He shrugged. “Oh, well.”
The cruelty behind his grin made her want to charge him. She’d spent over a decade sequestered and locked away from the world, and she was tired of carrying this indomitable weight.
Brushing past him she hurried to her truck and slid behind the wheel. Her hands trembled as she shoved the key in the ignition and drove around to the side of the building to collect her feed.
She backed up to the loading dock and for several seconds sat still. Her nerves jumped and snapped and her breath hung in her throat. She’d stayed out of the public limelight all these years to avoid the pain she’d just encountered. Last night’s party had gone well. They’d raised thousands for the Crisis Center, and she’d lulled herself into believing people had put the past behind them. But some would never let the past go. And no amount of penance or apologies would change that.
A knock on her window had her turning. A gray-haired man with a face deeply etched grinned at her. “Got your feed.”
She blew out a breath. “Great.”
Restless, she slid out of the truck, walked around to the back, and opened the tailgate. As the men on the dock loaded her order, she took several deep breaths as she willed the stress away.
A whimpering sound caught her attention. Turning, she spotted a box on the loading dock tucked to the side. Peeking out of the box was a puppy. Short haired and small, he’d been born without a right eye, she realized even at this distance. He wagged his tail as he looked at her. Clearly the deformity didn’t bother him.
Without a thought, she climbed the stairs to the top of the dock, crossed to the box, and picked up the puppy. Excited, he wagged his tail and licked her face. And then he peed on her.
Despite her encounter with Dowd, the puppy melted her worries and allowed her to push him out of her thoughts. “This is the day for people peeing on me.”
The puppy kicked his feet and licked her face.
She grinned. “Though I don’t mind yours so much.”
The one-eyed puppy was a cross between a dachshund and a terrier, which left him with wiry hair and a long back. The patchwork of reds, browns, silvers, and blacks wasn’t wholly attractive, and she suspected once he was no longer a puppy, he’d be one homely fellow.
The dock foreman came up behind her. “He’s the last of the litter. Spunky little fellow but that eye. Damn, won’t be many folks that want him.”
“Where’s his mom?”
“She left as soon as the pups were weaned. A stray.”
“Are you gonna keep him?”
“Can’t have a dog running around the dock. Especially one that looks like it was made by a bunch of politicians.”
“He have a name?”
“‘Dog’ is all we been calling him.”
She studied Dog’s closed right eye and then the excitement in the left as his wagging crooked tail thumped. And just like that she couldn’t imagine leaving him. “They say there is one born every minute.”
The old man chuckled. “You falling for that ugly face?”
“I don’t need a dog. Especially a puppy. I don’t need it.” And she didn’t need two old horses. And she didn’t need a sullen ex-soldier working her land.
The old man chuckled. “Seen that look in my wife’s eyes. Led to a dozen dogs in our thirty-one years of marriage.”
She tucked the dog under her arm, noticed that he fit well. He hunkered down as if staking a claim. No doubt the dog was smart, saw his ticket out of here, and hoped charm overcame ugly. “She willing to make it a lucky thirteen dogs?”
“Wife passed a year ago. Can’t have no more hounds in my house. But he’s all yours if you want him. I’ll even throw in a big bag of puppy chow.”
She’d think back on this moment in the near future and truly question her sanity. “I don’t suppose he’s had shots?”
“Matter of fact he did. Got all his puppy shots and been wormed.”
The dog licked her face. “You two drive a hard bargain.”
“He’s ugly as sin, but he is the smartest of the litter. Listens well.”
“Yeah, yeah. You can quit with the sales job. Load up the dog food. Dog’s coming with me.”
His grin widened. “Good for you.”
She shook her head as she stared at the contented pup. “Yeah. Right.”
As she settled into the front seat of her truck, Dog settled on her lap, and promptly rested his head and fell asleep. For a moment she sat still, savoring the warmth of his body against hers. He’d accepted her without question. She was kind to him now and that was all that mattered to him. He didn’t care about twelve years ago or twelve years in the future. It was about now.
She rubbed him on the head and fired up the engine. As she backed out of the lot, she spotted Rick Dowd. He sat in the front seat of his Lexus staring at her. Pure hate summed up his expression.
Tightening her grip on the wheel she shifted into drive and with her hand on Dog headed back to the vineyard. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Dowd’s car and to her relief he didn’t follow. But she suspected this would not be the last time for them.
