Wild Hearts

by Jessica Burkhart

  Logan knelt by my side. “Are you okay?” The concern in his voice made me forget about my minor scrapes.

  “I’m fine. I just tripped. I was walking around,” I said, waving an arm and trying to sound casual. I didn’t want him to know that I’d tracked him down. “When I saw you and Holden, I didn’t want to bother you. It looked like you two were having fun.”

  Logan pulled a blue handkerchief out of his pocket and bent down to swish it around in the creek water. He came back and brushed my hand away from my knee and motioned for me to stretch my legs out to him. Logan sat cross-legged on the ground and took both of my legs over his lap. He started wiping my knees. “So, you were just walking around Black Creek and you saw us, huh?” Logan asked, not looking up from my left knee.

  “Yeah, coincidence, right?” I said, my voice was dangerously high.

  “That’s funny,” Logan said, looking up at me. “Because Jerry texted me a while ago and said he gave some super-cute girl directions here.”

  “Oh, stupid boy code,” I said, shaking my head. “Fine. I’m busted.”

  Logan grinned. “You were talking to Jerry about me?”

  “No,” I said, smiling. “I just asked him if you were working and he said you were watching Holden. I might have come here to see you, but when I saw you with Holden, I—”

  “It’s okay!” Logan cut me off, grinning. “You can talk to Jerry about me, but I’d like it more if you talked to me instead.”

  I looked away from him and down at my knees. Logan had managed to remove most of the gravel from my shallow scrapes. I was suddenly aware that my bare legs were strewn across his lap. My face felt like it was on fire as I tried to gracefully ease my legs off him and stand. Logan jumped up and offered me a hand.

  I grasped his palm and let him help me. The warm feeling from his hand spread to my face.

  “Is your brother okay over there?” I glanced over Logan’s shoulder and saw Holden still in the same position—huddled on a rock. At that age, I would have been off exploring the woods. I wouldn’t have listened to Kate at all.

  “Holden? You okay?” Logan called.

  “Yes,” Holden said. His voice was soft.

  “We’re coming over,” Logan said. He looked down at my knees. “Can you walk?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “It’s nothing but a flesh wound,” I teased, quoting one of my favorite movies and wondering if Logan would get the reference.

  “Monty Python,” Logan exclaimed.

  I nodded as we started to make our way over to Holden. “Right,” I said. “I watch way too many movies.”

  Logan started to answer back until he looked at Holden’s face. Holden’s mouth was clamped tight and he wouldn’t look at me. Great, I scared him with my bloody knees.

  “Holden, it’s okay,” Logan said, leaving me to hop across the creek and crouch by his brother. “This is my friend Brie. She’s new in town. Remember how scared you were to go to school on your first day because you were new? Brie’s feeling like that, so let’s make her comfortable, okay?”

  Holden didn’t say a word, he just nodded his head slowly.

  Logan prodded him. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” Holden whispered. He lifted his chin that had been resting on his drawn-up knees.

  Logan walked back to the creek, darted across and held my hand as I crossed.

  “Sit here, Brie,” Logan said, motioning to a rock covered with a plaid flannel blanket.

  “Do your knees hurt?” Holden asked. He enunciated each word clearly.

  “They did,” I said. “Logan helped me and I’m okay now.”

  Holden nodded and stood. His tennis shoes were scuffed and his jeans looked worn. He had on a thin red T-shirt with a gray zip-up jacket. The clothes looked a size too big for his small body.

  “Iodine,” he said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Put iodine on your knees so they don’t get infected.”

  “Okay, I will. Thanks.” He gave me a small smile and hopped off the rock. Maybe Logan had a future doctor on his hands.

  “Why don’t you grab the sandwiches from our backpack, Holden,” Logan said.

  Holden headed for a navy-colored backpack a few yards away.

  “Your brother is really cute,” I said. “And smart.”

  Logan’s eyes were on his brother as he sat on the big rock next to me. “He’s always been a precocious kid. Sorry for the look he gave you when you and I walked over.”

