Free Heart of Africa by Loren Lockner Page A

change of heart and obtained her hotel management degree at the university, and married a terrific South African chap.”
    I gazed past the camp’s fence and witnessed a small ferret-like creature dart under the wire mesh. “And your mom?”
    “Died several years ago of breast cancer. A real trooper she was, denying anything was remotely wrong with her until the very end. I joined the African Sights Tour Company, leading expeditions into Chobe, the Okavango Delta, and Vic Falls. For another two years I worked in a private reserve that borders Kruger. Now, I’m freelance and have contracts with several tour agencies that connect to European and North American clients. That’s how I was hired by your Ms. Raymond. It’s been a grand life and I have no regrets.”
    “No wife or girlfriends?” I prodded.
    He grinned. “Lots of girlfriends, but let’s face it, Mandy, most women don’t want to compete with the bush.”
    “How old are you now?”
    “Thirty-one. And your mum and family?” he asked gently.
    “Just my cousin Ken and Mom now. Ken’s folks were killed by a drunk driver, and he lived with us from the age of ten. Dad passed away a few years ago from stomach cancer. My relationship with both my mother and cousin are tenuous at the best. Mom means well, but is controlling and blunt. I always sought to please her and Dad, though nothing I accomplished seemed quite adequate. Ken was always highest on their approval scale. Then I met Josh, and Mom’s opinion of me shot way up. Thought I’d proven myself by snagging a doctor. Unfortunately, Josh turned out to not be much of a catch. Mom hasn’t gotten over the disappointment of my not becoming a doctor’s wife.”
    “Sounds like she and I should have a wee chat,” Peter said mildly and gave me a squeeze. “Can’t recognize what a gem she’s got, I reckon. She enjoy critters?”
    “No! Mom goes into cardiac arrest if a lizard even comes within ten feet of the house.”
    Peter tsk-tsked. “ I’m positive we’d get on like a house afire.”
    We conversed little more until much later, after we’d sat down for a simple dinner of chicken and chips and sliced apples. From his always-overflowing ice chest, Peter pulled out my new favorite dessert from South Africa.
    “I’d like to go to Crooks’ Corner if possible. I hear you can see the shores of Zimbabwe and Botswana from there.”
    “And just where did you hear that?” asked Peter mildly as he forked out some milk tart.
    “Some Australians at Letaba were talking about it. They said they photographed a beautiful buck named the nyala thereabouts.”
    “You might glimpse one, though the wood’s quite dense up near Crooks’ Corner. However, we’ve been very lucky so far. No reason to suspect it won’t last. Crooks’ Corner it is then.”  He grinned sexily across the table at me.  “So, Miss Mandy, seriously; can you get your sorry bones up before 6:00 a.m. to make a good start?
    I sniggered before taking another bite of the delicious tart. “I’m not the one who has trouble getting out of bed, mister!”
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 8
     
     
    Dawn peeked through a faint cover of clouds, the result a beautiful sunrise, all pink and salmon and luminous. We were listening to the raucous cry of a hornbill when Peter’s peripheral vision caught something large, hunched, and spotted. Running parallel to the jeep, the sloping backs of two large spotted hyenas lurched like Quasimodo. At easily one hundred and thirty pounds apiece, they’re known to have the strongest jaws of any mammal their size. The bigger one glanced behind him, his large ears protruding nerdishly from a vicious face, and Peter braked the jeep hard as I whipped my camera out, unfortunately catching only a shot of his retreating behind. The other, loping beside his comrade, grinned. His large ears and the orange tuft crowning his head made him resemble some sort of rebellious teenager.