A Love Born From Steel

Chapter 15

Ennis came into the bedroom and saw Jack propped up in bed, a book in his hands. "Whatchya readin'?" he asked.

Jack held up the book. "One of Junior's mysteries," he replied.

Ennis laughed. "You readin' little girl books?" he said. "Ain't nothin' else in the house?"

Jack smiled back at him. "I got curious when I was puttin' 'em away the other day, so I started with the one she said was her favorite. I finished that and started in on this. They're pretty good stories—I can see why she likes 'em."

Ennis just laughed, shaking his head. "Jack fuckin' Twist, you are too goddamn much at times." He pulled off his jeans and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"How's Hal?" asked Jack, watching Ennis undress and loving the sight of his body.

"He's good," said Ennis. "Sleepin', but seems comfortable. His breathin' is okay—I propped him up with three pillows, seems t'need that t'breathe."

"Did ya leave a light on or anythin'?"

Ennis nodded. "I found a nightlight in that drawer in the kitchen with all the odds and ends. I plugged that in for him." By now, Ennis was undressed and slid into the bed next to Jack. "Mmm, my favorite part of the day, my favorite place t'be. Kiss me, lover," he said, taking the Nancy Drew mystery out of Jack's hand and placing it on the nightstand.

Jack leaned in and Ennis held Jack's face between his long hands, their tongues twisting together in a little dance. They pulled apart and Jack said, "Ya ever do this before?"

"What, kiss ya?" said Ennis, looking truly amazed at the question. "Yeah, like 10 million times this summer alone."

Jack laughed. "Sorry, that was an abrupt change of subject. No, I meant Hal. You ever take care of someone who was dyin' before?"

Ennis looked at him, surprised. "Of course not. Who'd I care for? My parents were killed when I was 13 and my grandparents were all gone before that. My sis was 18, which was the only thing that kept the three of us from goin' t'an orphanage."

"I asked 'cause ya seem t'be sort of a natural at it, En," said Jack. "Knowin' what t'do, sittin' with him and all."

"Well, I been sittin' with 'im all summer," said Ennis, leaning back against the headboard and adjusting the pillow behind him. "That part comes easy. The rest of it…" he paused, thinking for a minute, then looked at Jack. "The rest of it is like Jill said, it's a natural process. Mebbe I ain't seen a lot of people die, but I sure as hell have seen more animals than I can count be born and die, and we ain't that diff'rent, really."

Jack nodded, then said, "Yup, but I've gotten away from animals."

Ennis kept looking at Jack. "What was it like when Bobby was born?" he asked.

"Whaddya mean?" said Jack, not following the question.

"What I mean is, with Alma, they took her away, drugged her all up, then the doctor came out t'the waitin' room and told me I had a little girl. T'weren't real natural, if you ask me."

"Bobby was the same thing," said Jack. "Didn't realize it could be any other way."

"Think 'bout it, Jack," said Ennis. "Hal was born here in this house, obviously it was diff'rent in the old days."

"Don't ya think bein' in the hospital is safer?" asked Jack.

Ennis thought about that for a minute. "Mebbe for babies, yeah, but what 'bout dyin'? I keep thinkin' 'bout what Jill said, people dyin' in the hospital, attached to tubes and machines…I think it is better this way, with Hal here at home."

Jack reached out and as he loved to do, ran his fingers along Ennis's jaw. "It's a good thing yer doin' cowboy, bringin' him home."

"Yer part of it too, Jack," said Ennis, looking deep into Jack's eyes.

"I'm part of it, but it's really you, En. Yer the one who made the decision."

Ennis nodded. "That's true and you ain't mad, are ya bud?"

Jack smiled at him. "Yer always worried that I'll be mad when you decide t'do somethin'. If that were the case, y'know I'd say somethin', I ain't shy," he said. "No, En, I ain't mad. It's a good thing t'do and I'm glad t'have Hal here." He leaned in and gave Ennis a kiss, then looked at him. "So what happens tomorrow?"

Ennis shrugged. "Jill comes in the mornin', then we sit with Hal, I guess. I was actually wonderin' if we could bring him downstairs, have 'im on the couch in the livin' room, at least for part of the day."

Jack nodded. "That would be nice. Not have him cooped up here in his bedroom, be with us in the house."

