Wild Hearts (11 page)

I shook my head. “I'm so
not
a coffee snob. I don't care whether it's instant coffee or Colombian beans—I just want the caffeine in my body.”

Amy laughed. We crossed Main Street, which was—shocker—empty. Not a car visible in either direction.

We walked inside Beans and the coffee shop was just about the size of our kitchen. There were three small circular tables and square and rectangle ones along the window. All of them were filled, with the exception of one of the booths by the window.

We ordered, got our drinks—both skinny vanilla lattes—and snagged the free seats.

I took a sip of coffee, then another.

“Oh, this is some of the best coffee that I've ever had,” I said. “I'm going to buy this place out!”

“So weird!” Amy said. “My mom says that I'm going to do that. She's also sure that I've stunted my growth. Since she's worrying about something as trivial as an inch or two of my height, I'm so an only child. Obviously.”

“I've been the only child at home for the past few years, too. Well, kind of. My big sister, Kate, moved to LA several years ago and it's just been my dad, my mom, and me ever since. My parents are kind of the opposite in the parent department. My mom's a photographer and really into her career. Not in a bad way, she still pays plenty of attention to me. My da—”

I stopped and looked down at the table. I took sip after sip of coffee, trying not to look at Amy.

“Hey, I'll say it one more time—I really am sorry that I said those things to you. I thought about it a lot every day since then. I can't imagine how I would feel if people decided whether or not they like me based on my dad's job. He's a mechanic, by the way—I'm sure
plenty
of people would look down on that.”

“We didn't come here to start a war. My dad will build the hotel, and before you know it we'll be gone and on to the next town.”

Amy rested her chin on her upraised palm. “Have you ever lived in the South?”

“Like Kentucky, Tennessee, Florida—that South?” I asked. “Pretty much all of the South except for Mississippi and Arkansas, I think. Oh, not Alabama, either.”

“Omigod! You are so lucky!” Amy's fair cheeks flushed and she almost bounced up and down in her seat. “I'm
obsessed
with the South and everything southern. You should see my room. I love scouring eBay for odd pieces that represent the South. I got these
amazing
wall decals that are—oh, wait.” She rummaged through her purse on the bench and pulled out her phone. After a few clicks, she handed it to me.

“Wow!” I said, pinching the phone screen to zoom in on the space above her bed. “The black-and-white prints of fruit and southern hot spots are amazing. The Tennessee mountain range is a great one. Your room looks like a southern belle lives there.”

Amy beamed. “Stop, you're just saying that.”

“No, I'm not! Why would I lie?”

Amy's bedspread was a lace-lined baby blue. An empty birdcage hung in the left-hand corner. She had a wrought-iron white headboard. Next to the top of the bed were white, shabby chic nightstands. They had matching lamps that were yellow glass.

I handed Amy back her phone. “So a few minutes ago, you said I was ‘lucky' that I got to travel the South, but looking at your room—it looks like you've lived there until yesterday.”

Amy shook her head. “Nope, I, um, I haven't been out of Wyoming.”

I worked
really
hard not to let my shock at her lack of travel to
anywhere
show on my face. “Judging by your room, I would have guessed that you were a Kentucky or Louisiana transplant. But what really tipped me off was your voice.”

“My voice?” Amy asked.

“Yeah, right away I heard the slightest southern twang. I can't place the state, but I know I've heard it before.”

Amy covered her mouth with both hands. Her eyes got so wide it looked as if they were about to pop out of her sockets.

“Oh. My. God,” Amy said, shaking her head. “I can't believe it. You—someone who has probably traveled almost everywhere on the planet—heard a twang in my voice!”

“Where did it come from?”

“I've sort of been listening to stuff on my iPod that actors use before a film so their voices are able to change from like a French accent to a New York one.”

“Cool,” I said, smiling. “You obviously want to go to college in the South.”

“Yeees,” Amy said. “I have to get out of Lost Springs. I love it, I do. But I want more than this. I especially want to try living in a place where I feel as though I should have been born and raised there. A place where I can visit an actual store instead of buying almost everything I own from eBay. A town with nearby shopping centers.”

I liked this girl. Who would have known that I would meet someone here I would actually like hanging out with.

“Forget where you were born,” Amy said. “Where do you think you
belong
?”

I opened my mouth and my jaw moved up and down, but nothing came out. I stared at Amy and shrugged. “I don't know where I belong,” I said. “But I don't think it was at any of the places that I've lived.”

“Can you tell me about them?” Amy asked.

“Sure.”

That kicked off an hour-and-a-half conversation that had us wired from three coffees each by the time we finished chatting. We left the shop with plans to meet up again for coffee soon.

 

CHAPTER TEN

Never miss a good chance to shut up.

Logan's truck wasn't in the WyGas lot, but I leaned my bike against a metal rack and went inside anyway. Technically, I was on a “lunch break” from Dad's office—I was just choosing to spend it looking for Logan.

A guy with dark curls smiled at me from behind the counter. He looked around Kate's age.

“Hi,” I said. Suddenly, I felt shy about asking my question. I picked up a packet of gum, pretending to be fascinated with the label. Half of me was scared the guy was a wildlife extremist, too, and would say something awful to me, and the other half was a little embarrassed to ask about Logan.

