Hey all! Thanks to those who have been reading this story, and special thanks to those who sit a spell and visit with me in the form of a review.

As I keep saying, this one's a little different. At first this chapter may feel a little odd, but it's one that moves quickly through time. Once you know that, I think the transitions will be less jarring. Other than that, I won't go into long explanations. When this story gets where it's going -- well, it'll be there. As Cooter would say, "Man, that's obtuse."

I don't own the characters and no harm is meant to those that do. I borrow them for fun, not profit.

Chapter 3 – Big Toes Never Lie

He always had been too stubborn for his own good. Jesse wanted him somewhere else, and he was going just about as far away as he could. On a Greyhound, with unforgiving seats, a stupid loose suspension and just reeking of exhaust. He should probably offer to fix that. They only had another fifteen hundred or so more miles to go…

Leaving in fall, too, when everything was just so – yellow. Sunshine and foliage and how could he ever leave a home like this? The mountains were already flattening towards hills. He knew that'd change again soon enough, into bigger mountains than he'd ever climbed. It wouldn't matter though. Tiny little hollows and valleys, sunshine and blonde – er – yellow leaves, bow hunting and Bo Duke. All the things it was hurting him to leave behind.

He, too, had declined to take the General. Where he was going, a power car with rear-wheel drive would only be useful maybe six months out of the year. The rest of the time it'd be buried in snow drifts. Yet another reason to be mad at his cousin. Without Bo around, he probably would have gotten himself a more practical car by now.

He should have known that Bo would wind up taller than him. His cousin was nothing if not big, in everything he did. Big and loud and just dang complete about it. Grinning hopelessly on a good day and chin-to-chest sulking on a bad one. Bigger than him? Bo had always been.

And as much as Luke was hating this bus trip, Bo's had been worse. He knew this because at first his cousin had called almost every hour. Told him everything, just like they used to do in their beds (within arm's reach) at night, with that same kind of openness that he'd never learned to hide. Sighed deeply, sniffled a bit, always forgot to ask how Luke was doing (just like the brat to do that). Not that Luke would have told him or anything.

And within a week, Bo began to settle down. Maybe even like it a little. Stupid cousin adjusted and was fine and Luke was on a bus headed for Montana of all places, suffering with a hard seat and a loose suspension (must be coming down with a cold, too, eyes all raw and nose kind of runny).

Girls. Suddenly it was clear to him: Jesse had sent them away to find girls – women – wives. As long as they were together in Hazzard, they were content to play at dating, a new girl every night, sometimes two if the first one didn't work out. Jesse wanted grandkids (or as close as he was going to get, anyway) and probably figured there must be something wrong with L.D. or Daisy would be pregnant already. (His uncle didn't much care for Daisy's husband either, Luke was sure of it.)

Called Bo at his apartment in Atlanta and told him. Girls, cousin, that's what Jesse wants for us. Heard Bo giggle and realized the futility. Could just see that drooling grin spreading across Bo's face, as if they were back in Cooter's Garage and some pretty thing had just strolled into view. That boy would never get it – and where Luke was? There just weren't any available women. Smoke-jumper in the northwestern mountains. Forestry Service. What the hell had he been thinking? Only that the most alive he'd ever felt was in those split seconds of flight right after his feet left the General's hood, and just before they landed on whatever he was jumping to. Hard-headed fool, his uncle reminded him from somewhere in the back of his mind.

When he was racing he was just fine. Hardly ever looked over at the passenger seat for that lopsided grin anymore. And off the track he had friends, too, and they were fun. But they weren't Luke. Or Jesse. Or Daisy.

Daisy. Traveling like he did throughout the southeast, he actually got to see more of her. Poor girl just didn't look happy.

"He treatin' you okay, darlin'?"

"Bo…" she said, half-chastising, not too smart like Luke, just older than you so quit worrying about me.

Lines on her face and somehow she wasn't so young anymore. Bo tried to figure out whether this was normal or not, tried to compare his own face to hers, looking for signs that he was aging, too (a shame to see such a pretty face with lines on it – didn't know whether he meant himself or Daisy with that thought) but it was pointless. Thing was, she didn't smile much these days.

