ENNIS
By Tom Forster

Chapter 5


When Billy awoke, Ennis already had the horses saddled and boiled a small pot of coffee.  Billy could see him standing at a distance on the edge of the ridge line, staring out at the horizon.  Billy hadn’t realized the night before they were on a precipice with a steep drop off to the canyon below.  He got up, unwrapped himself from his blankets, poured himself a cup of coffee and staggered up to where Ennis was standing.  The sun was just topping the hills far off to the east.  Billy came up behind Ennis sipping his coffee.

“You’ll warn me about a bunch of flea infested dogs but you don’t say a word about the fact I’m sleepin’ on the edge of a cliff.  What if I’d had to get up during the night to take a leak?”

Ennis continued looking out at the spectacular view.

“Well,— we’d ‘a picked you up on the way back to the ranch.”  He turned to face Billy with a grin on his face. “We’d better get goin,’ cowboy, we got us a lot of ground to cover today.”

They quickly packed up the campsite and dumped some dirt in the fire pit.  Billy wolfed down some jerky and stale bread, washing it down with the last of his coffee.

Their plan was to continue following the ridge so Billy could get a birds eye view of the canyon trails that were used to drive the cattle to the summer range.  Then they would descend into the valley and double back at the lower level to return to the ranch.  It was another beautiful Spring day and Ennis felt they’d be able to make it back by nightfall without any problem.  After another two hours along the ridge they reached the high camp and stopped to let the horses rest. There were still some patches of snow on the ground at this altitude.

Billy had already forgotten about the cold night he had and hopped off his horse to take off his heavy coat.  Ennis took the time to tell Billy about the Indians who used to live in these mountains and canyons.  Ennis didn’t care much for the ones that now lived on the reservation South of Riverton; too much drinking and brawling, but he’d heard lots of stories over the years about their ancestors; brave warriors who fought to the death to try to keep the land.

They descended onto the summer rangeland.  The winter snows had been heavy that year and Ennis was glad to see the grasses were already as high as his knees.  They stopped to eat some more jerky and bread and to let the horses graze on the tender shoots of grass.  They passed the canteen of water between them.  Then they started the journey back to the ranch, this time following the well trodden trail that a million head of cattle tramped over the past century.  The going was easy and they made good time.  Billy told Ennis about his brothers and all the trouble they’d gotten into over the years.  Ennis just listened.

They could hear the roar of the river long before they could see it. The heavy winter snow was melting off fast and the river was a raging torrent.  There was only one place they could cross it with the horses, and even that part was questionable.  Ennis decided to make a stop so they could work out a strategy for getting across.  Ennis could see the fear in Billy’s eyes, but to his credit the kid didn’t say anything.  They stood on some boulders looking out at the crossing point.

“If things was normal we’d just wade right in on the horses and get across fine without even gettin our balls wet, but we gotta’ take a different approach this time.”  Ennis took off his hat and was squinting as he looked out at the rushing water.  “Them horses has been across this spot a hundred times.  They can fend for themselves, but not with the two of us on their backs.  Can you swim?”

Billy looked at Ennis with eyes wide.

“Yes, sir, I can swim,— some…”

“Okay then, we’ll get over just fine.  We’ll have to leave some of our stuff here.  We’ll let the horses cross first, then we’ll tie up together with a twenty yard line.  I’ll cross while you steady me, then I’ll do the same for you.  You with me on this?”

Billy nodded his head.  There was really nothing else he could do.

They both took the packs off their horses and put them up under one of the big boulders.  They’d pick them up the next time they were up this way.  They left the horses saddled.  They led their horses as far upstream as they could before the riverbank got too narrow, then Ennis slapped his mare hard on her hindquarters and she plunged into the river.  Billy’s horse didn’t even need a slap, she was right in behind the other.  They watched the two horses make their way across.  Billy was relieved when they made it to the other side.  They’d both been carried a good fifty yards downstream.  Ennis looked at Billy as he tied the rope around his waist.

“It ain’t that it’s deep, buddy.  It’s ‘cause it’s runnin swift what makes it tough.”

Billy raised his arms over his head as Ennis tied the other end of the rope tightly around him.  Ennis had Billy take off his jacket to free up his arms then he knotted the rope and pulled it hard to make sure it was good and tight, it took Billy’s breath away for a minute.

