Ennis Del Mar woke before five, wind hissing around the sides of his house and hitting hard against his bedroom window. He got out of bed grudgingly, knowing he had to be at work in a little while, but longing for the comfort of his cool sheets and pillow that molded to his body and soothed his aching head.
He stumbled into the bathroom for a piss and flicked on the light, causing his head to pound a little harder and his stomach to lurch.
"Shoulda known better than ta been drinkin' till all hours a' the night. Should know better by now."
But Ennis Del Mar was a sensible man, and usually he did know better. He hardly ever drank to the point of drunkenness, at least not these days. The days when he was a heavy drinker had been when he was married to Alma. But since he'd gotten divorced, and more level headed he liked to tell himself, he'd learned how to control his drinking and many other things in lieu of working harder than ever to pay child support. Of course he'd always been an extremely dedicated worker, but he'd had to put in extra hours to be able to afford his own place and pay the $125 a month for Junior and Francine. He learned how to limit himself to a couple of beers on Friday or Saturday night, and he'd never let himself get too carried away, no matter how poorly he was feeling or who might be there encouraging him. Now, he was long past having to pay child support, but the habit had stuck through the years.
So Ennis wasn't used to waking up with a hangover and having to go to work, and this morning, his hangover was particularly wicked. His stomach felt sour and nervous, and his head hurt so badly he could barely keep his eyes open. It was rough.
He turned the light back off to ease the sharp pain shooting from his right eye to the back of his skull and went about his morning business. When he was brushing his teeth (trying hard not to gag because he'd never had the strongest of stomachs) he found himself wondering exactly what had happened the night before. He knew he was out drinking, but in his foggy haze, he couldn't remember why one earth he'd let himself get so out of control. He cut his tooth brushing short, spitting the extra paste into the sink, and shuffled back to his bedroom to get dressed. He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled on his jeans and boots and buttoned up his shirt, too tired and woozy to stand and dress.
Another strong gust of wind whistled around the small house as Ennis walked slowly into the dark kitchen. He steeled himself before switching on the light, but he needed to see what he was doing so he could make some coffee and take some aspirin. His eyesight had never been too good and as he got older it had just gotten worse. Junior finally convinced him to see the optometrist in Atlantic City, just a ways west in Fremont County. He'd gotten a pair of glasses, but Ennis, stubborn as a mule, refused to wear them because he didn't like the way they felt on his ears and nose. His daughter kept telling him that his eyesight would only get worse if he didn't wear them and Ennis would shrug and grunt in response. He'd never needed no glasses before, and he didn't need them now. Junior would roll her eyes and tell him he was impossible, which would only make Ennis smirk to himself, secretly amused at how Junior had taken to mothering Ennis as he'd gotten older.
"Life goes on and the next thing ya know, yer kids are takin' care a' you."
Ennis chuckled as he started the morning coffee and then immediately regretted it because laughing only made his head ache worse. While the coffee brewed, he pulled out a bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet and popped a couple in his mouth without water. He had always found they worked quicker when they were chewed, and he liked the bitter taste.
Ennis walked into the living room to turn on the TV. He wanted to see what the weather was going to be like during the day, hoped that maybe the wind would die down because he didn't feel like working out in the cold for long. He picked up the remote that was sitting on the table next to his recliner, and then froze when he caught sight of the man sprawled out on his couch. Recognition hit him like an arrow and all at once he remembered what had taken place the night before. Ennis smiled despite his mood and his headache at the sight of Jack Twist laying on his stomach with his mouth open against the sofa cushion, black/gray hair sticking up in every direction. He set the remote back on the table, not wanting to wake the sleeping man on the sofa, and figured he would have to deal with the weather no matter what it turned out to be. He picked up the afghan that Junior had crocheted him for his last birthday and laid it over Jack's softly snoring form.
He headed back into the kitchen and sat at the small wooden diner table, lopsided grin firmly planted on his face. Now he remembered why he'd drank so much, was surprised he could've forgotten. He'd been out with Jack, who he'd just met the night before, but already felt was an old friend. He guessed there were some people who just hit it off right away.