"He cheatin' on you?"

"I don't know."

"But you think so." No question in that, they were doing that famous Dukes mind-reading trick again.

"Bo, I know you're just worried about me, but he's my husband…" And if husband was more important than cousin. Wished Luke was here to pull that whole older cousin, and just you listen to me thing. Wished Luke was here anyway.

That first Christmas, Luke couldn't make it home, what with being new and in training and all. Training and structure – like the military – somehow worked for that boy, though his old uncle would never understand it. Seemed to be disobedient enough when he lived under Jesse's roof.

Bo and Daisy came, and seeing them made him question every decision he'd made for those kids. His girl couldn't stay long, or wouldn't. Something was wrong at home (Jesse's big toe never lied) and she didn't want to stay long enough to have to open up about it. He could corner her, but she had conflicting loyalties now. She'd only say it was something she had to figure out on her own. And Jesse would have to let her find her own way, as much as he wanted to scoop her into his arms like the little charmer she'd once been. But if he learned that that boy she'd hitched up with wasn't treating her right, he would turn Bo and Luke loose on him without batting an eyelash.

Bo was different, had some time to visit and some money in his pocket. Stayed awhile and more than once Jesse caught him turning to the side, about to drop a sarcastic comment like a cherry bomb, only to find empty air where Luke ought to have been. Turned red (boy was born red, actually, and screaming his fool lungs out. No need to spank that one. Whereas Luke had come out all quiet and giant blue eyes just daring his midwife-of-an-uncle to force him to breathe) and mumbled something while shrugging off Jesse's gentle hand.

Made the old man question everything.

But he wasn't going to live forever (J.D. Hogg wouldn't last another year, and he was six months younger than Jesse) and before those kids of his committed to a life of farming this plot of land in Hazzard County, he wanted them to experience other things. Wanted them to choose this life, not just stick with it because they didn't know no different. Wanted to give them something he'd never had – a choice. Not that they'd appreciate it or anything. Jesse had lived long enough to know that choices involved pain. But they shouldn't be like him, looking back and wondering what if –

Bo was beautiful, just stunning, to watch. For the briefest of moments Luke wondered what it would be like to be riding shotgun right now, knew it was impossible, no room in that roll cage for two, but wondered anyway. Decided, however, that he'd seen enough through the windshield of the General to make this feel quite tame, at least from inside the car. But out here, up here, not in the pit but the stands, it was sheer thrill from start to finish. Never thought he'd enjoy just watching a race quite this much.

Not a bit more maturity in that boy, either. He bounded out of the car like he hadn't been in restraints at all, whipped out of his helmet and looked for Luke, knew he'd be there – they'd only planned this meeting from the time Bo knew that he'd be racing in the west. Las Vegas was quite the drive from Bozeman, but it was as close as the Duke boys were likely to get to each other (from within arm's reach to this – being grateful for a less than one thousand mile separation. How did that happen? First time they'd seen each other in going on a year now – how did that happen?). Sported a completely uninhibited grin as he spotted Luke, ignoring everything that didn't involve finding the fastest route to his cousin. Sweaty body (driving was hard work) against his, arms holding tight and the stupid boy actually kissed his temple. Luke ought to smack him but – oh heck – found himself chuckling and returning the favor, closer to his ear because Bo had outgrown him, and just hoping none of Bo's buddies saw that. They'd never understand the closeness of two men that weren't even (technically) brothers (and just try explaining the meaning of being blood brothers to, well, complete strangers).

Went out with Bo's team and had a great time with like-minded men, those who loved speed and danger and a good party. Saw that Bo had a full life now, had adjusted fine and (just you stop thinking right now, Luke Duke) didn't need him anymore. Spent more of the night with Bo's friends than either of them planned, and this kept them from really talking, which was probably all right since neither of them was really a dazzling conversationalist. What had they talked about all those years in the General? (I told you to stop thinking.)

And if there was a bulb or two out in Bo's usually thousand watt smile, Luke didn't notice or if he did he put it down to his baby of a cousin finally growing up, mellowing a bit.

