Jack wandered back into 611 A, took his hat off and sat down in the chair that Lureen had just occupied. He let out a sigh as he leaned back and rubbed at his tired face, then folded his hands in his lap and watched his little girl sleep, breathing in and out, in and out.

"You all right?"

Jack looked up at his weary daughter-in-law. He'd forgotten she was there in his shock over the confrontation he'd just had. For the second time that day, Jack realized the pain and suffering that Marla had been going through simply by looking at her face—the way her usually large mouth looked thin and pale, the purple bags under her eyes.

Jack took in a breath and gave her a soft smile.

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm okay. Just tired." He straightened in his chair. "I'm sure ya know what I mean."

At the comment, Marla yawned, put her hand with its long fingers over her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed.

"Oh, s'cuse me." She shook her head as if trying to ward off the sleepiness. She smiled back at Jack.

"Really though, I'm not tired." Marla scooted her chair closer to Eliza's bed.

"Won't be able ta sleep till I know she's better anyway."

The small woman ran her hand up and down Eliza's small, pale arm. The sight of the two of them was enough to break Jack's heart.

"She'll be okay, I know she will." The words sounded forced and lame out of his mouth. He knew the truth as well as Marla; Eliza would die if the fever didn't break soon.

Marla nodded her head and sat back in her own chair, folded her hands in her lap, mimicking Jack's previous position. She kept a steady eye on him.

Jack caught her gaze and smiled again.

"Yes…?"

She shook her head and chuckled slightly. "Nothin'. It's just so good ta see you back. Fer a while there, when we didn't know where you were, I was so worried, I had no one else ta share my worry with."

Jack felt the guilt rise in his throat like bile once again.

"Now that you're here, I just feel better, ya know? It may sound silly, nothin' has changed, but just sittin' here with you makes me feel so much more…hopeful."

Jack was moved. He stood up from his chair and walked over to Marla, bent down and gave her a soft kiss on the top of her head, then grabbed her shoulder and massaged it a little.

"It's good ta be back, too. Fer you as much as fer 'Liza."

Marla leaned into the massage for a minute, then patted Jack's hand. He walked back to his chair and sat down.

"What were you doin' in Wyoming anyway?"

The question caught Jack off guard and he swallowed some saliva the wrong way, started choking and coughing. Marla sat up, alarmed, but Jack waved her away and was able to get control of himself.

He thought about his answer for a moment, then decided honesty (to an extent) was the best policy.

"I was on a fishin' trip with a buddy a' mine."

Marla was quiet for a minute.

"Oh."

Jack felt like she wanted him to go on, but he wasn't sure what else to say.

"Is he an old friend a' yers? I don't ever remember you goin' up ta visit him before…"

Jack cleared his throat. "Right. Well…we, uh, met herdin' sheep in the summer a' 63', been friends ever since."

The lie felt right to him, the way things should have been, the way they should have met. Jack saw that she still had a perplexed look on her face and coughed again.

"It's jest, we haven't been able ta see each other that often. He's a ranch hand, s'got a busy schedule."

She nodded in understanding. "I guess it was good ta see him then."

Jack took in a deep breath, looked past Marla at the bleeping heart monitor.

"Yeah, real good ta see him. Real good."

Marla played with her hands for a few seconds. She looked back up at Jack after a moment.

"I bet you're real sorry all this happened and interrupted yer vacation with yer friend. He was probably upset."

Jack shook his head.

"Nah, Ennis understands." It was the first time he'd spoken his name to anyone and it felt damn good to hear out in the open. Jack wanted to say his name to every one he knew.

"Ennis, Ennis, Ennis…"

Jack smiled. "Ennis understands, and nothin' could a' kept me from comin' home."

"Not even the man you love."

Jack shrugged, played with the front of his coat. "This is the only place I wanna be right now, and that's that."

It troubled Jack because he wasn't sure if he was lying or not. Marla seemed to eat it up either way though.

"I'm real glad you're here, and so's Lureen. She's been under a lot a' pressure these past few days. She wants ta be here, but someone has ta be at the office, and Bobby needs ta be here some a' the time." Marla shook her head. "It's just awful."

"I know it is. I know…"

Jack looked down at his little girl lying in the bed and felt a steel grip of dread wrap its way around his heart. He might have told Marla she'd get better, but honestly Jack wasn't so sure.

