Ennis took another drag of his cigarette and a sip of his coffee. The morning air was cool on his bare chest but there was a hint of dryness (similar to the dryness felt when close to the Colorado border) and he could tell that it was going to be ball sweatin' by 8:00.

It was early, the sun was only a few minutes over the horizon, and for the third night that week Ennis hadn't been able to sleep. Sure, he'd tried, tried like hell to just let himself slip into darkness, but every time he'd get close, his mind would turn to Jack and his eyes would spring open and he'd have to struggle to get back to that border point—over and over.

The call from Jack on Tuesday had done some good, let him get a few hours of sleep Tuesday night, but then Wednesday morning the same worries and fears had resurfaced—the same visions of tire irons held high in the air, ready to strike, to kill.

Ennis had decided that morning that staying home the rest of the week was a bad idea. Sure, the majority of him wanted to sit by the phone waiting for Jack to call, waiting for the sound of his voice and the reassurance that everything was okay. But Ennis had never been one to lazy around and do nothing—it made him feel uncomfortable. He'd had maybe two months of vacation his entire life, so bumming at home was foreign to Ennis (unless he counted the time he'd been unemployed and had had to stay with Junior, but even then he'd done things around her house, made himself busy). So Ennis had gotten dressed and driven to the Owl Creek ranch, gave Stoutamire an unexpected surprise, and fell back into the pace of his day-to-day life.

But every minute of the day had been plagued with thoughts of Jack. And the more he tried to escape them, the more they bothered him, nagging him, picking and scratching at his brain till it was almost painful. Ennis left at 7:30, two and a half hours later that what he usually put in, making it a fourteen-hour day. He didn't' mind. The longer he stayed at work, the longer he could put off going back to his house, the emptiness nearly thick as smoke.

He wasn't hungry that night, as usual, but he drank a beer to calm his nervous stomach and he nibbled on a few peanuts—the salt good with the Bud. He sat staring at the television screen, the show Survivor playing to a dead audience. After an hour he turned off the T.V. and checked the answering machine for the fifth time. Nothing. He went to bed. He didn't sleep.

And so here he was, Thursday morning, alone, exhausted, stomach still queasy, mind still troubled. He exhaled a lungful of smoke and then extinguished his cigarette in his full cup of coffee. He'd thought the coffee might feel good on his stomach, warm and comforting, but no such luck. The bitter taste only made him feel worse, the gag reflex working the back of his throat, leaving him with the constant urge to heave. Ennis leaned back, supporting his weight with his elbows on the rough concrete patio. He wouldn't give himself the satisfaction of puking, wouldn't give in to the weakness that threatened to consume him, because he knew there would be no hope after that.

This whole time he'd been fighting off his worries and his troubles and his feelings—denial, denial, denial (it had been a close friend for as long as he could remember).

Ennis looked out to the horizon; the sun had raised another few inches and soon it would be time for him to get his shit together and go back out to the ranch. The breeze blew again, and he was reminded of the fore coming heat. Most would be discouraged by the idea of working outdoors on a day like this, but Ennis only took it as a good sign—he couldn't be as miserable about Jack if he was miserable in general all day long.

He sat back up, tired of the cement making the skin on his arms raw, and lit another cigarette—his third for the morning. He snapped his lighter closed when he was done and tossed it in the grass at his feet, resting his arms on his knees, twirling the cigarette back and forth between the fingers of his right hand.

Ennis Del Mar had no real reason to be worried about Jack Twist.

First of all, just because he went back to Texas didn't mean he was going to get beat by some crazy redneck.

"Course it's a possibility…"

"Shut the hell up, Del Mar." He was talking to himself now.

The book was just fucking with him. There were a lot of similarities between it and his real life, and now it had him spooked. Especially since Jack had said that he thought someone knew about the book…knew about the book and had called him a 'faggot'. It seemed like too much. Too much to be a coincidence, surely, but at the same time, almost didn't seem real or possible. How closely could reality actually meet fiction? How could a stupid story follow his life? It just didn't make sense, and Ennis figured it never would. He'd decided it was no good to puzzle over it too much; it was a waste of thinking time, and Ennis had already covered every which way it could make sense hundreds of times.

He pushed the idea of Jack's death away—far away. That was something else that bothered him. Did he really have any right to worry about Jack Twist? He'd only known the man a couple months…he was acting like he'd known him his whole life. Jack was a man he'd met in a bar. Jack was someone he'd fucked a few times. Jack was apparently a queer man. Ennis was…

"A fuckin', lyin' sonofabitch, that's what you are. You always been this bad at acceptin' the truth?"