Ennis had never been very good at making friends, had never been good at being talkative and sociable. He was a loner, had been born that way, and try as he may was never been able to tear the trait out of him. He'd never really wanted to, though, because honestly he liked keeping to himself. There were guys at work who were always real friendly with him, tried to get him to come out of his shell by asking him to hang out with a group of their buddies at this bar or that. Ennis would sometimes indulge himself and go, but he was never real keen on the idea. He was a serious guy, worked hard, and loved his two daughters, and that's all. He didn't need or want to be with anyone besides his family, which now mostly consisted of Junior and sometimes extended to her husband Curt. His younger daughter, Francine, had gotten a scholarship through church to go to a Christian college, and, being the adventurer she was, had chosen to go out of state, something he'd never dreamed of or had the courage to do. She'd moved to California, and some how or another found herself in an 'artsy' crowd which eventually landed her in San Francisco working at a homeless shelter and pregnant out of wedlock. She visited once every few years and brought her son with her, but between the visits, he never heard much word from her. So Ennis spent most of his free time alone or with Junior. No need for friends.
But something about Jack Twist…well, something about him was different. Ennis had immediately been drawn to him. He'd seen Jack when they were in the bar, before the fight broke out. Ennis had noticed he was starring at him, could feel a set of eyes looking in his direction. Of course, Ennis' first reaction had been anger; he'd wanted to know who this guy was and why he was acting as though he'd never seen another human being in a bar before. He'd given the man a cold glare, daring him to keep on starring, wanting to be left alone after a long day at work. The glare worked.
But after seeing how the man had handled himself in response to a lewd comment from Joe Casey, one of Riverton's well known troublemakers, Ennis had found himself suddenly intrigued by this stranger. He'd studied him, taken in his dark, expensive seeming jacket and hat, the hunched way he sat at the bar, and the sad, somehow defeated look he had on his face. His study was interrupted when Dale Jefferson and his cronies (including Joe Casey) had found the man interesting enough to trouble.
Ennis had witnessed the scene unfold in silence with the rest of Bottom's Up's faithful patrons, but slowly, coldness had settled itself at the base of his spine and begun to work its way up his body. He could feel his hands clench into fists. He didn't want to sit and watch those drunken hicks pick on the man at the far side of the bar. Ennis was usually the type to keep to his own business, always left when a fight broke out (unless it involved him of course), but this time he felt he couldn't just walk away and leave the poor guy to the hounds. Truth was, Ennis felt bad for him, he looked like a nice enough guy and he certainly didn't deserve to get the brunt of some drunk's anger. Despite his own anger, Ennis stayed in his seat even as the fists began to swing, telling himself that it wasn't his place to interfere. He didn't even know the man, and maybe he wouldn't want any help, but when he'd seen Joe Casey slug the stranger wearing the dark hat and jacket on the side of the head, something in Ennis had snapped. He was instantly on his feet and at the man's side, drawn into the fight like a fly to honey. Watching him drop to his knees and then crumple on the ground had been too much, and Ennis' rage had gotten the better of him. He'd drawn his fist back into the air and slammed the fist idiot he could get his hands on hard against the jaw. He was able to take them off guard, keep them at bay for a second, but it was just long enough that by the time they started to charge again, the other men in the bar had gotten up and joined the fight. He'd looked down at the man on the wood floor, feeling immediate concern and regret that he hadn't stepped in sooner, could've kept him from getting hurt at all. So he'd helped him up and they'd gone outside.
Ennis stood slowly and poured himself coffee, hoping it would settle his stomach and help the aspirin take effect quickly. He sat back down with his steaming cup and took a sip. He cursed when it scalded his tongue and spit the mouthful back into the mug. Seemed like he always made the coffee too damn hot. He returned to his thoughts, letting the steaming java cool.
