Author's Notes: Howdy everyone! Whew, thanks for the hugely positive response to this one! Now, it might seem like this one is a little slow to start, but you'll see what's happening pretty quick - just bear with me. ;-) And I always love feedback - my new job takes a lot out of me, and notes from readers do a lot to motivate me when my hands are all torn up and I'm all sunburned and annoyed with the public in general. Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Safe In The Arms of Love

Bo, Daisy, and Jesse had worries of their own, in the few short days since Luke's phone call to say he was coming home for good. He was the last of the Hazzard youth returning from the war. Six had gone, to the Air Force, Navy, Army, and Luke the only Marine. Three were killed in action. Hank Carson had come and left again, moving his wife and newborn baby up to Nebraska with her folks. Daniel Winterson returned six months before, minus a lower right leg, and had since become a sodden fixture in the seedier bars of Hazzard. Now it was Luke's turn.

Had he changed? Would they recognize him? His letters were always short, if they came at all – sometimes weeks of fear passed between each smudged letter, scribbled with a borrowed pencil, and he always asked about them, instead of saying much of anything about himself. His family's letters reached him in bundles – five, six, ten at a time, as they piled up between the supply deliveries. All three of them wrote him often, whether he wrote back or not. They had been so proud when he earned his paratrooper's wings, and of his brief but bright venture into boxing, but all that had been stateside, the first eight months of his absence. The thirty months since then had been full of nothing but worry for all of them.

Daisy had just finished school the previous spring, and helped her uncle out around the farm as much as she was able. She worked the stills while Bo was in class, did the cooking and cleaning in the mornings and evenings, and worried about Jesse when he made his 'shine runs. Bo was partway through his senior year, though he was interested in school more for the football and the girls than the academics. True to his promise to Luke, though, he scraped by with passing grades, and didn't drop out, as much as he wanted to. When he wasn't at practice or games, or doing a man's share of work at the farm, Bo spent his afternoons with Cooter, working on cars and daydreaming racing dreams. They all missed Luke terribly.

Jesse, who had known war himself, had worries of his own, worries that he did not share with his young niece and nephew. War changed a man, unavoidably, irrevocably, terribly. He read between the lines of Luke's short correspondence and saw the pain, the sadness, the fear. In his longest letter, fourteen months ago, Luke had written a great deal about how beautiful the night stars were, how serenely quiet the jungle could be at night, how vivid the colors of the sun at dawn, and how much he missed them at home - and Jesse knew he was clinging to the few bits of good he could find in the hell he was going through. The Duke patriarch worried about the lasting effects on his eldest nephew - eldest son.

Some of Jesse's fears seemed confirmed when he first saw Luke standing there in the crowd, with that lifeless, broken expression on his face, the dull glaze in his once-sparkling blue eyes. He looked lost, Jesse thought, and for a split second, fearful, as he finally sighted his family at the far end of the lobby. Every bit of him seemed to cry out for rest and healing. Even his smile, with his family's arms around him, was an imitation weakened by long disuse. As they made their way to the truck, Bo and Daisy chattering the whole way, Jesse took note of Luke's slow, stiff, limping gait, like a paw-sore, weary hound at the end of a long and fruitless hunt.

Luke was largely unaware of his uncle's scrutiny, overwhelmed as he was. He had been so worried, he didn't let himself think about it too much, but now, he was home - Home! There was Bo talking his ear off again, with that same boyish grin. Luke couldn't believe how tall he was now – taller than himself, even! – and how the awkward, clumsy teenager he'd left behind had grown into this slender, strapping young man. And even if Bo hadn't written to him, Luke knew with that grin, those eyes, that hair, his younger cousin was sure to be chasing skirts all over town – or they were chasing him.

As they walked through the parking lot, Daisy wrapped slender arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, more easily now that she had grown a few inches herself. Luke squeezed her tight and kissed her forehead, basking in the show of affection. She reached one hand up to rub the short dark fuzz that was his hair, and he found himself chuckling in response to her teasing smile. His Marine-regulation haircut was a far cry from the longer, unruly cut he had grown up with.

Still smiling as Bo bounded up onto the seat next to him and shut the truck door, Luke leaned back against the familiar old truck cushion, happier than he had been in a very long time. Jesse got in and started the truck, and they were off. The drive was quiet at first, until Luke covered a mighty yawn, and decided he needed some conversation if he was gonna stay awake.

"So, uh…what all's been going on around here? How'd the harvest go? How's business? " Luke asked, meaning the Duke family moonshine business by the last question. Bo, Daisy, and Jesse started at answer him all at once, starting with different pieces, but the younger Dukes stopped, letting their uncle speak.

