CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Luke

I'd probably swept the aisles closest to the front windows, facing the street, at least five times. Every time I went to the back room or swept further away from the windows, the draw to check the parking lot was too much for me. I'd rush back to the showroom, pledging to be a perfect warrior for God if Tate was there. I'd bargained good deeds, more bible study, whatever it took to get my prayer answered.

"If I do stop by, it'd likely be Thursday night,"Tate had said. "No guarantee, but I'll try my best."

The work week dragged as I anticipated Thursday and the possibility of seeing him again. Tate had taken up one hundred percent of my thoughts, no matter what I was doing or where I was. The experience was completely new to me, and I wasn't sure what my intense feelings meant. Perhaps this was what my brothers had been harping about for years when they looked forward to courting one of the girls on the ranch.

As usual, the rest of the crew left for the ranch promptly at five-thirty. They'd arrive home in time to dine in the community hall by suppertime at six-thirty. My meal would depend on Ma acquiring food for me in my absence. If she failed, I wouldn't get to eat.

While putting the broom away in the backroom after another failed check of the parking lot, I was alerted to the front door buzzer. I silently said a prayer that we didn't have a late-in-the-day customer. My concern was wiped from my face, instantly replaced with a grin, when I found Tate standing there.

"I brought you something," he said, smiling that incredible smile he had, his hands behind his back.

My heart actually ached at the sight of him. Ached or swelled too big. I didn't have a name for it, but something occurred in my chest whenever I saw him. "That is mighty nice of you, Tate," I said, coming to stand in front of him.

He brought his hands to his front. "Ta-da! McDonald's!" he announced, holding a bag in one hand and two bottles of Coke in the other. "And caffeine-free Coke from the gas station."

"For me?"

"Well, for me too," he said. "I knew you'd want the caffeine-free stuff. I hope you like Big Macs, handsome. They're my absolute fave fast food."

His calling me handsome made my chest want to burst. "I've never had fast food or McDonald's."

His smile disappeared for a fraction of a second, but he quickly pulled it back. "Fantastic! Then I'm glad it's me who gets to introduce you to good old Micky Dee's."

Tate's bubbly personality was like a bad cold, contagious. "Gosh," I remarked, nervous, yet excited about the food, but more so because he'd thought about me. "I'm real excited," I added, beaming back at him.

Tate did something nice for me and I hadn't even asked him to. I wondered what made him think of doing such a thing. The feelings that always set up shop in my heart when he was near felt bigger, if that was possible. We were becoming friends, which I appreciated, but I already had enough friends. This feeling was bigger than friendship in my mind. And just when I figured I didn't have more space in my heart, he found some for me.

"Where shall we eat then?" he asked, shaking the bag at me. "The fries inside this bag are gettin' cold, Luke."

I spotted a dining room set hidden away from the busy street. "How about over there?" I asked, pointing in its direction. "I could get some paper towels."

"That'd be kinda fancy, Mr. Luke," he teased.

I liked this side of Tate. He was funny and full of energy. And he was as handsome as I remembered. Today he had a tight T-shirt on with denim jeans like mine. He looked like he could be in high school.

"I've never seen you wear jeans like mine," I pointed out, feeling proud we dressed the same. "You look real nice."

"I always wear jeans when dining out at McDonald's," he quipped. "Plus, I've been admiring yours," he added, winking at me. My knees almost collapsed.

"Okay then," I said, motioning to the dining set before I left to get some paper towels. "Be right back."

On the way back, I pulled a plaid tablecloth from a picnic table we had on display and brought it around the corner. Tate hadn't sat down yet.

"For me?" he asked.

"For us," I corrected, using his earlier line, lifting the bag of food off the table and handing it to him. "We need a nice table for my very first McDonald's food."

"You stick with me, Luke, and it'll be fine dining all the time."

We sat across from one another and Tate divided the food. I'd never seen a sandwich in a little box before. We each had a red container of potato slivers I'd never seen either. I waited until he opened his box, and then did the same.

"Three pieces of bread?" I asked, looking at him like I'd witnessed a miracle. "And in one sandwich?"

Tate burst out laughing, pointing at me, and grinning. "You are so sweet, Luke. I just love you."

His words caught me off guard. No one besides Ma and Pa ever said they loved me. David did when he was real young, but he'd sooner eat a grasshopper than admit that now. I fumbled with picking up the sandwich, setting it back in the box after a moment.

"You okay?" Tate asked, also putting his sandwich down.

"Did you just say you loved me?" I asked.

"Well, yeah. I guess I did say that," he admitted. "I meant that I love your personality, the sweet way you have about you."

