Last Revised: 9/21/09

Chapter Seven

“Luke, make sure Ben gets down to the Ramshorn on time, will you? I’d hate for him to not get the job because he got lost on one of the old logging spurs.”

“I won’t get lost,” Ben retorted. “I’ve been here long enough and driven up and down this mountainside enough times.”

“Luke?”

Luke laughed when Ben growled at June’s playful lack of faith in his navigational skills and earned himself a rather dirty look.

“I’ll make sure he gets there,” he replied and flopped on the longer of the two couches with his math book and notebook. The sooner he finished what little homework he had tonight, the more of the evening he’d have left to enjoy.

“All right, boys, I’m off,” June said as she jerked her helmet down on her head. “See you at the lodge at seven, Ben?”

“Seven sharp,” Ben affirmed.

“You’re sure you’ll be all right by yourselves?”

“We’ll be fine, June.”

Luke felt her eyes on her and looked up to meet her gaze. The jolt of gratitude for the concern in her expression was something he’d felt more times than he could count in the last five years. This was the first time he and Ben would be alone together and he was a little nervous June’s friend would want to talk about pieces of the past Luke had no inclination to discuss. June knew his fears as if she could read his mind and was worried about how they affected his peace of mind. It never ceased to amaze him that she could love him so much and he hoped he’d never take it for granted. He smiled reasuringly and wondered, as he always did, how he’d gotten so lucky.

“See you at seven, mom,” he said when she seemed hesitant to leave.

At last, she nodded and headed out the door. Luke waited until he heard the buzz of her dirt bike fade away into silence before he turned his attention to his books.

While Luke worked on his homework, Ben puttered around the house. Occasionally, Luke would glance up and listen for a moment, hear Ben playing outside with the dogs, and go back to his studies. Maybe Ben wasn’t any more inclined to bring up the tender subject of Luke’s father than Luke was. If not tonight, the topic would be broached sooner or later. He was sure of it. And it was probably best that they got it out in the open, but Luke just wasn’t ready to talk about it. Not yet. Not when he hadn’t even told June about his father’s darker secrets. He was sure she knew the truth––Uncle Bill was sure to have reached certain conclusions and June wasn’t stupid by the stretch of anyone’s imagination––but it didn’t seem right to not air it out with her first after all she’d done for him.

And if Ben wanted to talk about John McKindel, it would be aired out. There was simply no other way to convince the man that what he’d done really had given Luke a better life. Luke genuinely liked Ben and was of the opinion he didn’t deserve to suffer for an hour over what had happened, let alone half a decade. Though he couldn’t empathize with shooting someone, he understood that taking a life was bound to leave a mark. He was also aware, after getting to know Ben, that killing John McKindel was only drop in the bucket of guilt he’d been lugging around.

“If I keep thinking like this, I’ll never get my homework done,” Luke muttered and determinedly refocused his attention.

Once he forced himself to concentrate, he finished quickly. Stowing his book and notebook in his backpack for tomorrow, he stood and looked around the cabin for something to do. It was only a quarter to six, but that didn’t really give him enough time to go for much of a ride on his dirt bike. He might’ve been inclined to chop wood, but they’d already chopped everything that had been cut to length. So, he grabbed the big jar of peanuts by the back door and went outside to feed the chipmunks.

Ben was throwing a ball for Casey and Cheyenne behind the cabin and turned to smile a greeting when the screen door slammed behind Luke. Luke returned the gesture and plopped on the steps of the deck. Even with two big dogs running around, the chipmunks were quick to realize it was snack time. Within minutes, he had five of the larger variety and at least eight of their smaller cousins skittering around him, chirping and squeaking for dinner.

As he fed the friendly little rodents, he took the chance to appreciate his home. The evening sunlight was golden and tinted the forest around the cabin. The greens of the lodgepole pines and the delicate, alpine grass were fiery, if green could be described in such a way. The browns were more brilliant as well and the first tentative spears of purple lupine glowed. Why would anyone want to live in a city when they could have this? Smog dulled the colors, but up here, where the air was so fresh and clear that it seemed to have the sharpness of a razor blade, color was as it should be, vibrant and undimmed.