He sighed. He wasn't fooling himself. These were things he kept telling himself so he wouldn't be as lost, so he could try and avoid feeling like he'd recently had his left arm amputated and now desperately wanted it back, suddenly realizing all the things he'd needed it for and the simple comfort of having it there next to him.

Ennis cleared his throat. No matter how hard he tried to pretend, he couldn't reduce Jack to some guy, some fuck buddy that he'd known for a few weeks. Jack was…hell, Jack was everything. He wasn't sure how it'd happened, but in the matter of a few days, Jack had taken Ennis' boring, meaningless life and flipped it, spread it all over the place, shredded things that were in the way, and settled himself down to be a permanent resident. Jack was his friend, his buddy, his fucking heart. He'd shown Ennis this whole new way of life, a life that's full of laughing and warmth, and teamwork. He'd shown him there were always ways to make things work; Jack'd forced him to express himself when he would of just run and hid, pushed away all the bullshit, and told him to 'say it like it is', and somehow Ennis had been able to.

It was all crazy. He shook his head and chuckled, thinking about the funny way Jack had of saying things, or how he'd make a stupid face if Ennis ever started to brood—made his eyes all wide and raised his brows while puckering his lips like a fool (it never failed in bringing Ennis immediately out of his mood, even if he didn't always want to admit it). He loved Jack. He couldn't believe it, but he did. Ennis Del Mar loved another man, something he would have never thought possible in a million years. Yet somehow, it didn't seem that odd, felt natural. He'd always been taught that being queer was dirty and wrong, 'goin' against God' as his dad used to say, and maybe that wa true, but it couldn't have felt farther from the truth.

Ennis didn't love Jack like he loved a woman. It was different…felt better. It might have been because Jack could understand him in ways that a woman couldn't, hell, in ways no one could. Or maybe it was because they'd been friends first, honest to God friends. No man could ever really be "friends" with a woman. Guys might say it's possible, but all the while, they're imagining what it'd be like to get her into bed, or what she'd look like nude. Never worked. But Jack had been his friend. Closer than anyone…and that's how it felt. They were still friends, only…when Jack came close to him his stomach flopped and the back of his neck tingled. His dick hardened at the feel of Jack's breath on his neck, and he wanted nothing more than to see him helpless and pleasured by his hand, coming from his touch, moaning his name. Nothing more…

Ennis squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted Jack with him. Always? Ennis thought so... He hadn't been sure at first, even after actually saying the "three words", something he didn't even say to his daughters that often (he'd always felt like it'd never needed to be mentioned, always just been known). Even after that, he'd still been hesitant, just because that was in his nature. Ennis Del Mar was a worrier, a doubter, a pessimist, if you will. He always thought things through too much, often making people misunderstand, hurting them by his silence and hesitance. Ennis hadn't been oblivious the whole time up on Brokeback. He'd known they had to figure out what to do next, had known what he'd wanted, but hadn't actually had the balls to say it yet, to set it in stone. Hell, he still wasn't really sure…

And now he mentions this idea about Lightening Flat. Living together, making a life with Jack Twist, giving up everything he used to know, everything he was comfortable with. Okay, there wasn't much…but still, there was Junior. Ennis couldn't imagine what she'd think of all this, what she'd have to say to her daddy moving north, a day's worth of driving, to ranch up with a buddy? She wanted him to make friends, but really… Then there was Junior's baby. The paper work was almost finished, the mother almost to term, all they had left to do was wait. Alma and Curt; parents.

It was enough to return the warmth to Ennis' chest, to dull that constant ache. His girl was finally going to be a mother, and Ennis would have the grandchild he's always wanted—a little boy. Ennis had to wonder what he'd be like, what he'd look like. Well for one thing, he knew the boy would be loved, and most likely spoiled. Ennis chuckled. Did he want to leave the boy? It would be the second grandson he'd hardly ever see.

"Lightening Flat's different than California."

Which was true, but it might as well have been just as far with the amount of traveling Junior did. And she was guaranteed to do even less with a new baby. Ennis' thoughts turned to Texas.

"Why'd Jack have to go an' leave? He'd be here right now, and we could lay in bed, maybe go ridin' later."

Ennis hoped Jack's granddaughter was okay. He wasn't a praying man, but he'd offered up a few words, to God or whomever, that all was well with that little girl and that Jack would come back safely.

"Come back…you talk like this is his home…his life's down in Texas."

But the selfish side of Ennis wanted to think that Jack's life was in Wyoming now. He had no right to claim it, but he wished he was the most important thing to Jack.

