by: Sarah Stodola

 

“O-kay, turn ’im left. U-turn right! Back up and spin around to face me. Whoa!”

Luke smiled as Cooter barked the final order and held both hands up as if to stop a running horse. The smile broadened as a blond head poked out of the driver’s side window of the orange racer, quickly and agilely followed by the rest of a slim teenager.

“Okay?” Bo called to him, sitting on the door. Luke gave him a thumbs up from his seat in the shade on top of an old cold box.

“Great! More than okay! You did great!”

The blond boy thrust one fist into the air victoriously. “Yee-haaa!”

Luke grinned again. He was proud of his younger cousin, yet again. He was learning so quickly, doing so well, that the older Duke often forgot he didn’t yet have a license. Which he had to have before the end of August, on his sixteenth birthday. It had been decided that he would drive the summer’s-end race. The younger boy was both nervous and ecstatic at the thought.

Luke sighed, wincing as he moved his leg through an uncomfortable angle. He would be unable to drive with a broken foot. He’d been lucky, he knew. He could have lost it; traps were nothing to play around with. He’d be good as new in time. But he was definitely out of the race.

He was out of most everything else, too, unable to walk without help from Bo or a crutch. He hated it, but he kept himself from anger every day by staying thankful that his foot was only broken, and would mend. Bo threw his heart into doing as much work around the farm as he could, but the teenager couldn’t do it alone, and Luke had turned to this race as their last chance. Cooter had been willing, generously promising to let them have every penny of whatever prize money the General Lee picked up. The mechanic was still hoping to sell the car afterwards himself, though he joked about having to repaint it so it wouldn’t hurt potential buyers’ eyes. And Luke was faced with a difficult choice. Fight to keep the struggling farm going, or buy the car both he and Bo had learned to love and try again to start the farm next year.

He would almost choose the second; the farm was in enough trouble right now that he might as well sell off the livestock for winter cash and then start over come spring. But Duke stubbornness wouldn’t let him give up, at least not yet. “You’re some driver, lit- uh, cousin,” he said, grinning as Bo came over and he handed his younger cousin a bottle of Coke out of the half of the cold box he wasn’t sitting on. He was trying hard to stop calling him ‘little cuz’. The younger Duke was growing up too much for that except for a few occasions when something was wrong and it seemed to make him feel better.

“Thanks!” Dark blue eyes were shining, glowing with joy and excitement. He’d confided numerous times that he couldn’t wait for the race. Luke watched him train every day, Cooter working ground control and the older Duke sometimes riding along to give instructions, and he had to honestly say that he was amazed at Bo’s innate sense for driving. He lit up when he was behind the wheel of that car like he’d never lit up before. While he was in the driver’s seat, he was bold, proud, sure of himself, everything a Duke should be, as though suddenly there was no such thing as an emotional handicap. It gave Luke hope that he might, partially at least, grow out of the condition. It also awed him. Bo Duke was a little kid much of the time, but when he was driving he was free, wild, confident, rarely turning to his older cousin for advice in anything. It was one thing he could do well, really well, and it was starting to change his attitude in other areas of life as well. The teasing, playful side he’d once shown only to his family was starting to shine out toward everyone. People had commented. Luke was proud, yet in a way a little sad, like a parent watching his child grow away from him — though that was hardly the case. Bo still rarely went anywhere that his older cousin didn’t.

“Don’t get too cocky though,” Luke teased, reaching out to run his fingers through the younger boy’s hair.

“Hey!” Bo jumped away and tried to smooth his hair, as though Luke had actually done something that the wind hadn’t already done. The blond waves bounced back into their normal, only semi-tamed state the moment his hand moved away. “Luke!” he protested.

“Bo!” he mimicked, then laughed, holding up his arms in front of his face to protect himself as his younger cousin leapt at him. Both were laughing. Cooter shook his head as he came in, though he was grinning too.

“You two. Luke, you have got one incredible driver in this little cousin of yours.”

“I know.” He moved over and let Bo jump up beside him. “I’ve been watching.”

“I love driving,” the younger Duke grinned.

“I think everybody here knows that,” Cooter smiled, dropping into a folding chair and putting his feet up on a scuffed old desk. This was an old garage, a place that Cooter’s dad had owned before he’d bought the larger facilty in town that the young mechanic had run since his father’s death four years ago. It was near Fairview Crossing where a number of roads came together and created a great track system, it had a large open area in front, and almost nobody came by here anymore. It made the perfect place to test-drive their secret weapon — one General Lee and one young Duke.

Luke looked at his friend. “You think we’re about set for the race?”

Cooter sighed. “As ready as we’re gonna be, I think. Luke, you’re beatin’ a dead horse. Bo jumped yesterday. If he can do that…”

“Coming over a hill at ninety miles an hour and becoming briefly airborne does not mean he jumped,” Luke argued. “Give him a stream and see if he can jump that. Or an obstacle course.”

The mechanic shook his head. “He’s already going to pass the driving exam to get his license. We’ll worry about stunts after that.”

Bo spoke up. “I can’t get my license until the day before the race. I’d better learn everything I have to learn before. Sorry, Cooter,” he half-apologized. “Luke, can you really jump a creek?”

“Sure, or pretty much anything else,” the older Duke shrugged back. “You should be able to too. You’ve got ridge-runner blood in you.”

“How?”

“Well, you get going real fast, of course you have to find a little rise or bump or hill to launch off of, and then just as you hit that you pump the gas, put it to the floor, and fly.” Luke described an arc in the air with his hand. “Course, you gotta land right or the jump’s for nothin’.”

Bo’s eyes were shining. “Could you show me how?”

“Not with this busted foot, I can’t.” At the younger boy’s crestfallen look, he added, “But I could talk you through it.”

**

“Okay. Stay loose, not too tense. You’ll have faster reflexes. Remember what I told you?”

Bo nodded. Luke had been telling him for two hours straight. The information was practically engraved into his head by now. “I got it.”

“Okay.” His older cousin waved at Cooter, who stepped away from the driving area, and settled himself into his seat. “Go for it.”

Bo gripped the wheel and put his foot on the gas. The powerful car leapt forward into the snaking maze of orange cones. The blond Duke narrowed his eyes slightly as he concentrated on following the path without knocking down any of the cones. Uh-oh. He’d got a couple. Better pay attention.

There was no other time he felt so free, so in control, as when he was behind the wheel of this car. He loved it. He knew Luke knew and understood. He felt alive here. He tuned out the rest of the world and made it through the cones, then accelerated out into the open to weave in and out and around old bales of hay, controlling the tail of the car as it slid tightly around each turn, and then after that sped out onto the road for a quick sprint of a half-mile or so.

There was the turn-around point. Bo spun the wheel and stomped on the brakes, and the General’s rear end slid around so that the nose of the car was facing back the way it had come. He stepped on the gas again, hard, and roared back down the road, dirt flying from the rear wheels. There was the rise in the road Luke had pointed out. There, just beyond it, was a black-and-white striped police barricade that Cooter had borrowed, and set up in the last couple of minutes. He let off on the speed a little, glancing over at Luke, and at his cousin’s encouraging nod, grinned tightly and stepped on it. In his head, he heard Luke’s voice telling him again, “Pump the gas, let up, stand on it, go!”

He went.