"That's what I was thinkin'," said Ennis. "We can ask Jill. I wonder if she has a wheelchair or somethin' we could use t'get him downstairs."

"I 'spect she probably does…or has some idea how t'do it," said Jack. "Shit, he's prob'ly so light you could carry him in yer arms."

Ennis turned to Jack and ran his hand down Jack's chest, letting it rest on his hip, drinking in the look of Jack. "I love you, cowboy," he said, his voice catching a bit in his throat.

"I love you too," said Jack, leaning in and kissing Ennis lightly.

"We're together forever, ain't we?" asked Ennis, his eyes serious.

"That's what we keep tellin' each other," said Jack, with a smile.

Ennis took a deep breath. "Would you do this for me?"

"Do what?" said Jack, not fully understanding the question.

"Keep me home t'die? If all goes accordin' t'plan, I think I'll be dyin' here in this house, right in this bed. Would you do that, keep me home, here at yer side?"

Jack looked pained. "Don't talk like that, Ennis. Don't talk 'bout dyin'. Yer only 33."

Ennis lifted Jack's right hand and kissed his fingers, kissed his palm, then lightly kissed the silver ring. "Lover, I ain't plannin' on dyin' anytime soon," he said. "I want t'be old and gray and have grandkids that I teach t'ride." He paused, then said, "but someday, when I'm like ninety-nine years old or somethin', I might be fixin' t'die and I just wanna know if you'll keep me at home, not stick me in the hospital or nursin' home or somewhere."

Jack looked at him, tears welling in his eyes. The thought of Ennis dying, even sixty-six years hence, was almost more than he could stand. "Mebbe I'll go first," whispered Jack. "Then I won't have t'live through you dyin'."

Ennis tried to smile, but like Jack, he could feel the tears coming. "You die, babe, and that'll break my heart, so I 'spect I'll be followin' right on behind you, 'cause I know I can't live without you." He pulled Jack in close, and could feel the tears spilling on to his shoulder. "I'm sorry, babe," he whispered. "I shouldn'ta brought this up."

"It's okay, En," said Jack, through a shuddering breath. "It prob'ly is good t'talk 'bout, least so we understand." He pulled back and looked at Ennis, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. "What I'd like, En, is to just keel over in a field with my boots on, not go through this dyin' stuff." He paused. "But I realize it prob'ly don't happen that way all the time." He lifted Ennis's hand and in the same gesture, kissed his fingers, the palm and then his ring. "I promise you, En, yer old and sick, I'll do ev'rythin' I can to keep you here at my side. I want you t'die in my arms."

Ennis smiled at him. "Thank you, babe. I promise the same t'you." He reached over and pulled a few tissues from the box on the nightstand, handing some to Jack and then wiping his own eyes. "Here we are again, cryin' over each other," trying to lighten the moment with a joke.

Jack smiled back, taking the crumpled tissues from Ennis's hand and putting them on the nightstand. "Only one cure for that," he said, reaching down and taking a firm hold on Ennis's cock.

"What's that?" said Ennis, falling back on the pillow and feeling the warm glow of desire start to build in his groin.

"I got t'get yer mind distracted," said Jack. "Or mebbe just get yer mind empty of all thoughts."

"You want t'do that, cowboy," said Ennis, leaning in towards his favorite spot on Jack's collarbone, "ya got some work t'do."

"Hmm," said Jack, mumbling as he thrust his tongue into Ennis's mouth. "Then let's get t'work."

Friday morning, Ennis woke up, feeling like it was later than usual. He glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table: 7:30. He couldn't remember the last time he slept that late. He rubbed his eyes and looked at Jack, sleeping in his usual position, curled on his side, one hand under the pillow, black hair fanned across his forehead.

Ennis smiled at himself, thinking of the night before. Now he knew why he had slept in—he and Jack had been at it until probably 3 in the morning. Jack had taken seriously his vow to empty Ennis's head of all thoughts. It turned into one of their "I can't get enough of you" nights, Ennis pounding Jack's ass into the mattress and Jack giving it right back with his fingers and tongue, driving Ennis to a place where the world ceased to exist and all that mattered was the 3975 square inches that was their bed.