At a quarter after noon, Bobby came into the hospital room, brief case in hand, business suit pressed and neat, brown leather cowboy boots clacking on the tile floor. Jack found it amusing that Bobby was so attached to his boots that he wore them to work. Jack only wore boots outside the office, though he always had a hat with him. Bobby on the other hand never wore a cowboy hat (he said he found it tacky) yet everyday he came to the office with his expensive pair of leather cowboy boots he'd gotten from Dallas one summer when he'd taken Marla and Eliza to the city.

Bobby came in, purveyed the situation, and then set his brief case on the floor near Eliza's bed. He pulled out a handkerchief from his lapel pocket and wiped at his face.

"Good Lord it's hot out there. Damn."

He tucked the cloth back in his jacket and walked over to Marla's chair, gave her a peck on the cheek and a squeeze on her shoulder. He turned and faced Jack.

"Dad." His tone was curt, short, and emotionless.

Jack nodded his head.

"How ya doin' Bobby?"

Bobby loosened his tie and cleared his throat. "I guess as good as I can be under the circumstances."

Jack looked down at his own boots, not sure what else to say, not sure what he could do to console his son. He'd never been very good at communicating with the boy when he'd been young, and the trend had continued as he'd gotten older. Bobby had always been real close to Lureen and whenever he needed to talk he'd go to her.

Jack remembered one day years before, when Bobby had been twelve and had woken up from a wet dream. Lureen had discovered it after doing the laundry one Sunday, and she'd told Jack to go talk to him. Jack had been more than willing, finding a bit of excitement in the idea that his little boy was becoming a man. Jack had given him the spiel; boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy fucks girl, and all the while Bobby had been dead silent staring down at his feet. It may have been because the subject embarrassed him, but Jack had had the creeping suspicion that it was more because Bobby just didn't want to hear anything from his dad. When he'd finished talking, Bobby'd looked up, told Jack he didn't have any questions, and then left the room. Jack had been left sitting backwards on a undersized desk chair, staring at an empty, unmade bed, wondering what had just happened, and where he'd gone wrong.

All that was past now, but nonetheless, he still had the same trouble talking with his son, and he always looked back on that moment as the beginning of the end of their relationship. Jack looked up from the ground and took a good look at his boy—Jack corrected himself; Bobby was no longer a boy, he was now a man by a long run.

He was the spitting image of Jack, around six foot, black hair, blue eyes, similar build, but at the same time, he was different. There was an air of seriousness about him that Jack had never had—when he walked into a room, people immediately knew who was in charge, importance seemed to emanate from him like an aura of light. He didn't smile as much, and he could almost always be found in a business suit. Work, work, work, that was his motto, and he'd learned it from Lureen when he was in school. He'd had trouble with his studies as a child, had always had bad grades, had tried, but just couldn't seem to pull it together. Lureen used to pound the idea of work into his head.

"You'll never get anywhere in life if ya don't work hard for it. Ya can't let yerself slip into a state a' mind that says, 'I can't', because ya can if ya try hard enough."

It had been sound advice, but somewhere along the way, she'd given the kid a complex. He'd worked his ass off through junior high and high school, somehow graduating with a 3.2 overall GPA. It wasn't until the summer before he went to Texas A&M University, that they'd discovered the whole time Bobby'd been in school he'd been suffering from a learning disability called Dysgraphia, which meant he had trouble reading and comprehending things he'd learned. The doctor's were amazed that Bobby had gotten as far as he had, that it showed an amazing amount of determination and struggle. Lureen had never been more proud.

Jack sighed. When Bobby was real young, he used to tell Jack he wanted to be a bull rider just like his dad. Jack always got a huge kick out of that, thought it was sweet that his boy looked up to him. But then there was L.D., telling Bobby every day how bull riding wouldn't get him anywhere except penniless and busted up so bad that not even the national guard would take him, and he'd end up living off some poor unsuspecting girl he'd marry and make her miserable all the rest of her days. The whole while big necked L.D. would have his steely glare turned towards Jack, judgment and despise deep in his meaty face.

And now here he was, his grown son, a younger version of himself in looks and looks only, standing across the room, separated by the dying girl lying in the hospital bed. Bobby flashed his blue eyes in his direction, perhaps waiting for something else from Jack, but Jack had nothing to say.

Bobby put his hand on Marla's head, ran his fingers through her hair.

"How 'bout you go on home and get some rest."

Marla startled out of her daze. "What? No, I'm okay."

