CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Luke

Jed and Josiah were still at the store, working on a delivery. I glanced at the wall clock. Half-past five, and they showed no signs of leaving.

"Why don't you head out, Luke?" Jed hollered through the shop window. "We'll sweep up tonight, brother."

I hurried over to the large window that opened to the shop where the furniture was designed and built. "A customer called in," I lied. "He said the doors aren't working properly on that large cabinet we delivered last Saturday."

Jed's brow furrowed for a moment until he remembered the customer. "The customer in Old Town?" he asked. "He also bought the long table, right?"

I nodded, trying to act as normal as possible. Lying was not natural for me, and I was certain he could read me like a book. "Yes. Probably just needs adjusting again," I said, looking away and acting casual. "Maybe I should go check it out on the way out of town," I suggested.

"Sounds good, Luke. Be sure to apologize for any issues he has."

"I'm taking the red truck," I said, still wondering if my story could be this easily accepted. "Just wanted you to know. You and Josiah okay with the other truck?"

Jed gave me a thumbs up and went back to sanding a table. Josiah hadn't bothered looking up the entire conversation. The untruths were so simple and no one seemed the wiser. Why then did I feel so awful for lying to my brothers?

Panic raced through me after ringing the buzzer. Being here could be a problem. I turned my back to the camera and stared at the traffic as it zipped by. What if a member drove by and noticed me outside a stranger's building at six at night? Would they believe my story about an appointment I'd lied about back at the store?

I was forced to buzz again, almost chickening out and leaving. This time, I nervously stared into the camera. "Be home. Be home," I mumbled. My foot tapped fretfully on the concrete stoop. "Come on. Come on."

"Hey." I'd forgotten he could see me.

"It's just me."

There was a moment of silence. "Luke? Is everything okay?"

"Can I come up?" I asked. "Unless you're busy, you know, and stuff. Or maybe some other time," I babbled. "You're busy, right?"

The door buzzed. "It's open," he said. "I'm in forty-one."

I took a quick glance at the street and down the sidewalk before entering. What I was doing was beyond forbidden. We were not allowed to be in outsider's homes unless it was specifically for business-related matters while accompanied by another member. My business reason was a lie, but I couldn't help myself.

"Hey, you," Tate said, opening his door. "I'm surprised to see you."

"Is it okay that I stopped by?"

"Of course. Come on in."

Tate wore gym shorts and a tank top. He'd be considered indecent at the ranch, but I couldn't keep my eyes off him. Whenever he turned or looked away, I explored his bare skin. Circuits were firing from my brain to my toes, and every spot in between, at seeing him in such a state of undress.

His legs were athletic, like a runner's legs I'd seen in a magazine one time. They were smooth, yet manly. The tank top fit him like a bridle on a horse's neck. Tight. I hadn't imagined he'd have muscular arms like mine. His biceps were smaller than mine, but he looked like he could've labored in the fields. But I'd seen his hands up close. They were soft. This handsome man did not work hard labor.

"Thank you, Tate. You know, for letting me come in."

"You're always welcome." He headed for the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink? A Coke? Some coffee?" he asked.

"I don't drink caffeine, remember?" I replied.

He smiled and pointed at me, snapping his fingers. "Yes. Yes, I remember. The bakery. I came in looking for coffee."

"You looked so handsome," I stated. "I'd never wished we sold coffee more than that day."

Tate leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms and studying me. "You really are this nice, Luke, aren't you?"

I didn't have an answer for his kind words, so I just smiled and stared at him. He lifted his arms over his head and yawned, stretching toward the ceiling. I wanted to faint at the sight of his naked stomach. His stomach was flat and had muscles I hadn't expected to see. I could tell his skin was soft from across the room and I so desperately wanted to feel him.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" I asked.

His mouth tightened as my words seemed to hit him wrong. He appeared sad at my compliment. "Why did you come here, Luke?" he whispered, burying his hands in the pockets of his gym shorts.

Good question."I'm not exactly sure. I guess my mind just can't stop thinking about you," I began. "I'm not gonna lie. I've tried to shut it off, Tate. I have, really I have."