"You know that little girl is, though. And do you blame him? You feel the same 'bout yer daughters."

True he did, but…it was different now. His daughters, specifically Junior, were the most important things in his life, but Jack was moving his way up there, elbowing into the mix, stirring it up like he'd done everything else.

Ennis extinguished his third cigarette with his thumb and forefinger, then tossed it into his cold coffee. He grabbed the cup and stood, judging it was close to six by the sun. He'd be late, but he didn't care, it was still his week off (technically) and he intended to work overtime again. He walked into the house, turning his back on the full sphere of the sun, and got dressed.

"Daddy?"

Ennis dismounted Jenny Wren and stood in front of his daughter. He wrapped the horse's reigns around his knuckles and wiped sweat from under the brim of his hat.

"Junior? What you doin' here?"

It was noon and Ennis had been about to take his lunch break; he was on his way to the stable to put Jenny Wren back in her stall, when he'd suddenly seen a familiar figure approaching, short auburn hair bouncing, yellow knee length skirt billowing in the breeze. Purple toe nail polish sticking out like gems against the dull surroundings of Owl Creek.

The sun made her hair shine; turned it nearly red. She brought one delicate hand t her forehead to shade her eyes, looked up at Ennis.

"Haven't heard from you in a while. Wasn't sure if you were back from yer trip or not. I figured I could find you here, if anywhere."

Ennis kicked some dirt with his boot. He'd gotten so caught up in his worries since he'd been back and then with working that he'd forgotten to tell Junior what was what.

"Why haven't you called?"

He couldn't her eyes from the shadows on her face, but by the way her hand was shaking he could tell she was upset. He sighed.

"I gotta put Jenny in her stall. Be back in a second."

Ennis walked towards the stable, his horse clip-clopping after him, braying when a fly buzzed around her muzzle.

He didn't want to avoid his daughter, but he was always bad in emotional situations. He knew that he'd hurt her, worried her, and he was sorry, but he didn't know how to deal with that. Ennis handed Jenny Wren's reigns to one of the younger stable boys, felt bad because he usually rubbed her down himself and fed her a carrot, but he didn't want to keep Junior waiting for too long. He gave the mare a little pat on the neck, told her she'd been real good, then headed back into the sun where Junior stood, still as a statue.

Ennis approached her with his head down, watching the small shadow his hat made at his boots. He stopped when he saw her sandals a couple feet in front of him.

"Been workin' long hours. Only been back a few days." His voice was low.

She took in a shuddered breath. "You still didn't have time to call and tell me you were back, just to say a few words?"

He looked up. "Well…you usually call me."

Junior clenched her jaw and swallowed, something she obviously hadn't picked up from her mother. Her tone though, was all Alma.

"So I always have to make the effort? I always have to be the one to come seek you out, to come visit you?"

Ennis ducked his head. "No…"

"Yes. That's how it is, and you know it."

"Come on, darlin'…"

She wiped her nose. "Well I'm glad to see you're not dead. Here." She held out a paper bag she'd neatly folded. Ennis looked at it hard.

"What is it?"

"I made you lunch, just on the off chance you were here."

He was touched. "Aw, Junior, you didn't have to go n' do that."

She looked down and shook her head. "I knew you wouldn't have anythin', you never take the time to make yourself somethin' healthy."

"You sound like Francine."

Junior chuckled. "Yeah, well, we're just lookin' out for you." She looked back up at him. "I gotta take care a' you, yer my daddy, and heaven knows you'd never eat a decent meal if it weren't for me. So just take it; it wasn't any trouble, just a sandwich and some fruit."

Ennis reached his hand out and carefully grabbed the sack from Junior's hand.

"Thanks." He mumbled.

"No problem." They were both silent for a few seconds. Ennis took off his gloves and stuffed them in his back pocket.

"You know, I'm not doin' much a' anythin' tonight. If you n' Curt aren't busy…maybe I could come by and say 'hello'". He looked over at his daughter hopefully, wanting to see the anger gone from her eyes.

She smiled softly. "You don't have to do it just to make me happy."

"Like ya said, I'm yer daddy…I want to."

She looked back up at him, squinty eyes from the sun and bright smile. She'd never looked more beautiful.

"I'll make dinner."

Ennis cleared his throat. "Now you don't have to go n' do nothin' fancy. But, uh…" He looked around as if someone would be eavesdropping. "If'n you got the right fixin's…I sure would love some a' them dumplin's you make."

Junior laughed out loud, a bright, crystal sound that brought a smile to Ennis' face, something he hadn't felt since Monday afternoon.

