CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR Luke

"Wow!" I exclaimed, looking up at the tall trees all around us. Tate's car had the ability to hide its top in the trunk. With the simple push of a button, the sky, in all its glory, was revealed. And the summer day we were sharing was indeed glorious.

Tate maneuvered the vehicle like a race car driver on the ride over Mt. Hood and toward Portland. In fact, his car looked and sounded like a race car. He carved corners to the point I wasn't sure if I needed to throw up or ride the adrenaline rush.

When not staring straight ahead as I tried to anticipate the next curve, I'd glance at him and feel an emotion I always felt when in his presence. Tate was classically handsome and my heart hurt whenever I was near him. From the way he was stylishly dressed, to the manner with which he handled himself confidently. Everything about him was enviable, and I wished I had something more to offer him.

What could a man so perfect in every way, see in a guy who had no money, no prospects for a successful future, or an education beyond a home-schooled, high school diploma? Tate was so far out of my league that I felt it was impossible he could see me as someone to love.

"You okay?" he hollered over the noise of having the top down, grinning like a crazy man. "They don't build Porches so people can drive slow, in case you wondered."

I gripped the door handle, dismissing my feelings of inadequacy, and grinned like a kid on his first roller coaster. Tate's caramel-colored hair blew wildly in the wind, messing up what was normally a meticulously styled look. His expensive-looking sunglasses made him appear like a movie star. I couldn't recall the names of those famous men, but he did look like the fancy guys on the movie posters in town. Movies I'd never seen.

Today he was dressed in what he described as golf shorts in dark blue, with a tight-fitting lighter blue-colored T-shirt that showed off his trim body. Bright white tennis shoes he claimed were ten years old, but looked brand new, finished off his athletic look.

Of course, I felt less than. Less than was my go-to feeling whenever I was outside the gates of Half Moon Ranch. I mentioned how I felt poorly dressed in comparison, so Tate suggested I not wear my button-down shirt, but instead, a tight-fitting T-shirt he loaned me. He rolled my jeans up to just above my ankles, stepping back as I laced my work boots up.

"Damn!" he'd said, giving me a thumbs up. "The distressed boots make the outfit, Luke. You look like a model."

I felt warm in the face after his compliment. Tate had this way about him where, when he spoke, he generally said positive things. However, I noticed that he was a completely different man when he was working. Oddly, I'd never heard him be negative until I witnessed him confronting the detectives.

"I'm doing well," I offered, getting back to his question. "You were a different person when you came to get me at the jail," I said, turning to him so he'd hear me.

"Okay, that's from left field, but in what way am I different?" he asked, quickly returning his eyes to the road ahead.

"I'm not sure I'd call it mean, but…" I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but mean was the only word I had. "Maybe bossy is better?" I added.

Tate laughed out loud at my description. "Mean and bossy?" he asked. "That doesn't make me sound like a good person."

"I know, but…" Once again, I lost my ability to describe what I'd witnessed when he was doing his lawyer work. "Different," I said, recognizing a word I felt fit for the change in him.

"Oh…" he began. "I forgot you hadn't seen my business personality before then, had you?" I shook my head. "Do you dislike the man I was at the jail?" he asked, looking back and forth between me and the road, waiting for an answer.

"I don't think I could ever not like you, Tate," I began. "You came across like the boss with those policemen. I guess you surprised me is all."

"I'm sorry if you thought I was being disrespectful to them, but when I'm doing my job, it's very important they see me as being in control of the situation," he explained. "Any sign of weakness could hurt my client's chances. And of course, I know criminal law pretty well, so I'm not intimidated by the police."

I didn't want Tate to think I found his work personality bad, but for the life of me, I couldn't express what witnessing his approach to them did to my insides. A sick feeling invaded my anxious mind when I observed him acting so aggressively. His behavior frightened me.

We rode in silence for several miles, with Tate looking over at me many times. After another five minutes of trying to discover what about his forceful behavior bothered me, he pulled off the highway and into a rest stop.

"The road noise makes it hard to speak," he stated, placing the car in park and turning to face me. "You've been quiet for quite a while, Luke. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Sorry," I whispered, fidgeting with my hands in my lap. "Can I tell you something without hurting your feelings?"

"Of course," he said, solemn in his reply.

"How you acted scared me," I admitted. "Reminds me of Franklin."

"Franklin scared you?" he asked. "I haven't pressed you to tell me about him yet, but he was the leader of your community, right?"

I lifted m eyes to him. I didn't want to compare Tate to Franklin, but I needed to know who that side of Tate was. "He was an awful person," I stated. My words obviously hurt Tate because he turned away from me, silent as he stared off into the forest beyond. "I never told you this, but Franklin was the person who abused me."

Tate drummed his fingers on his thigh, still facing away from me. He was keeping time with some imaginary beat, or perhaps biding his time as my hurtful words settled in. I wondered if I'd gone too far with my comparison.

"And I make you feel the way Franklin did?" he inquired, still not looking at me.

"No," I answered. "Of course not, but Franklin intimidated everyone. We all knew not to respond or voice an opinion that he might not like. If we did, he'd punish us. And… well… he'd do worse stuff to me." I turned away, the painful memory causing tears to well up.