The racer’s nose rose into the air first, and Bo was pushed back into his seat. Then the rear wheels left the ground, and they were airborne. He gasped and couldn’t keep back a short, nervous, thrilled laugh. This was… It wasn’t just jumping. It was flying! The car leveled out, feeling for a second like it would just keep going without coming down, but then gravity took over. He let out an excited shout as they came back to earth with a jolt. Luke laughed, not at him but with him.

They were still moving incredibly fast. Bo knew what he wanted to do, and narrowed his mind to the one track it was on. His foot came down on the accelerator, sending them shooting forward even faster, then, as he headed straight for Cooter, he put his foot down on the brakes, not all the way but enough to slow them so fast that the rear wheels tried to slip and skid. It took all his concentration to keep the General Lee straight. Very gently, in direct contrast to his previous stunt, he pulled up to the still-frozen mechanic, and barely nudged his legs with the front bumper.

He pulled himself out to sit on the door, and grinned, crossing his arms across the top of the car. Very deliberately, he made a gun shape with his right thumb and forefinger, and fired it at Cooter. “Bang.”

Cooter stared for a moment more, then his face broke open in a wide grin, and he started laughing, shaking his head and putting his hands on his hips. “Guys, I think we have got a race to win.”

Bo turned his head to see his older cousin sitting on his own door. Luke nodded, smiling broadly. “We sure do. We sure do.” The two Duke boys reached across the confederate flag painted on the roof to give each other a high-five, and chorused the last few words.

“Let’s do it!”

**

They were unaware of their audience. Jefferson Davis Hogg dropped his binoculars and scowled over at his two henchmen. That orange car was unlike anything he’d ever seen in his many years of racing, ridge-running, and fencing stolen cars. And it was against him. It might win the big race.

Losing was not an idea Hogg was comfortable with.

“Keep an eye on ’em,” he finally said. “The two boys in the car are cousins, the Dukes. They’re the ones to watch out for. Keep me posted on their activities.”

“Yessir,” one of the pair nodded. The other kept silent.

Hogg turned back to the scene below, bringing the binoculars back up. He watched as the older, dark-haired Duke, Luke, swung out of the passenger side of the car. He limped badly, his blond cousin coming around to support him as they headed back into the old garage. “I don’t like competition.” He glanced at the thugs. “That kid driving is young. They might just pull outta the race yet, so give ’em a couple weeks. But if they don’t, you go an’ explain that they just shouldn’t try for the cup this year.”

The speaker for the two grinned slowly. “Yes, sir!”

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

Luke again was sitting down, this time on an old box that Cooter had scrounged up, watching the General Lee growl sedately to a starting line drawn out in the dirt road ahead. He shifted his weight, wishing for a second that he was in there with the car’s young driver. He would only be a passenger even then, though. His foot was healing amazingly fast, and didn’t even hurt really unless he put too much weight on it. It was better to the point where he could get around, albeit with a bad limp because he had to put most of his weight on his good foot and just balance with the other, but he couldn’t stand for very long. Or drive.

Well, maybe he could… but he wouldn’t try unless absolutely necessary. Besides, this was Bo’s spotlight.

Finally Cooter, standing near the starting line, brought his upraised arm down hard. “Go it!”

Bo grinned, gave a thumbs-up out the window, and hit the gas. Cooter had agreed finally that learning ‘tricks’ could come in handy, as some of the contestants in this race might just forget fair play in order to win. Luke had been watching him carefully, a bit afraid every time the younger boy took a flying leap or pulled a wheelstand, yet proud too. Now, he kept from shouting, only smiled as the General Lee shot off on a drag-race style speed run. With only a week left until the race, it was now time to see just how fast this car could go.

Cooter held himself under no such restrictions, whooping and waving his ballcap in the air. Anna, standing next to where Luke was sitting, grinned quickly down at him, then returned her gaze to the orange racer picking up speed. It flashed past a marker, and Luke looked down and hit a button on the stopwatch he held. He glanced back up to see the car accelerate nearly out of sight, then throw up a cloud of dirt and dust as it skidded around and shot back toward them. When the General went past the marker again, Luke stopped the watch and whistled, low.

“What’s the time?” Cooter asked, jamming his hat back on his head and running up to see. Luke showed him, and the mechanic let out a whoop of joy. “Nine seconds! Nine seconds!”

The car roared up, and Bo scrambled out. “What’s my time?” he called excitedly.

“Nine seconds!” Cooter yelled again.

“We heard you,” Anna raised both eyebrows in mock-annoyance. Then she broke down and smiled over at Bo. “That’s fast.”

“I know.” The blond boy looked almost like he might burst with pride. He looked over at Luke. “I wanna see how far he can leap. Can I?”

“Can you what?” his older cousin asked suspiciously.

Bo turned and pointed to a gulley just within sight. Luke knew that it was wide. Too wide. “Over there,” he said, as though it would be nothing.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut briefly. “No way.”

“Please?”

“Bo…”

“He can do it! I know he can! I can feel it! He has the power!”

“No car has that kind of power, Bo! I ain’t gonna lose you!”

“You won’t! Please?”

“No.” Luke turned away, feeling a little guilty. But he wasn’t going to back down just because his little cousin didn’t have sense enough to know when something was impossible.

“Cooter?” the boy tried next.

Luke spun back toward the others, giving Cooter a warning glare. The mechanic cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “Bo… I think you’d best do as Luke says,” he told him quietly.

Bo glared, hurt, at them all. Anna looked like she would very much like to let him try, but she wisely kept her mouth shut. The youngest boy opened his mouth, ready to say something, then paused, closed it, kicked at a rock hard, and stalked off, spine stiff.

Luke let out a sigh of relief, but he still felt guilty. Even though he knew, in his head, that Bo was playing on his emotions on purpose to get his own way, his heart hurt to deny him anything.

“How wide is that ravine?” Anna asked quietly.

He shook his head. “I’d guess somewhere around eighty feet. Maybe a bit less or more.”

She whistled. “I can see why you said no.”

He looked up, shrugging helplessly. “I can’t lose him. Sometimes you’ve just gotta be tough even when you don’t want to.”

“I know.” She squeezed his shoulder. “I helped raise my little sister. I know how it is.”

“Yeah.” She’d told him that her younger sister had died when she was twelve. That was one thing they had in common, it was sure. Too many deaths in the family. Luke sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his hand across them, then carefully stood up. They walked together into the shade of the garage, out of the noon-day sun.

Cooter was already there. He didn’t say anything about Bo’s near-tantrum, just handed out more drinks and pulled out a map of the county. Three dark heads bent over it as he started outlining the race course.

**

Bo sat down hard on a rock. Chin propped in his hands, he stared off into the distance moodily. He could too do it. He and the General could jump that gulley. He knew that car’s speed and power, though he wasn’t sure what made him so sure they could make it. But he was sure.

Why wouldn’t Luke listen to him? Just because he was ‘little’? He wasn’t so little. He was as tall as Luke, if not as strong, and he’d be sixteen in only a few days. His older cousin usually listened to what he had to say, so why not now?

Bo sighed again, drawing his knees up to his chest and looking over at the ravine. He measured the distance with his eyes. A long way. But the General Lee could make it, and especially with him driving.

He knew he was a good driver. Very good. He wasn’t being boastful; he’d eavesdropped on Luke and Cooter sometimes while he was supposed to be in bed. He’d heard them mention his name, and couldn’t resist. Luke had admitted that the younger Duke was probably as good as he was, and he’d only been driving a short while. Maybe he was even better by now, Bo thought. He’d like to be better at something than Luke.