Ennis felt a moment of embarrassment, thinking of Hal in the bedroom down the hall, then realized that Hal mostly likely didn't hear anything and if he did, or could, he would probably approve. Over the course of the summer their conversations had become increasingly personal. At first Ennis had shied away but eventually he started to open up, telling Hal stories of their lives together and apart, their fishing trips, and more recently, their months on the farm. He realized he had no one to talk to, except for Jack, about what it meant to love a man and Hal provided a good sounding board. Although in many ways he was as naïve as Ennis and Jack when it came to gay life and culture, at least he was an interested and receptive listener and did offer a few words of wisdom when he knew something about the topic at hand.

Ennis pulled back the sheet and looked at Jack, stroking himself and feeling his cock stiffen in his hand. He reached for the K-Y and got himself good and lubed up, then leaned in and placed his lips on the edge of Jack's ear, gently pulling at the earlobe with his teeth. "Lover, wake up," he whispered in Jack's ear.

"Mmm," said Jack, his voice full of sleep, "why?"

""Cause I want to love you, babe," said Ennis, still whispering. "I want to fuck yer ass again,"

"Oh Ennis," said Jack, pretending to resist and push him away, "you didn't get enough last night?"

"That was last night," said Ennis, pulling Jack's hips toward him, his hand closing on Jack's cock. "This is this mornin'."

"What time is it?" said Jack, still sleepy with his eyes closed.

"7:30," said Ennis, amazing Jack that he actually knew the time.

"We'd better do it quick, then," said Jack, feeling the tip of Ennis's cock pressing in on his ass. "Jill said she'd be here 'round 8:30."

"That gives us an hour," said Ennis, slowly pushing and feeling the muscle relax.

"But I need to clean up so I don't smell like spunk," said Jack, smiling and finding it increasingly difficult to get the words out. "And I wanted t'cook some oat…" He stopped as Ennis reached his full penetration. "Ah fuck," he groaned.

"That's what I'm doing, babe," said Ennis, pulling Jack's hips up and pushing a pillow under his lower back. "Feels good, hunh?"

"Ah fuck," said Jack again, which Ennis took as an affirmative answer. He pushed and pulled, finding his rhythm, while Jack matched his cadence with his hand on his own cock. Jack didn't open his eyes, just let himself be washed away with Ennis in some vast sea of desire, love, and unending sex.

Their climax was mutual and Ennis finished by licking Jack's cock, taking the last bit of cum in his mouth. They fell back on the bed, a tangle of arms and legs, Jack reaching and running his hands through Ennis's hair. After many long relaxing minutes, finally he sighed, "Wake up, cowboy, we're gonna have a guest in no time and we ain't in no way presentable."

Ennis rolled away, smiling at Jack. "Okay, I guess I can be without it for a coupla hours."

Jack sat up. "Ya want t'use the bathroom first?" he asked.

"Let's do it together," said Ennis, with a wink. "Save us some time."

Jack groaned. "Jesus, cowboy, ya gonna drill me in the tub?" he said.

"I'll try t'resist," said Ennis, "but I ain't makin' no promises."

Jack saw Jill's car coming down the drive, right on time. He was in the kitchen, his hair still damp, brewing a pot of coffee and reading the instructions on the back of the Quaker oatmeal container. He was thinking to himself that he should make some extra for Hal's breakfast. He had left Ennis upstairs to straighten up the bedroom and make the bed. They had both realized, at about 8:20, that Jill would likely walk down the hall to the bathroom and their bedroom was right on the way. "Shit, she can't see this," said Jack, looking at the tangled and twisted sheets. "I'd be embarrassed."

"We could just close the door," said Ennis and

Jack laughed. "Just make the fuckin' bed and clean up, willya?" he said. "It's what ya get t'do for gettin' an extra screw this mornin'."

"Okay, boss," said Ennis, giving him a mock salute. "But only if I get more later."

Jack put the oatmeal container down and met Jill at the front door. "Good morning," she said, her smile flashing brightly in her face.

"Mornin'," said Jack, as he opened the door. "I'm brewin' some coffee. You want a cup?"

"Maybe later," said Jill, as she came into the house. "How's Hal?"

"Still asleep," said Jack. "Ennis sat with him 'til 'bout 11 last night." He paused, then continued. "I'm thinkin' of makin' some oatmeal. Could he eat that for breakfast?"

They started walking through the dining room, heading towards the kitchen. "Oatmeal might be good," Jill said. "I'll see how Hal is feeling."