“Sorry, buddy,— don’t wanna lose you, or you lose me.”  Ennis grinned and rubbed Billy’s head, tousling his red hair. “They say that gives good luck, don’t they?”

Ennis positioned Billy at the same place where they’d put the horses in.  He showed him how to leverage himself against a boulder to give more control, then he walked right on into the torrent.

Ennis was immediately washed off his feet and the rope pulled taut. Every time he’d fall, he’d scramble right back up, the water splashing up to his chest.  Billy braced himself against the rock to keep the rope tight so Ennis would have something to pull up on.  The river wasn’t as wide as Billy first thought; however, he was greatly relieved when Ennis splashed out of the water onto the rocky shore on the other side. What seemed like an hour was only five minutes.

Billy and Ennis stood on opposite sides of the river, the rope looked like a long umbilical cord connecting them.  Ennis ran upstream so he was positioned directly across from Billy.  Billy was scared.  He could feel his knees shaking, but it wasn’t from the chill in the air.  Ennis shouted something across to him, but Billy couldn’t make out what he was saying over the rushing water.  He figured Ennis was telling him to launch, so he walked over the rocks to the edge of the water, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then he took the plunge.

The shock of the frigid water would have been enough to knock him to his knees, but it was the blast of the raging river than took him down.  Billy grabbed the rope with both hands and pulled hard, trying to gain his footing.  Just when he thought he had it, he'd fall again and wash another ten yards downstream, his boots scraping the cobbles on the river bed.  Billy could feel Ennis pulling hard on the rope, but the water was splashing his face so much that he couldn’t see him on the other side.

It went on like this for a while, Billy would tug on the rope to get up only to be knocked down again.  He couldn’t tell if he was making any progress.  The next time he fell he tugged on the rope to gain footing only to find himself washing freely down the river. The rope had broken!  Billy panicked, he could feel the stones and rocks scraping his butt and back as he careened feet first with the cold water washing over him.  He thought, even if he could swim it wouldn’t have done him any good in this river.

The next thing he knew Ennis was pulling him onto the river bank. Ennis had run back into the river and grabbed Billy around the chest and dragged him the remaining five yards to the shore.  They both collapsed on the rocks, soaking wet and out of breath.  Billy was still shaking and felt like he was going to throw up, but the feeling subsided after a few minutes.

Ennis wasn’t much better.  When he saw the rope snap and Billy washed downstream his heart started pounding and he almost fell to his knees.  He ran as fast as he could downstream and jumped into the river at a point where he thought he’d be able intercept the young man.  When they got to shore Ennis was shaking even harder than Billy.

It took a good twenty minutes before either one of them could say anything.  Billy was still lying on his back on the rocks and he looked back at Ennis who was now sitting with his arms around his knees pulled up to his chest.

“Thank you Ennis, you saved my life, buddy.”

Ennis just nodded and lowered his head.  He still couldn’t speak.

Ennis finally got up off the rocks and stood a moment to get his land legs back.  He was upset with himself  he hadn't checked the rope properly before using it to help get them across the river.  He’d been using that rope for much too long.  It was chewed, nicked and burned in several places.  Any good rancher knows you’ve got to always have a tough, strong rope at the ready for whatever might come your way. It was just another example to Ennis of why he wasn't worthy of having a place of his own.  Yep, in his book, he would always be a hired hand and a poor one at that; but, what really bothered him was the fact Billy trusted him and he let him down.  Sure the kid seemed to be okay, except for some scrapes and bruises, but what about the next time?  Trust was really all there was between the men who work the back country, and if you don’t have another man's trust you might as well call it a day.

Ennis walked slowly up the shore to where the horses found some new growth to munch on.  He looked them over and walked them around a bit to make sure they weren’t injured during the crossing. Everything seemed fine.  Ennis pulled his hat out from under the saddle of his horse and tried to shape it back out, but it was no use.  He stuck it on his head and lowered the front of the brim over his eyes to hide his shame.  He wasn't gonna’ be able to look Billy in the eye for a while; not that he ever looked him in the eye anyway.

