Wild Hearts (36 page)

“Thank you,” I said, wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. “This was the best present.”

Kate hugged me back. “It'll be even better when we get media here. Can I take you guys out for brunch?”

“That would be great,” I said.

Logan nodded in agreement. “Let me turn this guy out.” He took Frogger outside to the pasture.

Kate flashed me a grin. “You better keep this guy.”

If only she knew how much I wanted to, and how afraid I was it wouldn't happen.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

If you're in this business to make money, you better have your head examined.

Kate's visit and planning for the fundraiser gave me little time for anything else. Mom and Dad spent some solo time with Kate while I did work for the event. I wanted to spend more time with Kate, but every free second was needed to figure out last-minute fundraiser details.

The local media had latched on to Kate's tape, and we were lined up for TV, radio, and newspaper interviews. Logan, pulling me aside last night, had confessed he was somewhat camera shy, and had asked if I wouldn't mind doing the interviews. It was adorable that he was shy in front of cameras. I'd told him I didn't mind doing the TV stuff.

Kate left for LA on the red-eye last night and it had been hard to see her go.

“You'll visit again soon, right?” I asked.

“Wherever you are, you know I'll come,” she said, kissing me on the cheek and waving good-bye as Mom and Dad drove her to the airport.

Now the event was only five days away, and Logan and I had to put up flyers around town, then pick up Holden and take him with us to Pam's. Jack was busy with a landowner's meeting today. Logan and I were taking Holden to see the horses.

The clock just hit nine in the morning as I biked to WyGas. Logan and I were splitting a stack of flyers. “I'll go west,” I said. “If you go east.”

Logan took the stack and walked me out the door. “Let's meet back here in an hour, okay?”

“Deal.”

We both headed off through town. I dropped flyers at the drugstore, farm supply, post office, and bakery. Out on the street, I handed flyers to anyone who walked by. At the furniture repair store, I rang the silver bell on the counter. “Rodney? You here?”

“Hold on, hold on,” a gruff voice called from the back of the store. A round-faced man with furniture polish streaks on his face stepped into view. “Oh, it's you, Miss Carter,” he said, his voice losing its edge as his face creaked into a smile.

“Sorry to bother you, Rodney, but could you post this flyer in your window?” Rodney was an old friend of Jack's and I didn't think he'd turn me down.

He held out his hand and studied the flyer when I handed it to him. “Of course. Right in my display window.”

“Great! You coming?”

“Wouldn't miss it. Might sponsor a horse myself. Got a little lonely around home when Rodney Jr. got married.”

“I'll look for you,” I said. “See you there.” Heading outside of the store, I checked my watch and an hour had already passed. There were a few flyers left, so I passed them out to people shopping and headed to meet Logan.

This was phase one of a dozen.

“Careful, that's Oscar the Grouch,” Logan said to Holden, causing the boy to giggle. We'd picked up Holden and had brought him with us to Pam's.

“Why does he have that name?” Holden asked, taking a few steps back from the stall he'd started to peer into.

The black mustang had his back to us and faced the stall corner. We'd tried treats, grain with molasses, and even other horses to get Oscar's attention, but he refused to lose his swept-back ears and wild eyes. Logan had blindfolded him to get him into a stall because he'd needed to be checked out by Pam. Each horse, no matter whether we thought they had gentling potential, got a thorough checkup. I hadn't been here when Pam had checked him out, but Logan had said tranquilizers had been involved.

“Because he's so grumpy, he hasn't let us pet him yet,” Logan said.

“Oh,” Holden said, hanging on Logan's every word. It wasn't the first time we had brought him here. Holden loved it. He'd helped us groom a couple of the gentle yearlings, and the horses brought out an animated side of him.

“I'm going to grab a fresh bucket of water,” Logan said, slipping off his gloves. “And then we can get ready to leave.”

Logan headed outside to the water pump and I walked down to Frogger's stall. He pricked a white-tipped ear to me and came up to the stall door. Frogger was one of seven horses inside the barn, while the rest who hadn't adjusted yet to being indoors were out in the pasture. We tossed them hay every day.

I stroked his muzzle. Thanks to Kate's
Access
piece, he was famous around town as the movie star horse. Several people had already contacted us, wanting to sponsor Frogger.

In addition to people who wanted to help, we were also getting lots of calls from other TV shows and newspapers. Logan had taken on most of the print interviews and I'd been doing some by phone and scheduling in-person sessions with news crews coming to Lost Springs.

