"I like Uncle Jack," Jenny told Emmeline. Her doll didn't answer, but her daddy did.

"He ain't your uncle," Ennis said automatically.

"Can I call 'im uncle?" Jenny asked and Ennis turned to look at her. She was so small to look so serious. Racking his brain for the right words, Ennis put a hand on her curls. "Would it please ya?" he asked and waited for Jenny's nod. "All right then. Now go on t' bed." Jenny ran off, hugging Emmeline to her chest, and climbed the ladder to the loft. "You too, Junior," Ennis said. "I'll finish up them dishes." As Alma Junior went by with a dubious look up at him, he passed a hand over her hair. "I know I'm clumsy," he said. "I promise I won't break all the dishes."

"Good," she said. "Cause them come all the way from Wyomin' with us and we cain't git no more like that."

Ennis nodded as though she were twenty years older and sent her off to bed. Methodically, he scoured the iron pans and hung them on nails before wiping his hands and walking out into the cool of night. He saw the coal of a cheroot glow orange near the door of the barn where Jack had taken to sleeping. Following the mellow scent of tobacco, he crossed the yard.

"Ya ought a be sleepin' in the house," he said by way of greeting.

"I'm more comf'table out here," Jack answered. "Like a smoke?"

Ennis took the hand-roll that Jack lit from the end of his and drew smoke into his lungs. "Catch your death when the weather turns cold," he said.

"Doubt I'll be around that long."

Ennis took another drag. "Why's that?"

"Why you care?"

"Sure enough. Got used t' the help, is all."

"Don't drown in your tears," Jack said, as he pinched out his smoke and tucked it into his breast pocket. "See ya in the mornin'."

Ennis stood there, undecided, until Jack entered the barn, and then went after him. Jack turned, his shirt half off and his pants unbuttoned, as Ennis came up behind him. Ennis averted his eyes, but it was too late. By the buttery light of the lantern, he'd seen what he had seen: Jack's erect cock curving up proud, framed by his shirttails. A need so strong it cramped his gut seized Ennis, shamed him, sent him across the floor to Jack. Jack let the shirt fall to the ground as he opened his arms. Never lifting his gaze above toe level, Ennis stopped in front of Jack and waited like a penitent for sentence to be handed down. Hardly daring to believe this was happening, Jack touched the other man's cheek, whispering words as meaningless and soothing as running water. Ennis let himself be drawn in, rested his head on Jack's shoulder, and all the tears he hadn't cried since Alma's death burst forth in a torrent. Jack murmured in his ear, stroking the ringlets at his nape, rocking him gently as he wept, and as his grief abated, the rhythmic motion stirred other feelings. Jack shifted his weight, his arousal rolling over Ennis's thigh, and Ennis sucked in a harsh breath. With his heart in his mouth, Jack took Ennis's hand and put it on his cock.

"Whut're ya doin'?" Ennis asked in a tear-clogged voice.

"Nuthin' ya don't want to," Jack said, angling his head so his lips were a breath from Ennis's.

"This ain't right," Ennis mumbled.

"I know, but it feels mighty good right now don't it? Not so lonely?" Jack's hard length pulsed against Ennis's palm, and Ennis wrapped his fingers around the heat without thinking about it. "Lord have mercy, that feels just grand," Jack moaned.

"I don't…" Ennis began as Jack's lips, soft yet hard, coaxed his mouth to open and he tasted the sour-sweet snap of whiskey and an indefinable spice that tempted his tongue to go forth in search of more. Closing his eyes, he let Jack lower him to the straw and unbutton his trousers. Cool, clever fingers teased the head of his aching arousal, fluttered over his balls, dragged up and down the engorged vein on the underside, as he held tight to Jack. He hadn't been with anyone since Alma's death and their lovemaking had always been simple and brief. Ennis felt guilty even having the thought, but Alma had never satisfied him; though he came, he felt empty rather than fulfilled and figured there was something wrong with him. Well, now he knew what that something was.

