CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Luke

Ilooked at my mother, stunned at what had just happened. "What was that all about?" I asked, rushing to the door of our small dorm apartment and checking the hallway for my brother.

"David!" I yelled down the hall. David had pushed the double doors open a second before, leaving the building in a hurry.

"He's been like that for the past two weeks, son," Ma said, clutching her neckline and appearing to be at wit's end. "You're so busy in Bend these days that you don't check in with him enough. He needs his older brother, Luke."

"And I need a work skill, Ma."

I knew not to sass my mother. I was basically the head of our household now, but I also preferred being respectful of her role in our family. With me nineteen, going on twenty, and David at fourteen, her boys were practically men. I disliked that David was growing up as much as she did. My fears for his safety were a bit more serious, but I understood hers.

"You need to be on top of your brother as wellas develop a work skill. Without your father here, that is your role now. David sulks, he's unhappy, and he doesn't want to listen to me anymore, Luke," she pointed out. "He runs off to God knows where, leaving chores undone, and that's not like him. David respects and adores you, son. So please go after him and sort this out."

As much as I wanted to sleep after a long day at work, I knew she wouldn't let up until I went after my little brother. I had a hunch where he might be headed, but I'd check the barn first since it was closer to the dorm building.

The evening was incredible as I made my way across the wide swath of lawn, kept green because Franklin insisted, even in dry conditions like Central Oregon had. The air was cool and refreshing, a slight breeze coming up the hill from the large pond below me, near the wall, and the graveled road just beyond that. I loved the peace of the ranch and the beauty that surrounded me. As hard as life was since my father died, I knew I'd miss parts of my life here if I ever decided to leave.

After not finding David in the barn, I headed to the south side of the ranch and a tree line that grew there. When David was around six, Pa and the two of us built a tree house we liked to hide away in. Some nights, when Pa allowed, we camped overnight in it, tucked away twenty feet high, and hidden by leaves and branches.

To David, a small boy with a big imagination, our overnighters were one of his favorite things. Unfortunately, when I turned sixteen, the childhood fun halted. Children in our community all had chores, but sixteen denoted adulthood, and larger responsibilities than cleaning your bedroom or helping with dishes came with the age.

I threw a rock and hit the side of the treehouse. Nothing. I wanted to avoid climbing the suspect ladder we'd nailed to the tree trunk years before, but it looked like David was staying silent.

"I'm coming up," I hollered. "I'd appreciate it if you came down instead, though."

His silence meant I'd be climbing. I pulled my boots off and started up.

"Go away, Luke," he yelled. "I don't want you in my fort." Not such a grownup after all.

"Lift the hatch, David, or I'll smash it in. Your choice."

I heard him mumbling above me as he shuffled across the floor. Two seconds later, the hatch opened. He slid back and away from the opening, apparently unwilling to lend me a hand. I gripped the edges of the opening and lifted myself into the small space.

Once my eyes adjusted to the dim interior, I noticed food, water bottles, several items of clothing, and a shotgun. The rules were that our firearms were kept under lock and key in the compound, so he had some explaining to do. I recognized the hidden panel in the floor that we'd cleverly designed, was open, wondering if he'd been hiding the shotgun there instead of where it should be.

Half Moon Ranch and its inhabitants were gun owners. Gun rights and the right to bear arms were one area where Franklin agreed with the government. In Central Oregon, gun ownership and conservative points of view were common, but not so much on the west side of the state. Cities like Portland seemed to think we were a bunch of outlaws and haters on the east side of the Cascade Mountains.

I didn't pay no mind to what people in government were up to, but had my own shotgun at age twelve, like all boys in the compound. We were encouraged to hunt to provide for our families. However, we had one rule. Guns were under lock and key and kept secure. No exceptions.

"Whatta you want?" he muttered, as disrespectful as I've ever heard him be. "You don't even like this place like you used to."

I moved out of the way and replaced the hatch. "I have to work full time now, and you know it," I replied.

David glared at me. An ugly expression that I wasn't used to seeing on him. "You wouldn't hang out even if you didn't."

I glanced at his shotgun. "And that?" I asked. "You know the rules, David. Just more rule-breaking. Is that your thing now?"

"Stupid rules," he argued. "I don't care about rules anymore or anyone in this dumb place."

"What about Ma and me? You care about us at all?" His face shifted toward his lap, where his hands were currently doing battle with one another. I noticed him tearing up, so I didn't push. "We'd be sad if you didn't love us back," I added, pushing my foot against his leg. "You're my only baby brother."

"I ain't no baby."

"You're acting like one," I said. "That's not the brother I know and love."

Those eyes of his, the ones filling, suddenly overflowed. He swiped at them with the back of his hand, but the dam had burst. Too late now. I moved closer and tried to put my arm around his shoulders, but he pushed me away.

"Don't touch me," he hissed. "I don't like being touched."

"Since when?" I teased. "I'm your big brother and if I want hugs, I'll take them."

I tried again, but this time, he smacked my arm hard. "Don't," he snarled, behaving like an injured dog.

"David!" I yelled, gripping his wrist to stop him from fighting me. "What is this? I demand that you tell me what's up with your behavior. And remember this, brother. You will not disrespect me."

"You don't care about me."

His eyes were distant, and the little boy I knew and loved was absent from them. An alarm sounded in the recesses of my mind the moment I recognized the look he'd suddenly adopted.

My face moved to within an inch of his, my temples pulsing. "Has anyone hurt you, David?" He remained stone-faced, still fidgeting with his hands. "I asked you a question."

I reached for his chin and pinched it hard as I lifted his face to me. He tried to pull away from me, but I wouldn't let go. "Stop!" he cried. "Leave me alone, Luke. You don't care about me. You're never here for me anymore."

"I'm here now, ain't I?"

His eyes narrowed and his lips quivered. "Yeah, but you're too…"

He hesitated. "I'm too what?" I whispered.

"Nothing. Never mind."

I came to my knees in front of him and held his shoulders. "Listen to me, David," I growled. My voice must've frightened him because his eyes popped wide open, and he tried pulling away again. "Has someone hurt you? Has anyone that isn't Ma or me laid a hand on you?"

We stared at one another. I could almost see his mind whirling. My chest burnt with anger. Just tell me, and I swear I'll kill him.

"No," he whispered. "I'm just mad at you."

"Do not lie to me."

"I'm not," he argued. "Ma is being mean, and you don't like me anymore."

Then, my ‘all-grown-up,' big-talking little brother, began crying. I pulled him close and smothered him into my chest. "You're the most important person in my life, David. Do you understand me?"

"You promise?" he asked, clinging to me.

"Yes," I answered, stroking the back of his head as he cried. "And you'd tell me if someone was hurting you? You'd make sure I knew, right?"

He nodded his head against my chest. I stared into space as a fear like no other gripped my heart.

Could I believe him?