"Do you have any earthly idea how good-lookin' you are, Jack Twist?"

"No, Randall, I surely don't," Jack answered.

"You make my pecker stand up and salute every time you smile. I ain't never seen eyes as big and blue as yours. Eyelashes like girl."

Jack lay still and let Randall get his fill of cuddling and pillow talk. He craved it as much as the other man; he just wanted it from someone else. No matter how good to him Randall was, no matter how many ways Randall told him how special he was, no matter how many times Randall made him come, Randall would never be Ennis Del Mar.

Randall, of course, knew nothing about Ennis Del Mar. He knew that Jack had a secret, a big one, but he thought it was the same one he was keeping. In a vague way, Randall knew that he didn't satisfy Jack, but he didn't let it come to the forefront of his mind. He told himself that what he had was pretty good: a foreman's position that let him set his own schedule, this handsome ex-rodeo rider to warm his bed, and a cute as a button little wife to allay suspicion.

Jack moved restlessly when Randall's beard brushed his cheek, and reached for the pack of Lucky Strikes in his shirt pocket on the floor. Randall got there first, anticipating Jack's needs in that uncanny way he had. Lighting two cigarettes, Randall put one between Jack's lips and watched him smoke with renewed excitement.

Jack felt the proof of Randall's interest against his thigh and crushed out the butt. "Appears you're not done yet," he grinned.

"I could swing ya 'round one more time, if you've a mind," Randall said.

The sex was good, always, eventually. Randall was considerate; he took his time, and he loved every square inch of Jack, still it was never enough for Jack. Randall even grabbed his ankles from time to time and took it in the rear for Jack, but it made no difference. He was the wrong shape to fill the hole in Jack Twist's heart.

On the other hand, Randall was here, warm and alive, filling the bed and Jack with his vibrant, alpha maleness. He was available for social occasions with his twitter-pated wife that drove Lureen crazy, two for the price of one. And he constantly spoke of his desire to leave his present life and start another one with Jack.

Tempting. The comfort was so tempting. Randall was a big, strong man and he was willing to hold Jack for as long as Jack could stand it. Randall was an ocean of affection that poured over Jack at each opportunity. It would be so easy to let go and drown in Randall's need for him. The foreman was so obviously proud of his catch. It was flattering.

But Jack didn't love Randall, and he likely never would. Jack was haunted and could not exorcise the specter of perfect love that had touched him once on Brokeback Mountain. No, he would never be able to banish it completely, but maybe he could consign it to the attic, put it away with those sad, soiled shirts hanging in his closet at the home place.

And this was the first giant step away from the jagged wreck he'd made of his life, the fragmented existence that was all Ennis would allow him. Though Jack would always love Ennis with a love so profound it mystified him, he couldn't live that way any longer.

November came, and Jack did not meet Ennis as planned. Instead, he took this three-day weekend in Dallas with Randall.

"How'd you find this place?" Jack asked as he rose and padded naked toward the bathroom.

Randall sat up against the headboard for the pure pleasure of watching Jack in motion. Even though he was moving into middle age and had a slight paunch, Jack was still as fine a sight as a yearling colt.

"One a my old professors told me about it," Randall said. "We can have a nice dinner, even dance if we've a mind, and nobody will even look at us funny."

"How come?"

"I told you, Jack. Everybody there will be like us."

Jake frowned as he rinsed his mouth and spit in the sink. A roomful of guys like them: didn't that beat all? Times sure had changed since nineteen sixty-three. Jack wasn't at all sure he was comfortable with the whole set up, but there was only one way to find out.

After cleaning up, Jack and Randall got dressed and went down to the restaurant. It was large with a band on the stage behind the glossy dance floor. As Randall had advertised, there were men dining together, dancing together and in the darker corners, doing who knows what together.

"Would you like me to order?" Randall asked as they were seated.

Jack gave Randall a droll look and shrugged. "Knock yourself out."

Randall conversed with the waiter and a short time later, two bourbon and waters arrived. After tossing back the drinks, Randall asked Jack if he'd like to dance.

"Truth is I would like to dance," Jack said. "But I feel a mite foolish."

"No need. Nobody here's gonna laugh."

"I might," Jack said as he stood up.

Randall held out his arms and Jack came into them gingerly. To Jack's surprise, Randall displayed all of the control on the dance floor that he lacked in bed. So Lureen was wrong about that one: you couldn't always tell from how they danced, if they were good in the saddle. Ennis couldn't dance a step, but he sure knew how to ride.

