“Hey, Dad,” Logan said. I put down the dish towel, unsure for a second whether to smile or frown at the tall, tanned man with day-old stubble and short hair. “I didn’t think you would be home this early.”
His dad unlaced heavy work boots, leaving them by the door. “Trevor said he would finish up tonight,” Mr. McCoy said.
“Dad.” Logan took a step so he was beside me. He reached down and took my hand. “We haven’t really had time to talk lately and I’m sorry to spring this on you. This is my girlfriend, Brie.”
I smiled, nodding, and whaat?!
I looked at Logan, my eyes wide. I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. If Logan had saved the girlfriend card purposefully for this moment to shift my focus, he had done the perfect job.
“Hi,” I said, stepping forward and offered him my slightly shaking hand. “I’m Brie. Um, Brie Carter.”
Mr. McCoy stared at me for what felt like an hour. He hated me. He didn’t like that I was in his house. Wait a second . . . he was smiling. He took my hand and pumped it warmly.
“Hi, Brie, I’m Jack, Logan’s father. It’s nice to meet you.”
Panic whooshed out of me and I grinned back. “It’s good to meet you, too, Mr. McCoy.”
Was I selling out Dad by liking Mr. McCoy?
Logan’s father shook his head. “None of that ‘Mr.’ or ‘sir’ stuff. Just call me Jack.”
“Okay.” I paused and struggled to say his first name. “Jack.”
“Did you make a good roast, son?” he asked Logan as he peered into our empty pots. He placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder.
“Sure did,” Logan said, taking a covered plate out of the fridge. “I’ll heat this for you.”
“Thanks. I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be back down to eat and share dessert with you kids, if that’s okay. Brie, I want to get to know you better.” Jack smiled as he headed out of the kitchen.
When I was sure Jack was gone, I turned to Logan and threw my arms around him. “Oh, my God. One of our parents knows we’re dating. You called me your girlfriend.”
“I think that title was way overdue,” Logan said. “And my dad loved you.”
“I blinded him with my awesomeness,” I said, teasing. “He forgot that he probably has my dad’s face on his dart board.”
Logan laughed. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him. “Just remember that even if he does bring up the horses—all is quiet at your dad’s job site right now. Plus, you’re here with me on a date. You didn’t come to talk about the mustangs.”
I nodded. “I completely agree. I’m with you. Not your dad.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A cowboy is a man with guts and a horse.
“So, you’ve really lived all over the place, huh?” Jack asked, smiling at me.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin after finishing the apple pie Logan had pulled out of the fridge for dessert. Jack really seemed interested in getting to know me and had asked a lot of thoughtful questions. His blue-gray eyes, though different from Logan’s, had the same ability to make me feel as if I was the most important person in the room when I spoke.
“Yes,” I said, sipping my water. “Oh, and a houseboat in Utah for a couple of months. We were on Lake Powell.”
Jack laughed and shook his head. The three of us had been talking for over half an hour. The more time I spent with Jack, the more comfortable he made me. He had Logan’s charm, serious side and funny side, and passion when he talked about his job. He worked his ranch during the day and did bookkeeping for a sheep farm down the road on the weekends. As if that wasn’t enough, he also worked nights planting and harvesting seasonal crops. He valued hard work over everything else, but I caught him peeking at Logan and saw nothing but pride on his face. I thought of Holden and how beyond lucky he was to grow up with McCoy men.
Jack revealed that he’d only been a couple of states away from home, so, like Logan, he encouraged me to tell them stories about my different moves.
“What’s one of your favorite places where you’ve lived?” Jack asked.
“Brooklyn,” I said immediately. “I was around thirteen and was able to convince my parents to let me ride the train by myself a couple of times. I loved it there.”
“What about Manhattan?” Logan asked.
I scrunched my nose. “It wasn’t my favorite. Too busy and loud. Times Square was the worst! I think I still see neon lights sometimes from all the billboards that I saw there.”
Logan grinned. “When my cousins came to visit us last year, they said they couldn’t get the farm smell out of their hair for a week after staying with us.”
We all laughed.
