Once a Champion

by Jeannie Watt

  “I’ve got to go, Dad. Say hi to Mom.”

  “You could come by and tell her yourself.”

  “Yeah. I’ll do that.”

  “I’ll tell her to expect your call.”

  “Thanks.”

  Charles turned and walked into the store without another word. Matt watched the door close behind him.

  Sell cars. Shit. Thanks for the slap in the face, Dad.

  Matt started after his dad, wondering how many times they’d bump into each other inside the store, when he was hailed from behind by a familiar voice. He turned to see Pedro Garcia, his father’s foreman, jogging across the parking lot toward him. Pedro never walked when he could run.

  “Matt! Long time!”

  “Pedro. Good to see you.”

  “Hey, you, too.” The older man slapped Matt’s arm. “What are you up to? Are you getting better? When will you compete next?”

  “The Bitterroot Challenge.”

  “Really?” Pedro scrunched his face up. “You’re going up against Madison, you know. That kid can do no wrong.”

  “So I hear.”

  “Your dad and I went and watched him a couple times last summer. You got your work cut out for you, Matt. He’s getting better and better.” Pedro beamed congenially at him. “But I know you can beat him.”

  The old man’s words sounded more like just a platitude, but Matt barely registered the fact. His father had made special trips to watch his half brother rope?

  Why did it still piss him off so much? It wasn’t like he was vying for his father’s affection.

  Because it was dishonest. And not fair to his mother.

  Plus, he hated thinking he wasn’t as good as his half brother and the sad truth was that right now, he wasn’t.

  “Hey,” Pedro said, still smiling. “You haven’t seen your dad, have you? I’m supposed to meet him here.”

  “Yeah, I did. He went inside.”

  “Great. Thanks, man. See you in Butte!” Pedro clapped Matt’s arm again, and then started jogging to the store entrance.

  Oh, yeah. He’d see Matt in Butte.

  * * *

  “GUESS WHO CHANGED his mind about an appointment?” Etta asked in a coy voice, telling Liv exactly who had changed his mind.

  “Matt Montoya?” She felt her pulse rate bump up as Etta nodded, which in turn ticked her off.

  “The same,” Etta said. “Called this morning. I put him in that three o’clock that Mr. Jones canceled. I hope that’s okay?”

  Actually, Liv had planned on leaving early that day and dealing with some issues around the ranch, but nothing she could do about it now.

  “Fine.” Just fine. No problem at all.

  Four hours later, Matt came into the examining room wearing a plain white T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts. And, heaven help her, Liv’s first thought was that he had terrific legs.

  Which he did. Perfectly muscled. Not too bulky. Just...perfect, except for the scars from too many surgeries on one knee and the fresh scars on the other.

  She frowned slightly before meeting his eyes. “It looks like both your knees have been through a lot.”

  “The right one, yeah. The left? This is the first time it’s gone out, which is why I don’t buy what the other PT told me.”

  “Who are you seeing?”

  “Rich Nygaard.”

  “I don’t know him.”

  “Just moved into the state. Supposed to be good according to my doctor.”

  “But he’s not making you better fast enough.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “It’s a common complaint.”

  Matt just shrugged. “So I’m impatient. I want to start practicing.”

  She gestured for him to take a seat, then reached out for the envelope he held in one hand. He gave it to her without a word and she took a few minutes studying the images inside. Wow.

  Turning back to Matt she knelt in front of him and put her hand on top of his knee, forcing herself to think of him just as she’d thought of her previous patient, old Mr. Zachary. Except that Mr. Zachary’s skin hadn’t felt so warm beneath her hand, and she’d had no difficulty at all meeting his eyes.

  “Tell me what you’ve been doing for both passive and active treatment.”

  “The usual stuff. Anti-inflammatory medication. Ice when it swells. Knee brace when I might stress the knee.”

  “Not that you’d ever do that.”

  “Of course not.” He smiled crookedly, momentarily turning on the Montoya charm. “I have a suite of exercises I do nightly.”

  She tested the joint, focusing on the knee rather than on Matt’s face, or his hands, which were clasped loosely in his lap. She was way too aware of him, which would never do in a patient/therapist situation.

  “What is it exactly that you want to know?” she asked.

  “I want your opinion.”

  “You want to know when you can start roping calves again.”

  He nodded.

