Ennis brushed shoulders with a swarthy man and automatically bowed up, ready to swing a fist or a boot, but the stocky Mexican kept walking, head down. Ennis let him go, willing his heart to a slower pace, as his heels clocked along the wooden sidewalk. He didn't want to get too riled up, not yet, but he realized he'd been simmering since he'd talked to Lureen.

Ennis hadn't ever meant to call Jack's wife, but Jack had looked so lost when he drove away. Ennis couldn't imagine how Jack felt, driving all that way, thinking the message about Ennis's divorce was a sort of signal, I'm free, Jack, come an get me, only to be turned away when he arrived busting with excitement. The more Ennis thought about it, the more he worried.

Finally, his unacknowledged anxiety drove him to ferret out the folded card Jack had given him. Jack Twist, Head Salesman. A day and a night number. Ennis dialed the first and got Lureen on the line. She informed him that Jack had planned on going on down to Mexico, if Ennis couldn't get away to go fishing.

"Jack fuckin' Twist," Ennis muttered.

A woman with skin like sun warmed honey and eyes as dark as the streets here in Nogales, stepped out of a doorway into Ennis's path. "Buenos noches, guapo," she purred.

"Evening, ma'am. 'Scuse me."

"I speak American," she said. "Twenty dollars, vaquero, and you have the best ride of your life. My room is right here."

"No thank you, ma'am." Again, Ennis tried to move around the whore.

"I no good enough for you, gringo?"

"You're good enough," Ennis said, casting a furtive glance at her lush curves. "I'm not out for pleasure this evenin'."

"That's too bad, guapo. We could have a good time together. Fifteen dollars."

"It ain't a matter of money. I'm lookin' for someone."

"We all looking for something," the whore said. "Maybe I help you?"

Ennis shook his head. "Don't believe we can help each other."

"Who you look for? I know lots of people."

Ennis lit a smoke and in the small flare of light he saw that the woman was several years older than she'd appeared in the shadows. The lines graven deep around her mouth and the corners of her eyes doubled her age. Feeling ten times as awkward as he had before, Ennis turned his face from her and looked down the street.

"Who you look for?" the prostitute insisted.

"Buddy a mine," Ennis said, sympathy for the woman forcing the words from him. "Tell you what; if you can tell me where to look for him, I'll give ya five dollars."

The woman's eyes lit like paper lanterns. "Don't worry, gringo. Milagra will help you find him. What does he look like, your friend?"

Ennis took a long pull on his cigarette as he tried to find words to describe Jack Twist. Best to just give the whore the information on Jack's drivers' license.

"He's a fella 'bout my height, not so much meat on his bones, dark hair, blue eyes. He's got a kinda swagger to him; he rodeos. Prob'ly wearin' a belt with a buckle bigger'n he is. Sorta crazy, he ain't all there sometimes, but when he laughs, he's brighter'n …"

"Senor Twist," Milagra said in delight.

Ennis's face didn't betray the shock and pain he felt at hearing Jack's name on this streetwalker's lips. Spoken with familiarity and warmth, as if Jack were a favorite relative that visited often. Well, if he had come down here to see if Jack was whorin' it up, he guessed he had his answer.

"Where can I find him?" Ennis asked, digging in his pocket for some money.

Milagra took the crumpled ones and tucked them away. "You won't find Senor Twist here, guapo. He comes to visit the other side of the street."

Ennis didn't like the sly sound of her laughter. "You know where he is, or not? If ya don't, I'll have my five dollars back."

"Oh, I know where he is, okay. Senor Twist always walks past the girls and smiles and says buenos tardes, bonitas, but he keeps walking, you know? He is no stopping here. If he want what I got, he can get it in Estados Unidos, no? You guapos don't come here for what you can get at home. You come here to do what you too ashamed to do with your …"

"Shut up," Ennis said. "You want to shut up, right now."

Catching a whiff of the familiar ozone and hot iron smell of impending violence, Milagra took a step away from this mild mannered gringo. "Okay. I tell you where to find Senor Jack, and you go away. Okay?"

Ennis stared at her, his eyes gleaming in the shadow of his hat brim like a Cro-Magnon peering from his cave.

"You go down the street," Milagra said quickly. "Where the lights end. You see some boys on the corner, si? There is a cantina, El Gallo. You go there; you find Senor Twist."

Ennis ground his cigarette butt with the toe of his boot and turned away from her. Without another word, he moved purposefully toward the dark end of the street.

:::::::::::::::::::

"Garcia, I swear, you are a card!"

"Gracias, Senor Twist."

Pretty Garcia lowered his eyelids and simpered in a broad parody of virgin bashfulness. The white peasant blouse and full skirt he wore, added to the pantomime. Blowing Jack a red kiss, Garcia collected the bills the man had thrown at him while he danced.