"We can't do whatever this is, Luke," he stated matter-of-factly. "You understand that, right?" His words shattered my dreams.

Hearing him shut me down before I even tried to explain what I was feeling hurt me. The last time I was in his home, he seemed like he'd consider letting me court him, but now he was closed off.

"I'm sorry, but no. No, I don't understand," I stammered.

Tate turned his back to me, his head leaning over the sink. I watched as his back shook after a deep breath. "It was you that said we can't be friends outside of ranch walls, Luke."

"But I want to court you," I reminded him. He turned around, and his eyes were wet. His mouth opened, but then it shut again as if he needed another moment to sort his feelings. I took my chance to attempt an explanation. "Courting someone is more than being their friend," I defended. "I want to be with you as more than a friend."

"What is more than a friend, then?" he asked, turning to face me. "What happens, Luke, when someone courts someone?"

"You say yes, and then you and me are one. We join, Tate. Like one… one…"

"One what?" he quickly interrupted.

He had me there. What would happen if he said yes, and we joined? I realized I didn't even know what that meant. "I'm not sure," I admitted. "Is there something else we could be? Something that you do in the outside world?"

Tate lifted his arms from his sides, palms toward me, appearing mildly bothered, and gazed around the room before returning his focus to me. "This is the outside world, Luke. I live in the outside world. Remember? Right here. Right now."

He seemed angry with me, and I didn't understand the reason. "I thought you liked me," I said, feeling like a rug was yanked out from under me. My chest felt a pain I'd never felt. The ache was foreign to me and felt like a knife stabbing my heart. "You don't want the same thing anymore?" I asked.

"What I want and what you can give are two separate things, Luke."

"I can give you those things," I pleaded. "I can try harder and learn stuff. I'm smart, Tate. I can do things."

"I want a husband, Luke. I want to live in a house like a family. I want to be loved by someone, to love someone, to belong to someone," he explained.

"I can do all that," I said.

"I want to have sex with that someone," he declared, pinching the bridge of his nose and hiding his eyes behind his hand.

He surprised me with that statement. I froze in place, my eyes darted around the room, and panic crept up my back as my body recognized the feeling of fight or flight. Blackness filled my mind as a memory of Franklin pushing my face into the hay and assaulting me took over. I felt the ropes tightening. He wanted to hurt me. Over and over and over again. Run away, Luke. Tate is going to hurt you like Franklin does. Sex is mean and painful. Run.

"He hurts me," I whispered. "He makes me… makes me…do stuff."

Tate's face registered horror at my words. He froze for a moment before coming around the island, careful to keep his distance, like he was afraid of how dirty I was.

"Who hurts you, Luke?" he asked.

I began sobbing uncontrollably and bent at the knees as I came to the floor. Tate was at my side in a moment, reaching for my hands.

"He… he… hurts me. Since I was thirteen," I cried, hiccuping, pulling my hands away and hiding my face, trying to hide my shame. "I don't want to do those things with you, Tate. I will, though, to be with you, I will, but I don't truly want to."

He reached out and held my chin, being careful as he assessed my reaction. I lowered my hands and found him staring at me, tears in his eyes. "No one deserves to be hurt, Luke. No one," he whispered. "I would never do that to you. I would never hurt you."

"Aren't I dirty, though?"

"Of course not," he said. "What you are is pure and wonderful. Strong and kind. You are exactly the opposite of the person who hurts you."

"That's why I'm afraid of… of… what you said," I confessed.

Tate held my hand and locked eyes with me. "Listen to me, Luke. Please listen carefully. Sexual abuse and consensual sex are not the same thing. What happened to you, or is happening to you, is not normal. And sexual abuse is wrong on all levels. Do you understand me?"

"It doesn't feel good," I whispered.

"Oh, honey," he began. "Of course it doesn't; because it's wrong. However, you are not the bad person here. Do you understand what I mean?" I nodded. He lifted my chin and waited until I focused on him. "The person in front of me, you, are all the things I just said. You are kind and caring and you do not deserve what is happening to you."

My embarrassment at telling Tate what I'd told him overcame me. I felt burdened with shame, and that I was unworthy of him. But he stayed there. Right by me. He wasn't running from me. He didn't recoil in disgust. He was crying with me.