After they'd introduced themselves, Jack had gotten a little green around the gills. At first Ennis was afraid he was having a heart attack, but was relieved when he'd said he was just a little woozy from the punch to the temple and had then offered to buy Ennis a couple of drinks. For once the thought of refusing hadn't even crossed his mind, in fact, he was flat out pleased by the offer. He wasn't sure what it was about Jack Twist, but he'd felt unusually comfortable around him from the moment they'd exchanged words outside the seedy Bottom's Up Bar, and for perhaps the first time in his life, wanted to get to know him, to be near him.
So they'd headed to the Cedar Bar, Ennis humming in his truck the whole way. He had a brief scare when Jack had driven past the entrance to the bar, thought maybe the offer for a drink was just a bunch of bull shit, but was immediately reassured when he made a fast u-turn and pulled into the parking lot. They talked and drank all evening and Ennis thought he'd never had so much fun. He was amazed how easily he chatted with Jack, how open he was about even his personal business.
Ennis smirked and took another sip of coffee, blowing on it before he let it touch his burnt tongue. He thought about Jack's laughter, his easy smile, his funny way of telling stories, his deep blue eyes. Ennis shook his head. Yep, he'd definitely consider Jack a friend, even though they'd only known each other for a few hours. He couldn't explain it, but he liked Jack Twist. Genuinely liked the man.
"Coulda sat there drinkin' with him till the cows came home."
Ennis finished drinking his coffee and put the cup in the sink. He could've eaten breakfast; still had a few minutes if he wanted to take the time to make it, but his stomach was in no shape or mood to handle anything solid. He picked his hat up off the counter where he'd left it the night before and settled it on his head. Then he walked back into the living room to grab his keys and head out the door. He stopped again, before he left for work, to look at the sleeping man on the couch.
The night before, when they were about to part ways, Ennis had felt a sudden, horrible stab of despair that they had to say goodbye, that they couldn't just go on talking and drinking forever. He knew Jack was probably only in town for a day or so, and the thought that he would never see him again struck him like a blow to the gut. He'd fast made a good friend, maybe the only friend he'd ever made, and they were about to leave each other heading in opposite directions, and that would be that. He'd shaken his hand, not wanting to let go, wanting to hold on tighter and tell him, "Don't go, please don't go. I thought I didn't need no one else 'cept ma family, thought I didn't need no friends, but I was wrong. Please stay, please don't go." but couldn't get the words out, and wouldn't have said them, no matter how drunk he may have been.
He'd stood there helpless as a newborn colt while Jack got into his truck, stood there cursing the clock and cursing his job, and cursing the fact that Jack was leaving, cursing the fact that he couldn't open his fool mouth and ask him to stay. But then, miraculously, Jack's truck didn't start. Ennis had taken a look at his engine, but hadn't seen anything wrong. He'd offered to drive Jack to where he was staying and was secretly pleased at the thought of spending at least a few more minutes with the man. He was also pleased that his truck was out of commission so he would be in town for a little while longer. Just the thought that Jack would still be in Riverton, even if he weren't with Ennis, was a comfort. But, Jack hadn't had a place to stay, just been passing through, he'd said, and he needed somewhere to rest for the night. Ennis' stomach had flip-flopped and he'd immediately thought to invite Jack to stay at his place. But then he'd held back, sensible Ennis returning momentarily, weary at the thought of letting a stranger into his house. Letting someone else stay in his personal space seemed so intimate, such an invasion of privacy, and Ennis was a very private man. But then the idea of never seeing Jack again resurfaced, won the battle, and Ennis had invited anyway, ignoring any hesitations.
And here he was on his couch, sleeping, looking more like a little boy than any 56-year-old man had a right. Ennis felt the minutes ticking by, knew he had to leave the house and get to work, but didn't want to tear his eyes of Jack's peaceful face.
"He sure does look good sleeping there like that. Bet he's real good with the ladies, certainly is handsome enough…"
He cut his gaze away and opened the front door as quietly as he could, leaving Jack, and any thoughts he had about his strong features and deep blue eyes, behind him.