And the smells… Luke’s favorite smell, without a doubt, was the fresh, clean scent of the woods around the cabin. It was a cool, refreshing smell, infused with more than just the fragrance of the pines. There was also a hint of sagebrush in the air and an underlying spice of hay, livestock and earth. He drew it deep into his lungs and sighed contendedly. Yep. Definitely his favorite smell in the world.

“You finished your homework already?” Ben asked. He sat beside Luke on the porch step.

“I didn’t have much to do.”

“Ah.”

Since it appeared Ben was in Northstar to stay, Luke hoped their conversations would improve soon. The silences between them were awkward with a long way to go before they became even remotely comfortable. He glanced at the older man and found his companion staring with unfocused eyes in the direction of the dogs, who he had apparently managed to wear out. Both golden retrievers were sprawled in the shade a few yards away panting heavily with their tongues lolling out.

“I didn’t know that was possible,” Luke remarked, inclining his head at the exhausted dogs.

Ben gave a sniff of laughter and, for a moment, the tension left his face. “Neither did I.”

One brief, meaningless exchange and the conversation crumbled again. Luke dug into the jar of peanuts and tossed a handful to the horde of waiting chipmunks. A couple that were brave enough to dare the deck were rewarded with shelled peanuts out of his hand. Luke nearly laughed when one skittered over Casey’s legs in its hurry to take a mouthful of nuts to its stash. The dog barely lifted his head to see what had interupted his nap, but it was enough to make the little rodent chitter in angry surprise. With a grunt, Casey decided to ignore the animal’s string of insults and flopped back down. After a few more moments of chirping and tail-twitching, the chipmunk bounded off.

A heavy sigh pulled Luke’s attention back to Ben. Whatever was on the man’s mind was no small thing and, as much as Luke dreaded what it might be, the tension between them was beginning to wear on his nerves. Sometimes it was best to just get it out. Whether or not either of them would be able to do it properly… they’d find out when they got there.

“You know, Ben, no matter how hard you stare at that log, it won’t be able to help you figure out whatever’s bugging you. Inanimate ojects aren’t properly equiped for problem-solving.”

“Sometimes I really wish they were. It’d be easier.”

“And what idiot ever said life was easy?”

“Do you have any idea how much you sound like June when you say things like that?” Ben asked, finally meeting Luke’s gaze. There was amusement mixed in with the strain in his gray eyes.

“I’m sure I sound a lot like her. Can’t spend five years with her without having something rub off. She always knows what to say.”

“And always has.” Ben cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh. That’s dangerous.”

This time, Ben laughed. “Now you’re starting to sound like Aeli.”

“She’s pretty infectious, too.” Without pausing too long to ponder the consequenses, Luke asked, “But tell me, what have you been thinking about?”

“Something June said this weekend. I was curious enough that I asked my sister when I dropped Becky off. I’ll admit that I’m sometimes more curious than I should be, but I can’t help myself. Anyhow, Jane told me Carol lives in Devyn with her uncle’s mother. She also told me why. It made it much easier to see what the two of you might have in common, because from what I saw… I couldn’t see much. Don’t get me wrong, Luke, and please don’t think I’m prying. She seems like a really nice girl. And I was sixteen once, so I know at least one reason why you’re interested. She’s good-looking.”

Luke forced a smile at Ben’s attempt to lighten the conversation. This wasn’t what he’d expected, but the wrong word could push the conversation into dangerous territory. “Yeah, she is. But she’s got a good heart, too. And I can imagine what Mom had to say that would make you curious.”

“She thinks Carol might up and break your heart like she broke her last boyfriend’s. Which again makes me curious. How did you two end up dating in the first place? You seem like the kind of person who’d be bothered by how she… broke up with her old boyfriend.”