  “Never,” she said, letting go of his leg and sitting back on her heels. “At least not at a professional level. Not with this kind of injury.”

  Matt exhaled, his mouth tightening as he focused across the room.

  “I can’t change the facts,” she said.

  He met her eyes fiercely. “I’ve seen people come back from more serious injuries than this. Broken backs, broken necks—”

  “I’m giving you my professional opinion, Matt.” One she had no doubt he’d heard before. “I can give you some exercises to help strengthen the area around your knee, which will help support it, but it’s never going to be one hundred percent and at some point you’ll probably be looking at a knee replacement.”

  “I don’t need one hundred percent. I can make up for the lost time with quicker catches.”

  For a moment Liv simply stared at him. “Why?”

  “What do you mean why?” he asked impatiently.

  “Why do you have to keep roping? You’ve had a great career, but you knew it had to end sometime.”

  “Not now,” he said stiffly.

  “Do you need the money?”

  “I need to rope.”

  “So, it’s like your...identity?” Liv asked softly, wondering why that bothered her so much.

  “It’s what I do,” Matt said, gripping the table on either side of his thighs. “And it’s what I plan to keep doing. I’m not buying what you say.”

  “What did the other PT say?” Liv pushed the hair back from the side of her face. “What did your doctor say?” And why won’t you listen to us, Matt! We’re all saying the same thing.

  Matt got off the table, bracing his hands on his hips as he stood in front of her. Liv slowly rose to her feet, her gaze locked on his. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is what I can do with some willpower and determination.”

  “You’ll destroy the joint.”

  “And then what? I’ll never rope again? According to you guys, that’s where I am right now, so what do I have to lose?”

  “Matt...you could end up with a permanent limp—at least until you get a knee replacement—and you want to hold off on that as long as possible, so you don’t have to do it twice in your lifetime.”

  He nodded in a way that made her think he’d heard all this before. “Noted.”

  He spoke sharply, then tightened one corner of his mouth as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, squeezing the tight muscles there. “I know you believe
what you’re saying and I asked for your opinion. Sorry to snap.”

  “It’s understandable,” Liv said. “I mean, an injury like this is life-changing.”

  “If you allow it to be.”

  Talk about stubborn. But Liv knew better than to say those words. She’d lived with her father for too long not to recognize the futility of arguing with a person in this mood.

  “I can give you some exercises, but I imagine they’re similar if not identical to the suite that you’re doing now.”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind a few more.”

  “Show me your routine.”

  Matt went through the exercises and then Liv said, “Those are the same I would recommend.” She reached out to touch his upper arm, as she would any of her patients...except that this didn’t feel anything like her other patients. She had wondered for so long before and during their study sessions what it would feel like to touch Matt, to be touched by him, and some primitive part of her brain was still interested in the exploration—which wouldn’t do at all.

  Even if he wanted to be her patient, she wouldn’t take him on—not when he was so intent on destroying the joint.

  Oh, yeah, and that’s the only reason...

  It wasn’t. Liv knew it, but that didn’t mean she wanted to dwell on it.

  “Thanks for your time, Liv.”

  “No problem.” She smiled weakly. “Sorry I couldn’t give you a better prognosis.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just one more thing...”

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t do the injections.”

  Matt kept his mouth shut, obviously not about to make a promise he might not keep.

  “I should have lied to you,” she muttered as she wrote on his chart. She jerked in surprise when his fingers touched her chin, her eyes flashing up to his, which were so warm, so dark.

  “You told me you’d tell me the truth and I guess that I appreciate that you did. It seems that we simply have different opinions about what’s possible.”

  What could she say to that? For one long moment she stared up at him, wishing that circumstances were different. That they could be friends. But there was too much awareness between them for that and she simply didn’t trust herself. It would be so easy to fall back into her old habits with Matt, become a pleaser. She wasn’t going to do that for anyone.

  “Fine,” she said. “Just don’t numb that knee.” She made a note on his chart and handed it back to him. “Please give this to Etta and you’re good to go.”

  “NC?” he asked. “No charge?”

  She shrugged. “You wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t shown up at your place and told you not to go to McElroy.”

  “And you’re sure of that.”

  “Damned sure of that,” she said with a half smile, feeling like she was edging toward safer ground now.

  “I pay my debts.”

  “I can’t do anything for you the other guy isn’t doing, and I practically dared you to see me—” which was a mistake “—so I’m comping the consultation.”