Even with Dog nestled close, she couldn’t shake the shock of seeing Rick Dowd today. He’d reopened the wound.
She shifted gears as she rounded a corner, moving her left leg slowly so Dog didn’t awaken. As she pulled into a straightaway, her mind drifted back to Jeff and Sydney. The two had been the golden couple. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. Greer had often called them Barbie and Ken because they’d been perfect. And then the headlights had appeared in the distance. Horns blared. Jeff cursed. And then pain, death, and an unbearable sadness.
“Possibilities, not the past,” she’d said. The slogan embraced by the camp leaders. The words they’d drilled into their young charges. Words she still held on to.
She’d not told Bragg the entire truth today, and it weighed on her mind. She had seen one of the others since she’d left camp. Two years ago, she’d bumped into Robin. Lydia and Greer had been in Fredericksburg, Texas, at a wine tasting. They’d decided to build the winery and had decided to again check out the local competition.
The small quaint town had been jam-packed with outsiders who’d come to taste the wines of local vineyards. It had been her idea to attend. Her aunt had finished her latest round of chemo and was feeling good and hopeful for the future. Greer had been feeling hopeful. Greer had wanted the world to know Bonneville grew the best grapes but also would soon be making the best wine.
There’d been close to fifty vendors that day. Not only were vineyards present, but also cheese makers, local farmers markets, pig farmers, and bread bakers.
Greer had been sampling a port from a winery near Houston when she’d heard her name. Elizabeth. Instantly, she’d tensed. Elizabeth signaled her old life.
She glanced up, surprised and shocked, to see Robin standing there. She had a glass of wine in her hand and judging by her flushed face she was drunk.
Greer adjusted her ball cap. “Hey, Robin.”
Robin was a tall brunette with a runner’s long lean body. A white tank-top dress set off her tanned body and her full breasts. “I thought that was you. Despite the ball cap, I couldn’t miss the set of that jaw. You always struck me as determined.”
Greer straightened and set down her glass of port, suddenly losing all taste for it. She turned from the vendor and managed a smile for Robin. “You’re looking well.”
“Life is good these days.” Robin leaned in a fraction and Greer could smell beer mingling with wine and perfume. “Not like before.”
The abrupt mention of her past slammed against Greer’s defenses, and she’d instantly gone rigid. “Yeah.”
Robin had shared her story at circle only once. According to her, when she’d been seventeen, she and her brother had gone swimming at their parents’ lake house. Two children had set out on an adventure on a picture-perfect day. And then Robin’s brother had dived into the lake, hit a stump, and broke his neck. Robin had pulled
him from the water immediately but the damage had been done. He was paralyzed. He’d lingered for weeks in a coma, hooked up to a ventilator. Finally, his parents had shut off the machine and let him go. Robin had been devastated. She’d been the one who’d goaded her brother to swim that day. He’d not wanted to go, but she’d made him. And then he was dead.
After her brother’s death, Robin had spiraled into a deep depression. Finally, she’d taken an overdose of pills and gotten into a full bathtub. She’d barely been breathing, her nose hovering above the waterline, when her mother had found her. She’d spent the entire summer at Shady Grove, but like Greer no matter how much counselors spoke of self-forgiveness neither could manage it.
“I almost didn’t recognize you, Elizabeth. You’re not blond anymore.”
She didn’t mention her name change. The name like the hair color was a tie that would remain severed. “Got tired of the upkeep.”
Robin glanced at her nails. “You’ve also given up the manicures, I see.”
Greer glanced at her shorn nails. Vineyards and French manicures didn’t mix. “I’m kind of back to basics these days.”
Robin’s grin widened. “Doing the Mother Earth thing. I get it. It’s a good fit for you.”
“Thanks.”
“So do you come here often?” She swayed as she spoke. Dark sunglasses hid eyes Greer guessed were bloodshot.
“Enough.”
“I just opened a dress shop in Austin,” Robin said. “High end. Very cutting edge. It’s called Elegance.”
Greer felt frumpy next to Robin. She might have turned her back on the old life, but pride had her wishing she were a little more pulled together at this moment. “You always dressed well.”
“Like I always say, you can feel like shit, but you have to look great.”
The comment caught Greer off guard. Old protective instincts born in the camp welled. “You doing okay?”
An unexplained emotion crossed Robin’s face and then she smiled. “Never better. In fact, you should come visit me sometime in Austin. And my name is Jennifer. Jennifer Bell.”
“I go by Greer now. My middle name.”