Monday morning found Ennis busier than a one-armed paperhanger. The fireworks for the Fourth of July celebration would be arriving some time that day, so he had to see to their safe storage in the barn. He and Stubbs were moving all the ranch's firearms out of the soon-to-be-demolished shed and into the lean-to next to the stable. Meanwhile, the contractor was marking spots on the grass with neon pink paint so that the crews would know where to start digging the cellar for Junior's bungalow. His job was never dull, but Ennis felt stretched particularly thin today. Sometimes it was tiring being the boss. Every time he turned around someone was calling his name, or needing his approval, or wanting his opinion, or just yakking in his face. Times like that made him miss the good old days when he was just a ranch hand taking somebody else's orders instead of handing them out; he could put his head down and do his job, not saying a word from sunup till sundown.

Jerry Carpenter, their aptly-named contractor, found him in the hay barn nailing up fireproof asbestos sheets to the walls near where the fireworks would be stored. "Wanna see the new blueprints?" he said.

Ennis stood up. "Sure." They went outside and Jerry spread the plans on the tailgate of his truck. The bungalow had been designed to resemble the house, but smaller. It would have two bedrooms on the ground floor and one in the basement. It had two bathrooms, one upstairs and one down, a nice little kitchen and a comfortable living room with its own porch. Ennis looked over the changes they'd discussed the last time he'd seen the plans. "Where's the washer 'n dryer gonna go?"

"Here," Jerry said, pointing. "There'll be a closet with folding doors built into the utility room where the water heater is." He hesitated. "It's a lot of space just for your daughter, Ennis."

"I'm tryin' t'plan ahead. She might wanna start a family here."

"What if she moves out to do that?"

"Then we'll have a helluva guest house. But she says she wants t'help run the ranch, and someday take it over once me 'n Jack retire. I think she'll wanna stay if she can."

"You still thinking of finishing the basement? For when Jack's son comes visiting?"

Ennis blinked. "Oh. You ain't heard."

"Heard what?"

"Jack's son died a week ago."

Jerry's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, no! That's terrible! Was it an accident?"

Ennis didn't feel comfortable sharing the whole story without Jack's knowledge. "Somethin' like that," he said. To his relief, Jerry didn't press him for details.

"How's Jack holding up?"

"He's doin' okay. It hits him at odd moments." He sighed. "I don't really know how t'help him."

"Yeah, that's hard. My wife's mother died last year, and I felt so helpless. All I could do was hold her while she cried it out. Turns out that's all she needed me to do."

"I guess. I jus' feel like I oughta be able t'fix it."

"Can't fix something that's broken so bad, Ennis." Jerry made a life-goes-on kind of smile and clapped Ennis on the shoulder. "Well, you give him my condolences, okay?"

"Will do, Jerry. So, when're you gonna break ground on this?"

"The crew will have that shed cleared away tomorrow. We'll break ground on Wednesday. We ought to have the cellar dug by Friday, so we can pour the foundation on Monday of next week. Sound good?"

Ennis nodded. "Sure enough."

"Then I'll be back tomorrow."

"See ya, Jerry."

Ennis was heading back into the barn when suddenly he heard his name being shouted, with some urgency. Sounded like Rod Borrickson, the stock manager. He took off running, his mind racing ahead to the likely reasons why Rod would shout for him like that. Someone's hurt. Someone got gored or trampled or fell on a pitchfork.

When he got to the stable, someone was hurt, all right. "Oh, no," he sighed, deflating.

Chaparral was lying on her side near the doors, whining in that hurt-horse way that made your teeth ache. She was holding her hurt leg up off the ground, her eyes rolling in fear and pain, foam collecting at the corners of her mouth. Rod was shaking his head. "I was just walking her, real slow, to see how her leg would hold up, and...well, you see for yourself. It seemed okay, then something sprung and it just wouldn't hold her no more."