Ennis stood with the horses and looked back at Billy, still sitting on the rocks by the water.  He'd give the kid all the time he needed.  He watched Billy pull off his boots and dump out the water, then Billy took off his socks and wrung them out.  He put his boots back on and stuck the socks in his back pocket.  When Billy stood up, Ennis could tell he was hurting.  Billy hobbled around the rocks with his back stooped over, gingerly testing out his legs.  He looked up towards Ennis and stiffly made his way up the beach.  When he reached Ennis and the horses he was still bent over.

"My backside is real sore, Ennis.  You suppose I could ‘a broke some’um?  You see anything stickin’ out back there?"

Ennis walked around behind Billy, the back of his shirt and jeans were ripped and bloody.  He couldn't tell where it was coming from." You're kinda tore up back here buddy. Lemme’ see where you're bleedin’ from.  Take off yore’ shirt, unbuckle your britches and I’ll see if you're hurt too bad."

Billy unbuttoned his shirt, and Ennis carefully helped him take it off.  Then Billy unbuttoned the fly of his jeans and pulled his pants down to his knees and stood there, bent over, in his boxers.

Ennis looked at Billy's back, it was scraped up real bad and he had a couple of deep gashes, but no sign of broken bones.  The bleeding had stopped.  Ennis took off his own shirt and pulled his undershirt off over his head.  He told Billy to wait a minute.  He trotted back down to the river and rinsed out Billy's shirt and dipped his undershirt in the cold water.  He came back to where Billy was still standing like a statue.  Ennis carefully wiped the blood off Billy's back with the undershirt.  Billy winced when Ennis touched the wound on his lower back.  Ennis went back down to the river and washed out the under shirt and brought it back to Billy and tied it around his mid-section just in case the bleeding started up again.  Then he helped him slip back into his wet flannel shirt.  Ennis put his own shirt back on.

"I think you're gonna’ be okay, buddy.  You might have to get a couple ‘a stitches when we get back.  Try to stand straight, and I'll check your ribs."

Billy stood up straight and Ennis ran his hands carefully over Billy's chest and sides.  Billy let out a laugh.

"Sorry, Ennis,— I'm kinda ticklish."

Billy looked at Ennis with his big, boyish grin.  It made Ennis feel even worse Billy was being such a nice guy about it all.  Ennis helped Billy mount his horse, and he got on his own.  They looked back at the rushing river below them.

"Ennis, what was it you was shoutin’ over at me before I went into the water?"

Ennis had to think a minute.

“I was tryin to get you to take off your hat. You coulda left it with the packs."

Billy put his hand on top of his wet mop of hair.

"Shoot!"

They turned and prodded their horses back onto the trail.  It was well after noon, but Ennis felt they'd still make it back to the ranch before dark.  Billy took up where he left off before they’d crossed the river, talking a mile a minute about Texas, rodeo and the desert.  Ennis listened silently as they continued their journey through the ancient canyons, all the while thinking, any other man would have held this against him and would make darn sure the other guys knew about a mess up like this; something that could cost a man his life.  Nope, Ennis knew Billy didn't have a mean bone in his body.

The rest of the journey was uneventful.  They stopped one more time in a flower filled meadow to let the horses rest.  The snow capped peaks to the north were piercing the deep blue sky.  Billy stayed up on his horse, soaking in the warm sun and the scenery.  Ennis dismounted and slowly walked a circle around them with his hands in his pockets, mangled hat on his head, looking down at the ground.  Neither of them spoke.

Three hours later they reached the ranch shortly before dark.  Ennis helped Billy off his horse and followed him into the bunkhouse.  Billy was feeling better and was moving more like himself, but Ennis wanted to get the wound on Billy's back checked out.

Billy began stripping off his shirt.  Ennis stood by the bunkhouse door.

"I'll go over to the house and call into Riverton to see if Doc Adams will let us come by his place so’s he can look at your back. You go ahead and get cleaned up, I'll be back over in a bit."

"Sure, Ennis, I'm gonna take a hot shower.  Wyomin’ is the coldest place I ever seen."  Billy sat down carefully and began pulling off his boots.

Ennis led the horses over to the stable in the twilight and removed their bridles and saddles.  He set out some feed for them.  His clothes were dry but he was feeling the evening chill through his thin shirt.  He was heading over to the house when Chet called to him from his office that butted up to the side of the stables.

"Del Mar!  I need a minute with you."