It took Jesse most of the ninety-minute drive to tell Luke all about the recent highlights of the 'shine business, from dangerous runs (several by Bo) to increasingly sharp revenuers to product quality to prices and profits. That last bit became important, because with a wet spring and dry summer, the harvest had been poor, Jesse went on to say. They were just pulling onto Mill Pond Road in Hazzard as Jesse began to talk about the crops, and it was a discussion that lasted them through the farmhouse doors and into the living room over tall, cold glasses of lemonade.

Sitting at one end of the couch, Luke took in his uncle's words along with all the sights and smells of Home – the worn old carpet that had resembled a racetrack to two little boys and their Matchbox cars, the comfy old couch that had been a Christmas present to Aunt Martha one prosperous year, the pictures on the mantle of family loved and family lost, the warm breeze from the fields carrying the scent of cotton and earthy soil - the smiling faces of his family sitting around him. So many times on so many dark days, Luke had closed his eyes just to imagine Home, just for a few minutes, and for just a few minutes he was healed, until he opened his eyes and with disappointment found himself still in the combat zone, still fighting.

"…But listen to me, carryin' on like this!" Jesse was saying as Daisy gathered up their empty glasses. "We haven't given Luke one minute to take his shoes off! I'm sure you'd like to unpack and settle in a little. Daisy here worked all week to get your clothes and blankets all washed and clean, and we finally got Bo to clean up the room - scrubbed it spic and span, he did. That is, if you still don't mind sharing with him," Jesse added, wondering what Luke's expectations would be now. A grown man might not want to share a room as he had as a child, and Luke was certainly a grown man now.

Daisy and Bo had been blushing at Jesse's comments on their hard work - it had been such a surprise when they received that phone call Tuesday afternoon, at least as much of a surprise as it was when Luke was handed his papers and ordered to evacuate with the last of the wounded from the besieged hospital he'd been guarding. Now, though, Bo looked up apprehensively - the thought had crossed his mind, but he'd clean forgotten about it.

Luke, on the other hand, looked taken aback. Mind sharing? He hadn't hardly slept in three days because he was so worried about being cast out of the house and the family entirely - why on earth would he mind sharing a room with his little cousin, like he had every day of his life?

"Of course I don't mind!" he said, reluctantly pulling himself to his feet and gathering his pack. "Wait…" He turned to Bo, frowning. "You don't still snore, do you?"

Bo gaped at him for a moment, first relieved, then anxious again, until he realized Luke was joking. Luke grinned at him, and Bo grinned back.

"Come 'ere, you," Luke ordered, and Bo happily accepted and returned another fierce hug.

It only took Luke a few minutes to unpack, neatly folding his clean clothes into the drawers and quickly tucking away the few other items in his pack. The handful of pictures and bundle of letters went into his wardrobe in an old cigar box, and the medals he buried much deeper under some old sweaters down in the bottom drawer. Then he spent some time just looking around the room, looking at old trophies from Little League and Boy Scouts, and new ones Bo had picked up in football more recently. No one interrupted him - Luke had a feeling Uncle Jesse was holding Bo and Daisy back, to give him a little time alone, and he appreciated his thoughtfulness.

However, he didn't really want to be alone, so he retrieved the last two items remaining on his neatly made bed - a tube of prescription medication and one pair of brand-new fluffy white socks - and stepped across the hall to the bathroom to treat his feet and return to the living room as quickly as possible.

He found a washcloth and ran the sink full of hot water while he sat on the toilet cover and worked at the knots on his bootlaces. He hissed to himself as he carefully pulled each boot off, particularly careful of the sheathed K-bar knife he wore at the ankle of his right boot. A soft knock on the door drew his attention as he set the boots aside, and Jesse peered in, quickly noting the bloodstained and yellow-crusted socks.

"Need a hand?" Jesse asked, only partially masking his concern.

Luke bobbed his head noncommittally - it wasn't exactly a two-man job, but he guessed his uncle wanted to be helpful in some way, and he wouldn't mind the company at least. Closing the door behind him, Jesse sat down at the edge of the tub while Luke eased off the first sock. Jesse gave a soft gasp at the sight.

The soles of Luke's feet looked like the worst case of athlete's foot Jesse had ever seen - dry, cracked, and bleeding, crusted yellow in spots and red in others. 'Jungle rot' was the name for it, and Luke had it as bad as any man out there. Soaking the washcloth, Luke winced as he carefully washed his right foot off, reopening some of the splits and staining the cloth red. While his foot air-dried, he reached back, trading the cloth for the tube of medicated anti-fungal cream. He gave a grunt of pain as he rubbed it in, hating the fungus infection for its petty annoying pain, as though he didn't have enough to endure already.