"All right. I'll see what I can do. Can you come over 'round six or so?"

"6:30?"

"Sounds like a date. I'll see ya tonight, Daddy." She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed Ennis' cheek, then rubbed the bit of lipstick she'd left off with her thumb. She smiled, and then with a whirl of soft hair and cotton skirt, she turned and bounded back to her car.

Alma Jr. looked just like a little girl as she walked away, could have been wearing pigtails and skipping down the street. Ennis felt his heart swell and he had to think again, how it would be to leave this wonderful girl—no, woman with her little boy on the way.

Ennis wiped his mouth with his napkin, set it down on the table, and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Darlin', that was amazin'. Best thing I've eaten in weeks."

Junior stood and started collecting the plates. She blushed.

"Thank you, Daddy." Junior had always been real coy about praise, never was one to seek it, and always got embarrassed even when it was rightly due. Ennis just smiled. Curt stood and helped collect the dishes; Ennis went outside for a smoke. All seemed well.

When Ennis had arrived that evening (6:30 on the dot—he didn't stay at the ranch as late this time) he was greeted with Junior's smiling face and the smell of cooking chicken. She'd given him a tight hug—a wonderful comfort—and invited him into the living room to have a beer. He wasn't very surprised when she told him they were having chicken dumplings like he'd asked, and for the first time in three days he felt his stomach start to rumble from hunger.

They'd eaten a wonderful meal: dumplings, Junior's famed mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and unbelievable chocolate cake to finish it all off. Ennis felt like he was going to explode…and he wouldn't of changed a thing.

Over dinner, Junior talked eagerly about the baby while Ennis and Curt smiled and nodded. Curt was amazingly excited about the baby as well, but like Ennis, he wasn't much of a talker. They both were happy just to watch Junior be happy.

After his smoke, Ennis came back inside and helped Junior with the rest of the dishes, which actually meant he felt bad for not helping so ended up putting the rinsed dishes in the dishwasher for her. When they finished, Junior took Ennis into the old "library" (basically where they put all their junk and a few books), which was going to be the new baby room. She had to show him all the new things she'd bought, and pointed out the cans of paint sitting around the room.

"We're gonna paint the walls yellow, and then Francine's coming in next

week—"

"Francine's comin' in next week?"

"Yep, she's bringin' Brandon. She's gonna be stayin' for a while to help out with the baby because I still have to work. Think she's gonna be livin' at Mama's for a while, but I heard she might be thinking of movin' back here. Not likin' California right now. Anyway, she's gonna paint the ceiling blue like the sky with white clouds." Junior looked up, as though picturing it.

"My baby's gonna fall asleep with visions a' heaven every night…isn't that wonderful?"

Ennis looked up too, trying to imagine what it would look like to have the sky inside the house. He couldn't.

"Sure is." He looked down at Junior, squeezed her shoulder. "Sure is, Darlin'."

Junior smiled. "And aren't you happy 'bout Brandon? Your gonna have both your grandkids here with you, how's that feel?"

Ennis cleared his throat, and swallowed hard. "Feels good." He tried to ignore that anxious feeling that was building in his chest, the feeling like he was trapped inside a wooden box. It was a horrible feeling to be having, especially in regards to his family, but he couldn't help it.

After a few more minutes in the baby room, Junior followed Ennis back outside for another smoke. She didn't have one of course; she's always thought smoking was a disgusting habit, and Ennis had to agree with her on that one. Didn't stop him though.

She rested her head in the palms of her hands.

"How was your trip to the mountains, Daddy? Did ya have a good time?"

Ennis took in a lungful of smoke, held it for a second then let it out.

"Yep. Had a real good time. Just what I needed."

Junior smiled. "Good." They didn't speak for a few mintues. She looked over at Ennis again.

"Did you go alone?"

He was silent. Junior waited for a response, and Ennis wasn't so sure he wanted to give one. He coughed, pulled his jacket a little closer to his chest.

"Uh, yeah. I went up there with my friend, Jack. Did a little fishin', a little drinkin'. You remember him?"

Junior's eyes lit up. "Course I remember him! I think he's just wonderful—so charming!" She smiled at some memory. Then her eyes returned to her dad.

"Last you told me, you'd had a fight. Did that work out?"

Ennis nodded and blew out more smoke. "We had a bit of a misunderstandin', but yeah, it worked itself out."

"So where's Jack now? Is he still here?" She looked around as if he would just pop out from the bushes yelling, 'Surprise!'

