You're Not Safe (Texas Rangers) by Mary Burton Read Free Book Online

booth because it’s what she would have chosen.
    She found him in the last booth, slumped over a half-eaten sandwich and staring into his beer. He was young. Barely over twenty, he had dark hair, tanned skin, and a square jaw. He wore a dark T-shirt, jeans, and a thick watch on his left wrist. His face retained a boyish quality contradicting coiled tautness reminiscent of a spring ready to pop.
    Drawing in a breath, she questioned the sanity of her decision. She should leave well enough alone. Just walk away. Take care of number one. But a promise was a promise, and the sooner it was met the faster she could retreat.
    Gritting her teeth, she slid into the opposite side of his booth. He glanced up, studied her, his gaze narrowing.
    “My name is Greer.”
    Dark circles under his eyes told her he wasn’t sleeping. And if she didn’t miss her guess, eating was a chore, and he’d pulled away from everyone who tried to help. He amounted to a lot of work and trouble.
    Annoyed, he eased back against the back of the booth. He didn’t want her here, likely wanted to tell her to shove off, but something in him kept him from being overtly rude.
    “You’re Mitch.”
    He swirled the straw a bit faster in the soda as a subtle anxiety rippled through him. “Maybe.”
    She really did not want to do this. She did not want to reach out, connect, or have contact with this kid and the pain he carried. But she had a debt. And she paid her debts.
    She laid her palms on the table and stared at her deeply tanned hands before raising her gaze to him. “Mitch Bragg, right?”
    “If my uncle has sent you to talk to me, I’m not buying. I want to be left alone.” Fatigue coated each word.
    She understood that kind of fatigue. It ran bone deep and demanded he crawl into bed and pull the blankets over his head. That had been her once. And it had taken her a year to shake the exhaustion. “I’ve never met your uncle. And I honestly don’t care to.”
    He arched a brow. “Who are you?”
    “Greer.”
    “I don’t know you.”
    “I don’t know you, either.”
    “Go away.”
    “Believe me, I’d love to. In fact, nothing would make me happier right now.”
    His scowl deepened. “Then go.”
    She flatted her hands on the table. “I don’t come into town much, and I’m not a fan of crowds. They make me irritable. I’m hoping to get out of here before it gets too busy.”
    A hint of knowing flickered in his gaze as he studied her, taking in her long braided brown hair, weathered blue T-shirt, jeans, and the two silver bracelets hugging her left wrist. “Get to the point.”
    Several loud patrons burst through the front of the pub. Their loud laughter echoed off the dark walls covered with hundreds of photographs. Soon the place would be filling up, and she already itched to be in her truck driving out of town.
    “A friend asked me to talk to you.”
    “I don’t like to talk.”
    “Thank God.” She didn’t hide her relief. “I don’t like to talk. So we will keep this short.”
    He studied her, confusion seeping through annoyance. “You aren’t making sense.”
    “I heard you needed a job. I need help. I run a vineyard outside of town.”
    Amusement flickered behind the annoyance. “I don’t know a single fact about wine.”
    “I need a strong man who can work the land. I don’t need experts. I’ve plenty of those. You’d be doing manual labor. You’ll start with picking weeds.”
    “Why me?”
    “Heard from a friend of a friend you could use a job and seeing Memorial Day just passed it makes sense to hire a vet.”
    A bitter smile twisted the edge of his lips. “I’m your patriotic duty?”
    “Maybe. Does it matter?”
    “I don’t know.”
    She pulled a card from her back pocket. “This is my place. About thirty miles outside of Austin in the Hill Country. We’re really not easy to find so you’ll have to be on the lookout for our sign. It’s small. If you want the work, then come. If you want to sit in the