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Taking Chances, by E. L. Van Hine and L.H. Nicoll
MaineWriter:
More from 82:
They drove him in a thick silence, Ellery at the wheel. Finally, as he took the right turn off the county road, Ellery said, “You okay, Ennis?”
Ennis looked up. “No, not really.”
“Was that hard fer you?”
“Too many people. I guess I don’t like crowds.”
“That’s okay, it’s over now, sweetheart. An you can take off the stupid shoes till the next weddin.”
“Yeah. Still feel bad about Junior though.”
“So call her up an tell her so.”
“Nah, she wouldn’t want me ta make a fuss.”
“It ain’t makin a fuss, you had ta go earlier, now you got time.”
“Yeah maybe.”
“Besides,” Ellery said with a wink. “You get ta make me do anythin now.”
“Oh yeah.”
Ellery pulled the El Camino into the carport, opened his door, then paused. “So what’s it gonna be?”
“I dunno, I was thinkin maybe I could make you burn some biscuits,” Ennis said, his somber expression suddenly brightened with a sultry smile.
“That sounds nice. With or without the tuxedo?”
“Without. Or... maybe just the shirt an tie.” They got out of the car, tension rising in the air between them, and when Ellery stepped inside the door, Ennis seized him by the arms, pressing him against the wall and forcing an urgent kiss on his mouth.
“Jesus,” Ellery panted as Ennis finally let him up for air. “What brought that on?”
“Thinkin about what I coulda had if I hadn’t gone an got married in 63,” Ennis said, his voice breathless, sliding his hand down the front of Ellery’s tuxedo slacks and unbuckling the smooth leather belt, pulling it out of its loops as he unzipped him. “Now get out a those pants.”
MaineWriter:
Chapter 83:
Ellery sat up in the bed, aching to go to him, to comfort him, but he realized that Ennis did not want him hovering over him in the bathroom. He waited, the retching gradually stopped, and then Ennis turned on the water faucet and flushed the toilet. A few minutes later he came back in, face streaked with tears, eyes red-rimmed, and sat down heavily.
“Any better?” came Ellery’s soft question.
“Shouldn’t a gone ta that weddin,” Ennis replied, head bowed.
“You eat somethin bad?” Ellery asked.
Ennis looked up, smiling sadly. “Yeah, a piece a twenty year old weddin cake.”
“Aw, Ennis.” Ellery put his arm around Ennis’s shoulder, brushing his fingers along the line of damp curls. “I love you, ya know.”
“I know.”
“I was real happy you held my hand right there in the church.”
“I’m queer,” Ennis said. “An yer my man. An I am gettin damn sick a bein ashamed a that.” He looked back up again, almost as though it were an effort to hold his head up, and gave Ellery a fierce look. “I got married cause I was ashamed a what I did with Jack. I was ashamed a doin what I just done with you. I am sick a bein ashamed, Ellery. Sick a hidin, an sick a thinkin somebody’s gonna beat me ta death because ... because I love a man. This has got ta change.”
“It is changin, Ennis.”
Ennis put his hands on his each side of his head, and squeezed, his eyes wide open now, his expression angry, agitated. “I mean in here. In my head. I got ta make it stop – in here, where it’s drivin me crazy. I love you, an every time I think it or say it, somethin inside me says ‘you should be ashamed.’ An it ain’t right. I want it ta stop!”
“It will stop, Ennis. Today when you took my hand you took a step, an every step ya take will help it ta stop. I know it will. There ain’t no way out but through.”
Ennis sighed, letting his hands drop. “I can’t do this alone, Ellery.”
“You don’t have to, Ennis. I’m right here with ya.”
“Then hold me, darlin,” Ennis said, tears welling up once more.
Ellery slipped both arms around Ennis, and drew him gently down onto his back in a tight embrace, sliding smoothly on top, then nestled his face against Ennis’s damp neck, kissing gently along his neck and in the crook of his shoulder. Ennis lay passive, tears flowing, but he no longer sobbed.
“I don’t want ya ta be upset about this, Ellery,” Ennis began to speak after long minutes of silence, his voice cracking.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Ellery replied softly near Ennis’s ear. “Say what ya got ta say.”
“I still miss em. It still hurts like hell. An bein in that church... just reminded me a how stupid an scared I was then, how much I needed ta hide.”
“It’s okay, Ennis. Most people do.”
“Jack didn’t.”
“Then he was exceptional. It don’t make you bad,” Ellery replied.
“Still feels mighty bad.”
“Yeah it does.”
“Don’t let me go,” Ennis said once more, voice soft, plaintive, as if facing the late truth of his sexuality had somehow taxed him beyond his ability to go on.
