March, 1976

Ennis stopped the truck at the crest of the drive and got out. Jack was bounding up the drive towards the house like a little kid. "Ennis! It's perfect!" he exclaimed, turning back towards him and throwing his arms wide.

Ennis frowned. "It is?" The place was a dump. The house was falling down. The fences and roads were overgrown with weeds. There was a stable, but it was also falling down.

"Look," Jack said, returning to join him. "The stables'r big enough. And there's enough land for a good-sized herd. There's already a corral, and look at that house!"

"It's a shack."

"Yeah, but what a great spot. Land behind it goes down to the river. I had it checked, 'n the foundation's good. We c'd build a new, better house on top. Fix up the barns…it looks ratty, but it don't need that much work."

"L.D.'s money ain't gonna be enough."

"We'll get a business loan."

"I hate bein' in fuckin' debt, Jack. S'the one thing I c'n point to in my life, I ain't never been in debt."

"That's 'cause you never went for somethin' big enough to need it," Jack said. "This could be our place, Ennis. Cain't y'see it?"

That was just it. Ennis could see it. He could see that house Jack was talking about building. He could see herds in the pastures, and horses in the stable, and busy ranch hands. He could see a home, one like he'd never had. He could see him and Jack having their own bedroom, and waking up with him every day, and sitting on the back porch with him while they watched the sun set and had a coupla beers. He looked at Jack, his face so full of enthusiasm, hopes and plans that Ennis couldn't help but get caught up in it. He slid his hand up around Jack's neck and smiled. "Yeah. I c'n see it."

"Let's call the realtor."

"God almighty, are we really doin' this?" Ennis said, wondering when it would all fall apart.

Jack stood at his side and they both stared down at what would soon be their farm. "Yep, we are," he said.

Ennis sighed. "Damn, Jack. Y'know this was what I always wanted. All my life, wanted t'have my own spread, live on land I owned myself." He shook his head. "How c'n it be that you're the one givin' it t'me?"

"S'only fair."

"How's that?"

"You gave me what I always wanted. Jus' returnin' the favor."

July 28, 1983
...one month later...

On a normal Tuesday night, Liz would have been at home, watching "St. Elsewhere." It didn't matter that it was rerun season. David Morse owned a not-insignificant chunk of her soul, and she'd be damned if she'd miss it.

But it wasn't a normal Tuesday. On this particular Tuesday, Liz found herself jobless and homeless, sitting in the Features section of the paper's offices at what had until recently been her desk, sobbing piteously and cursing herself for letting it make her so hysterical. She usually prided herself on not behaving like a "typical" emotional woman, and yet here she was, scaring the cleaning crew.

It wasn't like she hadn't seen it coming. She'd been making quiet preparations for weeks. But she never thought it would be so abrupt. Her preparations had been more along the lines of securing her bank accounts and asking around about good lawyers. Nothing she'd done had prepared her to come home, slightly tipsy from the sorry-you-got-canned bar outing she'd been dragged to by well-meaning friends, to find suitcases and bags containing her clothes sitting outside her apartment. Nor to discover that her key no longer worked, and when she knocked, to have it answered by the fucking secretary (pun definitely intended) as if she were Queen of the Castle. Liz wished she could go back and stop herself from knocking at all, just so she wouldn't have to see that smug, victorious expression on SlutBomb's face again.

She'd stashed her belongings at the apartment of her neighbor, a very bohemian architect who had been telling her to dump Charlie for months. And then she'd fled. Why she'd come here was another question. Probably because she had a key, and she knew it'd be deserted.

Call your mother, a rational voice inside her head urged her. Call your best friend. You need help, missy.

She couldn't argue with that. She'd call her mother. Her mom had never liked Charlie, but to her credit hadn't been smug when it went sour. She picked up the phone and dialed, listening to the faraway rings. She really thought she'd dialed her mother's number.

And yet, she wasn't surprised when Ennis answered. "Hello?" Just hearing his voice made her weeping begin anew. She hadn't talked to him or Jack in a few weeks, not since just after the Fourth. She couldn't speak. She heard him sigh. "You calm yourself now, Lizzie." How he knew it was her, she'd never know.