"You move like a widow-makin' bronc with a burr under his saddle, but you sure do bring a smile to my face," Jack laughed.

"Anytime you want to try and stay on me …" Garcia let his words trail off.

Jack shook his head. "You really are somethin', but you ain't my type, Garcia."

Jack's feet slipped from the table, as someone with some heft bumped his chair. Jack slid sideways, but a big hand grasped him by the biceps and halted his fall. With the ease of a man turning over his pillow, the stranger deposited Jack back in his seat.

"How 'bout me, pard?"

The bass rumble of the man's voice settled in Jack's groin, making his cock vibrate in sympathy. There was a no-shit alpha male standing at his shoulder, looming over him, and Jake's insides started to tremble. He didn't want to feel like this, at least not about anyone except Ennis, but Ennis had turned him away. And this time, he had yanked Jack's dreams out from under him for good.

Fuck it, Jack thought. What am I waiting around for? Ennis will never …

A heavy hand fell on Jack's shoulder, a dark eye cocked at his shiny belt buckle. "Hey there, rodeo. I asked you a question."

Jack tilted his head to look drunkenly up at the stranger. "I'm sorry, mister. What did you say? I've soaked up a little more bug juice than's good for me."

"Mind if I sit?"

"It's a free country," Jack said. "Least I think it is. Hey, Diego, hermano! Is Mexico a free country or not? I sure as shit couldn't tell ya right now. I have drunk enough a this cat piss to fill my boots."

The big man glanced at Jack's boots, back up on the table among the bottles and ashtrays.

"You got big feet, pard."

Jack's head rolled on his neck until he was looking at the stranger. "Reckon I do."

"True what they say?"

Jack's smile developed like a Polaroid. "I got no idea what you're talkin' about."

The stranger leaned closer. "Well they do say that a man's foot size is directly related to the size of his talleywhacker. You never heard that?"

"Don't guess I have. You havin' a drink, or just conductin' a survey?"

"I'm drinkin'. Saw your buckle. I used to rodeo a bit."

"You wrestle steers or somethin'?"

The big man laughed. "Reckon I could wrangle you," he said.

"Might not be as easy as ya think."

"Hell, you're so drunk, I bet you cain't find your bunk by yourself."

"You think I need help, do ya?"

And there it hung, like the rope that stretches singing with tension between a good cow horse and a dogie. It was a fine, ever-shifting balance; a little too much pull from one side or the other and it ended in a painful tumble and a cloud of dust. Jack fixed his impassive gaze on the man and waited.

Jack wasn't at all sure he wanted the handsome cowboy to take the bait. Well, that wasn't altogether true. Part of Jack wanted the big, weather-beaten man to follow him to a room out back and play eight seconds for as long as he could stand it. But a cold kernel of queasiness deep in his gut warned him off, and Jack's dick was over-ruled.

The muscular cowboy saw something change in Jack's big pretty eyes and he made his move before the prey could bolt. Jack found himself looking at the ceiling as his chair was tilted back, and then the stranger's face filled his view.

"Name's Matthew. You remember that, hear?"

"Nice to meet you, Matthew. I'm Jack …"

Matthew bent and claimed Jack's mouth in no uncertain manner. Off balance, Jack swung awkwardly at the other man. His fist smacked Matthew's shoulder and was ignored. Jack felt his lip split and had to swallow to keep his mouth from filling with blood. Sucking a desperate breath through his nose, Jack pushed at Matthew's shoulders.

Matthew pulled Jack closer with one massive arm as he snaked a hand down to grope Jack's crotch. "Thought so," he said. "You got a regular anaconda in your pants."

Jack struggled wildly as Matthew covered his lips again. Grasping the cowboy's broad shoulders, Jack shoved with all his strength. Matthew gripped Jack's testicles hard enough to make Jack freeze in fear the next squeeze.

"Good boy," Matthew said. "I'm gonna put my brand on you, maverick."

Garcia exchanged a look with Diego and decided to risk getting his head taken off. Maybe Senor Jack was just having fun with the stranger, but it wasn't like Senor Jack to do this in public, not even here at El Gallo. He always went to one of the rented rooms.

Before Garcia could take two steps, another gringo cut him off. The new gringo's face was clenched like a fist, his narrow gaze fixed on the grappling men. He grabbed a handful of the big stranger's hair, yanking him off Jack.

Jack hit the floor on his back as Matthew's nose exploded in a shower of blood and bone splinters. Ennis got a better hold of the big cowboy and brought his knee up into his face again. Slinging, Matthew away, Ennis got a boot in the man's ribs as he fell. Stunned by the attack and the pain of his broken nose and ribs, Matthew went to the floor. Ennis kicked him hard in the jaw, and he stopped moving.

