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Taking Chances, by E. L. Van Hine and L.H. Nicoll
Bigheart:
Happy New Year, Milli and everybody else! :-*
LOVE that pic, Kelly :)
Your banner is beautiful, Leslie :)
MaineWriter:
Good morning re-readers,
Today we have chapters 36 to 40:
http://louisev.livejournal.com/37564.html
from chp 36:
Ennis wrung his hands, then raised his eyes. They were still red rimmed from the weeping of the morning, but he still felt that inner peace, that rightness that comes from doing the right thing many years later. But Alma could see the sadness there, and she reached out a fluttering hand. Out of long habit, he did not pull away from it, the soft warmth of her hand somehow encouraging speech. “Done a lot a thinkin, Alma, after I moved outta Junior’s. She is a good girl, an she loves you dearly. She tol me then how mad she was at how unhappy I made you, all those years.... when I told her about Jack.”
Alma shook her head, denying. “Ennis I swear I never talked to her about that...”
“I know, but she ain’t a stupid girl, Alma. An you couldn’t be blamed fer bein upset an cryin about all those times I left you. An I got ta put it right. You know why things went so wrong for me a couple years back....”
She shook her head again, soft eyes growing moist with pity. “Ennis it wasn’t my concern but it pained me... wasn’t my place ta ask. I always cared fer you, you know that...”
“I know, I know.” He let her hand pat his, his wrist and lower arm, and forced himself not to pull away from that selflessness, that love which somehow, despite all he had done to her, would not die... if it made her feel better to comfort him, then he could endure it. “It’s because a Jack... he got killed sometime in the summer, down in Texas.”
She raised a fist to her mouth, and he could not tell if the pain in her eyes was because of the mention of Jack or because of her sympathy for his unknown loss. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry Ennis... I know you... “
“I cared fer em,” he said, skirting around. “That’s why things went so bad fer me. Didn’t think I could go on. An... now, his momma let me spread his ashes, an that’s what I was doin up north this week, an that is done. But I got a lot a regrets, Alma. A lot a regrets about you, an Junior is right. You done a lot a weepin cause a me and I never gave it a thought then, couldn’t give it a thought then. An that just wasn’t right.”
“Ennis –“ the choke in her voice made him feel a desperate urge to rise and bolt. He could never endure her tears, they made it seem as though she were about to break apart, and all his fault, always, his fault. “It’s gone by now. I got a new life, Bill’s been real good ta me, an Bill Jr is just a blessin. None a that coulda happened without the other.”
So why are you cryin? he wanted to shout in her face, and he prayed, silently, for her to stop before his own heart broke. “Alma...” his voice cracked, tears appearing at the edges of his eyes, and she stared.
“Ennis I ain’t never seen you cry before,” she said, forgetting her own easy tears, dabbing with the edge of the rag at her face, then reaching over and touching his with that soft hand, that seemed to have no animosity left toward him, no regret such as he held within him.
“Well I do sometimes,” he said, sniffling, raising a hand to bat hers away, but she had retreated.
“That’s good Ennis. Shows ya developed a human side. You don’t need ta feel no regrets fer me, I got a nice family now, an my children an my husband all love me. It’s you you should be worryin over now Ennis. Yer work goin all right?”
L
MaineWriter:
Chapter 37:
“What you got that hanky in the wrong pocket for, dude, you got ta be kiddin me that your a bottom boy, Christ.”
“To each his own, friend,” Ellery smiled at him tightly. “An if you were about twenty years older an not wearin yer pants so damn tight I might change my preferences for ya, but I don’t fuck boys. Have a nice evenin y’all,” and turned back to pick up the shot of whiskey and water Ron laid out for him, catching the smirk. The blond trotted off, offended.
“You got a way, man,” Ron chuckled, showing the first sign of actual emotion since Ellery had first set eyes on him, then to his slight surprise, the bartender leaned over and said in a voice too soft for anyone else around to hear. “An I think yer a cop.”
Ellery smiled sweetly. “What gave it away?” He leaned back, trying to act unruffled.
“I been runnin a bar for a long time, an men who cruise look at asses, cocks and legs. An even the pretty ones here, you ain’t lookin at asses or cocks or legs, not even the ones wearin their pants too damn tight. You sound like yer on the Safety patrol. And no way that hanky’s been out of the package for more’n a week."
Ellery laughed. “You ought ta be a detective, Ron.”
“I woulda been, cept the good ol boys don’t like our kind protectin an servin. So I’m right ain’t I?”
Ellery nodded. “Yep.”
“Yer lookin for someone. Since I been here the last ten years why don’t ya tell me who yer lookin for?”
“You got someone else workin this bar? I’d rather not go into such detail where little pitchers are hangin out.”
L
MaineWriter:
Chapter 38:
I got ta get home. Need that boy now.
Now, after this second trip to Brokeback, he had come to realize that his sexual memories of Jack were now irretrievably mixed with his fresher memories of Ellery. How many times had they done it, in the six weeks of their whirlwind passion? As many times as he and Jack on Brokeback in 63? Probably not. Then, they had embraced one another in an agony of need, uninterrupted, long days and cold nights, spending fewer and fewer of them apart, sometimes, never even dressing, hands on each other, stroking one another to orgasm when they were too drunk or sleepy to fuck... yet the new memories continued to blend into one erotic whole that, whenever his mind touched it, never failed to stiffen his spine and make his cock harden with the anticipation of pleasure.
He slept until the sky began to lighten, had greasy eggs at a truck stop before turning off the 287 and heading east. Back to Laramie. Back home. As he approached he felt that rise of tension he had felt when meeting Jack at their trailhead rendezvous, thinking more than half of the time about how the sex would be, how Jack’s lips would feel when he finally claimed them, the rough familiarty of Jack’s hands as they snaked down the back of his denims and squeezed his ass... Jesus Jack... and now, he was in this same fever of anticipation. It takes goin away to appreciate the comin back. He had had too much going away, not enough coming back.
L
MaineWriter:
Chapter 39:
He drove over to the Lone Star just as they were setting up tables and stocking the bar, and he rang the service bell. Sam, the cook, answered. “Ron around Sam?”
He cocked his head and stepped aside. “He know what this is about?” Ellery nodded and stepped in ahead of him. Just in case, he had dressed in his bar costume, lizardskin boots flashing like dull neon in the afternoon light. I am a sight. Ennis is going to flip when he sees this shit, he thought, and then decided he would fly home dressed this way, just to see the look on Ennis’s face.
“Hey ya Ron, yer Wyomin hot shot is here,” Sam said, lifting an eyebrow at the view of the boots as Ellery slipped onto a stool at the bar to wait, smiling slightly at the moniker.
L
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