"I'm sorry to to call you like this," she choked out.

"You hush now. What happened?"

"I...I lost my job, and...Charlie threw me out..." She didn't get much further. Not that there was much more to say than that.

Ennis's voice stayed at its usual just-above-mumbling tone. "D'you got any cash on you?"

"Uh-huh," she said. "About a hundred dollars."

"Okay. You calm yourself down. Gimme the number where you are." Liz rattled it off, and she could hear Ennis writing it down. "I've gotta hang up for a minute, but I'm gonna call you right back, okay?"

Liz nodded. "Okay." She hung up and sat staring at the phone. She felt unpleasantly impotent, like she'd lost all ability to think and act for herself. Was this what a nervous breakdown felt like? She thought that unless someone moved her, she could easily sit in this chair and stare at this phone (formerly her phone) until doomsday. Still, she felt better having called Ennis. Ennis would somehow wave a magic wand and make it all go away.

When the phone rang again, she jumped. "Ennis?"

"Okay, I got it all set. You get a taxi and get yourself to LaGuardia. Go to the United counter and tell 'em your name. There's a ticket waitin' there for you. All y'gotta do is get yourself to the gate and get on the plane. I'll pick you up once y'get t'Burlington, okay?"

Liz sighed deep from her chest, a tremendous weight of confusion and panic lifting from her shoulders. "Okay," she managed to say. "Thanks, Ennis."

"Was wonderin' what I'd have t'do t'get you back up here, city gal." He hung up.

Liz's flight wasn't until ten thirty, as it turned out, so it was almost midnight by the time she walked off the jetway into the Burlington airport. She looked around apprehensively, feeling a little self-conscious. Since speaking to Ennis she'd battled her way back to something resembling composure, and now she felt more than a little silly about having called him in hysterics, and about letting him scoop her up and carry her off to Neverland where all the bad things would be far away. She knew she ought to stay in the city and take of her own damned crisis. And yet, somehow, she'd gotten on the plane anyway.

Ennis was standing near the gate. He smiled when he saw her, and she felt herself wanting to cry again. It was always so much easier to collapse when there was someone to catch you. She hurried across the waiting area and unabashedly threw her arms around his neck, the flannel of his shirt smelling of campfires and pine trees and horses and the ranch. "Thank you," she said into his shoulder.

"Welcome home, Lizzie," he said.

Liz didn't care whether he'd meant to say "welcome back" and simply misspoke, or if he meant it. She only knew that she agreed. She drew back, wiping at her eyes, and cast a furtive glance around. She had spent most of the flight debating whether she hoped that Jack would be with Ennis when he picked her up, or whether she hoped he wouldn't be. In her state, having just been unceremoniously dumped by her husband before she could get the chance to dump him, which was extremely embarrassing, seeing the man her mind insisted on holding up as the paragon of everything desirable might not be the best thing that could happen. Still, it was Jack, and she wanted to see him.

At any rate, he didn't seem to be here. Ennis caught her quick look around. "Lookin' for my better half?" he said, smiling.

"He didn't want to come with?" she asked, trying and failing to keep the hurt tone from her voice.

Ennis chuckled, leading her away from the gate with a companionable arm around her shoulders. "Don't take it personal. He's in Chicago. North American Cattle Breeders' Association convention. He goes every year."

"You don't go with him?"

"Nah. Ain't my scene. As many ribbons as he's won, he's kind of a celebrity at that convention. I'd hate t'cramp his style. This year they actually asked him t'give a speech. Spent the last week agonizin' about it."

Liz smiled, picturing Jack standing at a podium in front of an audience of ranchers and breeders and cowboys. She imagined him talking about cattle and husbandry and stud fees, confident and funny, winning over his listeners, as was his way in everything. "When's he back?"

"Tomorrow."

They were crossing the parking lot now, and Liz was grateful for a topic of conversation that didn't involve her own situation. "How long's he been gone?"

"Since last Thursday."

"I bet you're anxious to have him back, then."

"Yeah. It's always the same. He goes on one 'o his trips and the first day, I'm glad for the peace 'n quiet. But by the second mornin' 'o wakin' up alone I'm countin' the days till he's back."