“Can I help you find anything?” the guy asked. Not an ounce of weirdness or anger in his tone. Whew.

“No. Well, um, maybe. Is Logan around?” I forced out the words before I changed my mind.

“He's off today. He's watching his little brother.”

My shoulders sagged a little. This morning, I'd put extra time into choosing a cute yellow top and pleated white skirt. I would spend the rest of the day in cute clothes shut inside Dad's trailer.

“Okay, thanks,” I said. “I'll come back another time.” I put down the gum and headed for the door.

“Hey,” the guy called after me. “Tell me your name and I'll tell you where to find Logan.”

I turned slowly back to face him. “Brie.”

“Nice to meet you.” He reached out a hand to me. I walked back and took his hand. “I'm Jerry,” he said. “You know where Black Creek is?”

“I don't,” I said.

He motioned me over and used his finger to draw an invisible map on the counter. “Logan said he'd be taking Holden there today. Okay, go straight out of here and take the first right. You're going to follow a one-lane dirt road for about a mile and then you'll come to a clearing. Keep walking straight and you can't miss the creek.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I owe you one.”

Jerry waved me out of WyGas. I climbed on my bike and yanked my skirt up over my knees, determined not to get it caught in the bike's chain. With Jerry's directions echoing in my head, I headed for Black Creek.

A short while later, I braked at a grassy, overgrown clearing that had to be the one Jerry had talked about. I laid my bike in the grass and followed what looked like a recently trampled path to Black Creek.

Clear, gently flowing water swept over the rocks, and the muted sunlight hit the creek bed in random places and made
the rocks dazzle like black diamonds. The water was only a couple of feet deep and it looked like there were tracks on the other side. I kicked off my white flip-flops and held them in one hand. I dipped my toe in the water.

“Ahh!” The water was
freezing
! Tugging up my skirt, I thrust my feet into the water, stepping quickly over the sparkling rocks. “Ah! Ah! Cold!” I yelped to no one. When I got to the other side, I slid my chilly feet into my flip-flops and they squished as I followed the trail.

The forest was quiet except for the occasional bird. I tried not to let myself wonder about the bears, bobcats, and coyotes Logan had insisted inhabited the forest, but the sunlight cast strange shadows over the trees and I started eyeing each shadow with growing suspicion. If I didn't find Logan in five minutes, I was going home. Water splashed up ahead.
Please, please let that be Logan and not a fishing bear.
Dousing myself with jasmine body spray probably hadn't been the best idea. I tiptoed along Black Creek's bank and peered ahead, half expecting to see a ravenous bear.

Instead, it was Logan and a little boy who could have been Logan's younger twin, with the same flaxen blond hair, wide eyes, and golden skin. Holden covered his mouth with his hand as he laughed at Logan, who was balanced precariously on a small boulder and juggling three rocks. I'd come here with the intention to hang out with Logan. But now it felt like an intrusion on their family moment.
Logan doesn't get much time off to hang with his brother,
I said to myself.
You should have realized that before you came.

I turned around to leave. As I started to walk away, my flip-flop caught on an upraised root and I tripped and fell on my knees. A few sticks cracked under my palms.

“Hello?” Logan called.

“It's Brie,” I said, waving from my spot on the ground.

“Stay here,” Logan said to Holden, who nodded and didn't move as Logan picked his way across the creek bed and jogged over to me. I sat on my butt and saw pebbles embedded in my knees. My poor skirt was streaked with dirt.

Logan knelt by my side. “Are you okay?” The concern in his voice made me forget about my minor scrapes.

“I'm fine. I just tripped. I was walking around,” I said, waving an arm and trying to sound casual. I didn't want him to know that I'd tracked him down. “When I saw you and Holden, I didn't want to bother you. It looked like you two were having fun.”

Logan pulled a blue handkerchief out of his pocket and bent down to swish it around in the creek water. He came back and brushed my hand away from my knee and motioned for me to stretch my legs out to him. Logan sat cross-legged on the ground and took both of my legs over his lap. He started wiping my knees. “So, you were just walking around Black Creek and you saw us, huh?” Logan asked, not looking up from my left knee.

“Yeah, coincidence, right?” I said, my voice was dangerously high.

“That's funny,” Logan said, looking up at me. “Because
Jerry
texted me a while ago and said he gave some super-cute girl directions here.”

“Oh, stupid boy code,” I said, shaking my head. “Fine. I'm busted.”

Logan grinned. “You were talking to Jerry about me?”

“No,” I said, smiling. “I just asked him if you were working and he said you were watching Holden. I might have come here to see you, but when I saw you with Holden, I—”

“It's okay!” Logan cut me off, grinning. “You can talk to Jerry about me, but I'd like it more if you talked to me instead.”

I looked away from him and down at my knees. Logan had managed to remove most of the gravel from my shallow scrapes. I was suddenly aware that my bare legs were strewn across his lap. My face felt like it was on fire as I tried to gracefully ease my legs off him and stand. Logan jumped up and offered me a hand.

I grasped his palm and let him help me. The warm feeling from his hand spread to my face.

“Is your brother okay over there?” I glanced over Logan's shoulder and saw Holden still in the same position—huddled on a rock. At that age, I would have been off exploring the woods. I wouldn't have listened to Kate at all.