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herself into the saddle.
    Matt went to studying her again, making her feel like he might actually be wondering if she was a boy. She was confident that on the outside she resembled a boy, but on the inside she still felt like a girl. She didn’t want to actually be a boy, but she needed to make sure she didn’t act like a girl.
    â€œAre we going or not?” she asked brusquely, knowing the less he looked at her, the less likely he was to figure out the truth about her.
    â€œHave you got a bandanna?” he asked.
    She noticed the red one that he’d tied loosely around his neck. She remembered that Jake had been wearing one as well. As a matter of fact, so had the cook. She shook her head. “No.”
    He reached into his saddlebag, withdrew one, and handed it to her. “You’re gonna need one.”
    As soon as she took it, he pulled his own up over half his face, so his mouth and nose were covered. Following his example, she secured hers over her face and tied it behind her neck.
    â€œYou didn’t want to ride drag?” she asked and her breath sent the bandanna fluttering over her face.
    â€œNo one wants to ride drag,” he told her.
    â€œSo you’re being punished for taking me on.”
    He shrugged haplessly. “Being reminded of my place in this outfit is more like it.”
    Her heart sank. It seemed she couldn’t avoid being trouble for him, causing him hardship before they’d even gotten started. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œDon’t be. Just become the best darn cowboy in the bunch so Jake will have to eat crow.”
    With that, he nudged his horse forward. Sam did the same, her excitement mounting. She was going on an honest-to-gosh cattle drive. An adventure…that had her shaking clear down to her boots.
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    As far as Matt was concerned, the only thing worse than riding drag was marching into battle. The cattle churned up enough dust to bury a man if he stood still for any length of time.
    The prickly dirt and the smell of hide heated by the sun didn’t seem to bother his riding partner any. The kid still sat with his back straight, his green eyes large and round as he peered over the bandanna as though he feared he’d miss out on something important. The boy reminded Matt too much of himself when he’d enlisted and trudged off to war. Before he’d experienced the hardships. Before he’d learned that war wasn’t a game or an adventure or exciting.
    Matt was going to hate watching this kid wilt as the day progressed toward night and his dreams gave way to the harsh reality of long, monotonous days.
    If the kid was telling the truth about his age, then Matt was only two years older than Sam was. But he felt twenty years older. He felt as though he’d grown up and grown old at the same time. As though his youth had disappeared down a bottomless well.
    He certainly couldn’t remember a time when he’d been bouncing in the saddle with eagerness—anxious to see what waited around the corner. It was wearing him out just watching the kid’s energy.
    â€œHow many cattle are there?” Sam suddenly asked.
    It occurred to Matt that the boy might have been sitting up so straight because he’d been trying to count the cattle, but they were stretched out for several miles.
    â€œLittle over two thousand,” Matt answered.
    â€œWhat does the marking on the cattle stand for? It looks like the top and bottom part of a heart, spread apart,” the boy said.
    The kid was observant. Matt had to give him credit for paying attention. But the kid’s youth revealed itself with his eagerness, his questions.
    â€œThat’s exactly what the brand is. A broken heart. These cattle belong to the Broken Heart ranch,” he explained.
    â€œThat’s such a sad name for something. Why is it called that?”
    Matt shook his head. Yeah, it was a sad name for a sad tale. Most cowboys just took the