At that moment, they heard Ennis clattering down the stairs, calling out to Jack, "Babe, I'm goin' down t'the stable, gotta take care o'the horses." Before Jack had a chance to reply, Ennis was out the front door, the screen door slamming behind him.

Jack blushed bright red. "I don't think he realized you were here," he said.

"That's okay," said Jill. "The whole point is that I am not supposed to be a disruption."

Jack looked at her, embarrassed, not sure what to say, then, after a pause, "He's been callin' me that more and more lately…I used t'be rodeo."

Jill smiled at him, "It's obvious this is a loving home. That's good for Hal. Dying people should be in a loving environment." She nodded at Jack, who nodded back at her. "This is a much better place to be than the nursing home," she said. "Thank you again."

Jack smiled at her, appreciating the way she had easily moved over an awkward moment. "Oatmeal?" he said. "I think we were talking about breakfast?"

"We were," said Jill, "and what I am going to do this morning." She motioned with her hands and Jack saw that she was holding a basin, bag, and clean pajamas, surprised that he hadn't noticed this before. "I have some medications for Hal, then I'll give him a bath, help him dress in clean pajamas. After that, I'll see if he wants any breakfast. They told me at the nursing home he is eating very little these days."

Jack looked at her. "Ennis and I was wonderin' if we could bring 'im downstairs—have him lie on the couch, at least for part of the day."

Jill nodded and smiled. "I think that's a very good idea. I am sure Hal would like that, if he's up to it."

"How would we get him down here?" Jack asked.

"I have a wheelchair in the trunk of my car," Jill replied. "Actually, it's a pediatric wheelchair so it's smaller and more narrow than the adult kind—should be a bit easier to move up and down the stairs."

"Okay," said Jack, "when En gets back from the stable and yer done with Hal's bath and stuff, we can move him together."

"All right, then," said Jill. "I'll head on up. I didn't bring a towel or face cloth, I assumed you had those here?"

Jack nodded. "Yup. The linen closet is at the head of the stairs. Help yerself."

The next four days flowed into an easy routine, easier than Jack ever expected. Jill came in the morning and took care of Hal's most pressing nursing care, then they moved him to the couch where he rested for the day. Ennis, usually full of restless energy, found comfort and peace in just sitting by his side. On Friday, he had tried to occupy himself with washing windows, but felt that it was too disruptive and abandoned the task. He found he preferred to sit with Hal, usually holding his hand and massaging his fingers, talking in a soft voice or just being quiet and with him. Jack sat with Hal, too, usually reading a book, sensing that Hal knew he was at his side.

The thing that happened—and that Jack didn't expect—were the people who started coming by to visit, pay their respects, and say goodbye. Jeanie Campbell and her husband Bob were the first, coming late on Friday. "The word is out in town," she said to Jack. "People know you brought Hal home. Be prepared for some visitors."

"Visitors?" said Jack.

Jeanie nodded. "Yup, visitors. Hal's lived here all his life. He has a lot of friends."

Jack looked at her and said, a trace of bitterness in his voice. "So where were they all summer, when he was in the nursin' home? Hardly anyone visited him there, it was mostly Ennis, every day, and Tom when he came up from Austin."

Jeanie looked at him. "You're right, Jack, and I don't have an answer for that. Maybe bein' in a nursing home, behind those plate glass windows, people forget he's alive, forget he's there. Now he's home…it's different."

Jack started to say something, then stopped. Jeanie picked up on his hesitation. "What?" she asked, softly.

"You think it's Hal?" he asked. "Or are people comin' 'round t'see the two queers who are buyin' the Lazy L, and havin' Hal at home is givin' them a convenient excuse t'show up?"

Jeanie looked genuinely surprised. "I can't believe you said that," she said. "You're bein' awfully hard on yourself."

Jack shrugged. "Ennis told me 'bout yer conversation at the yard sale…'bout the bad apples in Quanah."

"I don't think the bad apples are Hal's friends, Jack," she replied, "and I don't think Hal's friends will be comin' by to assess your livin' arrangements, either."

Jack continued to look at her, still feeling wary. "Sorry. Perhaps my comment was uncalled for—it's just—well, we've been private all summer. No one's been here, no one knows who we are or what we're doin'. Buyin' this place, I know that's all gonna change."