"Is that different from the other love?"

"Hmmm," he hummed. "I guess in this case, it's more about learning things about you worth loving, Luke. When you said that about three pieces of bread, I found it funny and wholesome, like you. I suppose I could've said I really liked you, but I just said love instead."

"What I feel about you," I stuttered. "You know, when I see you," I added, nervously tapping my foot on the floor. "Do you call that love? Because I feel so good inside when I see you."

Tate's eyes filled with water again. I noticed this happened when I spoke serious words to him. "Wow!" he gasped, shaking his head. "Now, that is a very nice thing to say to me." Tate swiped at his eyes, locked them with mine, and we sat there staring at each other. He didn't look away, and neither did I, but I didn't feel uncomfortable in the least. Actually, I felt warm. He was looking at me, and it felt like he was trying to really see me. "It could be the beginning of love, I suppose," he whispered.

"Like courting?" I asked.

The corners of his mouth lifted, a smile taking shape. "I've never courted, Luke, and I mean this sincerely, but if I ever were to court, I think you'd be the guy I'd want to do that with."

"You're not making fun of me?"

"Would I be making fun of you by stopping by with dinner?" he quipped, holding a potato stick up to me and winking. "Not a chance. I did it because I wanted to see you tonight. I planned this date because I like you."

All I could do was grin. His way of saying stuff made me want to jump and down and yell as loud as I could. "How about if I want to have another date with you?" I asked.

"Then I'd say, yes. Now, of course, you'd have to plan that date you're speaking of on your own because I don't go on dates with just any guy that asks," he said.

I wasn't as good at these sorta talks as he was, but I understood what he meant. I think. But I had a different question in mind that had settled into my worry file as soon as he mentioned any guys and dating.

"Do you go on dates with other guys?"

"I do not currently do that. I haven't had a boyfriend in more than a year."

Terms like boyfriend weren't used at the ranch. We had courting, and then we became mates. For life. He said he'd had a boyfriend, but now he didn't have one for a year.

"Did you stop being boyfriends and then were mates?" I asked, still unsure of the rules outsiders had. "I'm sorry, Tate. I really don't understand some of this stuff you talk about, but I truly want to."

"And you know what?" he asked. "That's just fine that you don't. I don't know what life at the ranch is like for you, either. How about we learn from each other? I could share information, and you could share stuff with me."

"I like that a lot," I agreed. The thing I admired the most about Tate? He looked all proper and handsome, but he didn't act the way he looked. He didn't act like he was better than anyone else. I liked that. "So, my first question is the one about your boyfriend."

"Good one," he stated, plopping a potato into his mouth. "Damn good fries," he added, grabbing three more and gobbling them down. Note to self. He calls them fries. "Well," he began. "In the beginning, we were boyfriends, with a chance to one day marry, or be what you might call, mates. However, my boyfriend found another boyfriend."

"You can do that?" I asked, almost instantly knowing that I didn't like that plan in the least. If Tate was my boyfriend, I wouldn't have other boyfriends. I hoped he wouldn't either.

"Apparently, you can. Mine did, anyway."

"I don't think I could share," I admitted. "My feelings would be hurt, to be honest with you."

"To be clear. You don't share your boyfriend, normally," he stated, hesitating before continuing with his explanation. "Well, most of the time, you don't. Mine said he wanted someone different," he explained.

"That's not allowed at the ranch."

He clapped his hands and pointed at me. "Now, see? There we go!" he exclaimed. "I like that ranch rule."

There was a nice flow when Tate and I spoke to each other. He appeared interested in what I spoke about. I noticed that he never once said an unkind word about my community, like most folks around these parts did. There was no judgment about what I could and couldn't do, no shocked reactions if I mentioned something different from what outsiders did. He was respectful, and that was another quality I admired.

"Try that burger now," he said, motioning to the sandwich. "Tell me what you think."

I picked it up and took a bite. Sauce dripped down the corners of my mouth as I chewed what was possibly the best thing I'd ever tasted. My mouth watered, and a burst of tangy, yet salty flavors overwhelmed my taste buds.

"Mmgooodmm," I moaned, licking my lips, my fingers, and anything else that had sauce on it.

"What was that you just said?" he teased. "Can't say I've ever heard that word before."

We exchanged smiles many times as we ate in silence. Me with my first Big Mac and fries. Feeling like a kid with his first piece of candy. I washed all that down with a cool and crisp Coke—another first.

Tate put fries in his burger and held it up to me. "Try that."

I leaned forward, and he fed me a bite of his burger.

I don't think I've ever been happier.