  “It’s okay. I’m just glad I found you guys. We, um, haven’t really talked or anything since . . .” I let my voice trail off. I didn’t want to come across like one of those girls who counted hours since they last saw their boyfriends. And that wasn’t how I felt, anyway. There was just something unexplainable about a pull that I felt to Logan. But I had to fight it. This was the guy who had revved his engine at me when we first met. The son of my family’s biggest enemy. But . . . this was also the guy who took me four-wheeling and liked hearing about where I’d lived and how I got here. Talk about confusing.

  “I’ve been a total jerk since our ATV ride,” Logan said. “I should have texted or something. I mean, not that you were waiting for me to text.”

  “I wasn’t,” I said, shaking my head.

  “This is the first time since then that I’ve been free of work in town or work at home,” Logan said. He tipped his cowboy hat back and his eyes met mine. “Have you hiked along any of the trails we found the other day?”

  “I’ve been too busy,” I said. “You know, working for my dad.”

  The end of my sentence just stuck in the air. I felt as though it formed an invisible barrier between us.

  “Have you thought through the things I said about the horses?” Logan asked.

  I nodded. “Yes. But it’s not like I can share them with my dad.”

  “I understand that,” Logan said. “I really do. I’ve been talking to some of the locals and I’m trying to get an appointment to meet with someone from the local Bureau of Land Management. I want to ask their permission to move the horses from your dad’s job site.”

  “That’s perfect!” I said. “How soon can you get an appointment? Dad barks at everyone any time the horses show up. He has a call into the BLM, too, but he’s not good at the waiting part. He got really pissed when his foreman told him that they had to talk to the BLM before moving the horses. The permits that he has don’t cover moving the horses.”

  “I hope I get in before your dad does,” Logan said. “I want those mustangs to stay around here and be as free as possible.”

  I started to respond, but Holden reached the rock and set down two brown bags.

  Logan ripped open a bag and tossed me a wrapped sandwich. “We’ve got the McCoy special. Luckily for you, we always pack extra grub.”

  “And that would be?” I asked, peering at the package.

  “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Holden informed me, his eyes watching me as he unwrapped his sandwich.

  “Ever had one?” Logan asked, winking.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe once or twice.”

  Logan and Holden had already dug into their sandwiches. Holden watched Logan eat and then mimicked his big brother’s large bites.

  I took a bite of mine.

  “Do you like it?” Holden asked.

  “I love it,” I said. “Next time, I’ll make you guys my signature sandwich.”

  “What’s that?” Logan said as he wiped peanut butter from the corner of his mouth.

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” I said, taking a big bite. Logan opened the other bag and handed me a Sprite.

  “Thanks,” I said. I opened my soda and was about to take a sip when my phone rang. I plucked it out of the mini satchel that I’d been carrying.

  “Brie? You okay?” Dad asked. Through the phone, I could hear the clicking of keys as he typed.

  I checked the time on the phone. I’d been gone almost two hours.

  �
�Sorry, Dad, I’m fine,” I said. “I ran into one of my friends and I lost track of time.”

  “Okay, hon,” Dad said. “Take the rest of the day off—I’ve got everything covered. Just be home for dinner.”

  “I will,” I said.

  I hung up and put the phone back.

  “My dad,” I explained. “Just checking on me.”

  “Can I go over there?” Holden asked Logan.

  “Where?” Logan asked.

  Holden pointed to a spot across the creek.

  “Okay, just remember our brother pact,” Logan said.

  “We always have to be able to see each other,” Holden said.

  “You got it,” Logan said, high-fiving his brother.

  Holden smiled shyly at me as he got up.

  Logan and I watched Holden navigate his way across the creek and crouch near a boulder.

  “I did some reading online,” I said. “About the horses.”

