Work Text:
Ennis thought it was going to be awkward. He'd worried himself so hard he'd lost weight, worked himself into chapped hands. The idea of his daughter coming here where he lived with Jack was bad enough, but bringing their men-folk mad him feel downright nauseous. He imagined a week of whispers ending as he or Jack walked into a room, even in their own home. And when Francie had added "some friends" to the list of guests, Ennis was sure he'd spend the week alienated and anxious.
He'd been pretty wrong. They made a picture, the four of them, two queer, two straight, standing there with their mouths agape while six girls made an old dilapidated barn into a "Vogue shoot", whatever that was. Junior was patient behind the camera. The cheerleaders kept putting on wilder and wilder outfits, making crazier and crazier poses, giggling and shrieking louder and louder.
"You know what they're doin'?" Ennis asked Scott.
"Uh, no sir."
"I think they're pretending to be in one of those fashion magazines." Kurt yawned and looked over at Ennis.
Kurt. Scott had always been quiet and kept his opinions to himself, but Kurt had a know-it-all streak. Ennis hadn't spent any time with his son-and-law, other than the wedding, until the whole group arrived in more vehicles than they'd needed yesterday afternoon. Kurt liked to tell people how things were. Junior listened with rapt attention. Ennis knew she wasn't that stupid, so she must just be that smitten. Lord knows he believed some pretty absurd things that'd come out of Jack Twist's mouth, just because it felt good to believe in his man.
He hadn't known how Kurt would react to his father-in-law and his father-in-law's partner. They hadn't interacted at the wedding. But, Kurt, having had a good time in New York City, had pumped Jack's hand long and appreciatively. Still, for all his ego, he was just a roughneck. He worked an oil rig. It was dangerous, dirty work. Ennis hoped Kurt was more careful around the machines than he was around people.
The four men watched for a while longer before Ennis huffed. "Well, there's work ta do."
Jack nodded and followed after.
Later that afternoon, the girls all put out old sheets on the lawn behind the house and had a picnic. Jack's mother served them some fried chicken and sun tea.
Scott, needing a break, it seemed, from the thing he was exposed to so damn often, caught Jack and Ennis out at the barn and asked about helping them out. They were glad for more hands, not that their hired hands were anything but good. One thing all the mess of the previous year had done was bind the ranch together, make one team out of people who hadn't hardly known each other. Scott looked proud to saddle up a fine black holsteiner named Terror and work out in the fields with Jack and Ennis, who already worked like a finely-oiled machine themselves, barely exchanging words to sort and doctor the cattle that needed it. Ennis was happy to be in the quiet, as much as he loved his girls. This was his place, and he knew it, working among cattle. It hadn't been Jack's job so much in recent years, but he'd make a good cowboy of that man yet. Ennis smiled to himself at the teasing he was giving Jack in his head.
Jack was watching him. "What?"
"Nothin."
"Nuh huh. You can wipe that stupid-ass shitty grin off your face."
Ennis shook his head and got back to work, not even wasting thought on how easily Jack read him. That's how things were.
"Nice place you've got here," Scott observed, watching a bird sail towards the sunset horizon.
"Yup," Ennis answered as he turned his horse towards home.