jack_f_twist | (no subject)

(no subject)

For all Jack's been here for a while, now, he still ain't what you'd call close to a lot of people. So when he sits down at the Bar to get some coffee before heading out stable-wards and a note and package appear along with the steaming cup, he's more than a bit surprised.

After reading the note, though, he laughs, surprised and touched, and flips through the book that'd been left, with interest.

And that pie sure does smell good.

Takes a minute of rearranging, and then Jack, the coffee, the roster, and the pie all head out towards the stable.

She did say to share, after all.

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It takes a bit longer to do all the work, what without Jack helping out, but not a lot. So he's almost done, really, when the door opens and Jack walks in. Wiping an arm across his forehead he leans forward on the pitchfork and watches him.

Jack grins at him, holds up the pie for Ennis to see.

"Breakfast. C'mon and take a break for a minute and help me out with this, huh? Christ, can't believe she baked an whole damn pie."

The last is mostly said to himself as he searches about for a place to set the pie down, settling in the end for the line of hay bales stacked at one end of the stable. The roster goes down next to him, and he takes out a jackknife to cut into the pie.

Sweet potato. Damn. That woman sure knows her stuff.

Pie? Now pie will get his attention. He damn near just drops the pitchfork where he stands, but thinks better of it and stands it against the wall, shuffling on over to where Jack's sitting.

"Who baked you a pie?"

Not knowin' who bakes it ain't gonna stop him from eatin' it.

"Missus Reynolds. Met her the other day, guess she kinda took a shine to me. Rancher woman. Reminds me a hell of a lot a my grandma, when I was a kid. You gonna have some a this, or what?"

He holds out a piece that he'd cut, and takes one for himself.

"Damn fine woman," he says, with feeling.

"Pie ain't too bad, either."

He says it, mouth already full, crumbs falling. The pie's more than not too bad, it's pretty damn good, and he grins at Jack. Sure's hell beats old coffee for breakfast.

Jack shakes his head and looks up at the ceiling, his tone admiring.

"Sure ain't. Guess she wasn't lying when she said she could bake. Dropped this off for me, too."

He holds up the roster in his other hand, shows it to Ennis.

Ennis looks at the roster, and back at Jack, and back at the roster. He has the decency, at least, to finish chewing and swallowing this time before he talks.

"Looks like a roster of horse stock."

"Well, friend, that's what it is, surprisin'ly enough." He puts it down again, this time on his other side, near the pie, so that Ennis can reach it easily if he wants.

"Just thought I might want a take a look at it. Said to show it to you, too."

Well, not in so many words. But that had been the implication, surely.

Ennis does reach it. And he's awfully impressed, can't help but show that on his face.

"You lookin' at getting one?"

Ennis would be, but hell, his job pays, it don't pay that good. Not after only a few weeks, anyways.

Jack shrugs.

"Maybe. Ain't really thought bout it. Sure would be nice, though. Figured wouldn't hurt to look, anyways. She got some good ones, don't she?"

He grunts in agreement, pointing out one here, another there, most of 'em are top of the line, really.

"Sure does. Damn wish I could afford one."

Jack nods, shifts a little awkwardly.

"Well...I was thinkin'...it ain't like boardin' them's so damn expensive, here. So it's just the price a the horse. Thought, 'f I see Missus Reynolds again, might talk to her bout how a fella might pay for one a them. Or two."

He's concentrating on his coffee, and not looking over at Ennis at all, except for a glance sideways.

His eyebrows go up. And his lips purse.

"Don't need you to be buyin' a horse for me."

Now how's that for a flat-out lie?

"Kinda useless to have just one," Jack says, unruffled. "Could spot you a loan, 's all. Ain't sure about her pricings, anyway--might have to work off some a the payment if I did get one."

He isn't surprised. Money's always been kind of a sore spot with Ennis, and he keeps his voice easy, slouching against the other hay bales.

Ennis doesn't answer the matter of the loan. He ain't in the mood for fighting. Not now. Instead, he slumps down a bit, shrugging his shoulders.

"Would be nice."

Jack glances at him again, decides to drop it. Now's not the time to push Ennis, and besides, he ain't exactly keen on fighting, either.

"Sure," he agrees, puts the roster to one side, a tacit agreement to let the topic go, for now, and helps himself to more pie.

"You got a lot a work done, this morning. Sorry I weren't around to help."

"Got most of it done anyways."

He's looking an awful lot like he's willing to hand over the pitchfork for the rest of the job.

"Could still give you a hand, 'f you need."

Can say a lot a things bout Jack Twist, but no one can say he doesn't take his share of the work.

Even if it ain't exactly his work to share.

"Pitchfork's over there."

Yeah, that's something of a smirk on his face.

Jack only slants a grin at him in return and gets up, finishing off his coffee as he does so. One hand comes out to rumple Ennis' hat.

"Take your ease, then, cowboy," he says, and goes over to pick up the pitchfork and get to work.

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