“I won’t.”
MaineWriter:
Chapter 84:
“Well... no.” Wes paused to take a cigar out of his pocket and balanced it between his lips. “Hey, you want one a these?”
“Tryin ta cut down, encouragin Ennis.”
“Good boy. You have that talk?”
“Well kinda. I talked to em about doin a real ranch an he don’t seem interested. Said it’d be too much work.”
“Well it is a hell of a lot a work. An all I deal with is payin people for stuff. But you got somebody doin that for the Stallion don’t ya?”
“Yeah, Stew found me an accountant who takes the bank statements an writes out the paychecks an sends em.”
“An so why couldn’t ya have somebody look after the ranch business type work an Ennis could do the thing he wants ta do?”
“Lemme ask you somethin, Wes... what are you so keen on Ennis leavin your employment after you gave em such a big bonus an all that?”
“I ain’t. But considerin how Ennis is such a natural with horse trainin it just seems a waste fer him to just work as a ranch hand for me when you could set em up in his own ranch an he could do it for himself.”
“Wes... he don’t seem interested. He likes workin for you an Edna. Did that ever occur to you? The boy never had a momma or a daddy. That ring a bell ta you, like anybody we know? Goin down there an havin coffee an biscuits with Edna an workin your horses is almost like havin a real family an bein on a real ranch with people he knows an trusts. Now why would he want ta give that up, Wes? An why do you think he would?”
“He likes it because he don’t know what it’s like to be his own boss an run his own outfit.”
“Ya know Wes just because you like bein the cock a the walk don’t mean everybody does. An Ennis was pretty clear on that. I left the subject open in case he changes his mind later but he pretty much told me he’s happy the way things are... if we can get that vacation yer danglin in front a me.”
MaineWriter:
More from 84:
“You hear from yer girl?”
Dupree nodded. “Yeah... said she was sorry for bein so harsh.”
“Did she take back that comment about yer bein queer?”
He shook his head. “No, she’s got ta believe that for her feminine pride I think.”
“Listen, Dupree.... you ever see Ennis... down at the bar... lookin at men?”
“What do ya mean, lookin?”
“I mean, if some boy walks by with a nice set a hams ... does he look?”
“Ellery, you are presupposin that I am watchin Ennis while he is supposedly watchin these men.” Ellery grinned, and Dupree raised a hand, then continued. “Which presupposes that I am somehow interested enough in men ta be watchin Ennis.”
“Very good point Dupree.”
“Which means I ain’t gonna answer you on the grounds that it’ll get you ta start fixin me up with femmy young things with high voices from yer bar an I really do not need that to get over Tatiana.”
“Check and mate,” Ellery said. “An no I think since Wes wants me ta bring Reynolds along a bit I am gonna let em run with the Crane investigation. He went out with a dog an found what might be the murder weapon.”
Dupree looked disappointed. “All right, Chief.”
“You can be on the next one... with Joe. Because I am tryin ta wiggle out of the big stuff so I can take two weeks off an go up to the Tetons.”
“Vacation? That hardly seems like you, Ellery.”
“We need it. This last month has been a killer, an I don’t want things goin awry at home because a my job. I’ll quit before I’ll let that happen.”
Dupree looked stricken. “Don’t quit, Ellery. We need ya here.”
Ellery set down the muffin with a look of distaste. “That’s why I’m takin a vacation. You can finish that one for me, Dupree.”
MaineWriter:
A funny little interlude in Chapter 85:
Ellery left, drove to the the bakery where Joe made his daily stop, and strode in. He had been in there enough times to be recognizable to the owner, baker Helga Watters, but had been scarce since his promotion to Chief Deputy.
“Well well, Mr. Cantrell, I thought you had the other boys doin the pickin up muffins for you nowadays,” said the portly matron in a still noticeable Bavarian accent.
“Yeah, Joe picked up the wrong thing this mornin though, lemon an poppy seeds ain’t my style. You got any a those pumpkin muffins or blueberry maybe?”
“Blueberry we have all the time, pumpkin only on Wednesday.”
“Damn. Then give me half a dozen blueberry.”
“Don’t like the lemon or the poppy seeds?” She frowned, puzzled.
“Somethin about the two of em, I dunno,” he said. “I love all the rest of em though Helga. An the other boys like em just fine.”
She slid a box, carefully tied with string, over the top of the glass counter to him. “That’ll be no charge for you, Mr. Cantrell.”
Ellery grinned. “Thank you kindly,” he nodded graciously and tucked the box under his arm as he left, feeling Helga’s eyes on him as he went through the door.
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