"You're right, Jack, it will change—and I said that to Ennis. But," she paused for a moment, then continued, "to be honest, I think what you're doin' here is goin' to go a long way to makin' the people of Quanah see you in a positive light."

"Whaddya mean?" asked Jack.

"Doin' this, bringin' Hal home. You didn't need to do this—you're not kin or anythin'. You and Ennis were two guys hired to do a summer job. And look what happened—you became a friend of the family and your fulfillin' Hal's last wish." She looked at Jack. "This is a small town with families that have been here for generations. Family is important in this town—but there are families that wouldn't do what you are doin'. It's goin' to mean somethin', Jack."

Jack looked at her, a small smile on his face. "Well, we didn't do it t'increase our social standin' in Quanah," he said. "We did it 'cause it's what Hal wanted."

"My point exactly," said Jeanie, "and people know it. It says a lot about who you are—and that's more important than who you sleep with at night." She smiled at Jack. "Now, can I go see Hal?"

"Sure," said Jack, "he's in the livin' room, on the couch."

"Oh," she said, walking towards the car. "I almost forgot—I brought you and Ennis some cookies. Chocolate chip." She handed Jack the plate, covered with Saran wrap.

"Chocolate chip, my favorite," said Jack, with a smile. "And I haven't figgered out how t'make these yet."

As Jeanie predicted, people did come by. The elderly ladies patted Jack's or Ennis's hand, usually saying, "Yer good boys, yer good t'do this," while their elderly husbands tipped their hats and said, "Buyin' the Lazy L, I hear, keepin' it as a farm." Seeing his friends gave Hal the energy to smile and say a few words, but no one expected much in the way of conversation. Ennis and Jack both had a sense of peace and tranquility flowing through the house, a feeling neither of them expected.

Tuesday, six days into their vigil, things seemed different. Ennis noticed it when he woke up in the morning and saw, for the first time in weeks, that it was overcast and cloudy. The sun wasn't shining brilliantly over the field as it had been all summer. Jill noticed it when she came to take care of Hal. "He restless and agitated this morning," she said. "Not talking much. I gave him some medication. He also said he wants to stay in his room and if anyone comes to visit today, he might not want to see them."

Ennis nodded. "I'll spend the day with him."

Jill smiled. "That's good. That's what he wants, he specifically said your name."

Late in the afternoon, Ennis was still at Hal's bedside, alternately looking out the window and then down at Hal. Dark clouds scudded across the sky and Ennis could feel electricity crackling in the air. While the tenor of the day was different from the previous five, Ennis still felt that feeling of being centered and at peace. He tried to convey it to Hal through his presence. Hal seemed agitated and restless and had spoken very little during the day.

He picked up one of Hal's hands and began to massage the fingers, the skin feeling papery and cool to his touch. Hal's breathing had been irregular all day, as Jill had told them it might be. There were moments when he stopped breathing. Sometimes it seemed like it was as long as a minute, but since Ennis didn't wear a watch, he didn't really know. But each time it happened, there was little gasp and then Hal started breathing again.

Ennis reached over and brushed the hair off Hal's forehead and in that touch, Hal's eyes fluttered open. "Ennis…" he whispered.

"I'm here, Hal," he said. "No need t'talk."

Hal shifted in the bed, restless. "Ennis…tell me…Jack…"

Ennis smiled to himself. He had lost count of how many times he had told Hal the story of how he and Jack met, but Hal wanted to hear it over and over, and Ennis didn't mind telling it. "It was in May, 1963," he said, "and I hitchhiked into Signal, Wyoming, lookin' for a job from a guy named Joe Aguirre. I was standin' outside Aguirre's trailer when Jack drove up in his truck—a black piece o'shit, 1950 GMC pickup." He smiled at the memory of Jack getting out of the truck and kicking at the tire. "He was wearin' a blue shirt and black hat and kept lookin' at me, and I wouldn't look back, kept lookin' at the ground."

"He introduced himself, all talkative and friendly, pryin' the words out of me. I barely told 'im my name." Ennis paused, thinking back on the memory. "We spent the afternoon drinkin' in a bar, gettin' t'know each other. Jack tellin' me stories, like he always does. Me, I mostly listened." He stopped for a moment. "We slept in his truck, him in the front seat, me in the back. The next mornin', Aguirre's men took us t'the drop off point, and then we went up on Brokeback—me 'n Jack, two horses, two mules, three dogs, and one thousand goddamn sheep."