"No you're not. Go on. I'll be here, and so'll Jack. Just go home fer a couple hours and sleep."

"But what'll she do when she wakes up and sees I'm not here?"

"Honey, right now she's not gonna know the difference if you're here or not. She's in and out all the time. Go on. You don't wanna get sick yerself, now do ya?"

Marla looked over at Jack with pleading eyes. He gave her a little nod.

"Go home, Marla. We'll be here. Bobby'll call if anythin' major happens."

She stared at him, face blank for a few minutes, then bent over and picked up her purse, slung it over her left shoulder. She stood slowly, turned towards her husband.

"All right. I'm goin'. But you better call me, okay?" She prodded Bobby in the chest with her pointer finger. "I'll have my phone on."

"Will do."

She turned to leave, but Bobby stopped her, grabbed her arm and turned her back towards him.

"Come here." He whispered and kissed Marla proper on the mouth. She snaked her free arm up around Bobby's neck and returned the kiss with all her effort.

Jack smiled at the sight, happy to see these two able to comfort each other in their trouble, looking out for each other. Jack couldn't have been more pleased that his son found happiness so easily, and that despite all the trouble in his own marriage Bobby had still somehow been able to learn to love and be affectionate.

The two separated and Marla left, giving Jack a smile before she went out the door. Jack smiled back and then watched as Bobby sat down in the chair Marla had been using. The two men were silent.

The heart monitor blipped, the overhead halogen light buzzed, the game show playing on the T.V. in the next bed booed and applauded. Jack fiddled with the buttons on his coat some more. Bobby tapped the toe of his boot on the smudged tile floor. Outside the door, quiet voices discussed, carts squeaked and clacked, elevators opened and closed. The world spun on.

"Yer mom was here a little while ago."

"I know." Bobby didn't look at Jack, his gaze strong as steel on Eliza.

Jack moved his tongue over his teeth, made clicking noises with his mouth.

"She goin' out ta dinner tonight? I mean, that's what she said…"

"Yeah with a couple a' the McGuire people."

"What're they doin'?"

Bobby looked up. "Is this what you really wanna talk about?"

Jack shut his mouth, surprised at Bobby's tone. "I'm jest talking. That's what I do; I make conversation with people so there aren't awkward silences."

"Well I'd prefer the silence, thank ya very much."

Bobby reached out and grabbed his daughter's hand. Jack sighed and leaned back in his chair. He felt a little annoyed, but he mentally lowered his voice before he spoke, so as not to rile Bobby up anymore than he already was.

"Why d'ya sound angry at me? Is this 'bout me bein' off on a campin' trip? Cuz that seems ta be the grand offense a' the day."

"I don't give a shit where ya were. It doesn't matter."

"Well than what's wrong?"

Bobby pulled his hand away from Eliza's and sat on the edge of his chair, adjusted his pant legs, then folded his hands and turned his attention full to his dad.

"This has nothin' ta do with you. I've been upset since this happened, my tone sounds the same with everyone so don't take offense that I'm bein' particularly short with ya. Just let me be with my daughter, okay?"

Jack saw that his son's face was just as tired as Marla's and he was starting to show some age around his eyes and mouth. He was in his thirties, and certainly, Jack didn't consider that old, but Bobby was no longer the bright-faced young thing he once was.

Jack nodded. "All right. I'll leave ya be fer a while. I'm gonna go have a smoke."

"Thought you quit."

Jack chuckled, realizing his slip but not really caring.

"Well…once a smoker always a smoker, I guess."

Bobby shrugged and turned back to Eliza, lost in his own thoughts. Jack stood, feeling the soreness in his hip and knee, and made his way towards the door. He took one more look at Bobby and then left him alone.

Jack tossed his cigarette onto the ground and smothered it with the toe of his boot. The tidal wave of exhaustion that had been threatening him for the past 24 hours was getting closer and closer to crashing down and swallowing him whole.

His thoughts returned to Ennis as usual. He gave a quick look around, saw that not too many people were out and so pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket, stared at it long and hard.

"I could jest give him a little 'how ya doin' curtesy call…I'm sure that would be okay…'less he ain't home."

Jack looked around again. He was definitely alone. He walked a little distance to a wooden bench, sat down, and lit another cigarette. He looked at the keypad of his phone.

"Sure would love ta hear his voice, though…"

Jack took in a deep breath and dialed: 1-307-857-4286. The phone rang once…twice…three times…

"Come on Ennis, answer the fuckin' phone…"

Then the familiar sound of Ennis' voice and the answering machine message Jack had heard only a few times.