Ennis' eyes dropped to the ground. They were sitting in Junior's small back yard on some plastic lawn furniture she'd bought at Home Depot in Casper. He tilted his seat back slightly with his legs then let it land back to the grass with a soft thudding noise. Junior waited.

"He would a' been here. But, uh…he had to go back to Texas cuz he found out his granddaughter was in the hospital with pneumonia. She's a sick little girl, and I guess this is the worst it's ever been."

Junior gasped. "Oh no! Is she all right?"

Ennis shook his head. "Don't know. Last I talked to Jack, she wasn't doin' too well. Hopefully she'll make it through."

"How old is she?"

"Nine, I think."

Junior, sighed and put a hand over her heart. "That's just terrible. I can't imagine what that would be like…her poor parents. Poor Jack!"

Ennis swallowed again, feeling like he had too much saliva in his mouth. "I'm sure Jack'll be fine."

"I hope so. He seems like such a good man." She turned to Ennis, eyes still full of concern for the little girl she'd never met.

"I really like Jack. I just want you to know that. There was somethin' about him…" Junior looked off. "I can't put my finger on it, but there was somethin' just really appealing about him…"

She clucked her tongue and shook her head. "Bless his soul."

Ennis remained silent and tongue tied, not sure what had just happened.

"Have you called him?"

Ennis snapped out of his daze. "Uh, no. Not since he called on Tuesday."

Junior rolled her eyes. "There you go again. He can't hunt you down you know. There's give and take, even with fishin' and drinkin' buddies. You have to put some effort into it."

Ennis frowned. What was she on about? He'd put effort into it. He sent Jack a postcard after all…then again, why hadn't he called him?

"Call him when you get a chance."

"I will." Ennis was still caught up in his thoughts. He extinguished his smoke in the grass and then turned to his daughter.

"You ready to go inside?"

Junior smirked. "You gettin' cold?"

He harrumphed. "Hell no, but looks to me like you've been shiverin' over there for quite some time now. Come on."

He stood with Junior, put his arm around her shoulder. The two walked back into the warm house.

Ennis said goodbye to Junior and Curt around 10:00. He'd had a good stay. After him and Alma Jr. had come back inside, Curt joined them for a game of cards—Junior chose hearts, and it was fun, just the thing to take his mind of Jack.

Ennis had to wonder why he hadn't been coming over to their house more often.

"Good food, good company. What the fuck have I been doin' over at my place all alone? Shit, Ennis, you really are an idiot."

He just wasn't comfortable reaching out, had always kept to himself, and was used to the idea that if someone wanted to be with him or see him, they'd come a' callin'.

"Could get used ta this, though."

He dreaded going back to his lonely house. Whished he could of stayed with Junior, maybe slept on the couch or something, but how pathetic was that?

"I'm like a kid that's afraid a' the dark and wants to sleep in his parents bed…"

Certainly, he wasn't afraid of being lonely…but a little company (or even just the knowledge someone else was in the house) couldn't hurt. Nonetheless, Ennis hopped in his truck and drove the couple miles back to his little white house alone.

He pulled his old Chevrolet into the drive and parked it under the carport, climbed out slowly and begrudgingly trekked up his little walkway. When he got to his front door, he hesitated. He seriously didn't want to go inside and spend another night waiting and worrying and feeling sick. For a second, he considered going back to the truck and sleeping there, but he knew that wouldn't solve any of his problems, only guarantee a sore neck in the morning.

Ennis grunted and put the key in the lock, felt the deadbolt unlatch. He opened his door. Nothing, just as he'd expected. The lights were out, the room was cold, and it was dead silent. Great.

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped off the cap, using his shirt so he wouldn't hurt his hand, and took a long swig. He wiped some foam from his mouth with back of his hand and belched. His kitchen was bare and messy, not with cooking utensils though, just with junk that had started to collect on his table—mail, tools, dirty clothes, beer bottles. He felt like a pig.

"Not like there's anyone here to complain…"

He turned his attention to the phone hanging on the wall.

"Call him when you get a chance." Junior had said, smiling eyes and dark hair in the moonlight.

Call him. Call him. Call him. Ennis looked at the clock. It was 10:20, would be 11:20 down in Texas.

"Could be sleepin'. Wouldn't wanna wake him up…"

Ennis shrugged, promised he would definitely call him tomorrow to prove that he put effort into the relationship, and made his way back to the living room. He laid out on the couch and flipped on the T.V.—reruns of Full House played over and over and over. He fell asleep.

Early Friday morning, 1:30 am, 2:30 am Central time, Ennis got the phone call from Jack.