Jesse didn't say anything, just looked on sadly. When Luke reached for the socks, though, Jesse took them from his hand and unfolded them, setting the one on his knee and motioning for Luke to lean a little closer forward. Ever so gently he eased the sock on over wounds and medication, all the way up to the ankle where the sock settled in place. Luke didn't flinch once at the tender handling, but in fact yawned again, rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand. His sleepless journey home was starting to catch up with him again, and he wondered how long he could continue to outrun it.

It didn't take long to give his left foot the same treatment, and by the time the sink was cleaned up and his old socks were in the trash, Luke felt worlds better. He carefully stood and could immediately feel the difference, giving another mental thanks to the Marine lieutenant who recommended investing in a few dozen new socks on the way home. Bo and Daisy, who were starting to wonder what was taking so long, looked up eagerly at Luke and Jesse's approach, trading smiles all around.

"Now, Bo…" Luke began, easing himself back onto the end of the couch and starting to feel the muzziness of sleep tugging at him. He ignored it and focused on his cousin. "What's this about being captain of the football team?"

Bo grinned, and the conversation began anew.

A little less than an hour later, the family room was quiet. Wrung out to the bone, Luke had fallen dead asleep against the corner of the couch, mid-conversation, and his family was content to watch him sleep, thinking their own thoughts. Jesse was thinking about what the coming days might hold, for good and bad, after all Luke had been through. Daisy was thinking about dinner and all of Luke's favorite foods, which she'd make sure were on the menu for some while. It was Bo who finally broke the silence.

"Boy, he sure looks plumb tuckered out, don't he?" he commented softly.

"He looks terrible," Daisy agreed a little more bluntly, just as softly.

"Well, he's just tired, that's all," Jesse reassured them. He gently brushed a hand over his nephew's short, fuzzy hair, and smiled a little to see Luke sigh softly under the soothing touch. "He's been through a lot, and he'll probably be worn out for a few days, until he gets used to being home again. But, with some good down-home country cookin' and some rest, he'll be just fine. He'll be right back to raising a ruckus with you two before you know it."

That made Bo smile a little. He'd thought about it rather often – daydreaming, really, when he should have been paying attention in class – about getting to hang out with his older cousin, his best friend, his blood brother, once again. Fishing, hiking, camping – he'd be old enough for his first legal drink at the Boar's Nest pretty soon – then there was that race car they'd talked about building together. Even if all they did was sit out on the porch with some of Daisy's sweet tea, Bo would be thrilled just to be able to talk to him again.

But then, among his daydreams, he'd think about where Luke was, and what he might be doing at that moment – sleeping in a muddy ditch with his pack for a pillow, sneaking silently through the jungle in a surprise attack, parachuting into a hot zone to rescue a trapped unit – after all that, how could anything Bo had to say really be important anymore? Luke wouldn't want to hear about the stupid, petty problems of his kid cousin anymore – he'd been to war, seen real problems. Those were the days when Bo truly felt the distance between Hazzard, Georgia and Vietnam, and, lost and alone, he'd quietly seek out his uncle for his loving, understanding embrace, exactly the way he didn't notice Luke doing at the train station.

Jesse stood now, leaning over to gently touch his slumbering nephew's arm. "Luke…"

"Mmmm?"

"Luke, wake up, son. Let's get you into a real bed."

"Mmm."

"Come on…"

Blinking sleepily; Luke let himself be pulled to his feet and led along, with Jesse's arm around his waist to steady him. Daisy went on ahead to pull back the blankets on his bed, and Bo followed along behind, stopping to watch from the doorway. Jesse settled his nephew into bed fully clothed and tucked the blankets around him against the cool late October air. He was almost immediately sound asleep again. It was just after three o'clock.

Bo paced impatiently from the family room to the kitchen and back again, sitting down on the couch, only to jump up again a moment later. Daisy smiled at him from the countertop, where she was flouring chicken to fry for dinner. Her little cousin was so full of nervous energy, he hardly knew what to do with himself. Jesse had long since gone outside to tend to the chickens and the goats, driven to distraction by Bo's fidgeting.

A floorboard creaked under Bo's booted foot, and he cringed, looking down the hallway towards the bedroom for some response. After a minute of silence, Bo breathed again, and tip-toed into the kitchen, slumping down into a chair. Daisy patted his shoulder and set a glass of cold tea on the table in front of him. She hoped it would keep him occupied long enough for her to finish dinner preparations without sending a piece of floured raw chicken flying at his head.

