Page 42 of The Boy from Half Moon

I’d gone and done it now. Giving a single inch to Alec was probably a massive mistake. From what Tyler had told me, Alec was persistent, and I’d accepted an evening out for a charity event that he’d called a date. A last-minute date, but still.

As bad as my decision was, I thought about Luke and felt a warmth I hadn’t recognized having in a very long time. I wasn’t just wildly attracted to Luke, but I felt a protective feeling toward him. He seemed lost in a world that didn’t understand him. Like he needed an ally, and I wanted to be that person for him.

“How though?” I mumbled.

What would Luke’s life be like in a world that didn’t see him as a whole person, but rather some kooky religious nut? Worse than that? How would his known world view him when they learned he thought he was homosexual? Certainly, that identity wouldn’t mesh with his life on the ranch.

My nerves seized when another thought arrived in my mind. What would my world be like with Luke in it?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Luke

I looked at my mother, stunned at what had just happened. “What was that all about?” I asked, rushing to the door of our small dorm apartment and checking the hallway for my brother.

“David!” I yelled down the hall. David had pushed the double doors open a second before, leaving the building in a hurry.

“He’s been like that for the past two weeks, son,” Ma said, clutching her neckline and appearing to be at wit’s end. “You’re so busy in Bend these days that you don’t check in with him enough. He needs his older brother, Luke.”

“And I need a work skill, Ma.”

I knew not to sass my mother. I was basically the head of our household now, but I also preferred being respectful of her role in our family. With me nineteen, going on twenty, and David at fourteen, her boys were practically men. I disliked that David was growing up as much as she did. My fears for his safety were a bit more serious, but I understood hers.

“You need to be on top of your brother as well as develop a work skill. Without your father here, that is your role now. David sulks, he’s unhappy, and he doesn’t want to listen to me anymore, Luke,” she pointed out. “He runs off to God knows where, leaving chores undone, and that’s not like him. David respects and adores you, son. So please go after him and sort this out.”

As much as I wanted to sleep after a long day at work, I knew she wouldn’t let up until I went after my little brother. I had a hunch where he might be headed, but I’d check the barn first since it was closer to the dorm building.

The evening was incredible as I made my way across the wide swath of lawn, kept green because Franklin insisted, even in dry conditions like Central Oregon had. The air was cool and refreshing, a slight breeze coming up the hill from the large pond below me, near the wall, and the graveled road just beyond that. I loved the peace of the ranch and the beauty that surrounded me. As hard as life was since my father died, I knew I’d miss parts of my life here if I ever decided to leave.

After not finding David in the barn, I headed to the south side of the ranch and a tree line that grew there. When David was around six, Pa and the two of us built a tree house we liked to hide away in. Some nights, when Pa allowed, we camped overnight in it, tucked away twenty feet high, and hidden by leaves and branches.

To David, a small boy with a big imagination, our overnighters were one of his favorite things. Unfortunately, when I turned sixteen, the childhood fun halted. Children in our community all had chores, but sixteen denoted adulthood, and larger responsibilities than cleaning your bedroom or helping with dishes came with the age.

I threw a rock and hit the side of the treehouse. Nothing. I wanted to avoid climbing the suspect ladder we’d nailed to the tree trunk years before, but it looked like David was staying silent.

“I’m coming up,” I hollered. “I’d appreciate it if you came down instead, though.”

His silence meant I’d be climbing. I pulled my boots off and started up.

“Go away, Luke,” he yelled. “I don’t want you in my fort.” Not such a grownup after all.

“Lift the hatch, David, or I’ll smash it in. Your choice.”

I heard him mumbling above me as he shuffled across the floor. Two seconds later, the hatch opened. He slid back and away from the opening, apparently unwilling to lend me a hand. I gripped the edges of the opening and lifted myself into the small space.

Once my eyes adjusted to the dim interior, I noticed food, water bottles, several items of clothing, and a shotgun. The rules were that our firearms were kept under lock and key in the compound, so he had some explaining to do. I recognized the hidden panel in the floor that we’d cleverly designed, was open, wondering if he’d been hiding the shotgun there instead of where it should be.

Half Moon Ranch and its inhabitants were gun owners. Gun rights and the right to bear arms were one area where Franklin agreed with the government. In Central Oregon, gun ownership and conservative points of view were common, but not so much on the west side of the state. Cities like Portland seemed to think we were a bunch of outlaws and haters on the east side of the Cascade Mountains.

I didn’t pay no mind to what people in government were up to, but had my own shotgun at age twelve, like all boys in the compound. We were encouraged to hunt to provide for our families. However, we had one rule. Guns were under lock and key and kept secure. No exceptions.

“Whatta you want?” he muttered, as disrespectful as I’ve ever heard him be. “You don’t even like this place like you used to.”

I moved out of the way and replaced the hatch. “I have to work full time now, and you know it,” I replied.

David glared at me. An ugly expression that I wasn’t used to seeing on him. “You wouldn’t hang out even if you didn’t.”

I glanced at his shotgun. “And that?” I asked. “You know the rules, David. Just more rule-breaking. Is that your thing now?”

“Stupid rules,” he argued. “I don’t care about rules anymore or anyone in this dumb place.”

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