“I open the back door of my car for Ginger to buckle the baby in.She smiles and goes to it. I spin around and I'm face-to-facewith Logan Kilgore.“Hey, good lookin',” he says, leaning against my door to blockmy path.“What do you want?” I ask, cracking a slight smile as I wait.He's wearing a dirty, Auburn Football t-shirt, worn out jeansand the same bedraggled baseball cap he always wears. His hairis sticking out just around the edges of the cap in messy twigsand the occasional curl. His curious eyes are dancing aroundlike maybe he's in a very good mood. Despite the obvious, he'skind of beautiful, a little.“Not a thing,” he tells me before turning to walk away. “...wasjust passing through, wanted to say hello. See you.”I watch him amble away. Ginger shuts Chucky in and opens thedoor across from mine. She stops before getting in to look up atLogan too.“He's kind of charming,” she tells me, giggling a little.“No offense, but you thought Doug was charming,” I tell her,skeptically.“Good point,” she agrees, before getting into the car.”

“Two minutes into the dance, I'm sitting in a metal chair in thedark, listening to a really annoying Justin Bieber song blaringover the crackling speakers. The song changes. Everyone startsto pair off. I look over at him. He's looking around. Please, Jesusdon't let him ask me to dance.“Hey,” he says. “You wanna...”“No,” I interrupt.I catch him chuckling out of the corner of my eyes. This danceis really stupid. I'm over it. Before I can finish my thought, he'sstanding up. I look him over.“Come on,” he says, tugging at my hand. “Lets get out of here.”

“Luce," he said at last, his voice soft. "what do you want me to do?" He paused, waiting for my response, but I wasn't sure what he was asking, so no response came. "Please, just tell me," he continued. "Tell me what you want me to say, and do, when it comes to Adriana or any other girl that looks my way, and I'll do it. You want me to fire a spit wad between their eyes? So be it. You want me to flip them off any time any one of them looks my way? You got it. You want me to poke my eyes out so I can't see another one of their suggestive smiles again?" he trailed on, half of his face squishing together. "Well, that would suck, but I'd do it. For you." Cradling my face in his hands again, he leaned forward so his eyes were staring into mine from half a foot away. "Just tell me, baby. What do you want me to do?”

“Feeling suddenly slightly liberated and relaxed, I looked over athim. His eyes fixed on the seat in front of him. His hands werein his lap, fingers dancing around in the air as if he was anxious.“I know I love you because even when you just punched me inmy stomach…and by the way, that hurt” he stopped and smiledat me. “I wanted to kiss you.”As soon as the words left his lips, my mouth popped open. Mycheeks were hot. The kid in front of us was grinning. He lockedhis eyes on me and waited for my response. Nosy little kid.”

“Do you know what it was like kissing Holly and looking up to see you?""What?""You said to begin anywhere."But I hadn't expected that as a beginning, middle or end. I felt my cheeks getting warm. "I guess it was pretty embarrassing for both of us," I said, and walked ahead of him so he wouldn't see my face. "I know, I just kept staring at you.""What were you thinking?""I don't remember.""Don't you start using that line," he chided."Then don't ask me, Nick." Did he suspect how I felt.He caught me and turned me around to face him. I focused on his shirt. "Okay," he said quietly, "I'll tell you what I was thinking. I couldn't believe that I, who was never going to get hooked, had fallen in love with a girl who didn't want to date, and she was watching me kiss somebody else."I glanced up."Your turn, brave girl. What were you thinking?""That Holly looked beautiful in your arms and that you didn't pull away from her the way you had pulled away from me when I kissed you."He drew me to him. "I'm not pulling away again," he said holding me close.”

“Look back at history,” he said, after a minute or two. “Mostgreat and remarkable men weren't tame or politically correct.They were raving loonies. They acted out. Heroes are badasses,not alter-boys.”“You don't think Jesus was a hero?” I asked.“Jesus was the bad-ass,” he said, chuckling a little. “...talkabout somebody knowing how to make some noise.”Nick confused me. Half the time what he said soundedcompletely hypocritical. The other half of the time, what he saidsounded completely insane. He always had an opinion though,no matter how nonsensical it was to me. I admired that abouthim.“You think Jesus would throw a book at someone?” I asked,before I could stop myself.His eyes popped open. I dropped my pen again. He sat upstraight and focused his eyes on me.“I'm not Jesus,” he said simply.No kidding.”

“Right now he needed to concentrate on keeping himself under control. Inside, his gut churned. There was a war going on. The joy of holding his son again clashed with the waves of anger that rose higher and higher with each passing moment. He thought he had known why Pete had arrived at the farm. He had pushed the fork into the soil and watched the earth turn over sure that the truth of their tragedy was about to be laid before them. He had watched the dry earth give up the rich brown soil and wanted to stay there forever in the cold garden just watching his fork move the earth. He had not wanted to hear what Pete had to say. And now this..this..What did you call this? A miracle? What else could it be? But this miracle was tainted. He was not holding the same boy he had taken to the Easter Show. This thin child with shaved hair was not the Lockie he knew. Someone had taken that child. They had taken his child and he could feel by the weight of him they had starved him. Someone had done this to him. They had done this and god knew what else. Doug walked slowly into the house, trying to find the right way to break the news to Sarah. She was lying down in the bedroom again. These days she spent more time there than anywhere else. Doug walked slowly through the house to the main bedroom at the back. It was the only room in the house whose curtains were permanently closed. How damaged was his child? Would he ever be the same boy they had taken up to the Show ? What had been done to him? Dear God, what had been done to him? His ribs stuck out even under the jumper he was wearing. It was not his jumper. He had been dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, perfect for the warm day. He had a cap with a Bulldogs logo. What could have happened to his clothes? How long had he had the jumper?Doug bit his lip. First things first.He opened the bedroom door cautiously and looked into the gloom. Sarah was on her back. Her mouth was slightly open. She was fast asleep. The room smelled musty with the heater on. Sarah slept tightly wrapped in her covers. Doug swallowed. He wanted to run into the room whooping and shouting that Lockie was home but Sarah was so fragile he had no idea how she would react. He walked over to the window and opened the curtains. Outside it was getting dark already but enough light entered the room to wake Sarah up. She moaned and opened her eyes.‘Oh god, Doug, please just close them. I’m so tired.’Doug sat down on the bed and Sarah turned her back to him. She had not looked at him. Lockie opened his eyes and looked around the room.‘Ready to say hello to Mum, mate?’ Doug asked.‘Hi, Mum,’ said Lockie to his mother’s back. His voice had changed. It was deeper and had an edge to it. He sounded older. He sounded like someone who had seen too much. But Sarah would know it was her boy.Doug saw Sarah’s whole body tense at the sound of Lockie’s voice and then she reached her arm behind her and twisted the skin on her back with such force Doug knew she would have left a mark.‘It’s not a dream, Sarah,’ he said quietly. ‘He’s home.’Sarah sat up, her eyes wide.‘Hi, Mum,’ said Lockie again.‘Hello, my boy,’ said Sarah softly. Softly, as though he hadn’t been missing for four months. Softly, as though he had just been away for a day. Softly, as though she hadn’t been trying to die slowly. Softly she said, ‘Hello, my boy.’Doug could see her chest heaving.‘We’ve been looking for you,’ she said, and then she held out her arms. Lockie climbed off Doug’s lap and onto his mother’s legs. She wrapped her arms around him and pushed her nose into his neck, finding his scent and identifying her child. Lockie buried his head against her breasts and then he began to cry. Just soft little sobs that were soon matched by his mother’s tears. Doug wanted them to stop but tears were good. He would have to get used to tears.”