“A vineyard owner drinks beer?”

“We can be quite the beer drinkers.” She extended her arm toward the tasting room. She wanted to shoo him into the tasting room far away from her. “The food’s also delicious.”

Instead of leaving, he held his ground, but his gaze moved to the party. “You got a lot of fancy folks in there.”

“They dress up well, but they’re exactly like the rest of us.”

“First time you’ve seen a lot of these folks in a while?”

He’d been asking around about her. “That’s right.”

“How’s it going?”

“About as well as you could expect. I’m sure my ears will be burning for a week or two and then people will forget about me. I’m the flavor of the week.”

“I doubt they’ll forget you.” An edge sharpened his words.

Her heart beat faster. “You overestimate me.”

“Rory Edwards didn’t forget you.”

The statement hit her square in the chest like a one-two punch. “No, he did not. Have you found out what happened to Rory?”

“Still working on it. His brother didn’t have many nice words to say about you.”

“No, I don’t suppose David did.” The last time she’d spoken to David was when she’d shown up at Rory’s house. Her aunt had driven her there right after she’d left Shady Grove. David had answered the door. She couldn’t remember the entire conversation, but it ended along the lines of: they didn’t need her kind of trouble. “I was young and very upset the last time I spoke to him.”

“You made a hell of an impression on him.”

She refused to attach to the anger and frustration building in her. “If you are here to enjoy the party, then please do so. But if you’re here to dig up my past, I’m not going to play tonight. I’ve made a commitment to raise money for the Crisis Center and I won’t be effective if you reduce me to tears.”

His eyes sparked with humor. “You don’t look like you’re about to cry to me.”

“Don’t believe it.”

He shook his head. “You’re one tough gal, Ms. Templeton. I bet you do exactly what needs to be done no matter how tough the job.”

“That good or bad?”

“Suppose that depends on what job needs to be done.” He studied her a beat. And then as if rethinking his line of questioning, he said, “How’s Mitch doing?”

“Quiet. But a hard worker. I like the kid.”

“Why?”

She shook her head. “He’s patient and kind with the animals. Beauty is not an easy horse, but he keeps his cool no matter how difficult she can be.”

He rested his hand on his hip inches from his badge. “Tell me why you hired Mitch.”

Insistence underscored his words, and she had the sense he’d not take her standard line of making the world a better place. She shoved out a breath and opted for the pure truth. “He reminds me of myself.” And my brother.

“How so?”

“I know he served in Iraq and he saw some bad stuff. I know he lost friends. I also know the kind of pain that goes with losing someone you love. I thought I could give him a place to heal.”

“What makes you an expert?”

“In all honesty, I don’t know if what I’m doing is right. But sitting around and isolating himself is not doing him a bit of good. Working with the animals helped me. Spending hours in the vineyard pulling weeds and picking grapes gave me a focus. I thought it might help him.”

He glanced toward the empty corral. “My nephew is not a project to make you feel better about yourself.”

“No. No, he is a young man who needs time to heal.”

“And when he’s better, you’ll cut him loose?” Anger edged the words.

“He may cut me loose. He may wake up one morning and feel like his old self and take off. I have no idea what’s going to happen. Like I said, I don’t have a master plan.”

Bragg didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who had a family. She couldn’t imagine him living in a house with the white picket fence. “You must have been young when Mitch was born.”

“He’s my older sister’s boy. She was nineteen. I was fifteen.”

No elaboration. Mitch had said she’d died three years ago. Her death had left a hole in their lives. As much as Greer wanted to ask, she didn’t. Tec Bragg’s personal life was none of her business, even if it intrigued her. “Mitch is a good kid.”

“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.