Ennis's heart sank. He didn't need Paul's expert medical opinion to know that this was now beyond the hope of healing for poor Chappie. Cady, who never failed to materialize when a difficult job presented itself, stepped up to Ennis's side. "I'za gwan tak'er, Mist'Ennis," he said, quietly.

"No, I'll do it," Ennis replied. Rod already had the gun ready. "Oughta be me."

"It's a shame," Rod said. "I know she was Junior's favorite."

Ennis nodded. "That she was. Junior'll understand, though. She wouldn't want her t'suffer none." He squatted by Chappie's head and petted her neck. Her breathing seemed to slow a little as he touched and spoke to her. "It's okay, girl. It ain't gonna hurt no more in a second. You was a good horse, 'n we'll all miss you." He stood up and took a step back. He saw out of the corner of his eye Rod and Cady removing their hats. He took a deep breath, cocking the rifle. He took aim and fired. The smell of gunpowder and blood filled the stable. He handed the gun back to Rod. "You guys..."

Rod nodded. "We'll take care of it."

"Good." Ennis trudged back towards the house, feeling far too tired for a day that hadn't even made it to noon yet. Poor Junior would be heartbroken, not only that her favorite horse had to be put down, but that she couldn'tve been there to say goodbye. Ennis knew she'd understand. Junior wasn't overly sentimental, and knew well the realities of ranch life. Still, she'd shed a tear, and he didn't relish having been the indirect cause of it.

He went inside. The sad duty he'd just performed made him want to talk to Jack. That'd cheer him up.

Jack painted White-Out over a mistake he'd just made in the ledger, thinking again of buying a computer for the office. Paul had one, and so did Fred, and it was becoming achingly clear that he'd have to get one eventually. Might as well get in on the ground floor and start acclimating himself to the infernal machines.

Ennis came into the office, smelling of cordite, a hangdog expression on his face. Jack frowned. "What's wrong?"

He stood by Jack's desk for a moment. "I just had t'put Chappie down," he said.

Jack's heart sank. "Aw, shit," he said, reaching out for Ennis's hand. "Ain't that a shame. I thought she was doin' okay."

Ennis squeezed his hand for a moment, then let go and sat down in the wing chair across the room, crossing his ankle over his knee and rubbing at his eyes. "We thought she was, too. Rod was takin' her out for a walk 'n somethin' gave. Her tendon prob'ly tore. Ain't nothin c'n be done. Poor thing was jus' in agony, you c'd see it in her eyes."

"Then what you done was a mercy."

"I know. It's jus' sad. Junior'll be crushed."

"Once she gets here, we c'n take her over t'Adam's and pick out a new horse for her."

Ennis nodded, idly rubbing his thumb over rivets on the chair's upholstery. Jack said nothing. After a few moments, he went back to his work. He knew that Ennis just wanted to sit there for a moment. He didn't necessarily want to talk, he only wanted Jack around just in case he did. He didn't speak for several minutes. "What're you doin'?" he asked.

"Oh, just lookin' at the financials. We could pay for the bungalow outright but it'd wipe out most 'o what we got in the expansion account. I think we're better off payin' half up front and mortgaging the balance."

"Shit, I hate bein' in debt."

"If we move Cyrus out t'stud in the Plains next season like we planned, his fees might make up the difference and let us pay it off in a coupla years."

"If you say so."

"I called CCV and figured out how much Junior's school's gonna cost. I'm just addin' that in t'the monthly expenses, here."

"That school cain't be that dear."

"No, it ain't. Won't be but a little bite. Still gotta keep track, though."

"Why don't we jus' use the money that was t'be for Bobby's college?" Ennis said. "I know it pains you t'think of it, but...well, it cain't do him no good no more."

Jack froze, a solid block of ice slamming into his stomach. Oh, shit. It suddenly hit him that he had not told Ennis what he'd done with Bobby's college money. He had hardly thought about it himself, not when he'd done it and not since. He stared at the wall, wondering if this was what cheese curd felt like when it was being squeezed dry in the hydraulic press.