“Well, I didn’t know what happened until after she’d asked me out the second time. It bothered me a little when I first found out, but she’d apologized to Mike and he was okay with that.”

“She asked you out? Twice?”
Luke nodded. “I turned her down the first time. It was only two weeks after she and Mike broke up. I mean, c’mon. Mike Thompson’s an all-star quarterback and at the time, he was a lot bigger than me.” Mike’s size hadn’t played much of a role in his decision to tell Carol no, but it was a good point to use to difuse some of the tension. Ben seemed to appreciate it, because he chuckled. “Plus, I actually like him. We’re not really friends, but we get along pretty well and you just don’t screw your teammate like that. Not if you want to go to the state championship again.”

“You play football? Any good?” Ben asked. There was a faint challenge in his voice.

“Good enough that I was nominated for the all-star award my sophomore year and awarded it this year.”

“Wow. I played, but I was just okay. I was better at soccer.”

“I like soccer, but it’s not very popular out here.”

“So, you turned Carol down.”

“Yeah. But then Mike told me it was cool between them and that if I wanted to date her, he wouldn’t mind. He had a new girlfriend by then, so I thought, why not? I liked her.”

“And you had a rather unusual fact in common.”

Luke silently begged Ben not to say it.

“You both lost a parent around the same age.”

Dammit, Luke thought. “Technically, I’d lost two by that age. My mother overdosed when I was five after my little brother died from a heart deffect no one knew about. It was nice to have someone to relate to, but that’s not why Carol and I get along so well. Once you get to know her, there’s a lot more to like than you might think. It just takes her a while to open up. The people she should have been able to trust and count on left her. Her father killed himself and her mother ran off with some globe-trotting writer-photgrapher.”

“At least she had family left. You didn’t.”

“And I think I’m better off for that,” Luke replied. He clenched his jaw, wincing when his teeth ground together. “I have June.”

“That’s what Jane said. And I’ll agree that June is an incredible woman. But, good god, Luke, I know it must’ve been horrible to be ripped away from your father like that. He was your father.”

Luke thought he was going to be sick. Just the mention of his father sent chills through his entire body and set nausea to bubbling. Without a word, he stood and walked away, leaving Ben to stare after him in utter confusion. He could feel the man’s gaze boaring into his back like rods of ice-cold steel.

“Luke! Wait!”

“Leave me alone, Ben!” he called back without turning around. “Just let me go!”

He had to go somewhere. Anywhere. He just needed to walk it off or ride it off. He needed to be alone. To think or to clear his head of all thought. He strode around the cabin, opened the front door and grabbed his motorcycle helmet and the key to his dirt bike. He’d go for a ride, maybe down into the sheep field or up toward Comet Ridge Road. Or maybe he’d take the logging road just below the gate and stop at the switch back to stare out over the valley. It didn’t matter where he went, as long as he got away, as if he could actually leave his father behind simply by hopping on his bike.

His hands shook when he inserted the key into the ignition. The sight of his trembling fingers nearly undid him. He was sixteen, for god’s sake! He wasn’t twelve anymore. There were nearly five years and seven hundred miles between him and his father. With anger and fear boiling together in a vicious acid in his stomach, he slammed his foot down on the kick-start and the dirt bike snarled to life. Jamming his helmet on his head, he sped off down the driveway, going faster than was smart around the switchbacks.

Before he knew it, he was on the logging road and slowing down at the overlook. He killed the bike, put the kickstand down and walked over to a rock beyond the edge of the road. Sitting heavily, he dropped his head on to his knees and bellowed into the fabric of his jeans. Why had he been stupid enough to get into a conversation that could so easily turn the way it had? And why the hell did the memories of his father still have so much power over him? John McKindel had been dead for almost half a decade and yet he seemed determined to haunt his son and try to destroy the happiness Luke had found since that night in Seattle.

None of his anger was directed at Ben. He wished he could tell him that. But he couldn’t, not without telling him why. And, obviously, he still wasn’t able to do that.