“Brie,” Jack said. “I wanted to get to know you a little and I’m so glad that I did. You’re a smart young lady and your parents should be very proud.”
I looked down, then back at Jack. “Thank you.”
“I think it’s best for all of us to address the white elephant in the room,” Jack said.
My smile slipped and my heart thudded in my chest.
“Dad,” Logan said. “Do we have to do this now? Brie knows how you feel. And how I feel about the horses and the loss of land. She has no control over what her father or anyone does.”
Under the table, I felt a hand touch mine. I unclenched my fist and held Logan’s hand.
“Oh no, Brie,” Jack said, looking at me. “Please don’t think for a second that I don’t like you because of your father’s work. I know he didn’t come to town with a hidden vendetta against the people who live here. Business is business—that I understand.”
I nodded, staying silent.
“I don’t have anything personal against your dad,” Jack said. “I care about Lost Springs and the horses.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I respect your feelings and I do see your side of the issue.” I looked at Logan and there was a tiny smile on his face. He gave me the slightest nod. “But Logan and I aren’t involved in this. Logan and I aren’t taking sides. Our side is the mustangs.”
Jack took a sip of Coke from his glass and put it down in front of himself. He folded his hands on the table. “You are wise beyond your years. My son is very lucky to have met you.”
I smiled, squeezing Logan’s hand. I stayed for another half an hour or so and Jack didn’t bring up the horses or the land again. He had said his piece and I’d said mine. Now that Logan and I were officially out as a couple, I had to tell my parents. I didn’t want them to hear it, somehow, from anyone else.
Logan and I cleared the table and I said good night to Jack. Logan opened the truck’s passenger door for me and we got back in his truck. The second our doors slammed shut, he was pulling me toward him. I twisted in the seat and in the pale moonlight, my mouth found his.
“You were so great,” he said. He trailed kisses from my ear down my neck. I shivered and ran my fingers through his hair.
“I’m so relieved,” I said, trying to catch my breath. Logan’s feather-light kisses on the top of my shoulder made it nearly impossible. “I’m actually glad he came home early tonight,” I managed to get out.
Logan looked at me and held both of my hands. “Me, too. I was so proud to introduce you to him. Honestly, ‘proud’ doesn’t cover it. I can’t tell you how great it is to have an amazing girlfriend like you.”
“That was so sweet, thank you,” I said. I kissed him lightly. “I’m so glad that your dad didn’t look at me like someone from the enemy camp.”
“He told you—he knows you have nothing to do with your dad’s business.”
“I just know my dad. It’s not going to be as easy with him. I’ll have to talk to him before you do. I’m too nervous for us to both be there.”
Logan started his truck and circled the driveway and headed for the road.
“My only concern is you,” Logan said. “I don’t like the idea of you facing your dad alone.”
“I know you’d be there if I asked you,” I said. “But I have to do it this
way. Especially now that someone stirred up trouble about the horses a few days ago.”
We reached my driveway in what felt like seconds. Logan shifted into park and let the truck idle. He turned to face me.
“Whatever you decide—it’s going to be okay,” he said.
I looked into his eyes and the moonlight cast shadows on his face. It wasn’t often that he didn’t wear his hat. I leaned forward, kissed him, and ran my fingers through his hair.
We kissed for a little while before Logan’s truck started to make angry sounds.
“Uh, I better let you get home,” I said.
“I think you’re right,” Logan said as he leaned over and adjusted my necklace. “So, I’m going to be busy on Sunday.”
Trying not to look disappointed, I nodded. “Oh,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve got to shear about five hundred sheep and Holden’s too little to do much.”
“Wow, five hundred,” I said.
“I don’t want you to feel pressured at all because it really is tough work, but do you want to come help?”
“Definitely!” I said. I’d never even seen a sheep up close. “What should I wear?”
Logan grinned. “I’d wear old jeans and a ratty T-shirt. You’ll get oily when you hold them. Plus, it’s supposed to be unseasonably warm tomorrow, I heard.”
“I can really help you?” I wasn’t afraid to, but I didn’t want to disappoint Logan with my sheep-wrangling skills.
“Really,” he confirmed. “Can you get over to my house around seven a.m.?”