"Jack?" Ennis said. Jack could hear the puzzled frown in his voice. "What?"

He turned around and met Ennis's eyes. "Yeah. The thing about that money is...well..."

"What?"

Jack took a deep breath. "I kinda gave it to Lureen."

Ennis's expression didn't change. He just sat there frowning at him, like he was trying to work out a difficult math problem in his head. "Now, hold on," he finally said. "I know, I know that you didn't jus' say you gave that money t'Lureen."

Jack nodded miserably. "She was tryin' t'leave Childress, and get away from L.D., and I jus' wanted t'help her out..."

"So you gave her fifty thousand dollars of our money? Just on a whim, without a word t'me?"

"I wasn't thinkin'."

Ennis got up and began pacing, his steps taking quick, angry bites out of the hardwood floor of the office. "Oh, you was thinkin'. And I know what you was thinkin' with. Was this before or after you fucked her?"

Jack jumped up. "This is not about that!" he exclaimed.

"I don't give a fuck!" Ennis hissed, standing toe to toe with him. "You had no right givin' that money away t'her without talkin' t'me about it, and you goddamn well know it."

"That was my son's money, Ennis!"

"And if Bobby were still with us I'd be glad t'see him have the use of it, but he's gone and there's a lot 'o things we coulda used it for. That money coulda helped my child. What the fuck gave you the idea that it might be a good idea t'give it away t'your ex-wife?"

"I owe her!" Jack exclaimed. "I fucked up her life and you of all people oughta know what I mean. Don't you tell me that you wouldn't help Alma if she needed it, 'cause you fucked up her life, too, and I know you'd make amends if you could."

"So you was makin' amends, is that it?"

"What else?"

"I dunno. Fifty grand seems kinda high for services rendered."

Jack's temper flared. He shoved Ennis away, hard. "That's a fuckin' foul thing t'say."

Ennis shoved back. Jack staggered against the desk. "You done a fuckin' shitty thing 'n now you're tryin' t'justify it. Makes me sick, watchin' you backpedal like some kinda politician!"

"Why's it piss you off, Ennis? 'Cause I gave it away, or 'cause I gave it t'her?"

"I don't give a shit if you gave it t'her. Hell, I mighta even said go ahead, if'n you'd had the decency t'ask me what I thought! I ain't stupid, y'know, even though I know y'think I am. Dumb ole Ennis won't understand, so you'll do whatever you want and I'll jus' nod 'n go along, is that it?"

"I'd put my boy in the ground the day before," Jack bit out. "I wasn't thinkin' about the particular etiquette!"

"This ain't no tea party! This ain't about when t'send a fuckin' thank-you note! It's fifty grand, and it weren't yours t'give away, asshole! Were you ever gonna tell me 'bout this? Or were you jus' gonna hope I never noticed?"

"Tell you the truth, I ain't thought about it. Been kinda occupied since, or had you forgot!"

Ennis turned away, shaking his head. "I trust you t'handle things I got no head for, Jack. I ain't never questioned anythin' y'did with our money, or our business." He snorted. "Shit, I trusted you with her, too, 'n look where that got me. You musta been eatin' your Wheaties 'cause you done betrayed me twice in one day down there." He sighed. "Am I gonna have t'wonder now what else 'o ours you been handin' out? Do I work seven days a week runnin' this place so's you c'n jus' decide all by yourself t'give it away?" He stalked towards the door.

"Ennis, hold up..."

He whirled on him, one accusing finger out. "I don't wanna hear it. Jus' shut the hell up, Jack. I..." He threw up his hands and drew back. "I don't wanna see you for awhile." He stomped out of the room. Jack winced as he heard the back door slam.

Well. That coulda gone better.

The phone rang around seven. Jack reached for it, and it was an effort. His fight with Ennis had plunged him into a funk, which wasn't helped by the fact that Ennis had run off to fester somewhere, in typical Ennis fashion, and hadn't come back yet. "Hello?"