Ennis paused again and looked out the window, watching the dark clouds move across the sky. "We went up on that mountain, two young kids, not knowin' anythin' 'bout life, or love, or sex…came down all grown up, changed men." He looked back at Hal, who had become less agitated and now was lying quietly in the bed. Ennis didn't know if he was listening or could even hear, but he kept talking. "I was so fuckin' stupid, Hal. Thought I needed to live my life a certain way, didn't let myself believe I was in love with Jack. Didn't even let myself think I could be in love with a man." His voice dropped a notch. "Made myself miserable for thirteen fuckin' long years…"

"When d'it…?" whispered Hal, his voice barely audible.

Ennis knew the question. Hal had asked it before. "When did I fall in love? I don't know, Hal, I've tried t'pick the minute. Jack tells me for him it was outside Aguirre's trailer—or maybe in the bar. For me…I just know we became friends. He was the best friend I ever had—my only friend, really. Then I started fallin' off a cliff. For me, Hal, that's what it was like, fallin' off a cliff for thirteen years. And finally, in May, I hit the ground when I said 'I love you, Jack' for the first time, and then I knew what I had been feelin' all these years."

Ennis looked out the window again and said softly, almost to himself, "I am so fuckin' lucky he gave me three chances and I didn't fuckin' blow it the third time, like I did the other two."

He turned back to Hal, whose eyes were open and seemed brighter and bluer than they had ever looked before. Ennis smiled at him. "Hal, yer eyes are blue like Jack's," he said. "I love blue eyes."

"Yer eyes are brown," whispered Hal. "I had a friend who had brown eyes."

"I know," said Ennis, nodding. "Ya told me." He turned back to the window and looked at the sky. "I think the storm is finally comin'," he said, as he watched the black clouds mass along the horizon. He heard a boom of thunder and saw a crackle of lightning in the far sky. "Yep, there it is." He put Hal's hand down gently and pushed the window shut. Within a minute, rain was pelting against the glass.

Ennis picked up Hal's hand again, listening to the rain and thunder swirling around the house. Hal's eyes opened again and Ennis smiled at him. "More questions? More stories?" he asked.

Hal shook his head, the movement barely noticeable. "No," he whispered, "but Ennis, do somethin' for me?"

"Sure, Hal," said Ennis, "what do you want?"

"Kiss me…" he whispered.

Ennis looked at Hal, slightly surprised at the request, but figured it was easy enough to do. He rose up slightly from the chair and leaned over the bed, kissing Hal lightly on the forehead. He went to sit back down and Hal opened his eyes again. "On the lips…" he said, his voice barely audible.

Ennis hesitated for a second at this request. He had never kissed a man other than Jack before. But as he looked at Hal's blue eyes he realized that he wanted to kiss this man. He held Hal's face between his hands and leaned in, pressing his lips against the older man's, feeling them soft beneath his own, lingering for a minute. He pulled back but kept his face close, looking deep into Hal's eyes. "Yer a good man, Ennis," whispered Hal. "I know why Jack loves you." His eyes closed and his head seemed to sink back into the pillow, as if the talking and kiss had completely exhausted him.

Ennis sat down and picked up Hal's hand again. He looked at his face then looked out the window. The storm seemed to be ending, leaving as quickly as it came. He watched, seeing the rain move across the field, heading east.

He pushed the window open again and the wind blew in, smelling of rain, and grass, and late summer thunderstorms. The sun broke through the clouds and there was a brilliant patch of blue sky and in the patch, a rainbow formed, arcing over the barn and across the sky, the end disappearing in the trees by the river.

Hal gave a shuddering breath and then Ennis felt a spark of electricity travel through his body. His head turned, almost involuntarily, and he looked at the rainbow. "Goodbye, Hal," he said, then turned back to the Hal, realizing instantly that his life was no longer in his body. "Oh my God," he thought, "Hal died and he left through me." He put his hand over his mouth and tears started to run from his eyes and spill down his cheeks. He looked at the rainbow again. "Goodbye, Hal," he whispered a second time.

Ennis sat there for many long minutes, still holding Hal's hand and letting the tears run freely down his face, not trying to stop them, not wiping them away. Finally, the rainbow faded and the sun came out more fully, casting a pinkish-yellow light across the barn and the field. Ennis laid Hal's hand down, and straightened the sheet across his chest. He stood up and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose, then went out of the room and headed downstairs to find Jack.

