A/N: Sorry again for the delay. Hope you all enjoy it! Thank you to everyone who has sent me reviews.

Disclaimer: I don't own Brokeback Mountain. All characters belong to Anne Proulx. I am not profiting off this story at all.

Italics indicates flashbacks

Chapter 9

"Bobby's Findings"

A small dust cloud danced above a blue and tan pickup that drove out of Jack's childhood home. Bobby Twist, now seventeen, was headed into town for the daily mail. He had been spending a few days in Lightning Flat trying to get his grandfather's old house back into shape. Jack's father decided to will the family farm to his only grandson due to knowing that his son, Jack, was gay. Bobby himself had not known. He pulled up in front of the parlor style postoffice, got out of his truck and proceeded into the main glass doors. As he did so, the rusty brown cow bell clanged against the metal frame.

"I'll be right there," shouted the postmaster from a far corner of the room.

"That's ok. I'm not in a big hurry," stated Bobby.

"That voice sounds familiar, is that Bobby Twist," asked the postmaster?

"Yes it is, how are you Ann?"

"I'm doing good. How much longer you going to be in Lightning Flat, Bobby," she asked curiously.

"Just today, then tomorrow I head back to Texas."

"When do you think you'll have that old place finished and move back here?"

"I'll probably be back permanently next month, the latest September." It's now May.

"It'll be good to have you back here."

"Thanks Ann," Bobby stated as he thought about this woman, and why she seemed so familiar.

Bobby left the post office and entered his truck. Before heading back to the ranch, he quickly thumbed through the mail. All old bills from his grandpa about the farm. He knew that these things would have to be dealt with soon or he could actually lose his future. The future he grew up to realize he'd always wanted . . . ranching. Bobby was more and more like his dad. The dad he had wondered about for so long. Bobby thought, 'Where is he and what's he doing?'

He drove out of town back toward the ranch along Wyoming State Route 295. As he drove along, Bobby glanced at the wide-open fields and the glistening streams around him. With the windows open, the sweet smell of the plains filled Bobby's senses. He loved this land and what it meant to him. Texas just didn't feel like this. There he felt more like an outsider. Slowly, he made his way to the old rutted out driveway and turned onto it. Again he bounced along until he stopped in front of the barn.

Bobby sat for a few minutes in his pick up looking around at the old farm. He surveyed what was left of this great place he remembered when he was a little boy.

It was the summer Bobby turned seven. He spent his school vacation on his grandpa's farm along with his dad. Learning the ropes about farming. Spending a lot of time with the tractors. Cutting hay and corn. Also, feeding all of the animals. Had one hell of a Fourth of July there. Meeting a lot of Grandma and Grandpa Twist's friends. One person, who helped Bobby learn to ride horses was Ann Bowling. She enjoyed little Bobby. Ann was a special woman, part of the town's church choir along with Grandma Twist. They spent a lot of time together that summer.

As a tear ran down his face, Bobby came back into the real world. He thought to himself, 'That's where I know Ann Bowling.' The loss of his grandparents was very hard for him. They were all really close, but now he had only one thing left. Finally it's starting to look like a new place. He removed the weeds that made this place look black eyes, and abandoned. The corrals were the only exterior projects that needed finishing. Cosmetically, the outside of the house wasn't too bad. Maybe a little fresh painted might help.

Bobby finally got out of his pick up and headed into the small structure. 'Lunch,' he thought as he placed the pile of mail on the kitchen table. He made himself a ham and cheese sandwich and got a pop from the small cooler next to the front door. Sitting silently in the living room, Bobby ate.

It was departure day at Armito Hospital. Ennis, Alma, Jr., and Francine were helping Jack down to the main lobby, then out to the truck. All the nurses that attended to Jack had already said goodbye as Ennis helped pack his things earlier. 'Finally', Jack thought, 'I'm outa here.' The doctor decided to release him along with a care package and some rules.

"Jack, here are some things for your recovery and some rules you'll need to follow. You know what they are, the only thing I want to add is no horseback riding for at least a month, all right." stated Dr. Smith, standing next to the truck's door while Ennis aided Jack into the passenger seat.