I wished I could keep Frogger, but it wasn't a reality.

I left Frogger and headed back down the aisle. Blinking against the strong outdoor light, I saw Holden petting a dark muzzle. At the same moment, Logan came inside with the water bucket.

We both stopped.

Holden was gently stroking Oscar's muzzle as the horse leaned his head over the stall door. Water from Logan's bucket sloshed over the side and splashed against the pavement.

“Holden,” I said in a whisper. White-hot fear flashed in my chest. An image of Oscar taking a chunk out of Holden's arm
flashed through my mind. “Put your hand down slowly and back away.”

“Right now,” Logan added.

“He's a good boy,” Holden said, smiling up at Oscar.

Holden turned and walked away from the stall. Oscar didn't retreat into his corner. Instead, he kept his head poked outside the stall and watched us all. The whites had receded from his eyes and his lower lip wasn't flapping from fear.

Slowly, Logan walked forward and grabbed Holden from behind.

“You scared me, kid! If you're going to come here, you've got to listen.” Logan hugged Holden before putting him down.

“Okay, sorry,” Holden said softly. He frowned and sat on a hay bale near an empty stall.

“Hey, Holden,” I said. “We got scared, but you helped Oscar. Look, he's not so grouchy anymore.”

Holden looked over at the horse and smiled. “He's happy now,” Holden said.

Logan ruffled Holden's hair and mouthed
Thank you
to me.

“Let's call it a day, guys,” I said, putting my arm around Logan's waist. “We've got an interview to prep for.”

We left the horses napping and eating in their stalls and headed to Logan's truck. Logan and I held hands as Holden trotted ahead. A pinto colt lifted his head with a mouthful of grass and neighed at Holden. Holden laughed and waved at the colt. We were all laughing when we climbed into Logan's truck.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Only fools or gamblers walk behind strange horses.

“And now back to
Inside the Issue.
I'm Trista Todd and we're here in little Lost Springs, Wyoming. With us today is Brie Carter, a teenage horse tamer and animal activist. Welcome, Brie.”

Smiling at Trista, I nodded. “Thank you. I'm glad to be here.” Trista and I sat in director's chairs in the mustang pasture with Blackheart Mountain behind us.

The event was four days away and Logan and I were working from sunup until two or three in the morning.

Today, Mom and Dad had come with me. They wanted to watch my first TV interview with someone who wasn't Kate. Off camera, Mom and Dad smiled while Logan gave me a thumbs-up.

The woman's blond hair had bad black roots and her face was caked with a pound of foundation. “So, Brie, tell us about the event this weekend. Whose idea was it?”

“The event is a fundraiser for mustangs who have been displaced. My partner, Logan McCoy, and I started the event because thousands of mustangs are moved, slaughtered, and abused every year in our country.”

Trista shook her head. “That's so cruel. Now, what are you looking for in potential sponsors?”

I sat a little straighter. These questions weren't hard. “We need people who understand these are still
wild
animals,” I said. “We've halter-broken most of them, but we need adopters who are willing to sponsor a horse. That means, if someone comes and sees a horse they like, they'll leave their name on a contact sheet. Next summer, we will hold an adoption event. People who have their name on a list will get first dibs at adopting their sponsored horse. The sponsorship doesn't mean the horse belongs to them—it just moves them ahead of the line if they do want to adopt next summer. The horses are all ages and they have different comfort levels with people.”

“Wonderful, just wonderful,” Trista cooed, a smile plastered on her face. Maybe I should consider a career in TV. Every question she asked made me want to talk more.

“Thank you,” I said. “We just want people to come out, see the horses, and consider donating to our cause. These horses need all the support they can get.”

“Let's talk about your partner for a second. What's your relationship with Logan?”

“We're dating,” I said with a tiny smile.

Trista grinned through her red lipstick. “Ah! Young love! How long have you been together?”

“Sorry,” I said. “I'd like to stick to talking about the horses.”

Oh, my God. This is only the first interview of the day. Three more left! They better not all be like this.

“Okay, okay, no more boyfriend questions,” she said, patting me on the arm. “Now, a couple of minutes ago, Brie, you mentioned these horses had been displaced.”

I nodded. “Yes, that's absolutely correct.”

“Well, we did a little research before we came. Isn't it true that your father, Michael Brooks, is a land developer?”