Jack was standing on the porch, smoking a cigarette, and turned to Ennis when he came out the screen door. "Did ya see the rainbow?" he asked.

Ennis nodded. "I did," he said. "Hal's rainbow. It's how he got t'heaven, I think."

Jack started. "Ya mean…?"

Ennis nodded. "Yup, I mean. Hal's dead. It happened in the moments when the storm ended and the rainbow come out." He paused. "I could feel it happen, Jack," he said. "It was like electricity…I could feel his soul leaving his body and leaving this earth."

Jack crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and pulled Ennis into his arms. "You okay cowboy?" he asked. "Ya need anythin'?"

Ennis gave him a little smile, feeling tears welling in his eyes. "I'm okay. You should go up and say goodbye."

Jack nodded. "I will," he said, softly.

"And then we need t'call Jill," Ennis continued. He paused. "Actually, Jack, would it be okay with you if you took care of that stuff? I don't want t'be in the house when the hearse comes."

"That's fine, En," said Jack. "I'll do the phonin'. I'll call Tom, too."

"Thanks, babe," said Ennis. "I'll just go down t'the stable." Then, the thought suddenly occurring to him, he said, "Oh, shit, the horses!"

"Don't worry, cowboy," said Jack. "I brought 'em in when I saw the storm approachin'. I know Twister gets spooked by lightnin'."

Ennis smiled again at Jack, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you, Jack." He leaned in and gave Jack a loving kiss of thanks.

Jack smiled at him. "Head to the stable, cowboy. I want t'say goodbye t'Hal."

Ennis nodded and walked down the steps of the porch. His long strides quickly covered the ground between the house and the field. He went into the stable and went up to each horse, rubbing their noses and feeding them biscuits. He filled their water and feed buckets, talking to each in a soft voice. Once they were settled, he brought the curry comb and brush into the stall and began to give each horse in turn a long, slow, rubdown and brushing.

While he worked, he could hear cars driving up to the house, doors slamming. He didn't go out to look, didn't want to see. He just kept brushing the horses, the rhythmic motion a mantra that felt soothing to his soul.

Up at the house, Jack was calm and directing the activities. He called Jill, who arrived within thirty minutes. A hearse arrived shortly thereafter; the funeral director and his assistant efficiently removed Hal's body, in a dignified and respectful way. The entire process took less than an hour.

Jack called Tom in Austin and told him that Hal had died. He briefly told him about Hal's last moments, the storm and the rainbow, and Tom said he found that comforting, knowing Hal had had a peaceful death. As with Jill, plans were in place for the wake and funeral. Tom said he'd call the minister at the church and finalize the details for the funeral, which would most likely take place in three days, on Friday. "When do you want me to come to Quanah?" Tom asked. "Tonight? Tomorrow?"

"I think we're okay, Tom," Jack said. "You come when you're ready. Take care of what you need to do in Austin."

"Thanks, Jack," said Tom. "I'll probably be up on Thursday, then, early. I'll call you before I leave. I'll let you know when Darlene and her family will be arriving, too."

"That's fine, Tom," said Jack. "You want t'stay here at the farm?"

"No," said Tom, "there's not enough room for all of us. I'll make a reservation at the Chief Quanah Parker Motel."

"Okay," said Jack, "but you can stay here between things…the wake and all. I'll get some food and beverages, have stuff on hand."

"Thanks, Jack," said Tom. "That's very thoughtful of you."

With everyone gone and the phone calls completed, Jack then went up to Hal's room. He stripped the bed and then made it up fresh, neatly folding the old fashioned chenille bedspread up over the pillow. Jill had taken away the commode and other supplies. Jack picked up the dirty sheets and the empty water glass from the bedside table. As he looked at the room, he realized it looked just like it did on the first day that Tom had taken them through the house. It felt almost as if Hal had never been there.

He went down to the basement, loaded the sheets into the washer and turned it on. Afterwards, he sat on the porch, smoking a cigarette and staring at the stable. The light of the day was starting to fade. Jack didn't know how much time Ennis needed to be alone. He eventually decided to go down to the stable and make sure everything was okay.