He wasn’t sure where the sudden streak of competitiveness had come from. Usually he was fine with Luke being the best, in charge. It made him feel safe, in a funny way. But lately… He still wanted Luke to be boss. But he wanted to be able to outshine him somewhere, too. This, driving hard and fast and wild, seemed to be his biggest gift. And he wanted to prove it.

He knew he could jump that ravine!

Slowly, Bo’s eyes were drawn to the proud orange racecar sitting in the sun a short distance away. He bit his lower lip, then made up his mind. Before the rising feeling of guilt at his imminent disobedience could stop him, the blond boy jumped down off his rock and ran for the car.

He slid with the ease and agility of much practice into the familiar seat and turned the key, feeling the big engine roar to life underneath him.

 

Luke heard the roar, and jumped up. He uttered a soft curse as his full weight landed on his bad foot, sending a stab of pain up his leg, but manged to get to the door quickly nonetheless. Cooter ran up beside him, and the two stared as the General Lee accelerated away. Luke followed the path it was taking with his eyes, and gasped. “No! Bo..!”

“That crazy kid,” Cooter muttered. With a single backwards glance, he ran out, taking a shortcut to the ravine. But there was no way he could make it; Luke watched as the orange racer sped forward, picking up more speed by the moment. Bo had to be standing on it. He hoped it’d be enough. He couldn’t bear to shut his eyes, but he started whispering a three-word prayer over and over. “Lord, protect him. Lord, protect him…”

Then the General’s front wheels hit the edge, and the car took flight, arcing not quite as high as normal, but farther, its speed taking it beyond any distance Luke had ever seen a car jump. His breath caught, and he held it until the racer landed on the other side, rather roughly but still in one piece. It slid to a stop, then started off again, sedately following the ravine and crossing the bridge only a short ways down.

When the car pulled back up near the garage, Luke found himself moving faster than he would have thought he could half-lame. But Cooter got there first, dragging the young driver, already halfway through the window, the rest of the way out and shaking him by the shoulders.

“Don’t you ever do that again!”

Luke slowed down just a little. As much as he would like to do some shaking himself, he couldn’t afford to trip on the rough ground. He finally got there and sat down hard on the hood, his angrily-burning eyes saying just as much as actions could have. “Beauregard Robert Duke, I could…”

Bo flinched, but then something subtle flashed in his eyes, and his chin lifted. “What?” While his older cousin was too speechless to answer, he went on, “I made it.”

Luke had been about to yell, but now he paused. As much as he wanted to stay mad for Bo’s scaring him out of his wits like that, he couldn’t. He saw the look in the dark blue eyes, the confidence that had only started to really shine there recently, and couldn’t bring himself to break that fragile pride. “You scared me,” he finally accused.

Bo bit his lower lip. “I’m sorry I scared you. Honest. But I had to do it. I had to prove I could.” The chin came up again. “And I made it.”

Slowly, very slowly, Luke smiled. For some reason, he could never stay mad at Bo. He held out one arm, and the younger boy came over to him, receiving a single token swat and then a fierce hug. Luke held his cousin close, glancing at the sky and thanking God silently. “Yeah. You made it. I guess General Lee really is a powercar.”

“Yup.” The smile that spread across the boy’s face was almost beautiful.

Anna came running out of the old garage office. She’d gone on a ‘call of nature’ just before Bo had taken off. “What happened?”

Luke looked over at her over Bo’s head, smiling. “Bo jumped the gulley,” he said calmly. Anna gaped.

Cooter nudged the boys off the hood, lifting it with a frown. “Move, would ya?”

The older Duke frowned back. “What’s the matter?”

“I heard the engine makin’ some funny noises as he came back in,” the mechanic replied darkly. He poked around.

“Like what kind of noises?”

“It was sputterin’ a bit,” Bo answered. “I noticed it losing power too. That’s why I didn’t jump back like I was gonna.”

Luke shot him a brief glare. “And scare me to death twice? I’m glad you didn’t. What’s the problem, Cooter? Bo mess up somethin’ with that rough landing?”

“Naw, he shouldn’t have…” His voice trailed off. Luke tried to see around the raised hood.

“What is it?”

Cooter came out finally, a length of hose in his hand. “I knew we should’ve put in steel fuel lines. Lookit this.” He handed it over. “Busted. Bo, you’re lucky you got back.”

Luke studied the hose critically. Something felt wrong. Then he saw it, and his jaw tightened in anger.

“What’s wrong, Luke?” Bo asked.

He bent the hose in half. The hole gaped widely, jagged… except for the top half of the split line. “It was cut into, guys. Not all the way through, but enough. The more you raced around this morning, the weaker it got.” He glanced up. “When you finally hit the gas to make that jump, the weak section let go. It was designed to look like an accident.”

Cooter whistled, low, and rocked back on his heels, round face for once very serious. “What if that’d happened later? Like after a bunch of runs, just before a jump instead of after?”

“Someone could have gotten hurt,” Luke told him bluntly. “Very hurt.” Bo wordlessly pressed close to his older cousin, eyes wide, and he put an arm around him.

“Sabotage?” Anna asked. “But… who would sabotage the General?”

“That’s for him to know… and us to find out.” He looked back over at his mechanic friend. “Cooter, as little help as the cops are around here…”

Cooter was already running for his truck. “I’m gone!”

**

The two men up on the hill looked at each other worriedly. “That car jumped that thing, Rogers,” one said.

“I know.” The other stared down on the scene in front of them, and then shook his head. “It’s been runnin’ around all morning. Why didn’t that line snap earlier?”

“At least we made sure it looked like it happened on its own,” the first sighed.

“Hmph.” But Rogers finally nodded. “We’d better call the Boss.”

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

Rosco P. Coltrane, Sheriff of Hazzard County, was walking past Boss Hogg’s office, muttering to himself, when he paused, and retraced his steps to stand in the doorway. He listened intently.

“Yeah? Good…” the white-suited man chuckled. “Oh. Well, that’s fine… Good work. Keep me posted. Bye-bye.” He put down the phone, grinning to himself. Rosco’s scowl grew deeper. As of late, he had little love for that fat little face, brother-in-law or not.

He came into the office. “Boss, what’ve you got up your sleeve this time?”

Hogg looked up at him from behind his big desk. “That’s my business, sheriff. Why aren’t you out on patrol?”

“Lunch break.”

“Then why aren’t you lunching?” As if that had reminded him, Boss brought a quite large — no, make that very large, Rosco amended — sandwich out from under his desk and bit into it with relish.

Rosco ignored the question. “Are you swindling someone again? Like you swindled me?”

“I didn’t swindle you. I gave you a new job opportunity.”

“However you put it, you got rid of my pension.”

The other smiled angelically. “Mm-hmm. But it was for your own good-”

“I don’t wanna hear about my own good,” the sheriff interrupted, eyeing the huge sandwich. He half-expected it to fall apart any second. “You said I’m your top man, for deals honest or dishonest, so what’s goin’ on?”

“That’s right, I did say that, didn’t I… Well, let’s just say,” Hogg leaned in conspiratorially, “that I’m just making sure some competition for the summer’s-end race isn’t too much trouble.”

“Oo… Who?” Despite himself, Rosco was curious.

His superior scowled. “The Duke boys.”

“Duke boys? They just moved back here, they don’t have a fast car.”

“Yes they do,” Hogg growled, sinking his teeth into his sandwich. He swallowed. “They built one with the help of Cooter Davenport. And it’s trouble. Mark my words. Trouble. Now scat.”

