The Luna He Failed to Protect novel · Chapter 20 of 32

Chapter 20: Moon Court

Cale went down the three steps to his father.

He stood level with him in the rain, outside the umbrella, and let it pour on him.

"Then I'm not," he said.

Alder's face didn't move.

"You'll lose the house."

"I've already lost the ring."

"You'll lose the pack."

"No, sir. I'll lose you." Cale's voice was very quiet. "I'm sorry. I'd rather not. But I've been your son for twenty-seven years, and you sent seven of ours to a hill and called it law."

Alder looked at him for a long time.

Then he turned and let the driver help him back down to the car.

He didn't look back once.

The car went away down the hill in the rain.

Cale didn't watch it go.

He watched me.

That night he slept in his truck.

He parked it at the Vardy gate, outside the fence, because I'd never said he could come in.

He slept there the next night too, and the one after.

The squad brought him stew.

The cook made a point of serving it to him in the old pot.

On the last night before the moon, it rained again.

I lay on the floor of the good room listening to it drum on the truck roof out by the gate.

I lay there an hour.

Then I got up and went out barefoot through the wet grass and knocked on his window.

He sat up so fast he hit his head on the cab roof.

He rolled the window down.

"Come inside," I said.

He didn't move.

"Sorrel."

"Not for that. Come in and lie down next to me and sleep. That's all."

"That's all," he said.

"Can you do that?"

"I've done harder things this month."

He followed me in.

The squad was asleep in their heap.

Edda opened one eye, saw who it was, and closed it again.

I lay down on my blanket by the cold hearth, and he lay down beside me on the bare boards, not touching.

I reached over and took his hand.

The blisters were scabbed over now.

I held it against my chest, under my chin, the way I used to hold my father's field book on the truck.

He lay so still I thought he'd stopped breathing.

"Go to sleep," I said.

"I can't. You're holding my hand."

"Try."

He did.

I heard it happen.

His breathing went long and slow and his fingers went loose in mine.

I didn't dream about the lock.

I woke up at dawn with my face against his shoulder and his hand still in mine, exactly where I'd put it.

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