"Might wanna call an ambulance for that man," Ennis said flatly as he grabbed hold of Jack's shirtfront.

"Ennis … Wait!" Jack gasped.

"Bullshit!" Ennis lashed out and tagged Jack high on his face, splitting the skin over his right cheekbone.

"Ennis, I didn't …"

Ennis flung Jack at the wall and pinned him there with a hand around Jack's throat. He could feel Jack's pulse hammering and feel each time Jack swallowed nervously. His eyes glowing like watch fires on a starless night, Ennis glared at Jack.

"Ennis … please," Jack wheezed.

Ennis's face was screwed up so tight; he could hardly force words past his lips. "What you gonna say to me, Jack Twist? Huh? What can you say?"

"I wasn't …"

"Hell you wasn't!"

Ennis's fist struck the wall to the side of Jack's head with enough force to crack the plaster. Jack tried to duck away, but Ennis held him fast, leaning in to pin Jack with his body. Tears welled up in Jack's eyes and began to run down his cheeks.

"Ennis … I swear …"

"They all know you here, boy. This ain't your first time."

"I paid for blow jobs, Ennis. That's all. That's all it ever was. I don't … I don't do … that with nobody but you."

Ennis's fist hit the wall again and dust flew into the air. "Don't lie to me, Jack Twist. I seen you. He was all over you and …"

Ennis's words ended in a choking sound, as if sharp pieces of his broken heart had lodged in his throat. His grip on Jack's neck relaxed and he doubled over as though he'd been kicked in the gut by a stroppy steer. Jack tried to steady Ennis, but Ennis knocked his hands away.

"Leave me be, damn you. I don't want your hands on me."

"Ennis, I'm sorry," Jack said as they both sank to their knees with the gravity of what had almost happened. "You hurt me so bad. I knew that I wasn't never gonna get to be with you. Your wife's gone and you still won't … " Jack's voice trailed off.

Ennis gingerly touched Jack's split lip. "I do that?"

"No." Jack pointed to his cheek. "You done that."

Ennis's face crumpled with the stress of riding herd on his emotions. Muttering, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, little darlin', didn't mean to hurt you, he clutched at Jack, crushing him in a fierce embrace. Jack returned the hug with equal force as his eyes met Ennis's.

"This is why, I reckon," Ennis said, banked fires smoldering in his dark eyes.

Jack nodded. "Come on," he invited.

Ennis let Jack pull him to his feet and lead him out the back door of the cantina. A row of small cabana style rotted quietly on the other side of the gravel lot. Boots crunching loudly, the two men hurried across the square.

"Damn, Ennis. You sure gave that ol' boy a tannin'."

"I don't think that's somethin' we wanna talk about," Ennis said.

"Well I think we might need to haven an understandin'," Jack said as they entered the room.

"My blood's already up, friend. Best tread softly."

"Or what?"

"That's it," Ennis flung his hat onto the bed. "You gonna get what you been askin' for all this time, boy."

As he had on that freezing, watershed night on Brokeback, Ennis pushed Jack to the floor and yanked his jeans down. Sucking two fingers into his mouth, Ennis wet them and pushed them into Jack. Jack inhaled sharply, but didn't resist the rough handling by word or deed. He braced himself on hands and knees, rocking forward and catching himself as Ennis entered him forcefully.

Hard and fast, Ennis put it to Jack and Jack matched him, stroke for stroke, pushing back powerfully, both coming quickly to the point of no return. The bucking stopped suddenly, Ennis's fingers sinking into Jack's flanks as he spent himself with a harsh exhalation of breath. Jack filled his fist as he collapsed onto his belly.

"How do you do this to me?" Ennis gasped.

"Same way you do it to me, I imagine."

Ennis rolled onto his side and cradled Jack to his chest. "Never again," he said. "You cain't do this no more, Jack. I don't ever want to feel like I did when I came through that door and saw you with that son of a bitch. I coulda killed you."

"I was turnin' him down when he decided no was not an answer he was willin' to take."

Ennis started to rise and go finish the job, but Jack wrapped his arms around him.

"I believe you already kicked his ass. Stay."

"You wanna get on the bed?"

"No. I like it that the floor's hard. Reminds me a sleepin' rough."

The corners of Ennis's mouth quirked upward in his cautious smile. "All you ever did was bitch about it when we was sleepin' rough."

And Jack knew another tear had been mended in the ephemeral fabric of the thing they didn't have a name for. It wasn't perfect anymore, hadn't been since the beginning. It was kinda like Eden that way. Once he and Ennis left the garden of Brokeback, they might as well have gone to Hell. All they had left of Paradise were moments like this.

Jack put his head on Ennis's shoulder and closed his eyes. Ennis drowsily tightened his arms around Jack and pressed his lips to Jack's forehead. It would never be enough, but it was all they had.

The End.