“He is.” He settled his hands on his hips. “Keep an eye on him. And keep me posted on his progress. Let me know what he’s thinking.”
“We’ve been through this. I already addressed that.”
“Not to my satisfaction.”
She laughed. “Your way or the highway.”
“That’s right.”
She found herself waiting for a smile to soften the words and let her know he wasn’t that black and white. None came. “I can only do what I think is best for Mitch. If he confides in me, I’m not going to go running to you with the information.”
Frown lines deepened. “He’s my family.”
“He’s a man.”
“I know that.” Annoyance flashed. “He had another dream last night.”
“That explains the bruise on your chin.”
“Kid’s got a punch like a jackhammer.”
She shook her head. “The best we can do is give him the opportunity to work through and find his way out of it.”
“We. Good. Then we’re a team.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did.”
The door to the tasting room opened and the sounds of conversations and laughter trickled out. “I need to go.”
He frowned but simply nodded. Unsure of what else to say to him, she returned to her party, surprised she was happy to reenter the lion’s den if it meant getting away from Ranger Bragg.
Bragg watched Greer disappear back into her party. He didn’t need a guest list to know the people inside were the Who’s Who of Austin society. And though Greer had been born into that world, he recognized she didn’t fit there anymore. She smiled. She moved from couple to couple chatting. She filled wineglasses. But she was the outsider. People stared at her oddly when she walked away. They talked about her.
Twelve years had passed since the accident and her suicide attempt, and yet she remained cut off from her old life. Though he sensed the society crowd could be judgmental and hard, he also realized Greer was as much a party to her isolation as anyone. She’d built a wall around herself: always polite, guarded, and distant.
Greer punished herself with her self-imposed isolation. She hadn’t rejoined the world, choosing purgatory instead.
She’d maintained a distance with him, but that didn’t really surprise him. Most folks didn’t cozy up to Rangers right away, and publicity surrounding his work on the border had changed how people viewed him. Leeriness now simmered under the respect. Some folks were flat-out afraid of him.
Mitch wasn’t afraid nor were the Rangers, but most everyone else kept their distance. Greer met his gaze directly, no hint of fear. If she’d heard about his past, she gave no sign it bothered her. She noticed the scar as well, but didn’t appear put off by it. And he was oddly glad.
Curious, he moved inside and stood in the back of the tasting room. His gaze scanned the room quickly and then settled on Greer. A stunning dark dress hugged her figure just right. Her hair glistened in the soft light. But if he had to choose, he preferred her in her jeans, T-shirt, and hair in a thick braid.
She now stood at the front of the room next to a tall slim man who wore an expensive suit, white shirt, but no tie. Blond hair swept off a face of chiseled features and smooth skin. Appreciation glistened in the man’s eyes as he stared at Greer.
Bragg shifted his stance, annoyance snapping at his heels.
Greer rang a bell and soon the hum of conversation in the room faded. She clenched and unclenched her fingers and then offered a big bright smile. To the casual eye, her smile was radiant but there were subtle cues indicating the opposite. A stiff back, raised chin, and a slight quiver in the corner of her mouth told him the smile was a lovely front.
But judging by the attentive expressions around the room, he wondered if anyone peered beyond the smile.
“Welcome to Bonneville Vineyard’s first annual fund-raiser for Austin’s Crisis Center. Our vineyard has been here for over twenty years and though we don’t make our own wine, we hope to by this time next year. Tonight, I want to introduce you to Philip Louis, who is supplying tonight’s wine from Sun Valley Vineyard in Fredericksburg.” She grinned at Louis. He smiled back at her, his gaze hungry and excited. “Bonneville supplied the grapes to Mr. Louis who, at his winery in Fredericksburg, turned them into several lovely wines.”
“Greer.” Louis’s voice was smooth, even, and deep. His smile was quick and easy. “Thank you for having Sun Valley Vineyard here tonight. It’s a great honor to introduce our wines to such a sophisticated audience.”
People in the crowd responded well to the compliment. Louis coaxed people to follow like a damned pied piper.
Bragg shifted his attention to Greer, curious about her reaction to Louis. She didn’t shy away from him nor did she lean toward him. Her smile was genuine but not flirty. She liked Louis, but he suspected she saw him as a colleague and not a potential lover. Good.
“The winemaker and the wine grower must have a close relationship,” Greer said.
“But great wine begins on the vine,” Louis added. “If not for Greer’s talent for reading the soil, air, and water, I would not have such stunning grapes to put into my winery. We will be sorry to lose Bonneville grapes next season but anticipate tasting their wine. And now that we are neighbors, we hope to grow grapes as rich and succulent.”
An older woman dressed in a sapphire-blue dress raised her hand. “Greer, the soil here looks awful. Why on earth choose such a rocky, hot place as Bonneville?”
Greer relaxed when attention turned to Bonneville. “The vines need to suffer to produce grapes of character. When the roots must burrow into the earth and fight to survive, they develop a wonderful complexity. The struggle is what makes them so flavorful.” She spoke about careful strategizing, of watching the grapes closely, of taste-testing the fruit. “Great art comes from stress and hard work.”
Greer, like her vineyard, was the product of struggle and hardship. If she’d lived a pampered life in Austin, she’d not have been as unique or interesting.
As waiters filled the patrons’ first glasses with a white wine, Greer watched as Louis talked about the first wine, a Viognier. “Tasting is not drinking. You drink with food but you taste the wine naked.” He held the glass high and talked about the color and how it should be admired. He then swirled the wine in the glass and put his nose into the flute.
Louis’s explanation about wines held no interest for Bragg. He found the whole party a foolish dog-and-pony show. You either liked what was in your glass or you didn’t.
However, his interest for Greer remained keen. He watched as she smelled her wine, closed her eyes, and tasted. Her face softened and took on a sensual, seductive quality. Bragg’s body tensed with desire and he imagined peeling the dress from her honeyed skin. Would she show him that same expression as he kissed her?
Unsettled by the veracity of his attraction to Greer, he stepped outside. For a moment he stood with his back to the tasting room, staring at the stars blinking in the black sky.
The door to the tasting room opened and Winchester and his wife, Jo, appeared. Jo’s smile suggested the two had slipped away from the crowd for a private moment.
“Party’s inside,” Bragg said.
Winchester grinned and held his wife close. “I like the one outside better.”
Jo jabbed her husband in the ribs. “Brody.”
Winchester shrugged as his grin widened. He showed no sign of loosening his hold on his wife.
Bragg watched the two banter for a moment, wondering what it would be like to have a woman at his side. He’d never given it much thought, knowing the life he’d chosen didn’t leave room for families. He’d never questioned the decision until Mitch had made him accountable for someone other than himself.