Jack took Ennis in his mouth, and the other man sat up like he'd been struck by lightning. Pulling his cock from Jack's lips, Ennis shoved him down on all fours. Yanking Jack's pants down to his knees, Ennis pressed the spit-shiny head of his shaft against Jack's entrance. Jack pushed back and the knobbed end entered him. Overwhelmed by the sensation of tight heat that gripped him like a velvet vise, Ennis thrust. Jack lurched onto his elbows as Ennis grabbed his flanks, yanking his ass higher and driving the thick rod deeper. Jack grunted, pounding the dirt floor as Ennis drew back and thrust again. He didn't figure the farmer would last long, and reached under to stroke himself as he balanced on one arm. Ennis's abandoned thrusts dragged erratically over Jack's sweet spot, prodding him toward the edge in a haphazard way that was making him crazy. "Ride me," he gasped. "Ya know how t' ride, don't ya?"

Ennis leaned over Jack's back, taking a double handful of his shirt, and rocked into him. Guided by the sounds Jack made, Ennis shifted his weight until the other man moaned with mounting pleasure at each stroke. Jack bucked back against him, until their flesh came together with an audible slap, hell bent for leather and no turning back now. Jack reached for Ennis's hand and brought it down to his aching length. Ennis latched on, fingers laced with Jack's, as they shuttled up and down the rod of flesh. Jack's teeth sank into his bottom lip as he strained toward the prize he knew awaited him at the end of the race. The cord that tethered him snapped and he hurtled headlong into ecstasy heralded by a liquid streamer of cream. Ennis heard Jack's breath catch in his throat, felt the bone deep shudder than ran through the other man's body, and groaned as the clenching channel bore down on him. His knees betrayed him as his seed spooled out and he collapsed onto Jack. Both men went to the floor, lodging Ennis's twitching cock deeper in the silken sheath. In five minutes, he was fast asleep.

Jack lay there in the dirt and straw, content to bear Ennis's weight for as long as possible. His climax rang in his every cell, making him feel as though all was right with the world for as long as he remained still. Of all the lovers he'd had, from lonely shepherds to high dollar whores, not one had ever moved him like the simple touch of Del Mar's breath on his skin. He waited until Ennis softened before rolling to the side, pulling one of Ennis's arms around him. Whatever happened when they woke up, Jack knew he would never trade the memory of this night for gold or his life. And wasn't that a bitch of a unsatisfactory situation.

::: : :::

Ennis woke with his pants down and his arm around the drifter. Scooting away like a man too close to a fire, he yanked his trousers up and went to the door of the barn. A creaking noise warned him before he looked outside and saw Junior at the pump. He waited for her to go back in the house before he went out, easing the door closed behind him. A vivid image of himself astride Jack flashed in his mind like heat lightning and he doubled over until a wave of light-headedness passed. He was going to hell for sure now.

"You sleep outside last night, Daddy?" Junior asked as soon as he came in.

"Lulu seemed a mite colicky," Ennis lied. "Cain't afford t' lose the only mule we got."

"Coffee's ready," she said. "Is Uncle Jack comin'?"

"He's tendin' to Lulu. We got any sugar left?"

Distracted, Junior found the scant supply of sugar and brought her daddy a cup of coffee and a piece of cornbread. She crumbled some more cornbread in milk and set the tin cup in front of her little sister. After transferring the pot of beans that had been soaking all night to the hook over the fire, she sat to eat her own breakfast. She was half way through when she realized Jack hadn't come in yet. "Reckon we should call Uncle Jack?" she asked. "Or maybe I should take him his coffee."

Ennis nodded. "Be sure and holler out," he said. "Give 'im some warnin' 'fore ya bust in."

A few minutes later, Junior returned. "He ain't there," she said. "And Fancy's gone too. Ya reckon he went after the doc, or somethin'?"

"I don't know," Ennis answered, caught between relief and disappointment. "Reckon we'll find out when he gits back."

"Lulu looks fine," Junior said as she wiped Jenny's nose on the corner of her apron.

"That's good," Ennis said, remembering in time that the mule was supposed to be sick. "Be needin' her soon. That hayburner a Jack's ain't good for nuthin' but a saddle. Reckon Fancy's a good name for that mare. Well, settin' 'round here ain't gittin' my work done." Ennis left to do the morning chores, finding them more tedious than usual. Junior glanced out the door every time she passed by, but the day went by without a glimpse of Jack. When the sun began to set, she left Jenny drawing on a board with a piece of charcoal and went to find her daddy. Ennis was adding to the system of irrigation trenches that would keep his crops from dying during the dry season, but when he saw Junior, he rested on his shovel and waited for her. He knew what she would ask, and he had no answer for her.

"All his belongin's are gone," Junior said, without preamble.