Too soon he felt Bo's arms grab him in a physical goodbye (what other kind could there be – this was Bo, after all), and indulged himself by ruffling those blonde curls, not quite so yellow now that he wasn't out working in the fields.

Turned north in the used pickup that he'd acquired and headed back to Montana, which had turned out to be a beautiful place in June, and a serious fire risk from July through the fall. This would be his first active season and in reality he was looking forward to it. Had adjusted as well as his cousin had. Jutted his chin and swore it was true.

The next Thanksgiving they were all home, not only to see each other and their uncle, but to pay their respects. Boss Hogg had finally passed on, leaving behind two widows, it seemed. Rosco might not technically have worn the bald man's wedding ring but he appeared to be even more lost than Lulu. And if Flash was looking frail, no one mentioned it, fearing that it might just send the sheriff all the way off the deep end.

So many distractions, from townsfolk to turkeys – and speaking of turkeys, L.D. had joined Daisy on this trip, making any time spent at the farm very tense. But the Duke girl announced her intention to become a Duke girl (as in attending the University) and everyone studiously ignored L.D.'s silence as they congratulated the first member of the clan to ever go on to higher education.

Still, the attention that the boys ought to have paid each other and their kin was lost forever to the momentous (burying the county commissioner and comforting those who had loved him) and the mundane (lumps or no lumps in the potatoes? That one had nearly started an all-out Duke clan brawl).

The General. Had sat unused for more than a year, so when Bo cocked and eyebrow (kinda both, actually) and Luke smirked (that smarter than you look, but it was all right because Bo was about to show him a move or two and figured Luke'd be white knuckled soon enough) no words were necessary. Climbed in the windows and off they went. Felt so good they almost forgot to get home in time for dinner. A trip over the knee for each of them if that happened.

Except, Jesse didn't look like hide-tanning would be such a smart activity for him to undertake. A little pale (need to get back to farming, spend those days outdoors) and peaked, but he just plain glowed with happiness to have his family together, so they didn't think about it too much. Tried not to think about anything.

Luke had a flight (more money in the family now than there ever had been, enough to fix up the old farmhouse. The boys had offered, and Jesse promised to think about it) to catch and Daisy had a long drive. Bo's trip would be the shortest, in fact, after dropping Luke off (silent hug in the terminal – Don't go a thought, but not words) he only had about six miles left. Almost home and then The Eagles were on the radio: Take it Easy. Remembered, suddenly, an era when time spent with Luke was such an ample thing that they spent a lot of it singing, was thinking this and couldn't see well, then suddenly felt the familiar vertigo of the car rolling. Stunned, still strapped in, no idea how he got to be on his roof instead of his tires. Walked away with bruises, Duke luck (sometimes bad, but when it came to car accidents, always good - they never got hurt) still intact.

Didn't even bother to tell his family. Used to be they rolled a car at least once a year, sometimes on purpose (Roll it over, but don't kill us! Yet another one of those orders that Bo wouldn't have taken from anyone but Luke). No need to worry his family about something so trivial as a wrecked car. It wasn't as if they'd never seen one.

Phone ringing at eleven at night, had to be Luke. For all those smarts, his cousin never had learned to think about the time difference. As if whenever he wanted to talk, Bo should just be there. Not that eleven was actually late, but no one else would call at that hour.

"What?" he answered the phone, not bothering with pleasantries. Hated that Luke assumed he'd just be there, hated that he was. Wiped across his sweaty brow, because it was one of those sneaky spring days in the deep south where the heat didn't seem to know that it was supposed to let up long enough to allow a body to get some sleep.

"Bo." Cluelessness in that tone. Not seeming to know how insulting it was that he'd just assumed Bo would have nothing better to do than – "Uncle Jesse wants us home."

"Wants us…" Fear dawning into his tone.

"I don't know why, cuz. He ain't said. But he wants us home, soon as we can make it. Can you pick me up at the airport? My flight gets in at eight o'clock tomorrow mornin', your time." Proving that Luke did, in fact, know that there was such a thing as a time zone.