  I’d done more than just a casual search online. I’d spent hours and hours online when I was alone in my room late at night. I read articles about the fate of American mustang herds, and watched videos of the horses being corralled and shoved into trailers. There were even scarier videos of mustang cruelty that I didn’t have the stomach to watch. Each night after work, I’d eat dinner before rushing upstairs to my laptop. I’d bookmarked site after site about the horses.

  Logan nodded slowly. “What did you read?”

  “A lot. But all the articles basically had the same conclusion— the wild horse population is in danger. They’re running out of room because of . . .” I paused. “Um, because of businesses like my dad’s.”

  “That’s all true,” Logan said. He stood and sat on a rock closer to me. “The issue isn’t stopping your dad, like I told you. I promise that I don’t want to do anything to cause problems in your family.”

  “I wish everyone could see this the way that you do,” I said.

  “What he’s building, even though it is costing the horses room, is going to bring money into the town,” Logan said. “Lost Springs is desperate for jobs and a cash infusion.”

  “What do you want to happen now for the horses?” I asked.

  “It’s kind of a waiting game,” Logan said. “Everyone invested in the horses is watching how often the horses go to your dad’s job site. If they stay away from the construction, then we have some time to think about what to do.”

  “And if they don’t?” I asked.

  “Then we’ll have to find some land to temporarily corral them,” Logan said, frowning. “It’s not my first choice of options, but it is a solution that will keep them safe. Your dad isn’t their only enemy. Other people have gone after them. The young ones are in danger from mountain lions to coyotes. Sick or injured mustangs are in danger, too. Even good, healthy horses have a lot stacked against them.”

  “What’s your dream scenario?” I asked.

  Logan was quiet for a moment. He glanced across the creek and watched Holden build a stick and rock fort.

  “Ideally,” he said, glancing back at me, “we find nearby land for them to be free and wild. We herd them to that space and they’ll have everything they need and no reason to come back to your dad’s site.”

  “You don’t want to keep any of them?”

  Logan smiled. “Maybe. I mean, I would have to get the BLM’s permission first. It might be fun to have a few colts to tame.”

  “Have you ever worked with a wild horse before?”

  Logan nodded. “One. My horse—LG—was a wild foal when I got him five years ago.”

  “LG,” I said. “What does that stand for?”

  “Don’t laugh,” Logan said, grinning. “But it’s Logan’s Gelding.”

  I nervously giggled. “Sorry, sorry!” I said. Logan’s eyes were wide and he shook his head.

  “I told you not to laugh!” Logan said. But he laughed with me.

  “Do you name all your pets with your name?” I asked. “Is there a Logan’s Dog, or a Logan’s Cat?”

  “Ha,” Logan said, rolling his eyes but keeping a smile on his face.

  “How did you get him?”

  “One of my dad’s friends was moving his cattle in for the winter when he found an abandoned foal. My dad took him and gave him to me. It was about two weeks after my mom left. Dad said I could keep him if I trained him.”

  “Wow,” I said, my voice quiet. “That’s amazing timing.”

  “I let Holden name him,” Logan said. “Even though it’s a silly name, I never thought of changing it. Every second that I wasn’t working for my dad or in school, I was with LG. Wait until you meet him—you’ll see how he follows me like a big dog.”

  “Aw, I can’t wait,” I said.

  “You’ve been here, what?” Logan asked. “Two weeks?”

  I nodded. “Something like that.”

  “I think it’s time you were exposed to a little Western culture,” Logan said. “Are you busy on Saturday?”

  I blinked at him. It had been forever since someone had asked me that question.

  “Um, no. I’m free.” The words tumbled out.

  “There’s a fair not far from here,” Logan said. “I go every year. It’s a cruelty-free rodeo type of event. I’m competing in calf roping. I’m giving Amy a ride. It would be nice if you came.”

  “That sounds fun,” I said. “I’d like to go.”

  I smiled at him, barely realizing that in the time we had been talking, Logan had moved closer and closer to me. He was close enough that I smelled cinnamon and sweet hay on his shirt. He placed a hand on my back and it sent little shock waves up and down my arms. I leaned closer to him and—

  “Logan!”