They got into Ennis's truck. Liz buckled herself in, sighing and relaxing against the seat. "And to think you used to not see him for months at a time," she said.

Ennis nodded as they left the parking lot. "I know. Lookin' back, I got no idea how I did it, how either of us did it. 'O course, we weren't used t'seein' each other every day, like we are now." He merged onto the highway and eased up, settling in for the drive home.

Liz waited for him to ask her what was going on, but he didn't. He just drove in silence, one hand on the wheel, the other one braced on the window frame. "You haven't asked me what happened," she finally said.

"You told me enough. No job, no home, no husband. You c'n tell us the whole story once Jack gets home. No use tellin' it twice."

The house seemed to reach out to her as Ennis parked the truck in the garage. Exhaustion that went deeper than flesh was overtaking her, and she practically poured herself out of the truck.

Ennis didn't talk, he just walked her to her old bedroom, taking her bag away and setting it on the chair. He sat her down and disappeared for a moment, returning with a t-shirt. "One 'o mine, oughta do you for sleepin'," he said. "Where's all your clothes and things?"

"My neighbor has everything," she said. "It's okay, he'll keep it for me."

"Okay, then." He bent and peered at her. "You jus' get some sleep, okay?"

Liz nodded dumbly. She felt drunk, except drunk was more fun. "I feel like I might never wake up."

"You sleep as long as you want."

She met his eyes and felt her own welling up yet again, this time with affection for Ennis and gratitude for his friendship. "I can't thank you enough, Ennis," she whispered. "But...I had nowhere else to go." As she said it, she realized it was true. Her mother was far away, in Kentucky, and would probably have blamed her for her problems anyway. Her best friend had been increasingly distant since she'd married Charlie, and her other friends were either glorified office buddies or people she knew through Charlie. Sitting at her former desk, wrecked and confused, she'd come up against the truth of how isolated she'd let herself become during her relationship with Charlie. He'd been so all-encompassing for the last year of her life that everything else had fallen away, and then when he'd fallen away, it left her with nothing.

Nothing but a pair of gay ranchers in Vermont who had somehow come to feel more like home to her than the city she'd lived in for years.

"Hush, now," Ennis said. "You know you're always welcome here." He patted her shoulder. "You get some sleep. Everthin'll seem better in the morning, specially once Jack gets home." He smiled at her, tweaking her nose like she was one of his daughters, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Liz stripped and put on Ennis's t-shirt, which smelled like laundry detergent. She slid between the sheets of this impossibly comfortable bed, the power of which was more than a match even for her most troubling thoughts, and within a few moments she was asleep.

Jack shoved his briefcase into the overhead compartment, pulling out a book to read on the flight, and settled into his first-class seat. He hated flying, but since he had to do it with some regularity, he insisted on flying in the less claustrophobic first-class section despite Ennis's squawking over the added expense. It was that or he didn't go at all, he reasoned, and his presence at many of these conventions and shows was important to the business. Half of their stud fee income came from people who'd seen his stock at shows or met him at conferences.

A man in a business suit sat down next to him. They exchanged the perfunctory smiles of strangers forced into close proximity by circumstance, then proceeded to ignore each other. Jack looked out the window, anxious for takeoff. This convention was usually his longest trip of the year, and he was always eager to get home once it was over. He missed Ennis, and the ranch, and he hated being trapped in a sterile hotel room with no one to keep him company. His nightly phone call home was barely a comfort; Ennis was not exactly a sparkling phone conversationalist and sometimes hearing his voice just made it worse. He'd once tried to coax him into some mild sexy talk, but that had gone nowhere fast. He'd told himself that Ennis had become more comfortable with himself and their relationship than he would ever have dared to dream; asking him to have phone sex was possibly pushing his luck just a little bit.

"Anxious to get home?" his seat-mate suddenly said.

Jack turned. The man was smiling knowingly, and Jack realized that his leg was bouncing and he was turning his ring around and around on his fingers. He flushed a little. "Oh...yeah. I s'pose I am. Been away for nearly a week now."

"Me, too. Business trip."

"Same here."

"What's your business?"

"I breed and raise cattle."

