Wild Horses. Bethany Campbell

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СКАЧАТЬ message, that he’d see him later tonight.”

      “Did you ask him who Duran is? What he does?”

      “No. Too much noise. Like there was a party going on in the background. Anyway, I left word.”

      “Hmm.” Mickey shrugged. “So what did the lawyer tell Vern?”

      “Martin? He knows the old will was valid—his father’s the one who drew it up. If this Duran tries to pull something shady, Martin can handle him. He’s going to look it over and get back to us. But at this point he doesn’t think we have to worry.”

      “That’s a relief,” Mickey said. “Super Barrister on the job. Hooray for Mighty Martin.”

      Carolyn rumpled her hair playfully. From the front of the house, they heard the doorbell chime. A moment later, Vern knocked at Mickey’s door, which stood ajar. “Carolyn? Mickey? Come on out here. Lynn’s here. And she’s got a surprise for you.”

      “Oops,” said Mickey. “Shoes? Shoes?” She groped around and slipped back into her moccasins, then followed Carolyn to the living room. Carolyn gave her niece’s cheek a smacking kiss, and Mickey greeted her with a grin.

      Petite and auburn-haired, Lynn was the daughter of J. T. McKinney and Pauline, Carolyn’s late sister. In her thirties, Lynn looked young for her age, and her jeans and riding boots made her seem tomboyish. She was smiling like someone almost too joyful to contain herself.

      “I just found out,” Lynn bubbled, “and I had to ride straight over to tell you in person. Guess what?”

      “You’ve got a new horse?” Carolyn asked. Horses were Lynn’s passion.

      “No,” laughed Lynn, “much better! Tyler and Ruth sold the winery in Napa Valley. They’re coming home! This time to stay.”

      Lynn threw her arms around her aunt. She and Carolyn hugged and laughed and cried at the same time. Mickey grinned. Carolyn’s nephew—her late sister’s firstborn—coming home! Tyler was Carolyn’s favorite of Pauline’s children, and the one about whom she’d worried most.

      Tyler had brains, determination and an almost endless capacity for work. What he’d never had was luck. His younger brother, Cal, seemed to prosper without effort. Tyler struggled to run two wineries that were a thousand miles apart. He was deeply in debt, mostly to Cal.

      Carolyn had feared Tyler and his family might stay in California forever. His wife had inherited the Napa Valley winery. But running it was not only expensive, but a backbreaking job. Tyler’s heart belonged truly to the more humble winery he’d started in Claro County. He had sweat blood to keep both operations working.

      “When did this happen?” Caro drew back to study Lynn’s beaming face.

      “He called this afternoon. Ruth said she couldn’t watch Tyler work himself to death any longer. She decided she wanted to come back, and just this last weekend they put the winery up for sale. They didn’t tell anybody here, because they thought it might take forever to sell—”

      Vern nodded. “True, from what I’ve read lately about the California wine market. I’m glad for Tyler. He’s had enough hard breaks.”

      Lynn was so excited, she practically bounced. “But this movie star decided he wanted a winery—and it was theirs he wanted. It was just the right size, he said. So, as soon as they close the deal, in two weeks, they’ll move back.”

      “To the house they built,” Carolyn said with satisfaction. “And the vineyards they planted here.”

      “I’ve missed them something terrible,” Lynn admitted. Tears still glistened in her eyes.

      “I know, honey,” Carolyn said. “We all have. But they had to try.”

      Vern shook his head. “Two outfits, that far apart, that high maintenance—I was scared he’d work himself into an early grave trying to handle it all.”

      Or go broke trying, Mickey thought. She knew Carolyn had worried about that, too. Without Cal’s help, Tyler would have failed long ago.

      Carolyn took Lynn’s face between her hands. “I’m glad good luck’s finally come his way. He’s long overdue, that big brother of yours.”

      “And Cal’s coming next fall, too,” Lynn said. “Both my brothers are moving home. I can’t believe it. We’ll all be together again.”

      “Well, this occasion calls for one thing,” Vern announced. When the three women looked at him questioningly, he gave them a superior smile. “A toast. In wine. Texas wine.”

      Mickey laughed, and so did Carolyn. Lynn hugged her aunt again and said, “And Beverly’s having a baby in less than a month. Nothing’s more important than family. Everything’s perfect.”

      “Indeed, it is,” agreed Vern.

      And everything did seem perfect. So perfect that no further thought of Adam Duran crossed anyone’s mind.

      CHAPTER TWO

      ON TUESDAY, Martin Avery came to the house to discuss Enoch’s will. Martin, in his mid-sixties, had rosy pink skin and snow-white hair.

      Mild, mannerly and tidy, he had practiced law longer than anyone in Claro County. He was a peaceful man who worked hard to bring about peaceful solutions.

      He sat at the dining room table with Carolyn and Vern. Because Mickey handled so much of the ranch’s business, Carolyn asked her to stay and listen to what Martin had to say.

      Martin touched the two wills that lay before him. “These are simple documents. Enoch didn’t like doing things in complicated ways.”

      Martin summed up the agreement Enoch had originally made with Carolyn’s mother. As long as she paid the lease monies, she was heir to the land. When she’d died, Enoch had the will redrawn naming Carolyn as heir, but nothing else was changed.

      He paused. “Did he ever express dissatisfaction with the arrangement?”

      Although Carolyn’s face showed concern, she shook her head no. “Every year he endorsed the check and wrote saying that the will stood according to agreement.”

      “And when’s the last time he confirmed it?”

      “A year ago.” She frowned. “But last year’s lease was legally up on April 21st, and he never cashed this year’s check. If he didn’t cash it, technically, right now, I’m not leasing the land. Is that a problem?”

      “Let’s hope not. He probably didn’t cash it because he was ill.”

      Vern spoke up. “It still worries me, and so does this executor. Who is he? Why’s he coming here? I don’t like the sound of it.”

      Martin laid a slim, pink hand on the older document. “A will has to name an executor. In the first one, he named my father. But my father was retired when Enoch made you heir, Carolyn. He didn’t know or trust me—I was just a young whippersnapper to him.”

      He touched the more recent will. “The executor СКАЧАТЬ