Page 73 of The Boy from Half Moon

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.

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