The man's eyebrows lifted. "Really? You're...a cowboy?"

Jack smiled. "Some folks call it that."

"Wow. A real live cowboy." He sniffed. "Being a stockbroker sounds so dull after that." He frowned. "So why are you flying to New York? I thought they raised cattle in Texas and Kansas."

"I'm goin' on t'Vermont, actually. That's where my farm is. Just south of Burlington."

"No kidding," the man said, and Jack detected real interest in his tone. It wasn't unusual. People often found his line of work fascinating, especially city people who hadn't grown up around it. "Damn. Well, I bet you're eager to get back to that after being stuck in Chicago for a whole week."

"Oh, you c'n say that again."

The man smiled, nodding down at Jack's hand. "Anxious to see your wife, too, I bet."

Jack didn't hesitate or let himself consider any negative outcomes. It was part of a new theory he was testing. "My husband, actually, but yeah, I'm real anxious t'see him."

His seatmate blinked; his expression didn't change. Jack held his gaze, waiting to see where the ball would land…the fairway or the rough. If it took a bad bounce, this could be a very long flight. The man collected himself and reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. He leaned closer, clearing his throat, and showed Jack a photo of himself and a handsome blond man. "This is Brian," he said, his voice subdued and tinged with wonder, as if he couldn't quite believe he was saying this to a complete stranger. "We've been together for four years."

Jack grinned. "Ain't he a looker."

"Well, I think so." He looked up at Jack. "Do you have a picture?"

Jack pulled out his own wallet and showed him the one photo he carried with him. It was one Marianne had taken, at her daughter's third birthday party. They'd all been sitting around eating birthday cake and watching the antics of a party's worth of kids hopped up on sugar. Marianne had caught him and Ennis looking at each other and laughing. It was Jack's favorite picture of them. They looked so free and happy, like nothing had ever or would ever turn out badly. "That's my Ennis," he said.

His seatmate smiled. "Wow. He looks like Steve McQueen."

Jack frowned, turning the photo this way and that. "Y'think so?" He'd never noticed. "Huh. I kinda got a thing for Steve McQueen. Maybe that's why. Y'really think so?"

"Absolutely." The man held out his hand. "I'm Evan Rosenberg, by the way."

Jack shook the proferred hand. "Jack Twist."

Evan was shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you just said it like that, you just told me, like you were telling me what kind of car you drive. I could have been anybody. Unless you could tell that I'm gay. Could you tell? Do I have a vibe or something?"

Jack laughed. "No, I couldn't tell. Ain't no vibe s'far as I c'n see."

Evan sighed. "I wish I had that kind of courage."

"Ain't courage, friend. You act ashamed, people gonna treat you like you got a reason t'be. I ain't sayin' I go 'round trumpeting it to everbody I meet, but I promised myself I'd never lie about it if it came up." He thought for a moment. "Thing is…we let people know how t'treat us without sayin' a word. If I say it furtive-like, or lower my voice, or look 'round t'see who c'n hear, I'm telling people that I ain't got the same right as them t'be proud 'o what I got. But if I jus' say it like there ain't nothin' wrong, and like there ain't no reason why anyone would ever react in a bad way, then…well, people respond like that. Most 'o the time."

"That's amazing."

"Little theory 'o mine I been testin' out. I jus' come from a conference 'o five thousand cowboys, ranchers and good ole boys, so I got a lot 'o testin' done."

"You told everybody at this conference?"

"Nah. Lots of 'em already know me, so it ain't like it's some kinda big secret. And I don't go to no pains t'bring it up. But if it comes up, I don't lie. I tell it, straight up." He chuckled. "So to speak."

"That could get you beat up. Or killed."

Jack nodded. "That's what Ennis says. I ain't no fool. I'm careful where I go, and who I'm with. And I know it's a risk. But I ain't gonna start denyin' somethin' that's so important t'me just 'cause it might be risky. That ain't no kinda way t'live." He shrugged. "Mos' folks, even if they think we're deviants and goin' t'hell, won't say so to my face. They'll be polite 'n change the subject 'n then talk about me when I cain't hear, which suits me jus' fine. But lots 'o folks don't really give a damn one way or the other. At home, everbody jus' knows me'n Ennis as regular fellas, decent church-going types, and nobody much cares…or if they do, we hardly hear about it."