Ennis arrived at The Owl Creek Ranch (named for the northern range it was located on) at 5:30 am on the dot. It was a fairly large cattle operation that was well known for the amount of money they got per head at the stock auctions. Ennis had been working there for nearly five years, the longest he'd stayed in one place. He stayed mainly because it was near Riverton, which is where his daughter had taken permanent residence after briefly living in Casper with her husband.
He pulled his old Chevrolet next to Stoutamire's pick up. Him and Stoutamire usually parked outside the main barn, which held some of the large equipment—tractors, skidsteers, and some hay tools. Stoutamire, the ranch's foreman, was most likely already out in the fields with the steer.
Ennis had been working for Grady Stoutamire for nearly ten years total, though on different ranches and with several years in between. He'd started out with him when Grady had his own ranch just outside Signal back in 82'(around the time Ennis had been seeing a waitress that worked in a local bar), but then the ranch had gone under because of the poor buyers market, and all the horses and cows had been sold, all the workers paid off, and Ennis was left with nothing. He'd had to stay with Junior for a few months just after her and Curt had gotten married. Ennis felt like an intruder all the while. Of course Junior had assured him that he was welcome as long as he needed to stay, but he'd found work on another ranch as quick as possible so he could afford his own place.
He'd worked on several different ranches for a few years, and then he'd gotten word that Stoutamire was at another ranch outside of Casper and had been made foreman. Ennis always liked working for Stoutamire, he'd always been a fair boss and certainly respected the amount of dedication and talent Ennis had for working with stock. So Ennis went to work at the Bucking S. Cattle Ranch. He was there with Stoutamire for a couple months and then ol' Grady had been offered a better deal at The Owl Creek Ranch, same job as foreman, but better pay and healthcare. The owner of Owl Creek, Jeremy Grahams, said that he could bring along a couple of his best workers if he wanted and he'd double their hourly wage. Stoutamire had agreed and brought Ennis and another younger ranch hand, Sam Bufford, along with him.
Ennis like working on Owl Creek okay. He didn't hate it, anyway. There certainly was a lot of work for him to do on a ranch that big, and after a few years he had found himself as a sort of second in command to Stoutamire. Ennis would take over when he couldn't be there, which wasn't often, and got to order the younger ranch hands around, something Ennis was never real comfortable with. He wasn't too good at being the boss; it wasn't that he didn't know how to be a foreman, hell, he knew every ranch he stepped foot on like the back of his hand after a few days, he probably knew The Owl Creek even better that Stoutamire, could've told the other ranch hands what to do in his sleep. But he'd been told what to do his whole life, had always been the hand, the low man, the worker, and giving people orders meant stepping out of his quiet, protective shell and having to raise his voice so that others would listen and follow his commands. He'd gotten used to doing it, but still cringed a little on the days when Stoutamire wasn't there.
Ennis walked around the side of the big equipment barn to where the stables were located. He passed a few of the young men that worked there, and they all tipped their hats and said, 'Hey there, Mister Del Mar,' and Ennis would nod in return. He walked into the stable, saddled up his favorite horse, Jenny Wren, and rode out into the field where Stoutamire was waiting, just as the sun began to rise.
Around noon, Jack Twist re-entered Ennis' thoughts. He was on his lunch break. Art Granger's wife had surprised the hands by bringing Subway sandwiches, which had pleased Ennis to no end because his hangover had disappeared during the day and he was now quite hungry. He was sitting under a large oak tree, a ways from where the rest of the boys sat by some picnic tables, shoveling the roast beef sandwich into his mouth and not thinking much about anything except how fast he could get the next bite down, when suddenly a funny story Jack had told the night before popped into his head.
He'd been telling him about one year when they had the company Christmas party in a bar with a mechanical bull.
"Ya see, I used ta ride bulls in the rodeo, won me a few buckles, some award money here n' there. Anyway, I was pleased as shit we were there, was hoping maybe some a' the folks from the office would get drunk enough ta give it a go."
Jack took a swig of his beer and a twinkle appeared in his eye.