Rosco obeyed, shutting the door behind him. He couldn’t go against Boss. After all, who held his job in the palm of his grubby, greedy little hand? But he did want to know about that car. With a decision to do a little snooping of his own, he headed through the booking room toward the door.

Just as Cooter Davenport himself rushed in. The two men collided, and both went sprawling onto the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Oo. Ow! Ow, that… that hurt. Get off!” Rosco demanded.

The grubby mechanic untangled himself and sat up, looking serious. “We got trouble, Rosco. The Dukes ’n me. And we need help. Since you’re the only law around…” He stood, grabbing Rosco by his shirtfront and hauling him to his feet. The sheriff slapped the younger man away, yanking his tie back into place, and drew himself up indignantly.

“I don’t know what ya got goin’ Cooter, but in a little garage like yours, it can’t be much. I got work to do.” He spun back towards the booking room. He’d head out to the Duke place after the company was gone.

Cooter ducked around him and blocked his way, hands held out. “Listen to me, will ya?”

Rosco finally sighed. “Make it quick.”

“Okay. I’ll make it quick. Real quick.” The mechanic pulled a length of black hosing out of his back pocket and handed it over. The sheriff handled it with two fingers gingerly. It was probably dirtier than its owner. “Somebody cut halfway through that there fuel line and it almost burst at a moment when somebody could’ve gotten hurt.”

“Cut through?” Looked pretty messy and normal to him.

“Yep. Looky here.” Cooter took the hose back and held it up to the light. “See the smooth line here?”

“Oh… yeah. I do.” So that was what Hogg had been chortling about. He’d bet twenty bucks, if he had it, which he didn’t, that this was it. But he couldn’t say that. “What car did this come off of?”

“A racer.”

That cinched it then. But he still wanted to see this mystery vehicle. “Well, let’s head on over to the scene of the crime.” He headed out the door and down toward his patrol car.

“But Rosco…” Cooter protested, running out after him. “There is no scene! It’s a car! It moves around!”

Rosco shut his car door with a slam, breaking off further protest. “Lead me.”

The mechanic threw up his hands and went across the street to his tow truck, muttering. Rosco started his engine. He’d get to the bottom of this yet. If Boss wouldn’t let him go honest, like he’d like to… well then, he would prove himself valuable as a partner. He had to make a living some way or another.

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

The two young Dukes ate in silence that night, both deep in thought. Luke was wondering who would have cut that fuel hose. Sheriff Rosco had come out with Cooter and taken notes, hmming and ahhing, but he doubted he’d be much help. But, he could hope. He didn’t know for sure what Bo was thinking, but the younger boy’s eyes were dark, abnormally hidden.

After they’d piled the dirty dishes in the sink to wash later, on top of lunch’s dirty dishes that he’d also said they’d wash ‘later’ (they really had to do them sometime before they went to bed), Luke went into the living room and sat down on the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He counted the seconds in his head until he felt a weight settle beside him like he’d known it would, close enough to feel the warmth of another body.

Bo sighed, the sound troubled, and his older cousin put his arm around him, pulling him into a gentle embrace.

“What is it, little cuz?” he asked softly.

Bo shrugged, just slightly. He swallowed, but said nothing, and Luke had about decided that he wasn’t going to reply when quiet words finally came. “I could have gotten killed, couldn’t I?”

“No! No,” he softened his tone again. “Hurt, maybe,” he had to be honest, “but I doubt killed.”

Bo leaned his head back to meet his eyes. The younger boy’s were very serious. “Yes I could. If I’d crashed down into the ravine.” Luke didn’t answer, refusing to imagine that. “But Luke, who’d want to kill me?”

He shook his head. “Nobody, Bo. I think they, whoever they were, were tryin’ to get rid of the General. You just happened to be driving. It’s probably somebody else in the race who’s afraid of us.”

“Yeah…” Then Bo sat up, holding Luke’s eyes with an almost-magnetic gaze. “But you know what? That’s not what really scares me.”

“No?”

“Uh-uh. If I died, I’d be with Uncle Jesse and Daisy, in heaven. What scares me is… if you hadn’t been hurt, you would have been driving. What scares me is…” He bit his lip and suddenly looked away, eyes glistening unnaturally, too-bright, with hidden tears. “What if you died, Lukas? What would I do?” A shudder ran through the teenager’s body, a hard one, and Luke felt almost like crying himself. He fought the urge and pulled Bo roughly down against him, practically in his lap, and held him, whispering.

“Bo… little cousin… Shh… Nothing happened, to either one of us. Nothing happened… shh…” He pressed his cheek into the messy blond head tucked under his chin. “Nothing’s going to happen, either.”

The shaking finally stopped as tears began to flow, tears of mixed fear and relief bottled up all day. Bo wrapped his arms around his older cousin, clinging to him like to a lifeline. Luke didn’t try to calm him down, not caring much about how wet his shirt was getting. It was best that it just all be let out. He just held the younger boy, rubbing his back, rocking him, letting him know wordlessly that he was safe, he was loved.

“I’m here,” he finally whispered. “I’m always here.”

Bo sniffed, not moving away one inch. “I’m just scared. I started thinking… Maybe I shouldn’t have started thinking.”

“Maybe,” Luke agreed gently. “But all’s well now, Bo. Nothing much comes from looking at the past and saying ‘what if?’. I mean, what if our parents hadn’t died when we were little? We’d never have even known each other very well.”

“…Yeah…”

“And what if you hadn’t been chased by that guy from out of town?”

“I’d never have found the General.”

“Uh-huh. See? Everything that happens in life could go a million ways. Lookin’ back and asking ‘what if?’ won’t change anything, and it can hurt, thinking about horrible things that could have happened.” Luke thought back. “Like when I was gone, in the war. Every day, I just looked at that day. If I’d looked at the things that happened the day before, all the ways I could’ve gotten killed, I would have gone nuts.”

Bo hugged him hard. “But you’re okay. You’re here!”

“Uh-huh. And there’s my point.”

The younger boy sat up halfway, just far enough to meet his eyes. “I’m still scared,” he admitted. “What if they try again?”

“To sabotage the General?” At Bo’s nod, he sighed. “We’ll just take that as it comes, too. We’re gonna win this race. We have to. We will.” He squeezed his younger cousin, smiling. “Besides having the best car, we’ve got the best driver.”

Bo smiled slowly, then laughed a little. He pulled away, wiping at his eyes. “Really? You really think so?”

“Cross my heart.” Deciding the mood needed lightening, Luke pinned the younger boy down on the couch, tickling him.

“Hey..! Luke…” Then Bo dissolved into helpless laughter, doing his best to squirm away. “Luke! Stop! Lemme go!”

He let him up for a breather, grinning. “What’d you say?” he teased. “Couldn’t understand you behind all that noise you were makin’.”

“Grr…” Bo leapt up in mock-anger, and Luke let him shove him off the sofa onto the floor, holding his strength in check to tussle wildly, yet gently, with his little cousin. They rolled and play-fought around the living room in a mix of wrestling match and tickle war, both managing to forget trouble for the time being.

Finally Luke lay on his back, breathing hard, Bo sitting on top of him in proud victory. “You know,” he suggested, “we really still do need to do the dishes.”

Bo wrinkled up his nose in distaste, but got up, leading the way into the kitchen. Luke rolled to his knees, watching him go, and swore yet again that nothing was going to happen to either of them. They needed each other. Yes, he had to admit it… he needed Bo as much as Bo needed him.