"You're lucky to live in Vermont."

"Don't I know it." Jack smiled, turning back to the window. "I'm lucky in lots 'o ways."

Ennis hung around the house after lunch. Jack's flight had left Chicago at eight o'clock in the morning, which meant that he should be coming home at any time. He'd called home before leaving the hotel, so Ennis had been able to let him know that Lizzie was back. Jack had made noises about staying in New York when he got there and having a little chat with Lizzie's husband, but Ennis had made it abundantly clear that if he didn't get his ass back home as soon as possible, Charlie would have some company on the shit list. Jack had made a comment about his ass being all Ennis cared about, and it had devolved from there.

As for the lady herself, Lizzie was still asleep. She'd looked so tired and wrung out the night before that Ennis had even been a little alarmed. She'd just been kinda slow, as if her brain wasn't working properly. He wondered how bad things had gotten in the time since she'd left them.

His introspection on this subject was interrupted by the sound of Jack's truck on the drive. Ennis went out to the front porch and waved. Jack waved back and pulled into the garage. Ennis trotted over to meet him as he came around to the tailgate. "Howdy, stranger," he said, hugging him hello with a big grin spreading across his face in spite of himself.

"Hey, cowboy," Jack said. "Miss me?"

Ennis drew back and kissed him hard, gripping big handfuls of his shirt. "That answer your question, dumbass?"

Jack chuckled and yanked him close again, apparently not satisfied with just one kiss after a week away. Ennis let himself relax against him, Jack's hands on either side of his head, and hung on to Jack's beltloops as he worked his mouth over with a thoroughness Ennis wished he'd apply to the yardwork. "Been savin' that up for you," Jack murmured as he pulled back.

"I'm much obliged," Ennis said, reaching in to the back of the truck and pulling out Jack's suitcase. They headed back to the house, Jack with his suitbag over his shoulder. "Flight okay?"

"Yeah. Met a real nice fella on the plane from Chicago. We talked the whole trip. He was gay, too, and real happy t'have someone t'chat with without bein' paranoid 'bout it."

"That so? You try out your new theory on him?"

"That's how he come t'tell me, 'cause I said it first. He said he's gonna try my theory himself."

"Great. He'll be confessin' t'random folks on the street and get himself beat down, and that'll be on your head, Jack."

"Jesus, Ennis, y'gotta be so dour 'bout it?"

Ennis grunted. "Hey, you chattin' up random fellas on airplanes, I oughta just be glad you weren't in the bathroom joinin' that Mile High club."

Jack's jaw dropped, as did his suitbag. "Oh no, you did not jus' say that, you green-eyed sonofabitch."

Ennis smirked. "What you gonna do 'bout it, pansy-ass?"

Jack grabbed him around the waist from behind and lifted him right off the ground. Ennis bucked like a bronco, trying to throw him off. "Wait," Jack said, pausing. "Where's Lizzie?"

Ennis seized the opportunity and turned around, whipping Jack in a circle and getting his arm around his neck. "Still asleep. Ain't nobody gonna come t'your rescue." He ducked and shoved his shoulder into Jack's stomach and hauled him off the ground, seizing his legs and carrying him off like a sack of feed grain.

"Goddamn it, put me down!" Jack grunted, thrashing and pummeling Ennis's back.

"No chance in hell," Ennis said, grinning. He kicked the bedroom door shut behind him and tossed Jack onto the bed. He stepped back and yanked his shirt off over his head.

Jack was quick. He launched himself off the bed at Ennis's waist and tackled him to the bedroom floor. "That's it, hoss. You're done for," he said, straddling his legs and trapping him there.

"Oh damn, what a shame," Ennis said, making no attempt to escape. Jack reared back and tore his own shirt off in one motion. "I guess I'm gonna get it now."

"Goddamn right you are," Jack said, leaning down to dive into Ennis's mouth, seizing it hard and fast. He withdrew again and undid Ennis's fly, then deftly flipped him over. Ennis shifted so he could hang on to the side of the bed as Jack shoved him to his knees. "Whole week 'o beatin' off," Jack gasped, biting out a few curses as he slid home.