"Can I hug you?" I whispered. Tate stood and waited for me to stand, too. He spread his arms and extended a welcome. "Yes?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered.

I stepped forward, forgetting how much bigger I was than him. It didn't matter. Tate brought me into his arms and held me closely. I was nearly a head taller, but felt small in his embrace.

I'd never been in the arms of a man other than my father, and the feelings surging through my body were alien to me. As depressing as our discussion had just been, I found a warmth in Tate's embrace that I hadn't expected. His arms held me gently, while also feeling strong, protective, and loving.

Something about this person drew me in and made me want to experience more of whatever this was. But for the moment, he made me feel like a whole person, and for the first time in my life, like I mattered to someone.

And once again, I wept.

"I will never hurt you, Luke."

I pressed my face into his neck. His smell was intoxicating, and I wanted to stay there forever. Tate moved his hand to the back of my head and ran his fingers across my short hair. Being touched in such an intimate way was a new experience and parts of my body responded differently than how my heart did.

I felt alive from his touch. A deep and burning need ached within. An ache that seemed ten times that of physical hurt. The want was different, and I sought to feel this ache even though I wondered if I'd survive it.

Tate and I sat down after I reluctantly gave in to him moving away from me and leading me to the sofa. He held my hand, and he listened. The abuse I'd endured poured out of me, with me leaving out the worst details. Details I would've had a hard time describing to him. He urged me to report the offender, but I refused to identify who assaulted me, other than to say he was a man of power in my community. My new fear was that Tate would tell the authorities and my family would be punished as a result.

Franklin often told me during assaults that no one would believe me, and that the police on the outside would do nothing to help me. He took pleasure in reinforcing that fear each and every time he assaulted me. But the threat that sealed my silence? He'd threatened to hurt David.

"Look," Tate said, glancing at his watch. "The time is late, and I know you need to return to Madras. I wish you could stay longer and we could talk more, but I know you're under strict rules." He placed his hand on my knee. "Please consider reporting this person, or at least speak with someone you trust."

"I can't do that," I replied. "Telling on this man would be the end of my family on the ranch."

Tate ceased pushing. "If you think that's best," he agreed. "You can speak with me anytime you think you need a good listener."

I glanced at the microwave oven's clock, not ready for it to be so late. Half-past eight. I'd need a solid lie to cover for my tardiness when I arrived at the gate, and Madras was forty-plus miles away, at least another hour of travel time.

"If someone calls, can you say you weren't happy with the repair, so you made me stay late and fix it?" I asked.

"Yes, of course," Tate agreed, standing and walking to the counter. He opened a leather bag and removed a business card, returning to my side. "Take this. My office and personal cell number are on here. You can call me if you need someone to talk with?"

"I don't have access to phones," I admitted. "Phones are only in our businesses, and in leadership offices."

"Not even a cell phone?"

"We're not allowed electronics," I confirmed.

Tate appeared deep in thought. "Hmmm," he murmured. "Would you like to come over here again?" I vigorously nodded my desire. "How can we make that happen and you not get in trouble?"

I nibbled at the inside of my mouth as I thought about ways I could see him again. "You could call the store and schedule repair appointments. Complain that something else is wrong," I explained. "And if you made an appointment for, say, three or four in the afternoon, I could visit longer."

"How would I know you'd be the person who came over?" he asked.

"I'm the newest worker. I get all the service appointments," I replied. Then I had another thought. "And if you could, or maybe wanted to, I'm alone after five-thirty at the store six days a week."

Tate grinned. "I hear ya. I could shop at that time. Yeah, I could do that."

His wanting to see me enough to do these things had me wanting to ask him a question about us, but that hadn't gone too well earlier. My hands battled in my lap while my brain was at war over asking the question.

"I can see your hands twisting and your mind whirling, Luke," he teased. "What are you thinking about?"

"Would you… are we…"

He placed his hand on my lap and squeezed my hand. "How about we get to know each other better for now? Would that work for you?"

"And you'll call?" I asked.

"And I'll call," he agreed.

For once in my life, I had something to look forward to.