Luke had been out cold for going on three hours now, back in his own bed, in his own bedroom, on the Duke farm, where he belonged. The Duke family was smiling like they hadn't in a very long time - after so many distant letters and hopes and prayers, Luke was finally Home. Bo was positively wired, and Jesse wondered if it might have been better to send him to football practice to run off that energy.

The principal had graciously allowed him to take the last Friday in October off school, and the coach let him off afternoon practice, in light of Luke's homecoming. Three of Bo's teachers might have had something to do with the decision, after dealing with him in class all week since hearing the good news - 'disruptive' wasn't the word for it. His football coach only hoped he wouldn't be too distracted to perform well at Saturday's game - not just any game, but the game that would determine whether the Hazzard Hawks squeaked into the regional playoffs, or whether they'd lose to Chickasaw again for the fifth year running. Coach Maugul wanted his best linebacker in top form for the game.

Bo had taken one sip of tea when the front porch door opened and Jesse came back inside. The young man jumped to his feet again, but Jesse waved him down with a slight smile.

"Dinner won't be long, Uncle Jesse," Daisy informed him, done with flouring the chicken and now heating up the frying pan.

"We're not going to wake him up, are we?" Bo asked with concern, looking up at his uncle.

Jesse thought for a moment before answering. "No…no, I reckon he needs to sleep, just now. We can always heat something up for him later, but for now, we'll leave him be."

Bo and Daisy nodded ready agreement.

"You, on the other hand," Jesse went on, fixing Bo with a stern look. "You've got some work to do for Mr. Keller, that I believe he already paid you for. He stopped by a little bit ago to ask where you've been all week."

Bo flushed. In all the excitement, he'd clean forgotten his agreement to exercise Mr. Keller's horses and fix up the stalls and the barn. Since the beginning of summer, he'd been working all kinds of odd jobs around town, trying to save up enough money for that engine he'd seen advertised in the regional gazette. It was worn out, rusted, needed new parts, retooling, and a whole lot of TLC, but Bo knew it was perfect, the first piece of the stock car he'd dreamed about racing since he was old enough to know what a car was. Every two weeks, he flipped nervously through the gazette, hoping it was still there, but after five long months, he didn't have enough by half. Still, every bit counted, and the steady stream of odd jobs offered by kindly neighbors fueled his hope.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Jesse, I guess I just forgot. I'll head over right after dinner," Bo answered apologetically. Jesse wasn't entirely appeased.

"You do that. I told Mr. Keller you'd be happy to help him for an extra two weeks to make up for the week he lost."

Stopping himself just short of protesting - Bo did know better by now - he just nodded. "Yes, sir."

It was late when Bo returned from the Keller's farm up the road, and Jesse was just heading to bed himself. After shutting off the lights, he followed Bo down the hall to check on his eldest nephew before turning in. Uncle and nephew both stood quietly in the doorway of the bedroom, looking in by hallway light.

At seven hours, Luke was still sleeping deeply, warm and tucked in with nary a flicker of an eyelash. He didn't exactly look peaceful, Jesse thought - calm, quiet, weary, but not peaceful. The old man had the sudden urge to run in, gather Luke up tightly in his arms, and never let go. A thousand times he'd questioned his decision to let Luke leave, and the thousand reasons he had allowed it hardly made up for the thousand wakeful nights, fearing for his life with every news report and mail delivery. This was a sight he'd prayed for every morning and night for thirty-eight months - to see Luke safe and sound, asleep in his own bed, protected under Jesse's roof once again. Nothing had been the same without him, nor ever would have been, if the Good Lord had taken him. Apparently, Bo was thinking along the same lines.

"I never could get used to that empty bed," the boy commented softly.

Jesse patted his shoulder reassuringly. In his worry for Luke, it was easy to forget his pride for both his boys and his little girl. Bo could be a little wild and reckless sometimes, but he was following his cousin's footsteps and growing into a fine young man. And Daisy - more often than not, Daisy was the glue that held the Duke household together. Now with Luke back - Jesse's family was whole again. He only prayed it would stay that way.

Now, I sure am happy to see Luke home, but somethin' tells me there's a whole lot more to this story than just a good ol' boy coming home. Guess we'll have to wait and see…

"He was nineteen in green, with a new M-Sixteen, just doin' what he had to do…
He was dropped in the jungle where the choppers would rumble, and the smell of napalm in the air…"
- "Eighth of November" by Big & Rich

"Seems to me we have an obligation to do the right thing…"
- Luke Duke, 'Undercover Dukes'