"Jack, it's Lizzie."

"Oh, hi, swee'pea. How're you doin'?"

"I hate this goddamned city, I'm looking for a divorce lawyer and I might be about to lose my job. How're you?"

"My son killed himself, I got bashed in the head and now I think my husband probably never wants t'see me again."

"Great."

"Ain't it just?"

"Wait...what was that last part?"

Jack sighed. "Ennis ain't exactly speakin' t'me right now, which might be botherin' me if he were actually in the house."

"What happened?"

"Oh...we had a fight. 'Cause I'm a fuckin' idiot and that goddamned Texas trip ain't never gonna be over."

"I thought you'd gotten over the Lureen thing."

"That one, yeah. Now there's a new and improved Lureen thing."

"What'd you do this time?"

"Well...I think I mighta mentioned that me 'n Ennis put away some money for Bobby's college, 'cause he was the only one 'o the kids that had any interest in goin'. We put back about fifty grand."

"That's a lot of money."

"Yeah. Anyway...well, when I was down there 'n Lureen said she wanted t'leave Childress and get a new start, well..."

"Oh, Jack. You didn't."

"I kinda gave it to her."

"All of it?"

"Yeah. So Ennis is pissed off I done it without talkin' t'him."

"I gotta say, Jack, I'm on his side on this one. What were you thinking?"

"I been sittin' here askin' myself the same thing. I was jus' so sorry for Lureen, and I felt so bad 'bout leavin' her alone again after Bobby's dyin', and 'bout everthin' she wanted from me 'n never got..." Jack found himself choking up and had to take a moment. "She don't deserve that, Lizzie. She's a good person. I jus' wanted t'help her."

"Were you afraid that if you asked Ennis he'd say no?"

"Naw. In fact he said himself, he thought what I done was okay. He's just mad I ain't talked t'him first."

"He should be. I would be, too. And so would you, admit it."

"Oh, I'll admit it. I fucked up. Again." He sighed. "But Ennis has this thing. I dunno where it comes from. He gets this idea that I think he's dumb, or I don't think his opinion's worth nothin'."

"Well...think about it, Jack. Wasn't it your husbandry skills and your management that got you this far? And isn't it you who handles the money and the paperwork?"

"I guess so."

"Ennis probably feels like he doesn't contribute as much as you do."

"That's bullshit. Nothin' I do's worth a goddamned thing without him t'run this place. Lord knows I couldn't do it."

"Everybody doubts their own importance, Jack. It's insecurity. We all secretly fear we're disposable. Ennis probably feels it more than most because of how much you're recognized for what you do. He's a man, and he's wired to be a provider and take charge to support his family, and it has to be disempowering for him to watch you handle everything on your own without his input. Every time you do something without talking to him, it's one more thing to make him think his opinion isn't important."

Jack shut his eyes. Sounded so goddamned logical put that way. How was it that women could just put things into words like that? "Damn, you oughta be a shrink."

"I've just read a lot of women's magazines."

"Maybe I should start readin' 'em too."

"I'll get you a subscription to Cosmo. Look, anger is really fear, okay?"

"Uh...it is?"

"Sure. When you get angry, it's really because you're scared. What's the angriest you've ever been in your life?"

"Probably at that guy Souter what shot me."

"Because you were afraid of dying. And Ennis is angry now because he's afraid you don't need him."

Jack sighed. "He's got no fuckin' clue how much I need him, then."

"I guess you'd better tell him."

"I guess so." He frowned. "Now, what's this about maybe losin' your job?"

When Ennis came to bed, Jack could smell that he'd been drinking. Not too much. He wasn't having any trouble walking. The smell of cigarettes was hanging all over him, too. Jack said nothing, just stayed on his side like he was asleep.