With tension aching in his shoulders, Luke forced his breathing to slow and regulate. Hysteria never solved anything. All it did was give him a headache. So, he lifted his head and focused his gaze on the land below him. The Northstar Valley widened as it swept southward, bordered to his left by the east Northstar Mountains. The foothills and ridges and the lower west Northstars to his right were thickly blanketed with lodgepole pine and the occasional groves of quaking aspen. Snaking its way through the center of the valley and bordered by a patchwork of ranches, hayfields and acres of rolling sagebrush flats was the Northstar Creek. Its path and those of its tributaries were easily traceable by the willows that crowded the year-round sources of water.

How long he stared down ar the valley, he didn’t know, but it didn’t seem like very long before he heard the quiet rumble of a truck heading down the mountain. He glanced over his shoulder, not that he could see who it was through the trees. It had to be Ben, on his way to his interview at the Ramshorn. Luke was glad Ben hadn’t decided to try to find him first, but he was also ashamed because he knew June would worry about him. Maybe he should head back to the cabin and call her to let her know he was okay before Ben told her what had happened. That he was fine––at least emotionally––was a lie and June would see through it, but he should tell her he was otherwise whole and unharmed.

The sound of June’s voice on the other end of the line sent a rush of serenity through him. Since the caller ID showed who was calling, she didn’t bother with the Ramshorn’s greeting.

“Please tell me Ben is on his way down here,” she said.

“Don’t worry. He is. He should be there in a few.” He tried to keep his voice light, but even to his ears, he sounded tired.

“Why are you still home?” June asked, a note of concern in her voice.

“I, uh, had to go for a ride. Ben and I got into a conversation that wasn’t very comfortable for me.”

“Oh, honey. Are you all right?”

“I’m getting there. I’ll be fine, Mom. I just wanted to call you so you wouldn’t worry when Ben got there and told you I took off on my bike.”

“I’m glad you did. Go relax. And I’ll see you at ten.”

“Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too, Luke.”

Since the evening was pretty well shot, Luke fixed himself dinner, read for a little while and went to bed early. He stared out the window at the darkening sky, dreading the night to come. Even before his eyes drifted closed, he felt it coming. The old nightmare slipped into his mind like a wraith, as cold and stealthy as an icy fog. Before he knew it, he was wrapped in its grip and powerless to stop it. The last five years peeled away and he was eleven years old again, and back in Seattle in that small, dingy appartment…

“Come here, you worthless little rat!” John McKindel bellowed. His words were slurred and the stench of alcohol hung on him like a second, sickening skin. “You little chicken shit."

Luke cowered in the corner, shielding his eyes from the sight of his father. He didn’t want to see the leather belt curled around John’s fist or see his father’s face contorted by rage and something close to thrill. Luke yelped as the leather belt snapped on his skin. He pushed himself farther into the corner, pressing his small body hard against the wall, trying to escape his father’s wrath. He searched frantically to remember what he’d done this time, but, as usual, couldn’t think of anything. The belt came down on him again and again. He lost track of how many times it bit him. He just made himself as small as he could and simply endured the beating. One lash cracked against his ear and he cried out in pain.

“Stop!” young Luke screamed.

Luke snapped awake and sat up. The blankets were tangled around his legs and his skin was damp with sweat. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear the rapid thudding and his chest heaved as he panted with remembered fear and pain. For a moment, he was disoriented, caught between the past and the present. Outside his window, the sky was glowing brilliantly with millions of stars. There were too many glittering in that stunning blue-black arch to be Seattle’s light-polluted sky. He wasn’t in Seattle. He was in Montana.

Across the room, Ben was sitting up and leaning against the headboard of his bed. He was staring at Luke with concern. Luke couldn’t remember hearing him or June come home and wondered how late it was. Ben had obviously been asleep, because his eyes were slanted as if he’d just woken up. Luke’s whimpers must have been loud enough to wake him. He flipped his damp hair out of his face and looked back out the window, still quivering with terror.