The song ended and another couple stopped beside them, asked if they wanted to change partners. Jack was offended by the very suggestion, but Randall seemed to think it was perfectly all right. Attuned to Jack's feelings, the foreman refused politely and they stood talking in the interval before the band began another tune.

Jack found nothing to say to the two strangers that had never traveled far from Dallas, but one of them was a fraternity brother of Randall's that remembered his name from his football days. They passed a few remarks on the prowess of the Aggie team before Randall noticed Jack's distinct lack of interest. Making an excuse, Randall led the way to the table.

"Would it have hurt to be polite?" Randall asked as they resumed their seats.

"Don't know; never tried it," Jack answered as he drained his glass.

Randall pursed his lips. "You could've at least smiled."

"Guess I could've, but I got no interest in talkin' 'bout clothes, Neiman Marcus, or the Black and White Ball, whatever that is."

"You could learn about it."

"Whyever would I do that?"

"Suppose we moved to Dallas?"

Jack laughed, but sobered quickly when he saw Randall was dead serious. "The city? Naw, not me. I gotta have mountains and open range. I cain't live here. We can visit, sure, a couple, three times a year, but live here? No way."

"And that's final, is it?"

"I'm sorry, Randall, but yeah, it's final. It's not for me."

"Then I guess it's not for me either," Randall sighed.

"Come on, cowboy," Jack said. "Let's eat our steaks and go back up to the room."

After paying the bill they went upstairs, neither speaking. Randall closed the door and came up behind Jack. Jack stood at ease as the other man stripped him of his jacket and pulled his shirt down his shoulders. Randall pressed against him, nuzzling Jack's neck, running his hands down Jack's chest.

Jack was suddenly cold as Randall's solid bulk was abruptly gone. Stumbling backward, Jack caught his balance and turned. He saw Randall on the expensive carpet with Ennis Del Mar waling the tar out of him. Anxious to prevent a fatality, Jack jumped into the fray.

Lucky for Randall. The foreman was big and brawny, but he lacked Ennis's experience and drive. The only thing that stopped Ennis from putting Randall in an early grave was his fear of hurting Jack. When Jack moved between the other two men, Ennis stayed his hand.

"God damn it!" Jack shouted. "What in the hell is the matter with you, boy?"

Ennis rose and faced Jack, their noses nearly touching as heat lightning flashed in their eyes. "I find ya here. Like this. And you wanna know what's the matter?"

"Hell, Ennis, what do you care? As long as you can meet me once a year in the armpit a nowhere and bang my dumb ass hard enough to carry ya through to the next time. That's all ya care about, ain't it? Well settle down, friend. Ain't like I can wear it out."

Ennis slapped Jack hard. Jack's head rocked on his neck and he took an involuntary half step back. The red imprint of Ennis's palm stood out on Jack's pale cheek as he fixed his gaze on Ennis again.

"You wanna hit me? Well go on and git it outta your system. Reckon that temper a yours is what sent Alma packin', didn't it?"

"You shut up about my wife," Ennis roared.

"She ain't your wife no more," Jack shouted. "She quit you. Like I'm tryin' to."

Ennis trembled, his face as hard and blank as the granite of Brokeback and Jack was afraid of what he might do, but if the things he'd said at their last meeting needed to be said again, Jack Twist would say them. Randall moaned at their feet, but he stayed where he was when Ennis nudged him with his boot.

"I seen ya down there," Ennis ground out. "Actin' the fool, but I give ya the benefit a the doubt, followed ya up here, and damned if you wasn't gonna do it with this …"

Words failed Ennis, as they so often did, and he simply stared at Jack, his dark eyes filled with wounded reproach.

"I told you, Ennis. I need more and you cain't give it to me. It ain't your fault; it's just the way things are."

"You'd leave me?"

"Already have. Cain't you git that through your thick skull? I'm with Randall."

Ennis shook his head. "Naw. That ain't right. You're mine, Jack Fuckin' Twist and I ain't lettin' you go."

Ennis grasped Jack by the upper arms and shoved him back against the wall by the door.

"You stop that right now, Ennis Del Mar," Jack said.

Anything further was muffled against Ennis's lips as he took Jack's mouth frenziedly. Jack drew back, licking blood from a split lip, and pushed at Ennis's chest.

"I said stop, damn it! I know what you're doin'. You'll get me all hot and I'll forget about how lonely I am without you. It ain't gonna work this time. You're good with your pecker, and I surely do love the way you do me, but it ain't the be all end all a everything."