“Wait up for me,” he called as he pushed himself up, putting most of his weight on his good foot and balancing with the other. At least now he could walk. He’d managed to forget pride in this instance; a limp, no matter how pronounced, didn’t matter as long as he could get around, even if only for short trips.

Bo stuck his head back around the doorframe. “C’mon, I ain’t gonna do the dishes by myself.”

“I’m a-comin’, I’m a-comin’,” Luke playfully imitated the voice of an old man. “Jest let me get ma ol’ bones ta workin’.”

His reward was the delighted laugh of a young boy, and that itself delighted him.

**

“Hey.”

Luke looked up, and smiled. “Hey yourself. Sorry, I was thinking. Didn’t hear you comin’.” He looked for a car, and to his slight surprise didn’t see any.

“You wouldn’t. I walked over from Kate’s.” Kate was Anna’s new best friend, and lived on the neighboring farm to the Dukes. It was only a five-minute walk over the open meadow. Anna came up the steps and stood beside the porch swing. “You boys okay?”

He knew what she was referring to, and sighed, turning his gaze out to the clear country stars. “Yeah. Pretty much. Bo’s asleep right now, but he got pretty shook up when he started thinking about what could have happened if that line had burst a few seconds sooner.”

Anna shuddered slightly, leaning back against a post. “I was too. If anything had happened to him…” Then she saw the look on his face, and half-smiled. “Sorry. It’d be even worse for you, wouldn’t it?”

“I think I’d die,” he mumbled, looking away.

A sigh, then after a second, she sat down beside him on the swing. “I’m sorry. That anything happened at all.”

“It wasn’t an accident, Anna,” he suddenly turned his full attention to her. “Somebody did that on purpose, to hurt us, or at least scare us. Somebody wants us to pull out of the race.”

“You said that earlier.”

“Yeah. But after thinking on it, I believe it now more than ever. It was deliberate sabotage. Somebody’s been keepin’ tabs on the General.” He gestured to the barn. “That’s why we locked him in the barn tonight.”

“Oh. I wondered where the car was.”

“Yeah. I just hope nobody gets in in the middle of the night. But… I’d give up that car in a second if it meant saving Bo’s life.”

Anna put a hand on his knee, squeezing reassuringly. “I know. I know.”

“He’s everything to me.”

“I know.”

Luke met her eyes, quirking a tiny smile. “Though I also care about you.”

“I know that too.”

They shared a quiet laugh, then Luke finally made himself relax, and put an arm along the back of the swing, setting it into slight motion with the toe of one foot. “He is really something special. Different. But so very special.”

“Mm. I noticed. He’s…” She frowned as she searched for the right words. Luke waited patiently. “Unusual. He sees the world so differently than most of us do. I still haven’t figured him out.”

“Me neither. And I’ve known him all his life.”

“It’s like he’s a child, a surprisingly quick-witted one. But he can be so mature from time to time… he’s such a playful tease, like nothing could ever go wrong, sometimes, and so serious other times that it’s almost funny.”

Luke chuckled, nodding slightly. “I’ve never met anybody else like Bo. But I love him so much, just the way he is. He’s not only all my family, he’s my best friend.”

“I can tell.” At his quizzical glance, Anna explained, “It’s in your every word, the way you act around him, everything. You act different with him then with anyone else.”

He was curious about someone else’s views on himself. “And?”

“Well, you’re playful, for one thing. A little rough around the edges sometimes, but so gentle. Like you think he’s made of glass or something, even when you’re rough-housing. And you’re patient. I’ve watched you blow up, lose your temper so easily when it comes to other people, but it’s like nothing he can do can make you really mad at him.”

Luke frowned slightly, then smiled. “Huh. You know, now that I think about it, I guess you’re right.” He did get mad sometimes when Bo scared him, but not angry just for anger’s sake. “I could never hurt him, even emotionally, without hurting myself.”

“It’s like you two are almost one person. I’ve also noticed that you tend to finish each other’s ideas and sentences.”

He nodded slightly, thoughtfully, then brought his eyes back to his companion from looking outward. “I was scared today when he made that jump after I told him not to. And I got mad. But, yeah. I couldn’t’ve ever hurt him.”

“Back to the original subject,” Anna said after a short silence, “what’re you going to do about the sabotage?”

“I’m not sure what there is to do. Hope it don’t happen again, mostly, and wish that Rosco would actually do something about it for another.”

“He was sure interested in the General.”

He frowned. “Yeah. I noticed. He don’t know one thing about cars except how to drive ’em, and that not too well, but he checked that car all over.”

“Like… he’d heard about it. Even though we’ve tried to keep it a secret. Think Boss could be involved?” Even in the short time she’d lived in Hazzard, she’d learned about the commissioner’s ways.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. He might try to get rid of competion; he’s as crooked and low-down as a snake when it comes to cheating. But I don’t think he’d ever try to really hurt anyone.” It did bear a bit of looking into, though, he thought privately.

Anna sighed, moving closer to dispel the chill that even a summer night had in the hills. Luke put an arm around her shoulders and they sat in silence for a while.

His mind was still racing. He finally came to a decision — if any more ‘accidents’ happened, he was going to find out who was responsible. And he was going to personally wring his neck. If Bo was hurt… He couldn’t bear that thought.

But revenge… wasn’t something his Uncle Jesse had taught him. In a way, yes, for instance making someone see their wrong by giving them a taste of their own medicine. And he’d also taught him to do whatever necessary to protect the other members of his family. But coldhearted, out-and-out revenge… no.

“Well, let’s just hope nothing more happens,” Anna finally said quietly.

“Yeah. And pray.” Luke drew a deep breath. He wanted to do what was right. But he also wanted to protect his younger cousin. “Whatever happens,” he finally swore out loud, “nothing’s going to happen to Bo.”

“You really love him.” He looked down and over to see a slight smile. “Don’t you?”

“I said that earlier. Didn’t I?” He searched his thoughts. Maybe he had only meant to say it.

“Yes, you said it. But what I meant was, you really do. It’s not just words. And you don’t use the word ‘love’ lightly, like you would about a friend or your dog. You really love him.”

Luke nodded, slowly. “I’d die to protect him.” Anna was really the only one he could share his feelings with, he mused. She always listened. Always understood. Well, almost always. “He’s all I have left. We…” He hesitated, almost afraid to think of it himself, much less share. “We might lose the farm, Anna.”

She gasped, green eyes filled with sympathetic pain. She knew how much the Duke boys loved their land. “No…”

“Maybe not,” he assured himself as much as her. “Not if we sell off all the livestock and try again next year. But we’re in the red. I’ve dug in my heels at the thought of getting a loan, but I might have to.”

“Oh, Luke…” Anna put an arm around him, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing you could do,” he smiled slightly. “Oh, I guess we’ll be all right. I guess we had rough times too when we were little, but Uncle Jesse never acted like things were bad, and we always were fine. I guess I just need to stop looking at what’s wrong and trust in God, like he taught us to.” He twisted his lips into a wry smile. “It’s not easy.”

“Any way I can help…” she offered.

“No. You need every dime you make for yourself. But thanks.” He gave her a sideways hug.

“It’s just that I care about you guys.”

“Yeah. Thanks. I had to tell Cooter the same thing.”

Anna chuckled. “I guess we friends are hard to get rid of, huh?”

“Yeah,” he smiled back, “you’re a selfless bunch. But sure nice to have around when there’s trouble.”

