by Jeannie Watt
“You’re asking your friends to pay a ridiculous amount of money for a dress they’ll never wear again.”
“It’s common practice.”
“So is cheating on taxes and not tipping. It doesn’t make it right.”
Vivian dropped her napkin on the table and jumped to her feet. “I need to powder my nose. Will you excuse us, Shae?”
Liv groaned, the heavily emphasized “us” making it clear that she was to accompany her mother to the john. Well, she wasn’t going. She smiled at Shae and was about to say that she’d be happy to do some internet research on reasonably priced dresses, when her mother took her by the arm and practically lifted her out of the chair.
In order to avoid being frog-marched into the bathroom, Liv stood and allowed Vivian to steer her across the dining room. The bathroom door was barely shut when Vivian said, “What are you doing? You’re ruining the day!”
“I’m pointing out some things for Shae to think about.” Other than herself.
“Don’t make waves, Liv. I want Shae to have a nice wedding.”
“Mom, a person can have a nice wedding without strong-arming her friends into extravagant purchases.”
“It’s common—” Vivian’s mouth snapped shut.
“Practice?”
“Olivia...please?”
Liv finally let out a breath and glanced off to her left, away from her mother, toward the elaborate silk flower arrangement next to the far sink. “Fine. I’ll scrape up enough money for a dress I’ll wear one time.”
“It’s tea length.”
Liv almost laughed. “Come on, Mom. How many bridesmaids dresses are fit to be worn twice?”
“Why are you being like this?” The desperate note in her mother’s voice sent a stab of guilt through her. It was then she noticed the tears welling up in the corners of her mother’s eyes. Her mother was no stranger to tears, but she cried only when she was truly upset.
“I—” Liv made a frustrated gesture “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“I don’t understand this.”
“What?”
“Why you’re being so stubborn.”
Liv leaned back against the counter, thoroughly glad that no one else needed to use the restroom. “I was cooperative all morning.”
“You’re not cooperating now.”
“I am tired of letting myself get pushed into things.” And Shae was almost as good at pushing as Greg had been.
“Do you have to make a stand now?”
Liv exhaled. This was not the time to rebel. What purpose would this serve? She could come up with three hundred dollars for a dress. Four hundred if she had to. But she was drawing the line at five.
Vivian opened her mouth, but Liv raised a hand. “I want Shae to have a nice wedding, too. And I’ll buy a dress—the dress of Shae’s dreams—as long as it’s not over four hundred and fifty dollars...without making any more comments.”
“Thank you.” Vivian took a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at the corners of her red-rimmed eyes. Liv waited while she reapplied lipstick, then led the way out of the restroom, hoping it wasn’t evident that Vivian had almost started to cry.
Shae made an effort not to look at Vivian too closely, so Liv figured that it was indeed obvious that she had been a bad daughter and made her mother cry.
The waiter appeared with a tray of desserts, giving Vivian time to fully compose herself and by the time he left, she smiled and said, “Where to next?”
Shae cut a quick look at Liv who blandly met it, determined to make the best of the day and to not upset her mother again. Go ahead, Shae. Rape my bank account in the name of love and making a statement.
“The Bon,” Shae said with a touch of challenge in her voice.
Liv shrugged and then shouldered her purse. “Sounds good.”
Vivian beamed.
* * *
BY THE TIME Liv got home, her head was throbbing from smiling and holding in her thoughts for her mother’s sake. Shae had her list narrowed down to three dresses, all between two and three hundred dollars, surprisingly, and now she was going to consult with the other bridesmaids before doing what she darned well pleased.
The tractor was parked next to the barn and when Liv went into the house, she noticed that Tim’s door was shut.
Was he napping again? Another bout of exhaustion? Or maybe he knew that she planned to have a frank discussion with him and was avoiding it.
Liv dumped her tote bag beside the door and went to change into her riding clothes. She needed some time in the saddle and maybe a beer to help her de-stress. The ride would come first.
She went into the barn and scooped up the grain, a little surprised that Beckett didn’t come ambling into the open part of the barn when he heard the grain. Maybe he was out in the belly-deep grass.
“Hey,” Liv called as she opened the man door that lead to the corral and pasture beyond that. Something was wrong. The corral was empty, as was the pasture. Not one sign of a horse. There was only one gate to the twenty-acre pasture and it was next to the barn, closed and latched.
“That son of a bitch.”
CHAPTER SIX
LIV DROPPED THE BUCKET then stormed back to the house. She was almost to the door when she realized that she didn’t have Matt’s phone number.
No problem. She’d go see him in person.
Except that she didn’t know where he lived.
Damn.
She grabbed the phone book out of the drawer and flipped through it. Montoya Land and Ranch...no, she was certain he wasn’t living at home. He had some kind of an issue with his father, nothing he spoke of, but something she’d picked up on during their semester of studying.
