Wild Hearts (13 page)

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 almost 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.

Mom put a floodlight in one hand and her smaller flashlight in the other. “You can do the rope,” she said.

“Oh, sure,” I said. “Place the weight of our getting out safely on my shoulders.”

I pulled on the rope again and we stepped into the gray-and-black entrance. I let out the string. As we moved away
from the entrance, the sunshine weakened until the only light was from our flashlights.

“I'm going to flip on the floodlight now,” Mom said. “I don't want you to trip.” The powerful flashlight clicked on and a bright, white light overpowered the weaker yellow flashlight beams. The gray walls of the entrance to the cave morphed into a sandy brown color, and the cavern ceiling was about as high as ours at home. The brown walls were pitted and rough, and on the sides of the cave and above our heads, the ceiling jutted out at odd angles and contorted shapes.

“Amazing,” Mom whispered.

“It really is,” I agreed. Dad had to see this. No cell phone, no beeper, and no work. He'd probably panic and have Internet withdrawal.

The cave got cooler the farther we walked. The string kept trailing behind us as we wove our way toward what we hoped was an empty cavern.

“So,” Mom said, peering behind a large rock where some sort of cricket had skittered. “Tell me about the guy.”

“Guy?” I asked. “What makes you think there's a guy?”

Mom looked at me, her head tilted. “Sweetie, you're wearing skirts to work. You're spending extra time on your makeup and hair. I've never seen you so excited to finish dinner and be alone up in your room.”

I blushed. Mom motioned for us to sit on the boulder near her.

“Okay,” I said, finally. “There is a guy . . . I guess. Logan.”

“Where did you meet him?” Mom asked.

“He was kind of the guy that I yelled at for revving at me our first day here,” I said.

Mom laughed. Then, barely pausing to breathe, I told Mom everything about Logan. Every great thing. Every scary thing.
Everything
. Things I'd been afraid to even say out loud. I laid out all my thoughts about the mustangs and how Logan felt about them. How Logan was Jack's son.

“I don't want to be the family traitor,” I said. “If Dad
ever
finds out that I've been hanging out with someone who's a giant supporter of the horses . . . I don't even want to imagine that lecture.”

“I'm really touched that you care so much about your dad,” Mom said. “But his problems with the horses are
his.
Not yours and not Logan's.”

“Okay, but what if I really fall for him and then we move?”

“It would be hard,” Mom said. “But isn't every good thing worth the risk of being hurt?”

I shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“I know that all the moving hasn't made it easy for you to make friends,” Mom said. “That's something I think about constantly. But I am so happy that you have Amy here, and that you opened yourself up enough to like Logan.”

“It wasn't your fault or Dad's that I didn't make more friends other places,” I said. “That was my choice.”

“Well, I'm so happy that you chose to share all that with me,” Mom said.

I stood and hugged her. When I let go, she got up and we started walking again.

Mom tilted the flashlight toward the ceiling.

“Look, Brie,” she said.

The low overhang started to vanish. We stepped forward into a massive cavern.

“Oh, my God.” I twirled in a slow circle and looked around at the cavern. Razor-sharp stalactites hung from the ceiling at all angles. Some were pencil size and others were five feet wide. Water dripped off a stalactite in the center of the cavern and the minerals formed a twin stalagmite that jutted into the air.

The air smelled musty and the temperature had dropped at least another five degrees. The walls were covered in deep, dark crevices, rounded rock, and jagged rock.

Almost every few feet, the wall and ceiling surface varied. I'd only seen caverns like this in movies. It was like Tom Sawyer when he got lost with Becky in the cavern. In the center of the cavern ceiling, a small hole shed a tiny bit of light onto the floor. How was that possible so deep in the cave?

“This is gorgeous,” Mom said, setting down her backpack and pulling out her camera and tripod. She set up the floodlight and it filled the cavern with light. “How did Amy decide to show you this?”

“I told her you were a photographer and she knew immediately where to go. She thought you'd love this place.”

“I have to meet her,” Mom said. “Editors are going to love this cave.”

I followed her lead and brought out my camera and started snapping photos. I took dozens of shots of the ceiling, walls, and floor before walking over to a puddle. Something wiggled in the shallow water. “Mom! Come here!”

She peered over my shoulder. We stared at the whitish gray crustacean in the puddle. “It's a crayfish,” she said. “A cave crayfish.” The milky-white crayfish stuck its tiny pincers in the air and waved them threateningly as I bent down to take its picture. It looked like a ghost version of its normal reddish color.

Mom sat on a nearby boulder and glanced around. “I can't believe we're sitting in a cavern,” she said. “It's just amazing.”

I sat next to her on the rock and nodded. “Perfect,” I whispered.

My head said “Show Amy the photos!” while my heart chimed in with “Show Logan!” I could see us in my room, both on our stomachs on my bed looking at my laptop. The thought of it made my heartbeat speed up. I looked down and there was a deep puddle next to my left foot. I hovered over it and smiled at my reflection. Whoever this new Brie was, I wanted her to stay a while.

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

Always ride the horse in the direction it's going.

I had twenty minutes to finish getting ready and meet Amy and Logan at WyGas. Saturday morning was clear and the perfect day to visit a fair. I'd been up half the night trying to decide what to wear. Finally, I'd settled on black combat boots, skinny jeans, an ivory long-sleeve shirt, and a jean jacket. I'd combed my shoulder-length hair into a ponytail and had used a curling iron on the ends. Makeup had been kept to a minimum.

I grabbed my orange faux-leather purse and hurried down the stairs.

“Bye!” I called to the kitchen, where Mom and Dad were having coffee and reading the paper. I'd already cleared the festival with Mom.

“Brie, wait,” Dad said.

I sighed quietly, my hand on the doorknob.

I turned to face Dad. “Yes?” I asked.

“Listen, I know you already talked to Mom about going out now, but I could really use your help at work today,” Dad said. “I'm leaving in a few minutes to head over there.”

“Dad, my friend is waiting for me. I already told her I was coming since Mom said it was okay.” I tried to keep any traces of annoyance out of my voice.

“Michael,” Mom said as she walked into the foyer. “I'm free today. I did already tell Brie that she could go.”

Dad crossed his arms. “Nicola—”

“I'll fill in for her today,” Mom said, her tone light. “But you can't expect me to type ninety words a minute like Brie.”

It seemed like hours passed before Dad nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Go. But you missed a lot of time at work this week. The lunch breaks in town are over. Got it?”

I started to protest, but forced myself to smile and nod. I'd deal with that issue later. Right now, I needed to get out the door.

“Got it!” I chirped. “Bye!”

Before Dad changed his mind, I yanked open the screen door and pulled it shut behind me. I hurried to my bike and it felt like I didn't breathe until I got onto the road.

“Yay! You're here!” Amy exclaimed.

She and Logan stood by his truck in the WyGas parking lot. A small red trailer was attached to the truck.

“Love your sweater,” I said to Amy. She'd paired a fuzzy red Fair Isle sweater with jeans and cowboy boots.

“Thanks! Two bucks on eBay,” she said with a tone of satisfaction.