Tate's head whipped around. "And you think I'd do those things to you?" he asked. He reached across the console and grabbed my hand. "Look at me please, Luke."

"I don't know," I began, unsure how to say what I felt. "No, not that you'd do to me what Franklin did. That's not what I meant. What I meant was that you seemed very mad at the police. I wondered if you'd hurt them."

"And you'd be correct. I was mad at the police, but I do not physically hurt people," he began. "I was angry that you'd been arrested without due diligence. I was angry that you were cuffed to the interrogation table like a common criminal, and I was hurting that I wasn't there to protect you, Luke. Did you hear the differences in what I just said? I said to protect you."

"Protect me?"

Tate brought his free hand to our joined hands and covered them. "My professional side can be rough around the edges," he admitted. "My job is to look out for your best interests and make sure your civil rights are not taken advantage of, Luke. And yes, unfortunately, my instincts were on high alert because of my emotional attachment to you. Perhaps I'm not best suited to be your attorney if I cannot separate my love for you from my job to advocate for you."

Tate had just said a lot of fancy words, but only one word stood out in his long explanation. "You have love for me?"

"I do," he confirmed, setting my heart aflame. "And I don't want you to confuse this me, with the professional version of me, Luke. Beating on or physically hurting someone, in any way, is not who I am. However, with that said, I need to be a strong person in how I defend you. But I will never physically harm you, or any other person, for that matter."

I'd followed his speech, but I was still stuck on him using the word love. "You love me?" His head tilted, and he gazed at me. "What kind of love?" I asked, watching him continue to stare at me.

"All that explanation and all you want to know is if I love you?" he whispered.

"No one's ever said that to me before," I confessed. "People aren't supposed to hurt you when they love you, right?"

His eyes filled, and I noticed his Adam's apple move when he swallowed hard. "When it comes to love, Luke, people can still hurt you," he explained. "They will disappoint you sometimes. And sometimes they leave you, and trust me, that hurts too."

"Do they beat you?"

I noticed his lips quivering as he appeared to be trying to fight a full-on cry. I'd been there and knew the struggle to avoid crying. He slowly shook his head from side to side.

"Sometimes they do," he whispered, surprising me with his response. "Sometimes they even… do… that. But that isn't love, Luke. That is abuse. Me being mad at the police or doing my job while I may appear to be angry has nothing to do with how I would ever treat you."

"Franklin said he did what he did to me because he loved me," I said. "He said he wanted to protect me from the outside world."

"I'm not saying he deserved to die, but Franklin did not truly love you, Luke. A good person, no matter their position in your life, does not abuse you. What he did to you was wrong," he clarified. "I am not Franklin. I will never be like Franklin. I want to protect you, but I will never abuse you. However, I expect to disappoint you because I'm not perfect, but I won't strike you, Luke."

Tate's words offered security to fears that haunted me. "So it's okay to be mean if you're protecting me?"

He chuckled. "Probably not," he admitted. "I suppose I could be nicer sometimes when I do my job. And perhaps I shouldn't be your attorney because of it, Luke. I'm sorry you're seeing the side of me that fiercely wants to keep you safe. I've let my feelings for you interfere with my work and if you prefer, we can find you different representation."

"If it's okay with you, I think I'd like you by my side," I said.

Tate didn't respond to my decision at first. Instead, he let go of my hand and relaxed back in his seat while he studied the many people visiting the rest stop. After a few more minutes, he cleared his throat.

"Can I ask you something as well?" he asked, turning toward me.

"Sure," I replied.

"Can we go back to why you stopped communicating with me after I dropped you off at the ranch?"

I wondered when he'd ask that question again. I'd been with him for nearly a week, and we still hadn't spoken about who we were to each other before the event. "To protect my family," I admitted. "They were forced out of our dorm room and into a shack because of me," I added. "I couldn't do what I wanted to do anymore after that."

"You told me about your family before, and I understand your concern for them. But, Luke, I want to know what it was you couldn't do, that you wanted to do, after all that."

My stomach suddenly felt upset. He asked the one question I didn't know the right answer to now that I sat right beside him. I'd figured we'd never be together again when I'd chosen my family over my desire to court him.

"I couldn't take the risk of courting you any longer," I revealed. "Even though I wanted to."

We locked eyes. His face was expressionless after my admission. I'd acknowledged what I'd done and why, and now he knew, but I didn't truly mean the words I spoke. I still worried about Ma and David and felt like I had no choice but to make sure they were okay, but now I couldn't go back. I hadn't expected Franklin to die and leave me free to leave, free to pursue Tate, free to live my life as I saw fit. My mother wasn't brave enough to leave, but maybe I was now.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Luke," he said. We studied one another as we both avoided what my answer meant. He didn't know what I really desired, and he didn't say what he wished for. "How about we get back on the road? Are you hungry?" he asked, changing the topic and moving his hand to the stick shift.

Hungry was the last thing I was. What I was, was heartbroken. Admitting to Tate that I couldn't court him was based on thinking my life would always be on the ranch. But now that I assumed I'd never get to be back there or need to protect my family from Franklin, I wanted nothing more but to be with him.