"I'm sorry, li'l darlin'," Ennis said, awkwardly patting her back. Junior threw her arms around his waist and hugged him fiercely. Putting a hand on her hair, he stood fast as she sobbed, letting her cry her fill.

"I wish he'd said good-bye." Junior pulled back and dragged a sleeve across her eyes. Ennis nodded, and walked home with her, an arm resting across her thin shoulders. He told himself that Jack was some kind of devil and he was glad to see the back of him, but it wasn't true. Though he couldn't express it in words, the last few weeks had been the best of his life, working side by side in companionable silence, hearing the laughter of his children again, and having someone to fall asleep next to. He shied away from thinking about last night, but his body held the memory of that perfect union and yearned to feel it again.

"Maybe he'll be back tomorrow," Junior said, though there was no hope in her voice. She had learned early that sometimes people left and they didn't come back.

Ennis squeezed her shoulders. "Maybe," he said. "Run on ahead and see to your sister." He got the animals bedded down and went on in the house to his dinner and his cold bed. Reminding himself that Jack was a drifter that showed up looking like he'd been beat on a horse that looked stolen, Ennis tried to dismiss him from his regard.

However, when he fell asleep, Jack was waiting in his dreams, and he woke with a sticky mess between his legs. Cleaning up with the bandana he'd never returned to Jack, Ennis slipped into his only remaining shirt, wondering what had become of the one he'd bled on. He'd just gotten outdoors to relieve himself when he heard hoof beats. The newly risen sun shone on the roof of the small carriage that belonged to the minister, and Ennis set himself to turn Reverend Malone away before the man started preaching at him. However, when the buggy stopped, it was LaShawn Malone that stepped down.

"Ennis Del Mar," she called out. "There you are. Randall says you refused to attend the meetin', but I don't believe he could a explained it right, or you'd would a said you'd come. So here I am to tell you why you ought a be there and to git a look at them purty little girls. Where are they? Inside? Alma Junior? Jenny? You girls in there?" LaShawn walked right past Ennis and into the cabin, talking the whole way, leaving him to follow or not as he chose.

Junior stood for LaShawn Malone's fussing for about ten minutes and then took Jenny outside with her to feed the stock. LaShawn helped herself to a seat, looking up at Ennis as she chattered away. "We need all the folks that have farms borderin' the Four Leaf spread to stand together 'cause none a us can stand up to him by ourselves. Now what we done is found someone to fight for us. We put some money together and hired us a gunfighter. Course we ain't got all the money yet, and that's why we need everybody."

"I ain't got nuthin' but this farm," Ennis said.

"It's all right," LaShawn leaned forward and patted Ennis's hand. "You ain't doin' so well just now, but you'll be doin' better some day soon. Meanwhile, Mr. Stoutamire and a couple others said they'd put in for you. All you got to do is come to the meetin' and show folks you're with us. The more that come, the more hope we got a stoppin' Newsome from takin' our land. Say you'll come, Ennis. You know Alma would a wanted it."

"Ain't no way to fight 'im."

"Well, you just think about it, Ennis Del Mar. Now let's talk about your girls. You need to bring 'em into town every now and again. I'd be glad to keep 'em while you do your marketin'. Girls need female company sometimes."

Ennis was about to tell her to mind her own business when Junior appeared in the doorway. "I'll think about it," he said. "Now I got chores to do."

"Ya ought a go to that meetin'," Junior said as LaShawn drove off.

"You reckon so, huh?" Ennis didn't say anything to her about the eavesdropping.

"Missus Malone might be twitter-pated, but she's right 'bout this. If ever'body stands up to Mr. Newsome, he'll have to stop bein' so bad."

"And whut a ya think a spendin' some time with Missus Malone learnin' t' be a lady?"

Junior made a face. "Do I have to, daddy?"

"If I go t' this meetin', ya ought a do somethin' for me."

Junior sighed and held out her hand. "Ya got a bargain," she said solemnly.

Ennis shook her hand, feeling like he was doing the right thing, but nervous nonetheless. He didn't like the talk of bringing in a hired gun, but he supposed it wouldn't hurt anything to go and listen to what the preacher and his neighbors had to say. And the girls would have a chance to be with people their own age. Like Jack had said: children needed more than full bellies and clothes on their backs. And once again, as he'd done a hundred times since the drifter had disappeared, Ennis had to banish Jack from his mind.

Read Chapter Three of Bailey's Boot Hill