  I blinked, my body frozen for a moment. I snapped out of it and sat up straight. Logan sat up, too, pulling away from me and looking at Holden.

  “What’s up, bud?” Logan asked.

  That was way too close! I told myself. You were totally going to kiss him! It was hard enough to keep pushing away my growing feelings for Logan. The last thing I needed was any physical component to complicate things more.

  Despite everything I’d just told myself, I rubbed my thumb over my bottom lip, wondering how it would feel to be kissed by Logan.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A man who’s honest with himself will be honest with others.

  Huffing and sweating, I shifted my backpack and glanced over at Mom. I really needed to bike more and add some incline to my workouts. We were hiking around the base of Blackheart Mountain. Amy had drawn me a map to a cavern where Mom could take photographs. I peered at the napkin Amy had used for the map and squinted to read her slanted handwriting.

  Mom thought I spent my free time hanging out with Amy, which was partly true, but she didn’t know anything about Logan. It felt weird to keep my friendship with him a secret from Mom. I’d always told her everything. I’d picked today to take Mom hiking and tell her about Logan since Saturday’s festival was coming up.

  Since our Black Creek picnic I’d seen Logan almost every day. I’d started going to WyGas for lunch and we would hang out. Or, I’d bike to Watson’s if it was his day to be there. Yesterday, he’d ridden LG to his shift at WyGas. Meeting LG was like meeting a member of his family. Logan understood that I hadn’t told my parents that we hung out together. Although it wasn’t as though he had told his dad that we were spending time together, either.

  When we couldn’t find time to hang out, we texted. I really wished my phone had a cowboy hat emoticon. I visualized one beside Logan’s name in my phone.

  “Oh, Brie,” Mom said, adjusting her neon green backpack with the hundred pockets that housed all her photography equipment. “Look at that.”

  A huge waterfall ran down the mountain and plunged sharply into a shallow pool below. A cloud of mist sprayed off the bottom and a couple of rainbows shimmered.

  “Let’s get a shot of this,” I said.

  We walked a few yards closer until the waterfall almos
t drowned out our voices. We set our backpacks on the ground. We each took out our tripods and carefully unfolded the legs. I screwed my camera to the top and peered at the LCD screen. I began clicking at the waterfall. I got shots of the falls, the bubbles below, and some of the fading rainbow. I checked my picture review feature and liked the color and angle of my shots.

  Beside me, Mom clicked thoughtfully and moved the tripod around as she angled for the best light. “I think I’ve got it now,” she said, yelling over the falls.

  “Okay, let’s keep walking.” We packed up our cameras and equipment and I took one last glance at the waterfall. Lost Springs’ nature amazed me more every day.

  After a few more minutes of walking, I stopped and rechecked Amy’s detailed map. “I think we’re almost there,” I said.

  We stepped through a patch of waist-high grass that turned into weeds and then cleared to stone. We were now squarely along the base of the mountain and it got quieter the closer we got. At the same time, we spotted an opening in the side of the mountain.

  “There it is!” I said. Thank God Amy’s map was right. My hiking boots were giving me a blister and the backpack straps had started to dig into my shoulders.

  “Where did you say you got those directions?” Mom said as she stepped up to the dark entrance.

  “Amy.”

  We switched on our flashlights. Cool air trickled out of the cave and made my arm hair prickle uncomfortably. A sweatshirt would have been a good idea.

  Mom reached into her pocket and pulled out a ball of yellow string. “Tie that to the tree over there,” she said, pointing to a skinny tree next to me.

  “This won’t snap, will it?” I said.

  “It’s heavy duty,” Mom promised. She yanked the string to prove it. “It’ll hold.”

  I knotted the string around the tree and let the rope run through my hands. I’d learned how to tie knots thanks to some of Dad’s crew.

  The only time I’d ever been inside a cave before had been during a guided tour, complete with a lit path and handrails, at the Diamond Caverns in Kentucky. This way, unplanned and without a guide, was so much better.