“Well, I know that I, for one, will be right there to help you find whoever’s trying to get you out of the race.”

“Thanks, again.” Luke marveled slightly how close she managed to become to the Dukes, and him especially. “You both are such a special kind of friend.”

“The loyal kind?”

“Well, yeah. At least Cooter is. As for you…” He leaned away and pretended to eye her distrustfully, then they both broke down in quiet laughter.

“The funny thing is, I never felt this close to anyone before, even in my own family.”

He sobered, though still smiling. “To us? Or to me?”

Anna elbowed him lightly in the ribs for his teasing jibe. “Both.” Then her smile softened, and she lifted her chin to meet his kiss.

Luke couldn’t help but feel that maybe everything would be all right after all.

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

A few more days went by without any further acts of sabotage, though they checked the General Lee over inch-by-inch every day before they ran him. Luke was starting to settle down, to think that maybe whoever it was had just tried once and one time only, when he got nervous again.

This time they weren’t racing around; they weren’t even out at Fairview Crossings. The two Dukes were heading for town to pick up some groceries, using the General because the pickup was in Cooter’s garage again. Bo was showing a great ability to divide his attention between driving and nonstop conversation, without skipping a beat at either. Tomorrow was his birthday, and what with driving the General, he kept forgetting that he wasn’t already sixteen, and correcting himself. He was excited, and getting more so by the day. Just the thought of a birthday had always been enough to send the blond boy into an emotional high, but this time it was compounded by the race that would be run that Saturday, only two days away. Bo never even mentioned losing; he’d already accepted that he would win, no question. Luke hoped his dreams wouldn’t be disproved on race day.

He nodded and laughed along at his younger cousin’s jokes, though he did have to point for Bo to keep his eyes on the road a few times. But, all in all, it was a peaceful day. Until the sirens started up behind them.

Luke glanced in the rearview mirror, startled. Uh-oh. “Rosco,” he warned. “Speed trap. Step on it, cousin. We can’t let him catch us with you in the driver’s seat without a license.”

Bo’s eyes widened only slightly before he narrowed them and jerked the wheel to the side, driving directly into the sun across a meadow. Luke had to shield his eyes from the glare.

“We can’t see! Turn!” he ordered.

Bo obeyed only after a couple of seconds. As the General spun into a quick one-eighty, the white police car behind them kept on going past, still blinded to their change in direction by the sun. It finally turned away, but it had lost a considerable amount of ground. Bo raced back toward the road, and leapt back up onto it by using the steep shoulder that a car couldn’t normally climb up very easily as a takeoff ramp. Luke was a little speechless, but he couldn’t help but applaud the younger boy’s evasive manuvers.

“Good. Now let’s get out of here!”

Bo grinned over at him quickly. “Gotcha. Bye, Rosco!” He hit the gas again. And the car backfired.

No, Luke realized a split-second later. That was a gunshot. Rifle fire, to be exact. “Wha..?” Another shot sounded, and the General suddenly listed. Bo pumped the brakes quickly, and brought them to a safe stop, then both boys dived for the floor at a third report.

“Who’s shooting?!” the younger Duke yelled.

Luke wished he wasn’t always supposed to have the answers. Because he didn’t. “I don’t know!”

Then came the sirens again, and another, closer, gunshot. A few seconds went by, then Luke heard an engine roar away. He stuck his head up over the dashboard to see Rosco coming, pistol in hand.

“Rosco scared ’em off, whoever they were. Hurry, switch with me!”

Bo didn’t waste time on words, just scrambled nimbly over his older cousin so that it looked like Luke had been driving. Luke hoped that the sheriff wouldn’t remember that he was supposed to have an injured right foot, and that he wouldn’t order them out and see the bandage.

“All right,” Rosco snapped as he came up to the racer, still brandishing the gun. Both boys eyed it nervously. “I gotcha. You kids are most definitely gettin’ a ticket now! Two of ’em! Speedin’, and reckless drivin’! Khee-khee!” He grinned. “I love it, I love it. I gotcha now!” Then, before either Duke could open their mouths to reply, he went on. “Who’s shootin’ at you, anyway? Someone wanna kill ya?”

“We don’t know,” Luke finally managed to get a word in edgewise, rather testily. “Why don’t you go find out? You’re the sheriff, ain’t you?”

“Ahh…” He obviously didn’t want to do anything involving risking his own neck. “Nevermind. Just… here.” He scribbled on two sheets of paper and handed them over. “You’ll have to fix that tire, or I’ll get ya for impedin’ traffic out in the middle of the road like this.”

Bo spoke up, his voice unusually, to Luke’s discerning ear at least, young and innocent. “But what if whoever it was comes back? Oh, maybe you can go keep them away while we change our tire. I know we can count on our brave sheriff, can’t we, Luke?” His smile was a little too bright.

“Oo. Oh.” Rosco looked a bit nervous, but he held himself together well, Luke grudgingly gave him that much. Of course, maybe that was because of the flattery. “Well, mebbe you’re right. You hurry up now, though, boys. I’ll be back in a bit.” He ran back to his white cruiser and took off in the direction they’d come from, the direction Luke was pretty sure wasn’t the way the shooters had gone.

Bo slid down in his seat, giggling with both hands over his face. Luke waited patiently, amused, for him to get his breath back and look up, dark blue eyes dancing merrily. “Didja see that? He’s scared!”

Enough was enough. “Okay, Bo, we’ve had our fun. He used to be a good sheriff, one of the best. So let’s not poke too much fun, huh?” He pulled himself out of the car carefully. “Good thing he forgot I can’t drive. Get the spare out, will ya? And the jack.”

“Right.”

The younger boy went back to the car’s trunk, and Luke gingerly let himself down beside the flat tire. He surveyed the damage with a quick glance, and sighed. Hopeless. Even Cooter couldn’t patch this one. The bullet had gone through in two places, a small hole going in and a big jagged one coming out.

“Here,” Bo’s voice came next to him, and he looked up, taking the jack and wiggling it into place as best as he could while sitting down.

“Okay, thanks. Now, you’re gonna have to change the tire. I can’t stand too well. I’ll help you unfasten it, but you’ll have to lift it off and the new one on.”

“Okay.” Bo set the spare tire down and handed his older cousin the tire iron. Luke got up on his knees for a bit of leverage and started taking off the lugnuts. His mind was wandering, though, to the shooting. It had to be the same guys who’d cut the General’s fuel line. He didn’t know of anyone else who would try to kill them. And this time they didn’t even try to make it look like an accident. Even Rosco had admitted that it could have been attempted murder. At the very least, it was purposeful damage to the racecar.

Luke glanced over at Bo, who was looking a bit worried but not too badly so, as though he’d really taken what Luke had said about neither of them being hurt to heart and believed it without question. But the older boy was starting to wonder if winning that race on Saturday was worth all this. It sure wasn’t worth risking their lives.

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

Rosco stalked into Boss Hogg’s office. He had had enough. Enough! He put one hand down hard on top of the wooden desk, and glared at the commisioner. “Just what are you up to?” he demanded.

“What?” Boss pretended surprise and innocence. “Whatever are you talking about?”

“Oh, you know good ’n well what I’m talkin’ about,” the sheriff snorted. “I was chasin’ the Duke boys, and they got shot at. An’ I know that you’ve been messin’ around with ’em for the past couple weeks. Did you send those guys?”

Boss’ eyes widened, and he gasped. “They didn’t hit the boys..?!”