The only other listed Montoya was Willa.
Muttering a dark curse, Liv slammed the phone book shut, then opened it again and dialed Willa’s number. Out of service. Then she dialed the number to the ranch and got an immediate answer—a sweet, feminine voice.
“Mrs. Montoya?” Liv ventured, hoping it was indeed Matt’s mom, who’d always liked her.
“Yes?”
“Hi. This is Liv Bailey.” How on earth did she sound so calm and pleasant? She should get an Oscar for this performance. “I’m trying to get hold of Matt.”
“Liv!” Mrs. Montoya sounded delighted. “I heard you’d moved back.”
“Yes, I’m living with Dad and setting up a practice here.”
“That’s wonderful. I may have to get Charles in to see you. He’s been having some terrific lower back issues. What exactly do we have to do to set up an appointment?”
“All I need is a referral,” she said. And Matt’s phone number...
“Are you affiliated with anyone?”
“I’m renting a space in Andrea Ballentine’s building.”
“So we should go to Andrea?”
“Any doctor will do. I just need the referral for insurance purposes.” Liv twisted the cord in her hand. Come on. The number. Give me the number.
“Wonderful. Now, you were saying you need to talk to Matt?”
“I need his advice on a livestock issue.”
Mrs. Montoya laughed. “Well, it isn’t like he doesn’t owe you. Do you want his cell or the house?”
“Both,” Liv said sweetly as she twisted the cord even tighter. Oh, yeah. He owed her. And once she hung up, her big debate was whether to involve the sheriff now or later.
Later. Right now she wanted a piec
e of him. It took another few minutes to finish her conversation with Mrs. Montoya, who had a lot to say, and then she instantly dialed the first number she’d written down—the house.
It rang six times and she was ready to hang up when an adolescent voice said, “Hello?”
Liv hesitated, wondering if she’d dialed wrong, or if Mrs. Montoya had given her the wrong number. “May I please speak to Matt?”
“He’s out practicing. I’ll take a message if you want.”
“No. Thank you.” Liv hung up without saying goodbye or asking when the horse thief was expected to finish practice. She dialed the cell and Matt answered on the fifth ring. Apparently she’d caught him midswing.
“This is Liv,” she said flatly. “Where’s my horse?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Beckett is missing.”
“Missing?” There was a brief stunned pause and then Matt asked in a steely voice, “You think I took him?”
“The gate is closed and latched. The horse is gone.”
Matt muttered a curse, barely audible, but Liv heard it and couldn’t say she liked the tone. “You know what?” Matt said in the same quiet voice. “You’ve got a hell of a lot of nerve, calling me and accusing me of stealing.”
“You said this wasn’t over,” Liv said.
“And that means I stole your horse.”
“You want him and he’s gone.”
“I don’t have him.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, I don’t care what you believe. I don’t have Beckett and you’re wasting time on the phone when you should be out checking your fence lines.”
“He didn’t get out through the fence.”
“Yeah? Well, if your fences look anything like the rest of your place, I bet he did. He could probably step over them they’re sagging so low.”
Liv put a hand to her head. She hated that he’d just made a viable point. The fences weren’t bad close to the house, so she hadn’t walked the perimeter before releasing Beckett into the pasture. What did the far fence look like?
“This isn’t over,” she said.
“You’re damned ri—”
Liv hung up before he could finish the sentence. She pulled an elastic out of her pocket and gathered her hair into a low ponytail as she headed out the door. If Beckett had walked over the fence, it was a matter of calling neighbors.
Matt probably has him.
Although he had seemed genuinely outraged at her accusation. But perhaps he was a consummate actor. He certainly had a way of telling people what they wanted to hear so that they would do what he wanted. How many times had she blushed when he’d given her a charming offhand compliment as they had studied together?
Matt and Shae. Definitely a pair. At least Shae had always been honest with her, through both words and actions.
Liv let herself into the pasture through the gate, then started walking the fence line, noting that after she turned the corner and started north that the wire was loose—but it didn’t sag and certainly not enough for a horse to step over. She continued walking, keeping a hand on the smooth top wire as she went, trying not to think about what she was going to do if the fence was intact.
Call neighbors. Put up notices. Ask the sheriff to check Matt’s place. As if he’d be stupid enough to keep the horse there. All right, check his parents’ ranch.
She was approaching the second corner-post set when she saw the rooster tail of dust in her driveway. Tim was home. She pulled out her cell to call him, tell him what was up, when she saw the glint of silver as the truck pulled to a stop.
Matt. Great.