Ennis was considerate enough to shower before he came to bed, so he didn't smell like beer and smoke by the time he got between the sheets. Jack wanted to turn over and apologize, but he was also wondering if Ennis would say something first.

He was still wondering long after Ennis was asleep.

Sleep didn't come to Jack until very late, and when he woke up, Ennis was already gone. He got up and looked out the back window. Ennis was out by the shed, which was being quickly demolished. A dumpster and some equipment was waiting nearby to dispose of what was left of it.

Jack showered, standing under the hot water for longer than necessary. He was ready to apologize. He was ready to talk about it. But dammit, he wasn't going to go running after Ennis like a puppy dog. The man would have to stay in the same room with him long enough to hear it.

Ennis would have been glad for some busywork that day. He wished it was yesterday, when he'd had more to do than one man could reasonably handle. The fireworks were neatly and safely stored in the barn, covered by a tight tarpaulin. The shed was just about gone. Rod and Cady had disposed of Chappie's body. Everything was back to normal.

He hid out in the lean-to by the stables, the new home of the ranch's firearms, and busied himself organizing, cleaning and checking all the guns. The work was repetitive and soothing.

He hated fighting with Jack. It was like watching a favorite tree chopped down or a beloved lake fill with trash. It upset him, but it was sometimes necessary. They were both stubborn sons of bitches, and it was inevitable. But this, what Jack had done, hurt him in a deep and ill-defined way that even his tryst with Lureen had failed to do. That had been an affront to his emotions. This was an affront of a different kind. It made him feel small, like he didn't matter. The thought that he didn't matter to Jack made him want to run away and hack at things with an axe.

One of the rifles needed its sight adjusted. Ennis grabbed some ammo and left the lean-to, intending to shoot off some trial rounds and fix the sight, but as he passed by the stable he saw a trail of dust heading up the driveway. He squinted, and saw the UPS van leaving.

He frowned. UPS? What's being delivered? We ain't expectin'... His eyes widened. They were expecting something. A large box from Texas, full of Bobby's things.

Ennis put the gun and ammo back in the lean-to and headed for the house.

Jack was sitting in the living room, the box in front of him on the floor, staring at it with a blank expression. He looked up as Ennis entered, apprehension in his eyes. "It's here," he said.

Ennis sighed, and swallowed his anger. I'll kick his ass later. He crossed the living room to sit next to him on the couch. "Then we best open it," he said, taking out his pocket knife. "You want me t'do it?"

Jack shook his head and took the knife. "No. I'll do it."

He opened the box. The first thing Ennis saw was a tall trophy. It was red and gold and had a little football-playing figure on the top. Jack lifted it up and ran his fingers over the engraved lettering on the base. "Most Valuable Player," he whispered. "Lookit, Ennis."

Ennis took the trophy. "That's mighty fine." He looked around. "I think I know where this c'n go." He got up and put the trophy on the wooden mantle that circled the free-standing chimney between the living room and the dining room.

Jack smiled. He looked far away, as if the box had taken his mind to another place, or even to another life. "That's good," he said.

Ennis rejoined him on the couch. "What else we got?"

Lureen had sent a good deal more than just what Jack had told him he'd picked out, Ennis realized. Jack pulled out a football, and a baseball glove, and a framed class photo, and another framed photo of Jack and a five-year-old Bobby standing on a huge combine. Each item was examined, and commented on, and then handed to Ennis, who laid it carefully on the couch at his side.

Bobby's football jersey was near the bottom of the box. It was red and white, his school colors. Number 45, with the name Twist on the back. Jack stared at it for a long time, until Ennis gently pulled it from his fingers. "Maybe we c'n get this framed, or somethin'," he said quietly, folding the jersey.