"Jack," Ennis said, his voice as frayed as his shirt cuffs. "Don't."

He lifted a hand to Jack's burning cheek in apology and Jack allowed the touch. His control as ragged as a hangnail, Ennis ran his thumb across Jack's upper lip. He wanted to ask Jack if he sucked Randall's dick with that sweet mouth, but he let it be. Whatever Jack may or may not have done, Ennis had driven him to it through neglect and deprivation.

"Jack, I swear … I'm sorry. I didn't know how much you …"

"Love you?" Jack finished for him.

Ennis nodded.

"I always have," Jack said softly. "Since the second I saw you leaning up against that asshole Aguirre's office. I wanted you so bad … God, I remember the ache I'd get in my gut just watchin' you eat your supper. Thought I'd never find the right excuse to cozy up to you, but when I did, boy, did you ever teach me a lesson about pullin' a tiger's tail."

Ennis's lips twitched as though he suppressed a smile. "Reckon you ruined me for anybody else," he said.

Jack shook his head. "You are a mess, Ennis Del Mar. Shouldn't be let out on your own."

"Need a keeper," Ennis agreed. "I'm takin' applications."

"Don't you fool with me," Jack warned.

"I ain't. Swear to God, Jack, when I saw that big cuss with his hands all over you, I near 'bout died on the spot. It come to me then how much ya mean to me, Jack. I never wanna let ya outta my sight again."

"I may be nine kinds a fool, but I'm gonna take ya back."

Randall groaned.

"Hush up," Jack said, kicking the foreman in the ribs as he stepped over him. "Just what is your master plan?" he asked Ennis.

"Oh, uh, I hadn't give it much thought. You got any idea what we should do?"

"First thing is you goin' up to Lightnin' Flats with me to meet my folks. If ya like the looks a the place, maybe we can make a go of it. I know my mama would be happy to have us around for a while. Sound good?"

Ennis shrugged. "Whatever ya want, Jack. I just want ya to be happy."

"And what about you? What do you want?"

Ennis let his gaze rest on Jack as a smile slowly transformed the harsh topography of his face like the sun breaking through the clouds. "I can see everything I want," Ennis said as he embraced Jack. "And I can put both arms around all of it."

"I'm sorry I cheated on ya," Jack said.

"It's all right, little darlin'," Ennis murmured. "But if it should happen again, I'll kill ya."

"Fair enough," Jack said. "You ready to take me home?"

"Jack," Randall said weakly, dragging himself up to his knees.

"Oh, sorry, Randall," Jack said. "I'll send someone up to look after you. You and me wasn't goin' to work out no way. You knew that, didn't ya?

Randall glanced at Ennis's scowl and quickly away. "I love you, Jack," he said. "I'd take real good care a you, you know that."

"It ain't enough, never would be," Jack said. "I'm sorry, but I love Ennis Del Mar and that's the end of it."

"It just might be," Randall said, standing. "You're careless, Jack."

"You don't worry about Jack no more," Ennis said flatly. "I'll look after him from here on out."

"Sure enough," Randall said, rubbing his jaw.

"Sorry, Randall," Jack said again. "Tell Lureen I'll call her, okay?"

Randall gazed at Jack Twist, blue eyes incandescent with some ineffable emotion, sweetly curved mouth in a white half moon of a crazy happy grin. Never had he seen Jack like this, not even in the throes of orgasm. Jack's joy was so great his skin could barely contain it.

Accepting that this was what Jack wanted, Randall turned his eyes to the man standing beside him. So this was him: the desperado that had stolen Jack's heart and held it for ransom all these years. This was the phantom lover that had stood between Randall and Jack from the day they met.

Randall didn't like the situation even a little bit, but he was an educated man and he could see that he had already lost. That race had been run a long time ago. There was only one thing he could say at this point and he said it with conviction, to Del Mar's face.

"You best take good care of Jack."

"That ain't none a your business," Ennis bristled, and Jack took his arm.

Ennis let Jack pull him out the door and Randall watched them go. The foreman had looked into Del Mar's eyes and seen an abiding dedication he could scarcely comprehend. Randall stopped doubting that the scruffy, down at the heels cowboy loved Jack and started to hope that things would be all right for the two of them.

One thing was sure; however it played out, it was going to be a source of gossip in this county for some time to come. Randall went to clean himself up, already chuckling at the imagined look on Lureen's face when he gave her Jack's message. Despite the loss of Jack, Randall smiled all the way back to Childress.

The End.