Jack found Ennis sitting on the floor in the tack room, his back against the wall, knees pulled up against his chest. He held a cigarette between his fingers but the long ash was evidence he wasn't really smoking, just sitting and holding it.

Jack sat down next to him. He could see Ennis's face was wet with tears. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," Ennis said back.

They sat there for a few minutes, not speaking, then Ennis broke the silence. "I'm gonna miss 'im, Jack," he said. "I'm gonna miss that old guy."

"I know you will, En. I'll miss him too."

"He taught me a lot, Jack. He taught me about the farm, he taught me about bein' friends, he taught me about you. …" Ennis looked at the cigarette in his fingers, almost burned to the end. He crushed it on the floor of the tack room, then absent-mindedly put the butt in his pocket. He turned to Jack. "He taught me…he taught me….," Ennis struggled to get the words out, then abruptly said, "He taught me I'm gay, Jack. I know that now. I understand it."

Jack smiled. "Tell me what ya mean, En," having a feeling he knew full well what he meant but sensing that Ennis needed to express it out loud.

"Jack, if I had been born in a dif'rent time, I could've fallen in love with him. You could tell he had been a good lookin' guy when he was younger. And we had a lot in common. We liked t'talk about animals, this farm, the seasons, pass the time o'day…he was just a regular, down-to-earth fella. If I was closer to his age, I could see fallin' for him. Hell, even now, I think I was a little bit in love with him." He paused. "I hope ya don't mind me sayin' that."

Jack shook his head. "I don't mind at all, En. In fact, I think he was in love with you. That was pretty obvious t'me."

"Really?" said Ennis. "Why d'ya say that?"

"Remember the very first day we met—he asked you why you were so quiet, said he wanted to get t'know ya better. I think he was fallin' for you right at that moment."

Ennis was surprised. He didn't know what to say. He had never quite thought of Hal in that way, but now that Jack said it, it all seemed very clear. "Is that okay, Jack? D'ya have a problem with it?"

Jack shook his head. "Of course not, En. Nothin' came of it, and I think you gave some comfort and happiness to an old man in the last months of his life. Besides," he added, "how can anyone not fall in love with you? Look at me."

Ennis smiled as Jack said this. "Well, like I was sayin'—here for years I've been tellin' myself I ain't queer because there's no other guy in the world for me except for you, and look what happens. I find out there is another guy—'cept he's old enough t'be my father." They both laughed at this. "My point is, though, Jack—I get it now. I finally understand. I'm like you. I'm gay."

Jack put his arm around Ennis's shoulders and pulled him close. "Y'know, En, I'm glad you worked all this out in yer mind and yer happy with it." He paused a bit, then said, "Yer prob'ly gonna laugh at this 'cause I'm the one who's been pushin' ya t'say yer gay, but y'know what?"

"What?" said Ennis.

"It doesn't really matter, does it? It's just you 'n me. Yer the one who's been tellin' me that all along—mebbe you were right, after all."

Ennis laughed. "Oh Jack, sometimes you are too fuckin' much. Ya bug me all summer about bein' gay and I finally figger it out and now ya tell me it don't matter?" He laughed even harder. "Fuck that, Jack, I'm gay, and I'm gonna start sayin' it as much as I say 'I love you.'"

"But it is just you 'n me, cowboy," said Jack, laughing back.

"Yup, that's right Jack. You 'n me, forever. I love you, cowboy."

"And I love you too."

They sat there, Jack's arm around Ennis, Ennis's head resting on Jack's shoulder. The room grew darker and Jack finally roused them both. "Hungry, cowboy? Want somethin' to eat?" Ennis nodded and they pulled themselves to their feet, Ennis brushing off the dust from the back of his jeans. They started back towards the house, hand in hand, when Ennis abruptly stopped.

"I want t'tell ya somethin', Jack," he said. Jack didn't say anything, just waited. "I kissed Hal. He asked me to. I kissed him, just a little while before he died."

"And…?" Jack asked.

"I just wanted ya t'know."

"And what happened?"

"Nothin'—he just smiled, said I was a good man, and he knew why you loved me. Then closed his eyes. That was the last thing he said."

"Well," Jack said, "I suppose it is a measure of a person to die sayin' truthful things. You are a good man, En. One of the best."

"Oh, Jack, I don't know what t'say…thanks, I guess," said Ennis.

"No need for thanks, when it's the truth," replied Jack.