There was one last item beneath the jersey. Ennis felt Jack start to shake when he saw it. He reached into the box and withdrew a little boy's cowboy shirt. It was a flashy, gaudy, tasteless thing. It was some kind of shiny red material with white fringe and piping. The kind of shirt a boy with some hero-worship on for his rodeo-riding daddy would think was just the bee's knees. The kind of shirt a boy might sleep with, and want to wear every day, and show off to his friends with his new red fake cowboy boots and his miniature white Stetson. Ennis could just picture Bobby in it, all puffed up and strutting his stuff. Jack held the shirt as if it were made of spiderwebs, his fingers touching the fringe, some of it frayed and some of it missing, and the threadbare fabric. "I got him this," he whispered. Ennis slid a little closer so his shoulder and thigh were touching Jack's. "He said he was gonna be a rodeo star. Like me." He sighed, and it snagged a few times on the way out. "Christ, ain't it ugly," he said, laughing a little. "But he wanted it so bad. Wore it till he couldn't close the buttons no more. Damn near wore it out." Jack cradled that shirt in both hands, bringing it slowly to his face to cover his mouth and nose, his eyes falling closed. Ennis could see Jack's tears wetting the fabric. He lowered the shirt a little and stared at it, his chin quivering. "He kept it, Ennis. He kept it, all these years."

"'O course he did," Ennis murmured. "His Daddy gave it to him."

There was no better way to describe it, Ennis thought, than to say that Jack slowly melted. He didn't weep, or collapse into tears. He just seemed to lose control of his muscles while his bones turned to jelly. Next thing he knew, Ennis was holding him across his lap, rubbing his back and murmuring nonsense words of comfort that meant nothing except for the deep wish of the man uttering them that Jack's pain could go away, melt away like his bones and Bobby himself. Jack still clutched the cowboy shirt to his chest, balled in both hands, shrinking into Ennis's arms in eerie silence.

Eventually Ennis ran out of nonsense words, so he just held him. He held him until his arms went numb and his back ached, but he didn't let go.

They packed the box again and put it in the room Bobby had usually slept in during his visits. "That's a good idea, t'frame that jersey," Jack said, nodding. "It'd look nice in the hall here."

"You bet." Ennis touched Jack's arm. "You okay?"

He took a deep breath and looked around, as if considering this. "Y'know what? I think I am. I'm glad t'have these things. It feels finished, in some kinda way."

Ennis nodded. "Good."

Jack met his eyes. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For helpin' me do that. I know you're prob'ly still mad at me. S'nice of you t'set that aside for a bit."

"Yeah, I'm still mad. But bein' mad don't get me off the hook 'o them promises I made, does it? Y'know. Better 'n worse, 'n all that shit."

"I'm sorry, Ennis. I shoulda talked t'you before I did anythin' like that. I got no excuse."

Ennis mulled that over. "You sayin' that 'cause you're sorry, or 'cause you don't want me t'be mad no more?"

"Cain't it be both? Look...I dunno where you get this crazy notion that I think you ain't smart, or that you ain't important 'round here."

"That ain't what I think."

"The hell it ain't. Wherever it comes from, it ain't true. I wouldn't las' a day in this business without you, you got that?"

Ennis had his doubts, but it was still nice to hear it. "If you say so."

"C'n I make it up t'you?"

That sounded promising. "What'd you have in mind?"

"Oh, jus' a little afternoon nap."

"And am I gonna get any sleep durin' this nap?"

"Not if I'm doin' it right."

"Well...okay." Jack grinned, seized his hand and pulled him towards their bedroom. "But I'm still mad at you, y'know."

"Good. Because you know what? I been bad. Real bad."

"Oh, don't start this."

"I think I oughta be punished."

"That ain't fair. You're skippin' right t'the middle."

"No time. Besides, it's the middle 'o the day. Cain't start at the beginnin', the stable's full 'o people. Have to make do with the quick-n-dirty version."

Ennis shut the bedroom door behind him. "Then you best start beggin' for mercy, 'cause you gonna get what's comin' t'you."

A/N: And that, my friends, is probably all I can stand to write about the Naughty Stable Boy and the Strict Stock Boss.