"Well, it musta been my lucky day, cuz, who would decide ta up n' ride the bull but my father-in-law, one a the stupidest sons' a bitches in all a' Texas. He always used ta make fun a' me fer bein' a bull rider, prob'ly was jealous, the ol' bastard. So here he goes, drunk outta his mind, climbin' up on this mechanical bull, and every one in the office is hootin' and hollerin' and encouragin' him, cuz they all wanna see him fall on his ass as much I do."
The waitress brought them more drinks and then Jack continued.
"He was on that thing fer maybe four seconds, course it was goin' at a slower speed than a bull with three legs. And then he gets up, chest all puffed out and calls over ta me, 'See there, Rodeo,' he says, 'Bull ridin' ain't that hard.' And then when he leans over ta pick up his hat that had fallen off, his pants split right down the center, exposin' his ass ta everyone that wanted ta see, not that anyone would wanna see that."
Jack had laughed and laughed when he'd finished telling Ennis the story, and Ennis had chuckled right along with him, more tickled at the state Jack had gotten into than the story itself, he'd figured it was one of those things that was funnier if you'd been there. Ennis smiled at his memory of that man laughing so hard he'd been squinting his eyes closed and grabbing at his stomach. Ennis thought he'd never seen a finer sight, thought he could never grow tired of seeing Jack Twist laugh till he was red in the face.
He finished his sandwich and leaned back against the tree, pulling his hat over his face for a few minutes of peace and quiet before going back to work. He thought again on how Jack had said he was just passing through, thought on what it would be like to watch him leave and know he was never coming back. Something tightened in Ennis' chest at the thought, but he knew it was inevitable. He hoped Jack would be in town for at least a couple more days.
Ennis had never had company stay in his house for more than a few hours, and found he couldn't think of anyone he'd rather have as a guest than Jack. He sighed and thought more on Jack's friendly smile, his kind eyes, and the way he had of relaxing Ennis out of his usual silence. Other's would try to force Ennis to talk, put him on the spot when he didn't want to be, but the night before Jack had done most of the talking, never making Ennis feel like he had to add more than a 'yep' or a 'sure do', which had put him at ease enough to share stories himself.
He began to put together a little fantasy (something Ennis never did because he thought dreams were foolish and only for those with too much time on their hands) where he and Jack were ranch neighbors. Ennis would own a little horse ranch, for horses were the animals he truly loved, and Jack would own a little farm just a ways from Ennis' own. They would get together at nights and drink and talk and play checkers maybe, and Junior would come and visit with her newly adopted child, and Jack's granddaughter would visit too, and learn to ride horses Ennis kept on his ranch. He could see them on a porch together, two old men, sitting in comfortable silence and every now and then a sharing a memory or two. It would be some sweet life.
Ennis was stirred by the sound of Stoutamire telling all the ranch hands to get back to work, that lunch was over. He stood slowly, hands on his knees, and brushed off his hat, and then tossed his sandwich rapper in the open steel barrel where they collected their trash. He headed back to the stables to mount Jenny Wren and get on with his daily duties. Now that he was up and moving, he scolded himself for being so foolish, daydreaming about something that would never happen.
"Yer an ol' fool, Del Mar. You don't even know Jack Twist, and all ready yer makin' him out ta be yer best friend. Yer jest lonely. Maybe ya should take some a' Junior's advice and go out with the guys from work more, try and make some friends that ya can keep."
But Ennis didn't want to make friends with other guys from work. He wanted Jack Twist. Felt like they'd known each other forever, felt like he should've had miles and miles of memories with him, felt that Jack Twist was maybe the only person that had ever understood him and maybe ever would.
"Don't be stupid. Last night ya were drunk, yer mind wasn't what it normally is, probably woulda thought that the pope himself was the only one that could understand ya, had he been the one ya were drinkin' with."
Ennis put his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up onto Jenny Wren, leading her out to the section of the northern fence that was being repaired. The breeze against his face and the feel of the horse trotting allowed him to clear his head and forget about his dreamt life with the man he'd only met the night before. Some things would just never work out. Still, despite his reasoning, he couldn't ignore the excitement that was growing stronger and stronger at the thought of coming home from work to Jack Twist.