"This is Ennis Del Mar. I'm not home. Leave a message after the beep."

"Damnit!"

He sighed. "Hey Ennis, it's…Jack. Jest callin' ta say—"

"Hello?"

Jack stopped, not sure of what just happened. "Hello…?"

"Jack?"

Jack's heart starting racing. "Ennis? Were you screenin' yer calls?"

"I was sleepin' on the couch and the phone woke me, wasn't gonna get up n' answer it. Then I heard yer voice…well, I ran in here…"

Jack laughed at the image of Ennis jumping off the couch at the sound of his voice to answer his call. He smiled and took a drag of his smoke. Ennis continued.

"I used ta jest unplug my phone cuz I don't like gettin' too many calls here, but Junior started gettin' mad at me 'bout it…"

"So that explains why it was disconnected the first time I called. Go figure."

"And then I didn't want ta be cut off since you were gonna be down there..."

Jack smiled. "You been worried 'bout me, Del Mar?"

Ennis blew out a big breath of air. "That's puttin' it lightly."

They were both silent.

"So how you been down there? How's yer granddaughter?"

Jack put his head in his hand. "Ya know, I'm not too sure. Her fever hasn't broke; the doctors've done everythin' they can fer now. We just have ta wait and see how things turn out. I'll tell ya, the whole situation is a big fuckin' mess. Lureen is, hell I don't know what's wrong with her. She's got a whole bunch a' problems and then some, several a' them cuz a' me."

Jack blew out smoke through his nose. "Then there's Marla who's beside herself, and I can't blame her. And now Bobby's here, and he's treatin' me like I'm the worst fuckin' father in all the land. Damn. I dunno what ta do. I've only been here fer, what, eight hours?"

"Sounds pretty bad."

"Yeah it is…"

There was another moment of silence. Jack took another puff.

"I'm outside the hospital, givin' Bobby room and smokin' a cigarette fer my nerves, but none a that's helpin'."

He paused. "But damn, it sure is good ta hear yer voice."

Ennis was silent. "Yeah." He voice barely above a whisper.

"I sure do miss you. I've been thinkin' 'bout you practically the whole time I been here, feelin' like a shit fer it, cuz I should be thinkin' 'bout Eliza. Does no good though."

Silence. Jack wasn't surprised.

"You don't have ta say nothin'. I jest wanted ta let you know I miss ya, and wanted ta hear the sound a' yer voice. That's all."

Ennis cleared his throat. "Thanks fer the call."

"No problem."

"All right. Well, I guess I'll let you go."

Jack nodded, threw his cigarette on the ground. "Yeah, okay."

"Talk to ya soon, Jack."

"Wait, wait! Ennis, I jest remembered I had ta tell you somethin'."

"Okay…"

Jack took in a deep breath. He'd nearly forgotten. He'd been meaning to tell Ennis this, but hadn't had the chance, had figured he could get it in somewhere during their week together, but since that was cut drastically short…well…

"You remember how you said to keep up the hope I had fer me n' you bein' together?"

There was a pause. "Yeah…but Jack, 'fore you go any further…"

"Ennis listen ta me. Jest listen. I know yer 'not sure', n' all that shit, but jest listen ta what I got ta say. I jest wanna put the idea out there, okay?"

Silence.

"Ennis?"

"I'm waitin'."

"Okay. So I been thinkin' up ways that this could work out. You remember when I told you how I was jest stoppin' through Riverton cuz I was checkin' up on my parent's land? Up in Lightening Flat?"

"Yeah…"

"Well I didn't entirely make that up. Last I heard the land was sold again to the state and they were lookin' ta make it into a horse and cattle ranch, like it used ta be. I was thinkin' 'bout maybe buyin' it back from the state and, you know, seein' what I could do with it…what maybe we could do with it…"

Jack waited for some response. He got none.

"I jest wanted to put that out there, fer you ta think on. I don't know when I'll be able ta get back up there or when it could actually happen…so jest think on it."

"All right."

"I'll talk ta ya soon, Ennis."

He'd pulled the phone from his ear, was about to hang up but Ennis' voice yellin' out the speaker, stopped him.

"Jack?"

He brought the phone back to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"You take care a' yerself, okay? Take care a' that shirt too, so you can give it back to me, you hear?"

"I hear ya." He heard him loud and clear.