I nodded. “I’ll be there.”
“Good.” And with that, Logan kissed me again. The kiss made my face warm. Logan cupped his hand under my chin and his fingers were cool on my flushed skin. We pulled apart and I smiled at him.
“Bye,” I said softly. My fingers fumbled on the door handle.
“Sunday.” He smiled. “’Night.”
Once in my room, I flipped on my lights. Logan could see the light from the road. He always waited until he knew I was safe inside. I opened the balcony door and stepped out. I watched his cracked taillight disappear down the stretch of road, and then I went into the living room. Mom and Dad were parked on the couch with the lights off as they watched some old Jane Allen flick.
“Hey, hon,” Mom said, waving me over. She flipped on the lamp and got a glimpse of my face. “Good night with Amy, huh?” she asked with a smile.
“Great night. We had so much fun,” I said. I settled on the recliner and laid the chair all the way back. If I tried to make it upstairs, my knees would buckle.
“Popcorn?” Dad asked, passing the bowl in my direction.
Wordlessly, I took the bowl of kettle corn and watched the movie. I barely heard the film’s dialogue because I was too busy reliving tonight in my head. Old Brie, full of standoffishness and zero friends on speed dial had vanished. New Brie didn’t think about moving, perpetually looking forward to the next adventure.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Better for a man to wear out than rust out.
The sun peeked over Blackheart Mountain and I pedaled down Logan’s driveway through the foggy morning. The mist was lifting, though, as the sun rose. It was nearly seven on Sunday and I was decked out in jeans with torn knees, an old pair of shoes, and a T-shirt with mud stains on it from the time I’d slipped into a creek in our Virginia backyard. My hair was in a high ponytail—as if I were channeling my inner cheerleader—and I was makeup free—quite a change from my first-date makeup routine.
My camera bag was slung across my shoulders—Mom had made me promise to take photos. I’d started to ease Logan into conversation over the weekend. I had talked to Mom a little bit more and told her that I was hanging out with Logan. I didn’t get to the dating part. Yet. Mom was happy that I had Logan and even though I’d never asked, it was unspoken that Mom wasn’t going to speak about him to Dad. I’d never have asked her to keep my boyfriend a secret, but I certainly wasn’t going to argue with her not to.
That is, if I still had a boyfriend after Logan saw me without makeup.
I parked my bike in weedy grass by Logan’s old barn and headed for the orange metal corral that held bleating sheep. The gray-and-whitish sheep were crammed into the dirt arena and barely had a few feet of moving space. Logan was in a smaller corral with a pair of clippers and boxes and boxes of trash bags.
“Hi, gorgeous!” he called when he saw me approaching. I snapped a photo of him smiling and waving against the backdrop of Blackheart Mountain with the sunlight beaming behind him. The light made him look glowy and gauzy—like he was on a soap opera. I sighed quietly to myself that he hadn’t run screaming in the opposite direction at the sight of my face free of makeup.
“You started without me,” I said, climbing between the fence boards and stepping inside the small corral.
Logan kissed my cheek and started to pull on his gloves. “Nah, I just got things ready. One by one, I’m going to drive a sheep from the pen through that chute and into this corral. You can help hold while I shear until you see how it’s done and then you can try if you want.”
“Okay, that sounds good,” I said. “Are the sheep wild or gentle?”
Logan moved toward the chute and stood by the barrier he would lift so a sheep could enter the corral. “Most are gentle, but a few new ones haven’t been sheared as much, so they’re a little scared. They won’t bite, though.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” I was making it my mission to be the best partner he’d ever had. I hung my camera bag on a fence post and took the gloves Logan offered me.
“Can I feel their wool before I put these on?” I asked. “That okay?”
“Sure. Ready?”
“Let’s do it.” We smiled at each other and then looked into the corral. Logan pulled on the thick rope and the wooden gate rose. A sheep, seemingly eager to escape its crowded space, lumbered through the narrow chute and stepped into the corral. Logan jogged up to the corral and slid under the fence. He patted the sheep on the back and motioned for me to step up to the animal. I held out a hand to the sheep, and it allowed me to approach.