Ben walked over to the window and opened it, then returned to his bed. “What was it about?” he asked in a soothing voice.

Luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Could he really tell someone the truth about his father? He hadn't even told June. Could he tell Ben, barely more than a stranger to him, that his father had abused him? He had to tell someone. He couldn’t keep the secret locked inside anymore. It wasn’t healthy.

“My father… used to go down to the bar down the street from our house and get drunk,” he started.

“I know.”

“He was a pretty heavy drinker.”

“I know. He had robbed a liquor store when we caught up to him. Luke, he wouldn’t be dead if he hadn’t pulled a gun on us. I only shot in self defense. I didn’t mean to take him away from you,” Ben explained.

“I don’t care. All I know is that I got away from him. He would get drunk,” Luke continued, feeling dazed and lost. “He would get drunk and then come home. He beat me when he got drunk. He’d take his leather belt to me. If he couldn’t find it, he’d lay into me with his fists. I always believed him when he told me I deserved it. I always thought that I wasn’t good enough for him, that I had done something to deserve it, but I could never remember what I’d done.” As he spoke, Luke stared at the foot of his bed with unfocused eyes. “He always told me I was stupid and that my mother should have suffocated me when I was born. I would cry myself to sleep, wishing I could go to sleep and never wake up. If I was dead I wouldn’t have to feel like a failure. And that’s how I felt. I was sure I had failed him as a son. I thought that maybe if I worked harder, stayed quiet and minded my behavior, he would stop. But he didn’t. I couldn’t even tell June.”

By now, tears were sliding down his face. Luke didn’t care. He saw Ben’s stunned expression with blurry eyes. The man’s thoughts were written plainly on his face.

How could any man do that to his son, his own flesh and blood?

“Now I understand.” Ben shook his head. His expression slid from shock to anger. “What a low-life, piece of shit.”

Luke pulled his knees up to his chest, folded his arms around his legs and cried silently. The fear, the pain and the shame he’d felt for so much of his young life eddied and flowed through him like a restless, murky tide. He wanted June to hold him and chase it all away like she always did, but he couldn’t find his voice to call out for her. And even if he could, what would he see in her eyes? Pity? Anything but that. He never wanted to see pity in her gaze. The distance that came with it would destroy him.

* * *

Neither of them noticed June standing in the doorway that separated the two bedrooms. She stood with her hand covering her mouth and her eyes wide as she listened to Luke’s story. He had never told her about his father, but she’d always had a guess. The first night he had stayed with her, she had seen the massive, fading bruises on his back and knew he hadn’t fallen down the stairs; there were too many and they were too big to have been caused by a little stumble. And Bill’s wife, Mary, who had watched him for the couple of days after the shooting while Bill cleared everything with the courts, had told her before Luke had even flown to Montana that Bill suspected Luke had been abused.

She stepped quietly across the room and sat down next to her son, pulling him into her arms as if he were a child of six instead of sixteen. He was shaking and crying silently and grabbed a handful of her flannel in his fist. It tore at her heart to know that he’d kept it all to himself because he’d been ashamed.

“Shh,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m here.”

Ben watched them silently. She pulled Luke against her so he was lying with the back of his head resting on her chest. As she combed her fingers through his hair, she lifted her gaze to meet Ben’s. There was anger and disgust burning in his eyes, but not a trace of guilt or shame. Right at that moment, if given the opportunity, June believed he’d gladly kill John McKindel again. Slowly, as Luke’s breathing steadied and he drifted off to sleep, Ben’s face cooled with concern and curiosity.

“You heard everything, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Every word.”

“What a terrible thing to live through.” Ben tilted his head and paused for a moment to study her and Luke. “I think that judge made a wise decision when she entrusted you with Luke’s care. I can’t explain what I just saw. All you did was hold him and he calmed down. Tell me about him. I want to know. I need to know.”