“They hit a tire-”

He calmed, suddenly uninterested. “Oh, that’s different.”

“-but they kept shootin’ after they forced that orange car off the road.”

The white-suited man winced. “I told them..!” Then his fat face gained a look of guilt.

Rosco had caught it. “You did send ’em!”

“Not to hurt anyone! You know I don’t cotton to violence!”

The sheriff sighed explosively and put his fists on his hips. He didn’t dare act against Boss, or he’d lose the only chance at a job he had left. But he could complain, and he would. “Why don’t you just let those boys alone? What’ve they ever done to hurt you?”

Boss stood, coming around the desk with a wide smirk spreading over his face. He put a hand on Rosco’s shoulder, and the sheriff fought back a flinch at the close contact. “Look here. I’ll talk to my men and make sure they don’t hurt nobody. And you sit down.” He pushed him into a chair and leaned forward. Rosco leaned back, away. “I’ll explain. You see, this orange car — orange, what a color,” he shuddered, “is the fastest thing seen in the county since Jesse Duke’s old Black Tillie shine-runner. Maybe faster. Whether it is or it ain’t don’t matter. What matters is that it’s almost guaranteed to win the summer’s-end race.”

“If they built it that way, they deserve it,” the sheriff argued.

“Oh, no. No way! The county is puttin’ up the ten thousand dollar prize money! And I ain’t givin’ no ten thousand samolians to no Dukes! Actually,” he said thoughtfully, as if to himself, “I ain’t givin’ it up to nobody. Let the people have their fun little race. But my car’s gotta win.”

Rosco’s eyes widened. “Oh… oo. Oo. That ain’t fair, Boss.”

The other laughed. “Of course it ain’t! What’s to be fair? You see now?”

“I see, Boss.” And I wish I could make you ’see’ something, like my fist! But he decided not to say the last out loud. “You’re gonna make sure them boys ain’t hurt? They ain’t done nothin’ really except speedin’.”

“I’ll make sure,” Boss nodded, smiling broadly in obviously mock friendliness. He lifted the sheriff out of his chair by one arm and shoved him out of the office. “Go patrol!” he snapped as he slammed the door.

Rosco went into the booking room, muttering under his breath various names that he’d like to call his superior to his face, but didn’t dare. He wanted to take his temper out on the first person he saw, but that happened to be Enos Strate, and he clamped down on his anger. Enos had just come back from the police academy a week ago, and Rosco thought that he’d never seen a clumsier deputy in his life. But at least the kid was honest. Boss hadn’t been able to buy him yet. So he really didn’t deserve being yelled at for no reason.

“Hi, Sheriff,” Enos started, looking a bit nervous as he scanned the older man’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Boss, that’s what,” he grumbled.

The young deputy turned slightly, and the wind from the fan caught the papers in his hands, sending some of them flying. He scrambled around to grab them off the floor, dropping others in the process. “Commissioner Hogg? What’s he done now?”

“Oh, he’s cheatin’ on the summer’s-end race. Tryin’ to scare the competition away.” He dithered over whether to help his deputy, and finally reached over to turn off the fan, making the pick-up job easier. “Ya know, I never liked Dukes much, but I almost wish they’d win an’ just give Boss a headache.”

Enos giggled slightly, then shot a guilty glance toward Boss’ office. He lowered his voice. “I’d always root for Luke and Bo, Sheriff. They’re my friends!”

“I know,” Rosco grumbled, then gestured around at the mess. “Clean all this up.”

“I am, Sheriff! Uh, Sheriff?”

He sighed, patience very thin. “What is it now?”

“Could I get off early and go to a party the Dukes’re having? It’s Bo’s birthday tomorrow.”

Rosco thought that over, then finally nodded. “Don’t see why not. But Enos… lips sealed, okay? No tellin’ those boys about all this. Boss would fire us both.”

“They… they ain’t gonna be hurt, are they?”

“No, they ain’t. Quit askin’ stupid questions.” He wished he could be sure they were stupid.

“Well… all right. But I don’t like it, Sheriff. I really don’t.”

“You don’t have to! Just obey the orders of your commanding officer!” Rosco went into his own office.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for letting me go!” he heard just before he slammed the door, with enough satisfactory force to make the thin walls rattle. Ah! Let Boss complain about that! He was the one who’d skimped on building materials.

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

To take his own mind off what had happened earlier that day, and as a form of birthday celebration now that he thought about it, Luke had called a swimming party and picnic down at Sutton’s Pond. Bo was ecstatic at the thought, even though he had to wear swimming trunks. Anna promised to bring some cupcakes. Cooter put up his ‘closed’ sign eagerly, much more ready to get in the water than under a hood on a day as hot as this one. And Enos arrived late.

“Sorry, y’all!” he shouted as he ran down the slight hill to where the others already were. “The Sheriff had me cleanin’ up a bit of a mess!”

“C’mon, Enos!” Cooter yelled back, falling backwards into the water with a big splash. He came up grinning, looking cleaner than Luke had seen him in some time.

The young deputy laughed and scrambled down the last bit of incline, holding up a basket. “I got some of Lacy’s fried chicken!”

Bo whooped and jumped up from where he’d been resting beside his cousin, running over to greet Enos and take a look into the basket. “Yum.” Lacy Wilkins, a middle-aged woman who ran a small store in town, was famous for her fried chicken. Breaded, crunchy, and flavorful, others were always trying to find out the recipe. But she never let a word slip.

Luke chuckled and waved. He was sitting under a tree at the moment, but he had been in the water earlier. He’d discovered, much to his enjoyment, that his temporary handicap didn’t impede swimming much. “Food’s over here,” he greeted. “Put that in the middle.”

Enos put the basket down among the other things piled on a red-checked tablecloth, and showing a playful side of himself that he rarely let his older superiors in the police force know much about, stripped down to swimming trunks and took a running leap to land with a giant splash in the water and a wild laugh. Bo was right on his heels, giggling as he landed beside his friend and threw up a wave that washed over both their heads.

Luke smiled, watching them. Cooter quickly made it a threesome, howling with laughter as Bo turned to attack him now with another large splash. Luke loved to see his younger cousin so carefree and happy, as though nothing was wrong. Even though the truth was nearly the opposite. Despite however much he tried, he couldn’t keep from thinking about their problems. All his questions were slowly getting answers, and he didn’t like the way they were turning out.

Why had they been attacked? Obviously because someone had been watching them and was nervous about the General Lee. Who? He’d been playing with the idea of it being Boss ever since he’d talked it over with Anna. Boss wouldn’t want to hurt anyone…

But if he’d hired some other guys, outsiders from Hazzard… Maybe. Maybe. He had to go speak to JD Hogg. Confront him. Tell him just what was going on, that they’d been shot at. See what his reaction was. No matter how much the plump criminal leader of the county thought he was good at hiding what he thought about things, he wasn’t. Luke could see almost everything Boss thought he wasn’t showing.

“Penny for your thoughts,” a softly teasing voice came from beside him after a while. He looked up and smiled at Anna.

“You again, I see. Can’t I ever get rid of you?” he teased back.

“Nope. Neither one of us.”

Luke peered behind her to see who else was there, and wasn’t very surprised to have Bo jump out and land practically in his lap for a hug. “Hey there, cousin,” he greeted, even though Bo had only taken off a few minutes ago. The younger boy had been constantly running back and forth between him and the water since they’d gotten here, as though he couldn’t stand to not be in both places at once.