“Boy or girl?” I asked Logan.
After a quick peek below, he answered, “Boy.” He slipped a thick rope around the sheep’s neck and handed it to me. “Put your hand on the rope against his neck and he’ll be still. If he starts to move, just tug on the rope and he’ll listen. He’s older, so he’s a pro at this.”
“Hi, boy,” I said to the sheep, taking hold of the rope. I ran my hand across his back and was surprised at the oil that came off on my hands. “Wow, I had no idea they were this oily. What happens next with the wool?”
“Combing and washing,” Logan said, turning on the clippers that buzzed loudly and caused him to raise his voice a notch. “We don’t do that. We do the shearing and then send the wool to a farm down the road who takes it from there.” He started at the sheep’s neck and glided the clippers down the animal’s back. Tufts of cotton-like hair fell from the sheep and landed in a pile on the corral dirt. The sheep stood still and a minute later, Logan had almost half the wool off the sheep and onto the ground.
“You’re fast,” I said, concentrating on holding the now-antsy sheep still. He tugged against the rope and was stronger than I’d thought he could be.
“This is nothing,” he said. “The local record is shearing an entire sheep in forty-five seconds. That’s fast.”
He sheared off the final puff of wool and helped me take off the rope. He guided the sheep into an empty pen. The animals probably felt naked after losing pounds of wool.
“Let’s put this into a bag and we’ll do the next one,” Logan said, reaching for a garbage bag. We stuffed the slick wool into the bag, tied it shut, and Logan opened the chute for the next sheep.
“Where’s Holden?” I asked, suddenly realizing the little boy wasn’t around.
Logan secured the rope around the new sheep’s neck. “It’s his first day of day camp. H
e got me up this morning before five, ready to go with his backpack and everything.”
“Aw. What a cutie.”
“He’ll do, I guess,” Logan said, smiling.
“Holden’s really lucky to have you, you know. He worships you. And your dad.”
“Thanks, babe.” Logan’s smile reached his eyes. “He’s lucky to have Pam, too.” Logan clicked on the clippers and started on a new sheep. “I do what I can, but Dad and I aren’t always there for him. Pam takes him out for a Mother’s Day lunch every year and he began buying her a present each year. I think that helps.”
“She’s amazing,” I said. “Does she have kids of her own?”
He wiped his forehead with his dirt-streaked wrist. “No, her only son died in a car accident about seven years ago. She was a single mom and the grief almost killed her.”
“That’s terrible,” I said. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine how she survived that.”
“It has to be especially hard because the accident was just down the road. Her kid’s truck spun out on black ice.”
I shook my head, blinking fast so that I wouldn’t get teary.
“I heard that Pam was going to leave Lost Springs because she couldn’t stand to be here, but when my mom left, she started helping my dad with me and Holden.”
“I’ve never met a woman like Pam,” I said. “How could you lose a son and then sort of raise a thirteen-year-old and a five-year-old?”
“I have no idea,” Logan said. “She’s just always been there for us.”
He pulled stuck wool out of the clipper blades. His smile peeked at me from under his cowboy hat. “Want to try?”
I reached out my hand and took the clippers. “Sure.” Leaning over the sheep, I gently pressed the clippers to its head. Fuzz came right off as I made a stripe down its back, imitating the pattern that Logan had done with the other sheep. It took me ten times as long as it did Logan to shear the sheep, but he told me to do another one. I was determined to beat my time and soon, five sheep later, I got into a rhythm.
It was almost seven before I dragged my tired body through my back door. I was covered in dirt, oil, and tiny bits of wool. Logan and I had successfully sheared all five hundred sheep and when I got tired of holding the sheep still, we switched places. I turned out to be a whiz with the shears and Logan seemed impressed with my previously nonexistent shearing skills. We took a break around noon for lunch and Logan cooked a dozen ears of sweet corn and made turkey sandwiches. We laughed when butter ran down our arms, and the conversation flowed throughout lunch. We finished shearing and Logan tossed my bike into the back of his truck and drove me home. I’d protested that biking home would be fine, but he’d refused.
Wild Hearts Page 13
