Free Wild Hearts by Jessica Burkhart

have you gone?” I asked. “Maybe we’ve been to some of the same places.”
    A hint of pink came to Logan’s cheeks.
    â€œI only left Wyoming once,” he said. “I went to Montana to pick up a horse trailer.”
    â€œAre you going away for college?”
    Logan shook his head. “I actually just graduated from Lost Springs High. I was able to take a test to graduate now instead of in May. This is only my second week not being in school.”
    â€œWow, that’s cool,” I said. “Are you going to college now or later?”
    â€œNeither. Family business. I can’t go off to school and leave my little brother, Holden, and my dad.”
    â€œIs that what you want?” I asked. I studied his face, half expecting him to look exasperated or angry, even, that he was expected to carry on the family business.
    Logan smiled—a genuine, real smile with no hint of anything but happiness. “Yeah, it is. I want to travel and see things, but I was never the go-off-to-college type. I’ve wanted to run a ranch since I was a kid.”
    â€œWould your dad freak if you wanted to go away to school?”
    â€œNo,” Logan said. “He’d do exactly what he’s doing now—take care of Holden and run things—he’d just have less help. But he wouldn’t complain about it. He always wants me to do whatever makes me happy.”
    â€œI’m sorry you haven’t been able to travel,” I said. “But it has to feel good to accomplish so much with your family’s ranch, yeah?”
    â€œI’m definitely the right hand for the ranch,” Logan said. “It’s hard, but I used to get to take a couple weeks off school during the height of planting and harvesting seasons.”
    â€œThe school let you do that?” I asked. “I’ve never heard of a school being that accommodating before.”
    â€œLost Springs High has to let us out if we’re working and our parents need help. So many families here grow produce, have dairy farms, raise cattle—we’re a working town.”
    â€œWhat kind of farming does your family do?” As I spoke, I felt my muscles relax. Being in the bright sunlight with the gentlest of breezes was almost more relaxing than any spa treatment I’d ever had.
    â€œOur ranch started with my great-granddad. It used to be a full working farm with cattle, horses, pigs, and produce. Now my dad and I only deal in produce. We split the work pretty evenly, but soon the labor will be divided among three people because my dad just hired a new hand.”
    â€œMy family lived near a farm for six-ish months when I was ten,” I said. “That’s when I decided that I wanted to grow up and be a farmer because I’d get to be outside and work with animals all day.”
    Logan smiled. “I’m sure that’s still your dream,” he said, his tone teasing.
    â€œIt was, until I volunteered at my neighbor’s place,” I said. “I spent more time doing barn or field work than being with the animals.” I plucked a leaf of grass, rolling it with my fingers. “I saw how hard everyone worked—even the little kids.”
    Logan smiled. “Holden is ten and he’s the best kid. He gets up with me at four every morning and does extra chores without being told,” he said.
    â€œAw,” I said. “He must get his work ethic from you.”
    My brain started sending warning signals that I didn’t need to be talking to the enemy. But something else stirred in me—I wanted to get to know him more. I was talking to Logan the Guy, not Logan the Protestor.
    Logan bowed his head a little. “Thanks. I try to be a good example for him. He’s helping me plant our summer crop of vegetables.”
    â€œIt’s March. You’re planting for summer?” I asked. “Or, maybe you don’t want to tell me. I have