Chapter 10 – Luke
LUKE
It was hard to believe, but Luke hadn’t set foot on the Calder Ridge University campus in years, since before he left for L.A.
The place had changed, needless to say. New, generic buildings mixed with old stone ones.
Students were everywhere, with backpacks and coffee cups and the easy confidence of the young.
Jack had texted Luke to say he was free for lunch, and Luke offered to drive to campus. It was a nice day and a good chance to get out of the gym for a few minutes. He’d also been curious about Jack’s work setup.
In the Veterans Center, in a newer wing of the main admin building, Luke met a bearded young man stapling flyers to a bulletin board.
“Second door on the left," he said, directing Luke down the hall toward Jack's office. "He has a student with him, but he should be done soon.”
Luke nodded and walked down the hall when he heard someone’s voice from an open door.
“I can’t do it, Sir,” a man said. “I look at the assignment, and my mind goes blank. It’s like I’m back there, you know?”
Luke heard Jack’s voice, calm and steady. “I do know," Jack said. "It helped me break it all down. I didn't think about the whole paper. Try writing one paragraph about what happened on that day only."
"I can’t," the other person began.
"You told me the story last week. You can tell it again on paper,” Jack said. “You survived a tour in Afghanistan, Martinez. You can survive writing an essay about it."
Martinez let out a shaky laugh. “When you put it like that.”
“One paragraph,” Jack repeated. “That’s all. Bring it to me on Thursday, and we’ll build from there. Imagine you’re talking to me, then write what you say. Hell, you can even speak into your phone and type what you record.”
Martinez stood and asked, “That’s not cheating?”
“That’s not cheating,” Jack said.
Luke felt like he was intruding on a sacred moment between teacher and student.
But he also felt blessed to see this side of Jack in action.
Here, he was helping a vulnerable person in need, drawing on his own difficult experiences, sharing them openly, and offering tactics for achieving the goal of expressing himself in his essay.
He wondered, What else about this man haven’t I seen yet?
Martinez nodded, stood, and walked toward Luke. He was compact and wiry, with the watchful posture of someone trained to notice everything. Luke thought he looked tired yet on high alert. Martinez walked past Luke and mumbled, “Sir.”
Jack looked up and saw Luke in the doorway. His expression softened.
Luke stepped into the office and looked around. Small but neat. A desk, two chairs, and bookshelves lined with history texts and a few worn paperbacks. A single photo on the shelf: Jack in uniform, younger, somewhere hot and dry. No personal touches beyond that, yet. No plants, no clutter.
This was a traveling man’s current workspace, not a man’s life.
“Hey,” Jack said. “Ready for lunch?”
“Yeah.” Luke leaned against the doorframe. “How’s that kid doing?”
“Panic attacks,” Jack said, shutting down his computer. “It’s more common than you’d think. Many of them came back with PTSD and can’t focus, can’t write. Most of the time, they just need someone to walk them through it.”
“You’re good at it.”
Jack shrugged and grabbed his jacket. “I’ve been there," he said.
“Maybe you could tell me about it sometime,” Luke offered.
Jack looked him in the eye and smiled. “Thank you. I will sometime. But right now… let’s go eat!”
They walked across the quad together under cloudy skies.
Inside, the union hall was casual—counter service, wooden tables, and large windows overlooking the quad. A few faculty members nodded to Jack as they passed. One woman—with dark hair and sharp eyes—smiled a bit too long before looking away.
“You're a popular guy,” Luke said teasingly as he slid into a booth.
“Fresh meat," Jack joked, grabbing menus from behind the napkin holder. “The salads are good. Burgers are fine."
After they ordered, Luke noticed Jack settling into the booth, shoulders relaxed, jaw unclenched, and almost smiling. He seemed comfortable and content in this purpose and this setting.
“How’s the first real week going?” Luke asked.
“Good. Busy.” Jack took a drink of water. "The veterans program is the most interesting part. These kids... " He shook his head. "I’m glad places like this exist to help them.”
After their food arrived, they ate in easy silence for a while, the kind that didn’t need filling.
“This is good,” Luke said, meaning the food, but also the ease of it, the pleasure of sitting across from Jack on a Tuesday, talking about nothing and everything.
“Yeah,” Jack said, and Luke wondered if he meant the same thing.
“I got some news this morning,” Luke said. “Bad news, actually.”
“What’s that?”
“We lost a big donor for the fundraiser. Did I tell you about the annual fundraiser?”
“You did. At dinner. Sounded important.”
“It is. And it just became more so.”
Jack nodded, listening intently.
Before Luke could say anything else, a familiar voice cut through the background buzz of the bistro.
“Jack! Howdy, stranger.”
Hallicks appeared at their table, his ever-present coffee in hand, his glasses already sliding down his nose. His eyes flicked from Jack to Luke with open curiosity.
“Dean Hallicks,” Jack said. “This is Luke Calder. We knew each other in high school, and we’ve been spending time together since I got back.”
Hallicks’ eyebrows went up. He looked at Luke with new interest; he couldn’t hide.
“Calder?” he repeated. "As in...?"
“Yes,” Luke said. “As in.”
“Well.” Hallicks extended his warm, firm hand. “Luke. I have to say, I know The Ridge. Everyone does. And the Calder family history—the silver strike, the mine, the whole saga—it’s one of Colorado’s great stories.”
Luke was used to strangers talking about his family history and not feeling much connection to it.
So many generations had passed that it wasn’t much more than a story to him, either, but he didn’t mind the interest. And there was something endearing about Hallicks’ enthusiasm as he pulled up a chair without being invited and sat down, leaning toward Luke.
“Do you climb?" he asked. "Hike? I’m becoming obsessed with some of the trails I’ve read about that no one can find. They connected various settlements and strikes, but they’re lost to time.
Maybe someone with your depth of knowledge could help us connect with the past and see what’s still there that might be valuable. ”
Luke smiled and said, “I hike a little, but I'm no climber."
“Hiking counts. Trust me.” Hallicks pushed his glasses up, glanced at Jack, then back at Luke, and a knowing look settled on his face. “I’ve intruded on your lunch enough. Something tells me I’ll be seeing you around, Luke. I’ll look forward to a proper conversation!”
He stood, raised his coffee in a brief salute, and headed back to his table.
Jack watched him leave. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. He’s great.” Luke took a sip of water. “And he’s right, actually. I know more about this town’s history than I probably should.”
“Yeah?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet,” Luke said.
Jack held his gaze for a moment. “I’m seeing that every day.”
Luke smiled. Had Jack been paying attention at a deeper level than Luke had thought? It was hard to tell sometimes, the way Luke felt Jack’s attention come and go, like a spotlight directed by an invisible stagehand. Could Luke let his guard down a bit now?
“Good,” he said. “Keep watching.”
After lunch, they ambled back to where Luke had parked. Jack held the door open, a gesture that earned a smile from Luke.
"I'm glad you came out. That was nice," Jack said.
"Next time, I'm bringing a plant for that office," Luke said.
They looked at each other with smiles. Jack’s expression was open and unguarded in a way Luke hadn’t seen since Wednesday night at Delmonico’s.
Luke thought about the man he’d watched with Martinez, about Jack's ease when Hallicks surprised them. Jack was present and grounded and didn’t seem to be scoping escape routes.
Could he be at ease like that even away from work?