What the hell have I walked into?
Adam stared at the closed door. He felt like an animal trapped in a cage.
He’d known this trip was going to be hard. And he refused to lie to himself—he’d felt edgy about meeting Carolyn Trent from the start. What sane man in his position wouldn’t?
During the whole trip he’d hardened himself to face her. When he’d climbed the stairs to her home, his heart had pounded like a sledgehammer. He’d supposed she’d be polite—initially. After that, he’d been prepared for anything.
Except this. The woman he’d come to meet wasn’t here. Instead, he’d been thrown off from the first moment by the strange, starchy Michele Nightingale. As haunting as he found her looks, her manner set his teeth on edge. She’d seemed snippy and stuck-up.
Or so he’d thought until the moment she’d burst into tears.
He swore aloud. What to do now? Everything had to be rethought. Everything.
Dear Reader,
This book exists because of four extraordinary people.
One is my husband, Dan, who learned that there were endangered wild horses in the Bahamas—and knew I’d love to find out more. He tracked them down and took me to see them. I was hooked by their story, and I hope you will be, too.
The second person is the all-too-modest Milanne Roher. Milanne has selflessly dedicated herself to these beautiful, mysterious and threatened creatures, the wild horses of Abaco.
I wanted a character who, like Milanne, could bring great passion to a cause, and that character turned out to be Adam Duran. Though he and the heroine, Mickey, have a volatile clash of loyalties, they find they also have deep and abiding similarities.
The two other people who influenced this story are my mother, Beatrice, who was orphaned at fourteen, and an older woman—a stranger, Frances—who took her in. What began as an act of charity turned into a lifelong friendship. Frances’s kindness, warmth and generosity continue to echo through the generations of our family.
These women are the basis of the relationship between the characters of Mickey, the protagonist, and Carolyn Trent, who proves so important to both Mickey and Adam.
Please drop in and visit me at my Web site, www.bethanycampbell.com. You’ll find more information about the horses there, a contest for you to enter, other goodies and a chance to get in touch. I’d love to hear from you!
Sincerely,
Bethany Campbell
P.S. To see the real horses that got this story off to its start, just check out the Web site for the Abaco Wild Horse Fund, Inc. There are photos, videos, a history and frequent updates. You’ll find it at www.arkwild.org or you can simply type the words “Abaco Wild Horses” into your search engine.
Wild Horses
Bethany Campbell
To Bea and Aunt Frances, with love
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
IN THEIR DAY, the Randolph brothers of Crystal Creek, Texas, had been famed for three things.
They were handsome as sin. They were rebellious to the point of recklessness. And they tended to drift off to faraway places and never return.
Enoch Randolph was no exception. He’d left Texas over thirty years ago for a life of ease in the Bahamas and never looked back. As time passed, the crankier he grew. He cut off his ties with all the people of Crystal Creek—except one.
That person was his niece, Carolyn. He stayed in touch, not out of love, but for money. Each spring Enoch mailed her a handwritten receipt. This receipt acknowledged that she’d sent him the yearly check for the range land that she leased from him.
Although Carolyn was Enoch’s closest living relative, he never added any greeting or message, except this: “Mrs. Carolyn Randolph Trent: My will stands as per the agreement I made with your mother in 1968. Enoch Randolph.”
So, in May when an envelope arrived with the Bahamian stamp, Carolyn’s secretary, twenty-six-year-old Mickey Nightingale, opened it as a matter of course. She expected Enoch’s usual statement in his usual, crabbed handwriting.
But instead of the receipt, Mickey found an entire letter. Unfolding it, she saw that it had been typed with an old-fashioned typewriter on a sheet of yellowing paper. As she read, anxiety tightened her chest and her heart raced ominously.
May 7
Box N-204 West Bay Street
Nassau, Bahamas
Mrs. Carolyn Trent
Circle T Ranch RR 1
Claro County, Texas 78624, USA
Dear Mrs. Trent:
I regret to inform you that your uncle, Enoch K. Randolph, died in his sleep one week ago on the night of April 30. It was peaceful.
As executor of his will, I am charged with settling the part of his estate involving his lands. Mr. Randolph left specific instructions that I am to do this in person.
I will arrive in Claro County on May 19, the Wednesday afternoon after next. Time is of the essence, and your full cooperation is necessary so matters can be settled by Friday. I can stay no longer.
Please reply immediately. You may leave a message at 424-555-1411.
Sincerely,
Adam Duran
P.S. Your uncle was cremated and his
