"That sounds promising."
"She also couldn't wait to get rid of me."
Gran scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. "The easy ones aren't worth having, Charles. You should know that by now."
I bend down and press a kiss to her cheek. "I've got to get back to work. Wade's been handling the yearlings by himself."
"Go on, then." She pats my arm and picks up her book. "And Charles? Wear the blue shirt to dinner Saturday."
I chuckle and head for the barn, the afternoon heat wrapping around me as I cross the yard. Wade has a young horse in the round pen, circling at an easy lope and responding to quiet commands with the kind of trust that only comes from steady, patient handling.
Leaning against the fence rail, I watch for a minute, but my mind isn’t on the horse. It’s on the way Sunny’s voice shifted when she talked about the wine. The way her guard slipped when she forgot to keep me at arm’s length. That smile she tried to hide and the laugh that got past her anyway.
She said the difficult wines reward patience. I don’t think she was just talking about what’s in the bottle.
I push off the fence and head for the barn. There’s work to be done and a breeding program that won’t run itself even if my head is still back at that bar.
Gran’s dinner party is three days away. The guest list might be set, but the look on her face says otherwise.
And if I know my grandmother, she’s not done yet.
Chapter 2
Charlie
Gran has turned our dining room into a battlefield, and she's winning.
I come through the back door in dusty boots and a sweat-soaked shirt, reeking like I spent the day with a temperamental stallion who decided to challenge me at every step. The house smells like rosemary and slow-roasted beef tenderloin, which means Chef Delany has been in the kitchen since noon, and I'm already calculating how long until I can eat.
That thought dies the second I spot the dining room.
Oscar directs two staff members between the kitchen and the long table with military precision, one adjusting place settings while the other positions the candlesticks. Gran's wearing her pearls tonight, which means she considers this a serious occasion. The table has been set for what looks like a state dinner, with the good china and crystal wine glasses that catch the light from the chandelier.
"Charles." Gran's voice stops me mid-stride. She glances up from the papers she's shuffling and her eyes narrow. "Please tell me you are not planning to greet my guests like that."
"Your guests aren't here yet."
"They will be in ninety minutes, and you look like you've been wrestling livestock." She waves a hand toward the hallway. "Go shower."
I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms. "You know, Gran, around here a dinner party usually means brisket, a few beers, and paper plates."
"I haven't been hosting dinner parties for fifty years to serve barbeque on paper plates, Charles." She rises from her chair and moves a place card from one side of the table to the other with deliberate precision, and the strategic placement of every card says she's been plotting seating for days. "I hope you're planning to wear the blue shirt I recommended."
"It's a dinner party. Not a cotillion."
"Go." She points toward the stairs without looking up. "And might I suggest the liberal use of soap."
I head for the stairs, passing Oscar, who's returning from the kitchen. He doesn't say a thing, but the faintest twitch crosses his mustache.
"Don't start," I mutter.
"I wouldn't dream of it, Master Charlie."
I take the stairs two at a time and hit the shower, letting the hot water rinse away the grime and the knots in my shoulders. By the time I'm dressed and back downstairs, the wines from Willow Sage are breathing on the sideboard, the bottles arranged perfectly.
Gran calls it a neighborly gathering. The guest list says otherwise.
Rachel and Mason will be here. As well as Charlotte Faulkner, the real estate agent who sold us Twin Oaks. Beau Hartman from Whispering Oaks. Lila Bennett from the bookshop. Isabelle and Diego Navarro from the winery. Those are the names I've heard, anyway. Though the table has one more place setting than the number of guests on that list.