Chet worked for old man Barker for more than thirty years.  He came up to Riverton from Colorado in the early sixties to find some land and set up his own small cattle operation.  He took a job with Barker that first summer, and never left the place.  Chet was a good ten years older than Ennis and about half a foot shorter, with a full head of salt & pepper hair and handlebar mustache.  What he didn't have in height he made up for in attitude.  Chet quickly proved himself to Barker in those early days to be someone who could handle the seasonal ranch hands well and over the years he became a fixture at the ranch.  Chet long since gave up on getting his own place, but Ennis always thought he acted like he owned the Barker ranch.

Ennis knew the old man put a lot of trust and responsibility on Chet.  Ennis never doubted Chet was a loyal employee, but he didn't like him just the same.  Ennis always felt Chet was sneering at him, and when he had to submit his supply requests there were always questions about why he needed this or what was he gonna do with that.  Chet made things more difficult than they needed to be and enjoyed doing it.

Ennis and Chet walked into the cramped office where Chet had his desk and chair.  Filing cabinets were lined up along one wall and several clipboards were hanging on nails along the chair rail behind the desk.  Everything was in order, just the way Chet liked it.  Chet sat down behind his desk and Ennis stood in the open doorway.  The naked bulb hanging from the ceiling lit the small office with a harsh light.

"Mr Barker wants you to take the big truck down to Laramie in the morinin’ to pick up three men who’re gonna be workin with us this summer.  One of ‘em's Big Scotty.  He did a real good job last year, and he's got two amigos he's recommended to me.  I'll give ‘em a try."  Chet picked up the large pickle jar he kept on the floor behind his desk and spit dark tobacco juice into it.  Ennis noticed it was already half full.

"I need you to take the truck on over to the Texaco and get that radiator leak fixed or you'll never make it to Laramie and back. They're open 'til nine.  What the hell happened to your hat?"

Ennis didn't like taking orders from Chet, he preferred to deal with the old man directly.

“I had to stick it up under my saddle when we crossed the river.  The water was runnin’ so fast I let the horses cross solo."

Chet just stared at Ennis.

"You ‘bout finished up with Barker's nephew?  We ain't got time for anymore babysittin.’  Things is heatin up fast and we gotta’ get them cattle on the move in the next couple ‘a weeks.  I don't even know why he come up here anyway, anybody can see he don't know what he's doin.’  He’ll be high tailin it back to Texas once the real work begins."

Ennis didn't reply to this, he knew Chet felt threatened by Billy's presence.

"You got anything else?"

"Nope, that's all for right now.  You hear about Joe Aguirre?"   

Ennis continued to lean against the door post.

"He dropped dead yesterday.  He was eighty-five and still working his place.  He was a tough old bastard.  Didn’t you work for him some years back when he had that sheep operation down near Brokeback?"

"Yep,— one summer he stiffed me out of a month's pay."

Ennis looked at Chet with a blank face.

"I thought I remember him mentionin’ some’um about it some years back."

The black phone on Chet's desk rang, he picked it up and started talking.  Ennis went over to the house to see Barker and let him know  what happened on the trip.  They sat at the kitchen table and talked for a while.

Billy stripped down and turned on the hot water full blast.  He stepped into the open shower stall all the ranch hands used.  The hot water felt great spraying on his shoulders and back, even though it stung the fresh scrapes.  He turned around under the nozzle and let the warm liquid beat on his chest, sluicing down his flat belly and into the reddish brown patch of hair between his legs.  He knew Ennis felt bad about what happened.  He didn’t say a word from the time they left the lake until they reached the bunkhouse.  He thought about how gentle Ennis was tending to his wounds, and he could see the concern in his eyes.  Despite Ennis’s inscrutable exterior, Billy knew there was a kind, compassionate man underneath the façade.  Billy stood in the steaming shower thinking about Ennis and letting the hot water warm him to the core.

“You better watch that when the other cow pokes get here.”

Billy looked up with a start.  It was Chet.  He was standing in the bath house door.  Billy turned away with embarrassment, he didn’t realized he had a hard on.

“Get dressed.  I’m gonna run you down to Doc Adams.  He’ll take a look at that cut on your back.”  Chet walked out.

Billy lathered up his body, washed his hair and quickly rinsed.  He stepped out of the shower and dried off, carefully patting off his back. He put on some clean clothes and combed his hair.  He was glad it was Chet who walked in on him instead of Ennis.

Copyright 2006 Tom Forster