June inhaled deeply, drawing the cool night air into her lungs to settle her emotions. “When he first came to me, Luke wouldn’t talk about his father or his old life other than he liked science. At night, I would hear him crying and I would come in and talk to him. It helped, but not enough. Luke is quite sensitive to his surroundings and I found that gestures spoke louder than words. He would never tell me exactly what was giving him these nightmares, but he didn’t have to. I knew from the bruises on him when he first got here. I don’t think he’s had a nightmare about his father in at least two years. I guess having you here dredged up the past. Meeting the man who shot his father made him think of his father’s favorite pastimes, and as you just heard, they weren’t nice ones.”

She paused and took another deep breath. “When he first got here, he was really small.”

Ben nodded. “I remember. I remember seeing him in Bill’s office and thinking he was so tiny and fragile. He didn’t look like he was twelve. More like eight.”

“From what Bill told me and what was on his school records, I found out that he was not a very healthy child. He was always missing school because he was sick. Or at least that’s what his records said. There weren’t any medical records to back it up. One thing I found, a few months before the night of the shooting, he went to the hospital to get stitches. Twelve of them.” She lifted up the boy’s blond hair and an inch above his right ear was a long scar, clearly visible in the starlight. She traced it with her finger. “I couldn’t find any specific reason for it. What I find odd is that when he went in, he also had a bloody lip along with the cut. Bill told me that on that same night, John McKindel went into the hospital with Luke. He had a dislocated shoulder, a broken tooth and a couple of bruises. My guess would be that Luke got the cut from his father, presumably with a belt buckle since he mentioned a belt, and he tried to fight back.”

“Sounds logical.”

She shrugged, kissing Luke’s forehead when he shifted in his sleep.

“What do you remember about that night? About John McKindel?”

“I don’t remember a lot other than shooting him. And I remember seeing Luke at the station. I really remember that. The rest of it…. I was really torn up. I know Bill told me about him, but I don’t remember much of what he told me. Only about Luke being his son. And being an orphan because of what I’d done.”

“It never occurred to you to ask why John McKindel had a gun on him? Or why he’d be stupid enough to use it?”

Ben frowned, shook his head. “I was too screwed up to think of anything past what I’d done.”

“He was high. Bill had a rather long list of drugs they found in his system. That’s what Luke knew until that night. Abuse, alcohol and drugs. Not a happy picture, is it?”

“No. It’s not. You really understand him, don’t you?” Ben inquired softly.

“We understand each other.” She carefully slid out from under Luke, straightened the blankets and stood. “Do you understand now why you shouldn’t regret what you did?”

Ben nodded slowly, smirking with what June thought looked like self-contempt. “It makes it easier, knowing I didn’t kill a winner of the Father of the Year award.”

“Luke is happy here, Ben. And I don’t think happiness was an emotion he knew much about until he left Seattle.”

“No, I suppose not. Jane’s right, then. Luke wasn’t afraid of being torn away from everything he knew. He was afraid of what he knew.”

“Exactly. What you did wasn’t so bad, Ben. What you did might well have saved his life. So, the next time you start thinking about how horrible a person you are for killing a man, maybe you should consider instead what good came of it. And, I can tell you, Ben, a lot of good came from it. And not just for Luke. My life has been so much better for having him in it. I may not have given birth to him, but he is my son.”

Ben’s eyes glittered with relief and gratitude and June decided he was truly beginning to heal. Nearly five years of thinking he was a monster was going to be a hard habit to break, but he would break it.

“He’s sleeping now, so I’m going back to bed,” June said and returned to her room without waiting for his response.

As she slid under the covers of her bed, June allowed herself to give in to her emotions. She’d been strong for them both when they needed her, but now she had to let it out. Even she couldn’t make everyone else’s anquish go away without feeling the effects. She curled into a ball and cried. Her tears were for the pain Luke had endured and kept to himself, for the guilt Ben had mired himself needlessly in for so long and for the untarnished peace she knew could now begin to weave around them all.