Wild Hearts by Jessica Burkhart Page B

said.
    â€œWhat 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.”
    â€œWhat do you want to happen now for the horses?” I asked.
    â€œIt’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.”
    â€œAnd if they don’t?” I asked.
    â€œThen 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.”
    â€œWhat’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.
    â€œIdeally,” 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.”
    â€œYou 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.”
    â€œHave 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.”
    â€œLG,” I said. “What does that stand for?”
    â€œDon’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.
    â€œI told you not to laugh!” Logan said. But he laughed with me.
    â€œDo you name all your pets with your name?” I asked. “Is there a Logan’s Dog, or a Logan’s Cat?”
    â€œHa,” Logan said, rolling his eyes but keeping a smile on his face.
    â€œHow did you get him?”
    â€œOne 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.”
    â€œWow,” I said, my voice quiet. “That’s amazing timing.”
    â€œI 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.”
    â€œAw, I can’t wait,” I said.
    â€œYou’ve been here, what?” Logan asked. “Two weeks?”
    I nodded. “Something like that.”
    â€œI 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.
    â€œUm, no. I’m free.” The words tumbled out.
    â€œThere’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.”
    â€œThat 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