"Okay. Be careful."

"See ya."

"Bye."

Jack hung up the phone, feeling better than he had since he'd left. Talking to Ennis did wonders for him. How he loved that man.

Jack stood and slipped his phone back in his pocket. He closed his eyes for a second, the exhaustion still weighing down on him, but then began to teeter and opened them quickly, catching himself against a cement pillar. Taking a nap would be too much of a tease for his state, and he didn't dare go home and sleep, so instead he just yawned and then headed back upstairs to the sixth floor.

He didn't have a problem getting back to the room, the young nurse that had been stationed at the front desk of the Intensive Care Unit was gone, presumably off duty or at lunch, and Jack figured it was just as well.

He got back to the room—611 A with its Ansel Adams print—and went inside. Bobby's position had barely changed. He sat in Marla's chair, close to Eliza, hand holding hers. His eyes were closed. Jack figured he was asleep so he made as little noise as possible when he went to sit down. But as he actually put his butt in the seat, the chair moved backwards and made a loud squeak against the tile floor. Bobby jolted awake, looked over at Jack. Jack made an apologetic smile and mentally kicked himself in the ass.

"Jack, you klutz! The poor boy's exhausted; probably hasn't been sleepin' at all, and right when he dozes off you go and show off yer grace n' charm! Good goin'."

"You back already?"

Jack settled down into his chair as gently as he could, fearful of making more noise even though Bobby was awake.

"Yep. Been gone fer a while actually…guess you fell asleep."

"Well can ya blame me?" Bobby snapped. He turned his eyes away.

"No." Jack looked down. The hostility was coming off Bobby in waves, and Jack decided he had to know why. He scooted to the edge of his chair, preparing himself for confrontation.

"Bobby, tell me what's goin' on here. Talk ta me."

Bobby shook his head. "I can't talk to you 'bout this. You can't understand."

Jack frowned. "Now why on earth wouldn't I understand? I'm a parent, aren't I? She's my granddaughter; you're my son…now come on. Talk ta me. I'm here; I'm listening."

Bobby was silent for a few minutes, frowning and running his thumb back and forth over Eliza's knuckles. Jack waited. For a few minutes he didn't think Bobby would say anything, but then he spoke softly, never tearing his eyes away from his daughters hand.

"It's my fault."

"What?" Jack leaned forward, thought he'd heard wrong.

"It's my fault because I was never there. I wasn't there when she needed me."

Jack's stomach dropped to the floor. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

"Don't blame yerself, come on…"

This was too much. How many times had Jack told himself exactly that? He'd never even thought that Bobby would be feeling the same sort of guilt, that he would be blaming himself for Eliza's state.

Bobby wiped his lips with the back of his free hand, like he was trying to get some bad taste out of his mouth.

"If I hadn't been so preoccupied with work, and with the stupid McGuire merger then I could've spent more time at home, I would have noticed when Eliza started gettin' sick, we could've stopped it before it got so bad…we…"

Bobby's breathing became labored. He was obviously fighting back tears, didn't want them to fall in front of his dad. Jack just remained silent; he wanted Bobby to get this out of his system since surely he hadn't told Marla or Lureen about it. Surely Jack wasn't his first choice to confide in, but he was the only one there was.

Bobby cleared his throat, tilted his head back, trying to keep the tears from leaking down his cheeks. After a second he was back under control and he put his head down. When he spoke his voice was deep and quiet.

"I didn't wanna be the father that's never there. I wanted ta be different."

Jack took in a breath. The father that's never there… Was that what he was for Bobby? He couldn't believe it. And he couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"I was there. I was always there. You never came to me, though, always went ta yer mama or L.D." Jack paused for a moment. "I wanted ta be there fer ya…"

"What're you talkin' about? I always wanted you there. I always wanted ta come to you but I thought you didn't want me to, felt like you didn't want me."

Bobby shook his head and stood, sitting too much for him at the moment. He paced slowly back and forth beside the bed. Jack followed Bobby with his eyes, not believing what he was hearing.

"What? That don't make any kind a' sense. I thought you hated me."

Bobby stopped in his tracks. "I worshipped you! You were my dad, the bull rider, the cowboy! How could I not have?"

Jack stood. "Bobby…"

"Sit down, please, yer makin' me nervous!"

Jack hesitated then obeyed.

