Jack grinned and pushed Ennis onto his back. "You're gonna find out, smartass."