Wild Horses. Claire McEwen

that I started going out there in all my spare time to watch them. It was so peaceful, you know? I got really into taking photos of them.

      “And then one day, while I was watching them, a couple helicopters showed up. It was a roundup, and they chased the herd, flying behind them, really close to the ground. The horses were panicked, falling down, getting hurt. The foals got left behind, separated from their mothers, terrified and exhausted. It wasn’t right.”

      She nodded, a lump in her throat, picturing the horrifying scene he described.

      “I loved those horses, and I was a witness to their suffering,” he continued. “I knew I had to try to help. So I started adopting them from the government auctions. And I convinced this local horse trainer to teach me how to work with them.”

      “It’s so strange to think of you on a horse,” she told him. “You were such a city boy.”

      He smiled, tracing a water mark on the table with a callused index finger. “I sure was. But I learned pretty quick. It felt kind of natural to work with them. And once they were trained, I sold them as riding horses.”

      “And you still do it?”

      “I’ve trained and sold over two dozen mustangs now, but it’s not enough. The Department of Range Management just rounds up more. There are only a certain number of people who want to adopt a mustang, no matter how well trained it is. And my ranch is getting pretty full. I can’t adopt many more.”

      “What happens if no one adopts them?”

      “They spend their days in government holding facilities. Like the DRM station we were at last night. In dusty corrals, packed together, separated from their family groups, scared and miserable.”

      “That’s awful,” Nora said.

      “They have thousands of horses in these holding facilities. Most of them are forced to live in terrible conditions. Yet they continue to round up more.”

      Nora felt sick, imagining all those miserable, frightened horses lost in government limbo. But she’d been frightened, too. She remembered the hooves, and huddling by the rock that had saved her life. “So you stole them.”

      “Moved them,” he corrected. “We’ve tried everything else—talking with the manager at the DRM station, a big letter-writing campaign, getting animal welfare organizations involved. But the government spins its wheels and the horses pay the price in a slow, painful death from the heat. So we got them to some land where they can be safe. And free.”

      “I just don’t get it.” She was casting around in her mind for solutions. As if she could, tonight, solve a problem he’d apparently been working on for a while now. “There has to be a way to help them, legally.”

      “If there is, I couldn’t find it. And even if the DRM makes better rules eventually, these horses would still suffer. I’m truly sorry that you got caught up in our plan. But can you understand that sometimes you have to do a little bad to make something good happen?”

      “In theory.” It was all she could say to reassure him. How many times had she listened to her dad’s excuses for his criminal behavior? There was always someone who wouldn’t give him a break, a deal that was too good to be true—one excuse after another for stealing, and conning and dealing.

      “Will you keep my secret?” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. Negotiating now for his safety. For her silence.

      “That you’re a horse thief?”

      “Or a horse liberator,” he smiled faintly.

      “Semantics.” She couldn’t let him off the hook.

      Todd studied her for a moment, as if pondering how to respond. “We always had this thing, you know. This banter. This way of talking. I’ve missed it.”

      She stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or if he was only trying to make her feel special so she’d keep quiet about the horses. “We’re bantering? I’m pretty sure we’re disagreeing.”

      But he was right. They did have a connection. And she’d loved it. Because she was usually shy and serious, and for some reason he was the only person she’d been witty with. The only person who’d brought that out in her.

      “Maybe it can still be our thing.”

      Warning sirens, flashing lights and stop signs filled her mind. He was throwing out these offers of connection like candy. But he was a stranger to her now. “Whoa, cowboy, there is no our. No thing.”

      “If you say so.”

      The cocky demeanor really did suit him. But he was wielding it like a hypnotist with a watch. “I know why you’re doing this.”

      “Doing what?”

      “Reminiscing. Reminding me about all the good stuff in our relationship—a relationship that you happily walked away from.”

      “You could have come with me,” he said softly, leaning back, looking at her squarely. “I wanted you to.”

      “And I couldn’t.” Her stomach was in knots, her brain almost hurting from trying to figure out his motive. “Please don’t bring up all this old stuff. Don’t use our past to get what you want now. I won’t say anything about last night.”

      He looked relieved. “Thank you.”

      “But I hate that I’m a part of your deception. By asking me to keep quiet about what you did, you make me a part of your illegal activities.”

      He nodded. “I get it. And I appreciate your help.”

      They sat in silence for a few moments. Then Todd leaned forward. “Tell me what you were doing out there.” He took a sip of his beer, and his gaze on her was as intense as she’d remembered it.

      She forced herself to remember that this was just a onetime drink. A conversation—nothing more. “You won’t like it. I’m working for the government, for the Department of Range Management.”

      “So that’s why you were at the station. I couldn’t figure it out.”

      Nora couldn’t help a wry smile. “Must have been like seeing the Ghost of Relationships Past.”

      “It was pretty shocking.”

      She took a deep breath and said the last words he’d want to hear. “I was hired to do a study on the impact of wild horses on native plant populations.”

      He flinched, just as she’d expected. “And I take it the impact isn’t exactly positive?”

      “I’ve only been working on it for a few weeks. But from what I’ve seen so far, that’s putting it mildly.”

      “But you know the reasons the land is so overgrazed, right?” Todd leaned forward eagerly and in an instant he was the idealistic boy she’d known in college. Time seemed to jump back years again.

      Nora caught her breath, momentarily disoriented. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

      “There are too many horses for the land provided. But that’s because the government is opening up all their grazing lands for fracking, for cattle, for minerals. So the mustangs have been crammed into a smaller space than can sustain them, and of course the native plants suffer. All the plants do. If we’d give them back their range, you wouldn’t see these kinds of impacts.”

      “Well, sadly, I’m not able to give back their land. And, frankly, there won’t be too many native plants left if we keep the horses at the current population.”

      “But the horses aren’t the real problem.”

      She glared at him. “Todd, I know all this. But the fact is, at this time, the DRM has a certain amount of land allotted for the horses. And the native plants on that land are being destroyed. My job is to go in and study the damage. Once my study is finished, the department will use