CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT Luke

The rest of the crew went to the dorms to shower before supper. I remained in the loft of the barn, but not the loft I wished I was in. We'd just taken in the third harvest of hay and stacked another hundred-and-twenty bales there. I was exhausted, but in no hurry to join the family in the main hall for a meal.

Two weeks had gone by since I last saw Tate. Thinking that time would heal my heart, and I could move on eventually, was wrong. My heart—and just about every other part of me—missed him desperately. There wasn't a second of my day that Tate wasn't right there, occupying my every thought, and slowly killing me with a hurt I'd never experienced.

I'd often wondered whether I'd know when or if I was in love, had love, or felt love. This desperate feeling must be love. The concept of loving someone other than family had escaped me for nineteen years. Quite honestly, I couldn't imagine that love, a feeling that evokes images of happiness and bliss, could hurt so badly. My heart felt like it could stop beating. Sometimes, I wished it would.

I reached into my jeans pocket and retrieved the card Tate had sent to the ranch with Josiah. The business card was worn out from the constant pulling out and stuffing back into my pockets for the past ten days.

"Please call me," I whispered, rereading the three words for the hundredth time.

God! What must Tate be thinking?A sob escaped my throat, and I bent over at the waist when the ache hit again.

Ten Days Ago

"And I'm supposed to believe that you have changed, boy?" Franklin asked, now sitting at his desk with two men on either side of him.

"Yes, sir," I whispered, my chin practically touching my chest. "I wish to repent the sins of my actions."

"Are you prepared to be punished?"

"I am, Father."

"Do you retract the demonic accusations you harmfully threw at me to diminish my authority?"

"Yes, Father," I whispered.

"Speak up, boy."

"Yes, Father," I said, louder and with more conviction. "And may I ask a favor?"

Franklin laughed out loud. "You want a favor?" He looked at the two men beside him. "He wants a favor," he taunted.

"I'm willing to take any due punishment, Father. Whatever you deem I deserve."

"And what do I get?" he snarled, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his desk.

I was instantly reminded of what favors I'd had to give in the past. I was fairly certain that after how I'd beat on him the last time, he'd leave me alone.

"I will submit to your wishes concerning all matters," I began. "I will remain on the ranch as field help only, never to request an outside job, Father."

"And in return, you get what?"

"May I humbly request a dorm room for my family?" I pleaded, finally looking up to see his response. "My actions unfairly penalized them, Father. I accept all responsibility."

"And you'll reside where?" he asked, twirling a pen around with his fingers, obviously enjoying being king of everything at the moment.

"With them, sir?"

His lip curled, and he shook his head. "No, that won't work for me, boy. I'm going to have to deny that request."

My eyes darted between the men standing next to Franklin. They'd known me since I was a child. Both of them had been important people to my father's success. Today, they wouldn't dare return a kind look or interfere on my family's behalf.

"I stay in the shack and my family gets a dorm room, Father?" I bargained.

Franklin locked eyes with me, drawing his line, and making it very clear I had lost the battle. Facing him now, across his desk, I'd lost more than the battle, I'd lost the war.

"That will suffice, boy," he said. "But!" he amended. "There will be no advancement opportunities, no improved housing, no future mate, and you will work six days a week toiling on the ranch. Is that understood, Luke?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good." He pointed at the door. "One more violation of any kind, and you and your family will be excommunicated. Permanently! Now get out of here."

Nightfall found me still in the loft of the barn. I'd dozed off during supper, and as a result, would face another night without food. Things in the barn weren't much different from the shack I now occupied. At least the barn had electricity and running water.

"Luke?" a voice whispered from below. "Luke? Are you in here?"

"David?"

I hurried to the edge of the loft, peered down, and found David standing below, holding two foil packets. David had what I assumed was food in his hands.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked, climbing down the ladder, two rungs at a time.

"Sister Sarah packed it for you," he answered, setting the food down and jumping into my arms. "I miss you, Luke. I miss you so much."

I cradled his head and shushed him while kissing the top of his head. "I love you too, little brother. How's Ma?"

"You know Ma," he replied, stepping back to face me, tears streaking his face. "She's afraid of everything now. Worse than before, too."

"And your room? Is it the same?" I asked, hoping I'd disrupted their lives as little as possible.

"We're back in the same one. Do you think you'll be back soon?" he asked, breaking my heart with the way he tugged on my sleeve. "The bottom bunk is empty, and I keep it clear for you, Luke. Ma tries to pile stuff on it, but I don't let her," he explained, moving back into my embrace, and pressing his face against my chest.

I stroked his hair gently and let him cling to me for as long as he needed. David hadn't acted like a boy in quite some time. He openly wept as I held him, letting me know he wasn't as grown up as he tried to let on.

"I need you to be strong, brother. Take care of Ma and always do what you're asked," I stated. "Do you understand?"

"We can run away, Luke. I'll go with you."

"We can't leave Ma here alone. And we both know she won't leave even if we could," I reminded him.

"But me and you can leave right now. We can get out of here and go far away," he said. "Please, Luke. Let's go. Just me and you."

I moved him back, lifting his chin. He held my wrists with his small hands. There was fear in his eyes, and I felt a familiar chill moving up my spine again.

"Why?" I asked. "Why are you asking me to leave Ma?"

"Because."

"Because isn't a good enough reason, David. Is someone hurting you?"

"Everyone's hurting us. Always. Every day they hurt us," he cried. "We need to get away."

"I'm asking you, David. Who is hurting you?"

He pushed me away. "Everyone!" he yelled, angrily thrusting his fists to his side. "Don't you see it? They all want to hurt us."

"Who's touching you, David?" I asked, moving closer to him as he backed away. His eyes were terror-stricken as I moved closer. "It'll be okay, little brother. Just tell me if someone is hurting you. Can you just please tell me?"

"I want you to go away with me," he cried. "Just do that, okay?"

I took another step, advancing nice and easy, trying to grab him so he could be held and could feel safe in his answer. I could protect him, but I needed the truth. I lunged for his hand, but he avoided my reach and ran out the open door.

"David!" I hollered, running to the door and looking into the darkness.

He was gone.