"I wanted ta be jest like you, always knew all that stuff L.D. fed me was a bunch a' shit. But then you were never there. I mean, it's not like ya traveled all the time or anything, you were home, but you weren't there, ya know? Sometime's you'd go a whole day never sayin' a word ta me, like you were ignorin' me or something."

Bobby stopped pacing and sat back down. He sat on the edge of his seat, foot tapping, nerves obviously running wild.

"I felt like you never wanted me. So eventually I did hate you. I hated you fer not lovin' me, when I'd loved you more n' anything..."

Bobby returned his hand to Eliza's and was silent once again. Jack, for the second time that day, was absolutely speechless.

"All these things you never saw…all these things you were too blind ta see cuz you were unhappy…"

How could Jack have been so wrong? How could he have misunderstood his son, so much?

"Seems like my whole fuckin' life has jest been a big disaster. Feels like I hurt everyone I should a' been protectin'."

Jack took in a deep breath. He stood and grabbed his hat off the bed.

"Bobby, I dunno what ta say. I s'pose there's nothin' I can say that could make up fer all this, all these years…"

Bobby remained silent. Jack continued.

"I jest want you ta know, that I have always loved you, even if I never showed it the way I should've. You've turned out ta be a better, smarter, more successful man than I could've ever been, and ta top it all off you have a family that loves you and makes you happy."

Jack smiled, felt emotion build in his throat. "I am so proud a' you, son."

He looked down at his boots.

"And if you'd like me ta go, I will. I figure you don't want me here distractin' you…so…I can jest come back later."

Jack paused, waiting for Bobby to say something, but when no words came, he sighed and walked to the door.

"I guess it's too late to make amends…"

He stepped out the door.

"Wait…Dad."

Jack felt a tidal wave of relief wash over him and he smiled to himself. He turned back towards Bobby. His son still hadn't taken his eyes off his daughter, was still looking down at her small body. The heart monitor blipped.

"You don't have ta go. She's yer granddaughter like ya said. You've got a right ta be here with her."

Jack nodded and returned to his chair. He sat down.

"Thank you." He took his hat back off, laid it gently onto the foot of the bed.

Bobby looked at him, not quite smiling, but with a soft expression on his face.

"Yer welcome..."

The two men sat in comfortable silence, neither needing to talk, everything worth saying already said. They were able to keep each other company amid the frightening surroundings of sickness.

Two days later, just when hope was starting to slip down the drain, Eliza's fever slowly but surely started to decrease. It didn't break, and the doctor's said that it still could go up, so the worst wasn't necessarily over, but if it continued to lower, she would start to recover.

Relief washed over the Twist family. Marla swore that God had answered her prayers, and Jack, though not a religious man himself, had to wonder if that wasn't the truth. Everyone was in a lighter mood now. Jack had gotten more rest, and was ever starting to feel better about his situation with Ennis.

It was Thursday afternoon, which meant there was the weekly staff meeting to attend at Newsome Farm Equipment, so Jack said he'd stay with Eliza while Bobby and Lureen went in to the office. So for the majority of the day, it was just Marla and Jack in the hospital room. Marla had brought some knitting, was making a winter scarf for Eliza, and Jack was playing solitaire on the side of the hospital bed. Eliza was asleep.

Marla set down her needles and looked up at Jack.

"She's asleep."

Jack was focused on where he could put the black eight that he'd dealt.

"Yep."

Marla leaned forward in her seat.

"Jack, can I ask you a favor?"

He finally looked up. "Sure, what ever you want."

Marla smiled. "Well, we've really been fallin' behind in the grocery shoppin'. I need ta buy some fresh vegetables and fruit…"

She repositioned herself in her chair. "Would you mind stayin' here with Eliza while I go out and do a little bit a' shoppin'? I'll be back in maybe an hour and I'll have my cell phone on the whole time."

Jack smiled. He found it endearing that Marla had to ask him to stay with Eliza, like it was some chore, like it was a big imposition that she had to go grocery shopping.

"You go right ahead. Take as long as you want, I got no where else to be anyway."

Marla smiled and collected her knitting supplies, stuffed them in her bag.

"I won't be but an hour. Thank ya so much, Jack."

"Now you act like this is a big favor. I'm here right now ain't I? I'm not goin' nowhere. Go on n' go. She'll be fine."

Marla stood and kissed Jack on the cheek before she left. Her face was no longer tired and pale. Some of her old familiar glow had returned and she didn't look half as helpless in her silly, oversized sweater. She left the room quickly, a flurry of yarn and bags and clinking needles.