"Well doc, I'll do my best, it's going to be the busy season when I get home," replied Jack.

"Don't you worry, Jack, I'll find enough hands to cover spring calving," explained Ennis. "Besides, I'll have the girls stay a little longer. They can help out with moving the horses to the lower grazing pasture."

"Daddy, let's just get Jack home. We'll figure out all this later," exclaimed Alma, Jr.

"Yes, darlin'," replied Ennis while closing the passenger door with a hard slam. Francine was already sitting in the back seat behind where Ennis would be. She didn't like doctors much, hospitals either.

The ride home was pretty quiet. Jack fought back the urge to take Ennis's hand in his. Finally it was out in the open, except for everyone working at the ranch. He felt it was best left unsaid to them in order to stay alive. Every once in a while he'd glance over to Ennis. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the girls whispering among themselves. Jack looked back toward the road, cleared his throat, then made a quick head motion at Ennis like, 'Hey look back there would ya.' Ennis glanced in the rear view mirror to see what he girls were doing.

"I'll have a talk with them later, Jack. Don't you worry about them. They're just at that age where everything's a secret. It'll be all right," Ennis explained to Jack as he reached his hand out and quickly patted Jack's knee.

Bobby woke with the scorching sun's rays falling upon his face. Today was the day to close up the farm and head back to Childress, Texas, one last time. After this he'd be back in Lightning Flat for good. With that thought, Bobby smiled, eyes still shut. 'Finally,' he thought to himself. Bobby stretched a little to get his body energized and especially unkinked.

He found his way downstairs, started coffee and breakfast. Slowly he began to eat some over-easy eggs, sausage and toast in order to let the coffee finish brewing. Bobby enjoyed coffee emensly. The aroma began to fill the room. He got up, made his way to the counter and proceeded to pour himself a large cup of the brown, steaming liquid. He didn't like it black. It had to have some sugar and creme. Once done with his morning meal, Bobby strolled out onto the front porch to take in some of the cool, fresh air.

Finally, finishing his coffee, Bobby decided he should begin the dreaded task ahead of him. 'Well I better get off my ass,' he thought. He walked back into the house through the screened porch door and straight to the pot for a fill up. He leaned against the kitchen counter and thought aloud, "Where did grandpa stash those newspapers." He stood for a few minutes, then like a flip of a light switch, knew where to go. Nestled in the corner of Grandpa Twist's closet was the box. His grandpa had some private things he just had to hide and the closet was the place to do it.

Bobby came back and decided to start putting up newspapers on the windows. This would keep people from peering in. In addition, it would help protect them if there were any storms to arise. The living room was the largest, so that is where he began. Getting two windows complete, Bobby started on the third along the right side of the house. He tore off a piece of tape and held the paper against the large, single, pane window. All of a sudden, Bobby gasped! A headline in the paper caught his eye. It stated:

'Rancher taken to Armito Hospital after being severely beaten; gay hate crime suspected'

Bobby read through the article quickly, skimming it with his fingers. For some unknown reason he seemed to have a connection to it. It was like an attraction. He needed to read more. He searched for a name in the passage to see wether he knew who it was. 'No name,' Bobby thought. Frantically, he began thumbing through the newspapers in the box. As he went, he flung the ones that didn't mention the incident out upon the living room floor. Then, under five more papers, in bold letters, he read:

'Beaten Rancher identified'

He closed his eyes, held his breath for a second and then exhaled hard. Then as soon as he did so, Bobby quickly reopened his eyes and began slowly reading this new article. It was a small piece, nothing to elaborate. Halfway through the reading, he found it:

'Ranch owner Jack Twist . . .'

Bobby dropped the paper. He didn't even finish reading the article. All he thought was how could this be, not his dad. This news was difficult for him to take. It infuriated him tremendously. He kept thinking it had to be a mistake. Bobby, all of a sudden felt as though his stomach was turning inside out. The room began to spin. His head got a rushing feeling like he was going to pass out. Then from out of nowhere, he knew he had to make it, fast, to a bathroom. Without delay, his breakfast was up and out, twice.