“Hey yourself!” Blond hair plastered to his head darkly by the water, he hugged his older cousin again and settled down between him and the food. He reached out and snagged two pieces of the chicken Enos had brought, handing one to Luke and the other to Anna. They both accepted in surprise, but Luke’s beginning worry that Bo might not be feeling all right was quenched when the other boy grabbed again, coming up with another, good-sized, piece of chicken.

Luke eyed how quickly he was polishing that off, and called out to the others, deciding that it was time for lunch. “Cooter, Enos! C’mon an’ eat before Bo takes it all!”

Bo made a protesting noise, but his mouth was too full to argue. The last two came scrambling, dripping wet, up the hill to the picnic blanket. Without any asking for permission or anything so polite as ‘please pass the chips’, the five young people started making inroads on the food.

Anna didn’t much seem to mind being the only girl there. Thinking of that, Luke’s mind drifted briefly to his cousin Daisy, and he could almost picture her there, laughing and playing with them, grown into the beautiful young woman she would have become. Wind-tossed brown hair, sparkling dark blue eyes, a daring grin… She had been the only girl in the Duke family, and had run with Luke and his friends ever since she was little, learning to outride, outswim, and outshoot most of the boys around. Luke had actually been proud to be her cousin, despite however much his friends complained about having her tag along.

If only she and Uncle Jesse were still here. She would be as excited about the General as he and Bo were, and probably involved in the preparation for the upcoming race. If he’d been hurt, it would be her instead of Bo in the driver’s seat, as much as he was proud of his little cousin for his apparent inborn skill. And Uncle Jesse would be here to help raise Bo; he’d always known just what to do, how to react to the sudden switches in mood from scared to angry to wild…

If only. If only things were still the same as they had always been. If only no one had ever died, and he’d never have been drafted because of his ruse to keep Bo, and his younger cousin had never had to go stay at Rialton.

Yet, there was good in this, too. Bo had grown, become less thoughtless because of having to partway look after himself. Luke had grown up, maybe too quickly, but still had matured beyond what he’d ever imagined being as a kid. They had the General Lee, and were going to race him, and if Bo’s confident predictions were to be believed, win. And Luke had met Anna, someone that he was always being surprised at the strength of his feelings for.

There were good and bad sides to all that had happened. Maybe the best thing to do was what he’d told Bo — not look at the past and what could have happened, but just live in the present. Maybe that was the best advice for life in general. Luke looked around, at the small laughing group of friends, and smiled to himself. Yep, things were okay. Even with his injured foot, and the sabotage, and the shooting, and everything. Suddenly none of that seemed to matter anymore. He looked around, and what he saw was people. People who all looked to him as in a way their leader, though he hadn’t tried to place himself in that position. People who cared about each other, and him and Bo. People who would stick by the last Dukes to the end, making all his worries really somewhat unnecessary.

Luke snatched another handful of popcorn, leaned back on his elbows, and reached over to turn the portable radio, tuned to a country station, up. Time to quit worrying about the past, and just live for today. Today’s fun, today’s problems. Dukes could handle anything, even Boss Hogg, in their own special flair-filled style; at least, that was what Uncle Jesse had always said. Maybe Luke could learn something from Bo in this one respect. For now, it was time to be a kid.

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

“You idiots!!”

The two thugs, Rogers and Daniels, looked at each other and wisely kept silent, enduring their employer’s tirade.

Boss JD Hogg was pacing the floor of his office at the Boar’s Nest, shouting almost at the top of his lungs. He thought briefly that it was a good thing the Nest was closed today; somebody might hear. But right now, he was more concerned about something very unusual for him — doing right. “Look, I sent you out to sabotage the car, to boobytrap their practice track… things that wouldn’t hurt the boys! Just like a hoax, you know? I didn’t want anyone shot at!!”

Daniels scowled, tossing his longish black hair away from his face. “Look, Hogg, you want us to get these kids outta the race, you let us do it our way. Got me?”

Hogg wasn’t giving up. “I don’t want anybody hurt!” He sighed. “Those boys are a nuisance, but not too much, and certainly not worth takin’ potshots at!”

Rogers’ turn, rather disgustedly. “It’s not like we hit the kids. We just blew out a tire and scared ’em a good one.”

“My sheriff says you kept shootin’ after the orange car had stopped,” Hogg accused.

Rogers leaned close. The Boss of Hazzard County could see quite clearly that the man hadn’t shaved yet today, and he could smell whiskey on his breath. “So what? Look here. You tell us to pull a job. It’s our business how we do it. Not yours. Or would you like to have us just change our opinions of you right here?”

Hogg swallowed hard. The voice was silky, threatening. “All right, all right. But no more shootin’.”

Finally a nod. “All right. We’ll remember that. Unless those kids start chasing down our tail, then we’re shootin’ and gone. Get me?”

He nodded, slowly. “Got you.” The crook moved back to his place beside his partner, and waited for Hogg to sit down behind his desk. He did so, clearing his throat. “What’s the report? They out of the race?”

Daniels again. “We’re not sure. We followed them, very discreetly, to a small lake where they joined a few other young people in what appeared to be a swimming party. We left after it seemed that they weren’t really going anywhere else today.”

“All right.” Hogg sat back in his chair, frowning thoughtfully. “You say the kid is driving? The blond one?”

“Yep.”

He finally nodded, and sat forward. “Okay. Keep watchin’ ’em. If they pull out of the race, leave ’em alone. If they continue…” He directed a sharp scowl at his hired henchmen, warning them to listen close. “Take the youngest boy, the driver. His name’s Bo. His cousin Luke won’t do anything without him.”

“And then what?” Rogers’ smile was predatory, showing teeth. Hogg suppressed a shiver, hurriedly making sure they understood.

“And don’t hurt him! Just kidnap him, say, take him up to an old cabin in the woods someplace. Someplace his cousin won’t ever think to look!”

“What’re we supposed to do with the kid?”

“Hold him. Just hold him until after the race, then let him go. Unharmed,” he warned, jabbing his cigar toward them for emphasis.

Finally Rogers nodded curtly, the motion quickly echoed by Daniels. “As long as he behaves himself. Where should we take him?”

Hogg had been thinking up this idea for some time. He pulled a small map out from under his desk. “Here.” He pointed to a little spot circled in red. “I have a shack out at an old still site I abandoned years ago. Feds got too close. But it oughta be a good hiding place.”

Rogers eyed first the map, then his employer. “We’ll be there several days. We’ll need supplies. Food, and bedding…”

“All provided,” Hogg waved a hand. “For three.”

“Hm.” It was a disapproving sound. The thug folded the map up and slid it into an inside pocket of his jacket. “Well, as long as you keep payin’ us, I guess we can take a few orders. All right. When?”

“Like I said, only if they go on with the racin’ idea. If they do, then tomorrow sometime. Just don’t get caught. You don’t know what temper is until Luke Duke aims it your way.”

Rogers gave a slight nod of assent. “Quick and silent. Our pleasure.” The smile that spread across that rough face was almost frightening in its sheer enjoyment. JD Hogg shivered inside again, and hoped that the two would obey orders. However much he hated the possibility of losing ten thousand dollars, he couldn’t bear the thought of having innocent young blood on his hands.

No violence. That had always been his standard. Cheat ’em, trick ’em, squeeze every last penny and shred of power you could by hook or by crook out of ’em. Even outright steal from them. But never, never truly harm any of his victims in any way besides in their pocketbook.

He planned on keeping that record intact.