"Long fuckin' week," Ennis muttered. He put his head down as Jack went to work, and soon he didn't have the presence of mind for another word.

Jack put his ear to the door. "I don't hear nothin'."

"She's been sleepin' since about one o'clock."

"Damn, that's like twelve hours! We oughta wake her up."

"Go ahead, then."

"You do it."

"It was your idea."

Jack sighed, and knocked lightly. No answer. He knocked again, and heard a sleepy grunt. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open a little. "Swee'pea? It's just us."

He poked his head in the door. Lizzie was turning over, rubbing at her eyes. "Jack?"

He eased the door open wider. "You okay? You been sleepin' a real long time."

She lifted her head up and grinned at him. "Oh, you're home!"

To Jack's horror she slid out of bed and padded to the door to hug him. He averted his eyes, conscious that she was wearing only one of Ennis's t-shirts, and by the feel of things, no bra. "Yep, home from the big city," he said, hugging her back. "Jus' like you."

Liz took a step back, wakefulness coming into her face. She glanced down at herself and gasped, crossing her arms in front of her and ducking back into bed. "Oh, jeez. I'm…sorry, guys."

He and Ennis chuckled. "It's okay, Lizzie. Nothin' we ain't seen before."

"Not of mine!" she exclaimed, blushing magenta.

"No, I'll give you that. I'm gonna get you a bathrobe, okay? Then you better tell us what the hell happened to you in New York."

A few busy minutes found them seated around the kitchen table with coffee, Lizzie wrapped in a robe of Junior's. "I can't believe I slept so long," she said.

"You musta needed the rest," Ennis said.

"I guess. I almost feel human, at least." She set down her coffee mug. "Okay. Well, here's the thing. I'd been quietly making preparations to move out of Charlie's place and file for divorce. I can only think he must have got wind of it somehow. Things had been hard for me at work. I hate to accuse him of it, but I never had any trouble there before things went bad for me and Charlie. My stories would mysteriously disappear, assignments weren't getting to me. Yesterday, I was fired."

Jack shook his head. "That ain't right. You could sue or somethin', couldn't you?"

"Maybe, but it'd be damned hard to prove it and it'd cost a fortune. Truth be told, I'm kind of relieved. Anyway, my friends took me out drinking, and when I got back to the apartment, all my clothes were outside, the locks were changed, and his secretary was, apparently, moving in."

Jack glanced at Ennis. He'd had no clue Charlie was that much of a bastard. "He couldn'ta done it some other day than when you got fired? He had t'go make a bad day worse?"

Liz blinked. "Don't you get it? He was waiting for me to get fired to kick me out! It would have been awkward if he'd kicked me out while I still worked with him, he'd have had to see me every day at the office. He didn't wait a single second longer than he absolutely had to." She shook her head. To Jack's eyes, she didn't look heartbroken so much as pissed off.

"You don't seem too upset," he said.

"I'm just mad!" she exclaimed. "He fucking scooped me! I was planning to move out, so he beat me to it! Bastard. Didn't give me a chance to get my feet under me before he knocked me over."

Jack sighed. "Well, you did the right thing calling Ennis."

"I don't know how I did it. I thought I was calling my mother. I guess my brain is smarter than I am." She smiled at them. "Being here is like Valium. Last night I felt so out of control, so…I don't know. Hysterical. But now, I feel like I can just take things one step at a time, and work it all out."

Ennis nodded. "Well…that's good, then."

"I sure appreciate you guys letting me stay. I promise I won't let it drag on too long."

"What are you going to do?" Jack asked.

Liz blinked, looking like she hadn't thought to ask herself this question yet. "I have no idea." Suddenly, she grinned. "I have no job, no home, no income, a couple thousand bucks in a savings account and absolutely no idea what I'm going to do about it! Isn't that great?" She burst out laughing.

Jack and Ennis cast dubious glances at each other. "Great as that is," Jack said, "I cain't agree with all of it."

She cocked her head, her laughter petering out into giggles. "Which part?"

He smiled. "Ain't true that y'got no home, swee'pea."