Jack sighed and settled himself back to his game of solitaire.

"What're you doin'?"

Jack sat up, startled, and looked at Eliza. She's woken and was smiling softly at him, not being able to manage much more.

Jack, not being able to help himself, smiled back wide.

"Hey there, sweet thing. How you feelin'?"

She stuck her tongue out and made a sick face. "Pretty lousy…"

Jack scooted his chair closer to the girl, abandoning his cards at the foot of the bed.

"Feelin' lousy can be expected. You've been really sick. You jest need ta rest now so you can get better."

Eliza nodded her head and took in a shaky breath. She started coughing and grabbed at her throat, wincing at the pain. Jack picked up her water glass so she could take a sip. She did so gratefully and then sighed, relaxing back against the pillows.

"I'm so tired of coughing."

"I'm tired a' you coughin' too…we gotta do somethin' 'bout that."

Eliza smiled, didn't laugh though, it hurt her chest too much. It made him suddenly incredibly grateful he'd been able to spend so much time with her, that he'd been able to make her laugh so often. He'd taken her soft tinkling laughter for granted and now he'd give anything to get it back. But, her smile was the one of the sweetest things he'd ever seen and he thanked God that he at least got that.

Jack reached out a hand and brushed her dark bangs back from her forehead, at the same time feeling for a fever. She didn't feel too warm, but she was still slightly flushed, still warm. At least she was awake and aware of her surroundings. That was a major improvement.

She took in a steady breath and closed her eyes.

"I wanted to tell you…"

Jack leaned closer, not wanting her to strain her voice. "Yes?"

"I had a good time at Kelly Anne's birthday party. Even though they said that the water park probably made me sick, I still had a real good time."

Jack smiled. "I bet you did, honey. Did ya ride any scary slides?"

Eliza coughed a little again. "Yeah. I rode this big one called the Black Hole…it was real scary, but I didn't scream."

Jack grabbed her hand, squeezed it gently. She looked down at her blue hospital gown.

"I didn't think Kelly Anne's dad would be there, but he was."

Jack froze. Leroy. He'd almost forgotten about that sonofabitch during all the trouble at the hospital. His memory suddenly, unpleasantly came crashing back.

"He was." It wasn't a question. His thoughts were no longer on Eliza's time at the water park, they were busy trying to think of what to do, how to deal with Leroy, how to prevent anyone from getting hurt.

"You mean how to prevent yerself from gettin' killed."

Jack winced. That was a little harsh, but yes, deep down, that was something he'd been thinking about, and something he wanted to definitely try and avoid.

"Are you thinking 'bout her dad, 'bout what he called you?"

Jack looked back at his forgotten little girl, surprised by her words, though why he wasn't sure; she'd been the one who'd told him about Leroy in the first place. And thank God she had, the last thing he would have wanted was to be walking around oblivious, just inviting the tire irons. He couldn't tell her how much it troubled him.

"No honey. I don't need to worry 'bout all that, and neither do you. All you need ta think about it gettin' better, you hear?"

She smiled again, her big, bright beautiful smile. "Yes sir."

"All right. So long as you understand me."

Jack playfully ruffled her hair.

"Hey!"

"Hay is fer horses."

Despite her sickness, she was still able to roll her eyes and mime laughing.

"Very funny."

"I'm jest a funny sort a' guy."

"A real comedian."

"Yep."

Jack sat back in his chair. "How 'bout you rest yer eyes fer a while. Don't want you tirin' yerself out now."

Eliza obliged, obviously worn out from even the small amount of foolery. She closed her eyes and in a couple minutes was out cold.

Jack crossed his arms. He was glad she was asleep now; he needed time to think. He had to figure out what to do. He knew that he couldn't hide from Leroy the rest of his days, and he knew, unfortunately, that Leroy wouldn't be the only person that ever read the story. Anyway, if Jack actually went through with this "queer" thing, if he really made a go of his relationship with Ennis, then there would be a lot of people that would have a problem with them, and he would have to get used to being hassled.

So the question was, should he approach Leroy, or no?

Jack sighed. He figured the only thing to do was approach the man, cut it off at the butt, before it got any worse. He had to do it soon too.

He looked back at his sleeping girl.

"Can't do it right now, though. Have ta wait till later, when Marla get's back."

Jack settled himself down to a long day of sitting and waiting. He knew what he had to do now, but he was still nervous as hell.