She put her head down and kept walking, which was difficult, since the back fence line did not border a field, but instead ran along an unfarmable draw. Willows and tall grass had grown up along the stretch. She’d only made a few yards when Matt let himself through the gate and headed out across the field toward her, his strides long and purposeful for a guy with a knee injury.
Liv sucked in a breath, telling herself that there was no need for her heart to be hammering. But it didn’t help. From the way Matt was stalking across the pasture toward her she had a strong feeling that he was not the guy who’d stolen her horse.
* * *
MATT COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time he’d been so totally pissed, which was something considering the turns his life had taken lately. What was up with this woman?
They’d studied together for half a year, intense sessions three times a week, and he’d thought he’d known her—or what there was to know. Liv had been a shy girl who made academics the focus of her life. Well, she wasn’t so shy anymore and had no qualms about making accusations with a vehemence that surprised him.
He and Liv were going to have a talk, he was going to find out what the hell was going on and they were going to find Beckett.
Liv tilted her chin up slightly as he approached, a stubborn expression on her face. Or maybe it was defensive. Whatever, it wasn’t welcoming.
“How’d you get here so fast?” she asked, firing the first shot.
“I only live two miles away. Did you find where he got out?”
“No. The fence seems fairly tight and I’m not yet convinced that he got out.” She gave a small challenging jerk of her chin with the last words, but he could see doubt in her eyes. Maybe Liv was starting to rethink her accusation. Good.
Matt walked past her to the fence and took hold of the top wire, lifting it a good three inches. “Yeah. Tight.”
“Too tight to walk over,” she muttered.
He shook his head and started along the fence line, not trusting himself to say anything else. It took a few seconds, but he heard Liv fall into step behind him. If there wasn’t a hole in the fence—
He barely started the thought when Liv’s cell phone rang. He stopped and turned toward her when she answered it.
“Hello,” she said without looking at the number, and then she squeezed her eyes shut as if in pain. “This is kind of a bad time—” Another grimace. “Yes, the lavender was nice...the green, too...no, I don’t mind the extra fifty bucks. Shae—” She fell silent and listened. “Can I call you back? Beckett’s gone and I’m—” she met Matt’s eyes before continuing “—dealing with it. Sure. As soon as I know something. Thanks.”
She’d barely pocketed the phone when it rang again, only this time she did look at the caller’s number. Her eyes widened slightly as she put the phone to her ear. “Dad, hi.”
Her tight expression began to change as she listened to her father. A hand went up to her forehead as she studied the ground. “Really?” Once again her eyes, very blue and very conflicted, came up to meet his, held briefly, then dropped again. “No. I’m home now.”
“Find your horse?” Matt asked softly. Liv turned her head away and put a finger in her ear so that she heard only her father.
“He’s all right? No wire cuts?” The sun moved out from behind a cloud as she spoke, warming Matt’s back and making Liv’s reddish-brown hair dance with glints of gold in a rather spectacular way. He didn’t remember her hair being that particular color, but they’d usually been inside, under flat incandescent light. “Good. I’ll see you soon,” she said.
Liv’s shoulders dropped as she pocketed the phone. She gave her head a small shake, then resolutely looked up at Matt. “I owe you an apology.”
Matt didn’t respond after she stated the obvious and color started to rise in her
cheeks. Ah, the curse of pale skin.
“Beckett got out and went over to the Raynor place. They called, and Dad went to get him.” One corner of her mouth tightened briefly. “He thought I might get home and find him and Becket gone and worry, so...” She held up the phone.
“Too bad he didn’t call sooner.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“Yeah.” Matt looked around the field. “That makes it all better. I guess I’m lucky you didn’t call the sheriff on me.” His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t, did you?”
“No.” Liv shifted her weight, and he couldn’t help but notice that she looked pretty damned good in her worn-out jeans. Again, he couldn’t remember her ever wearing anything like that when she’d tutored him, but...maybe he didn’t remember much about Liv, except that she’d been kind of sweet and smart. And handy.
“But you were going to?” he asked, thinking that was all he needed to make his life complete.
“The thought had crossed my mind,” she said coldly.
“You honestly thought I’d come here and steal Beckett.”
“You said this wasn’t over,” Liv said. “And I happen to know that you’re not above doing what you have to in order to get your way.”
“What does that mean?”
Liv shrugged but did not elaborate.
“What did I ever do to you to earn such a low opinion? I can’t think of one freaking thing.”
Again the color rose in her cheeks, but her mouth was clamped so tightly shut that her lips were starting to turn white. Matt waited a couple seconds, and when she remained silent, he said, “I’d better go.”
He needed to get out of there before he said something he regretted. He hadn’t given up on getting Beckett back and he was so damned close to burning this bridge...
He started across the field, leaving Liv standing next to the fence. There wasn’t one single thing he understood about what had just taken place between them.