  Matt shrugged. “Have it your way.”

  * * *

  “ARE YOU OKAY?” Andie asked after Liv came out of the office to see her next patient, another that Etta had squeezed in on a day when she’d wanted to go home early.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Liv asked.

  “Matt?”

  Liv let out a soft snort. “The consultation went fine. He didn’t like what I had to say and he’s not coming back.”

  “Well, I’ll give him credit for at least coming in,” Andie said, her gaze traveling over Liv in a way she didn’t like at all. Andie was too damned observant. “Here’s guess number two as to why you look so stressed,” she said. “Tim?”

  Liv blew out a huff of breath. “Yes.” Better for Andie to think it was Tim and only Tim raising her blood pressure. “He says he’s better. I don’t believe him.”

  “We may have to kidnap him,” Andie said, sounding as if she weren’t kidding one bit.

  “If we do, we’ll have to take him to a male doctor. My father has strict notions concerning gender.”

  “Nothing like dealing with a stubborn man.”

  “Amen to that.” Liv gestured at the waiting room. “In fact, I have another one waiting for me. Won’t do his back exercises because they hurt.”

  “Which means they hurt even more when he does do them.” Andie pulled a chart out of the holder on the door closest to her, then smiled. “Well, good luck with that.”

  “Do you need a ride to practice tonight?” Liv asked before Andie could open the door to the examination room.

  “Not unless you want to give me one.”

  “I like the company,” Liv said. And Beckett had made friends with Andie’s horse, Mike.

  “Sure. Pick me up at six? No...better make it five-thirty. We get our uniforms tonight.”

  “I’ll be there,” Liv said. Five-thirty wouldn’t leave her much time to get home after this last patient, but it also didn’t give her too much time to think. She liked that last part because she was still thinking about Matt. It seemed pretty damned impossible not to.

  * * *

  MATT DIDN’T GO home immediately because he didn’t want Craig to key into his mood. The kid was remarkably astute and right now, Matt would just as soon keep his frustrations to himself.

  What if the experts were right? He’d had three opinions and they all agreed that his career was over.

  Could he deal with that?

  Not now. He’d always figured he’d choose the time to retire, not have it forced upon him. Damn it, he wasn’t ready to stop competing.

  He tossed a rock into the river, watched the ripples. He couldn’t remember a time when rodeo competition wasn’t important to him. It’d been how he and his father had bonded when he’d been very young, and later it had been the only way he could deal with his feelings after discovering his father’s betrayal.

  Another rock broke the surface of the water. He quickly threw a third rock, destroying the ripples from the second, and felt an odd satisfaction.

  The fish were rising and for a moment he stopped tossing pebbles and watched as the bubbles came closer.

  He and the old man had fished, too. They’d done a lot of things, but finding out about Ryan had pretty much ruined everything—his hero worship, his respect. Pretty much everything in his relationship with his dad had gone sideways.

  And the old man had no one to blame but himself.

  He wondered, as always, if his father knew he knew. Matt didn’t know how his dad would have found out, but he had to wonder.

  So let him.

  Matt got to his feet and headed for the truck. Craig was probably polishing the silver by now, or he would be if Matt had any.

  Maybe he should show the kid how to clean and polish bits, spurs and conchos. Keep Craig busy while keeping his gear nice. Something to think about.

  Something else to think about was why Liv had comped his visit. There’d been a healthy vibe humming between them as she’d examined him and there’d even been a point while she’d been running those small hands of hers over his lower thigh when he’d been pretty damned certain that he was going to embarrass himself. And her.

  She was still nervous about him taking Beckett back, yet she’d come to warn him off McElroy. Challenged him to come see her. So he’d gone. Out of curiosity, really, and a vague hope that maybe she could hel
p.

  Instead, she’d given him her blunt opinion, comped the visit, wished him good luck, sent him on his way. She could just as easily have lied to him and told him she could help him get better. Strung him along, taken his insurance money, more importantly, kept him from seeking help from the doctor whose practices she so deeply disapproved of. But she hadn’t.

  Again, why? It didn’t add up.

  And why did it matter to him?

  * * *

  TIM WAS SITTING on the porch when Matt parked in his usual spot under the elm tree. Amazing that he’d been here so often that he had a usual spot.

  Tim stood as soon as Matt started toward him, moving carefully since he wasn’t wearing his brace. “Liv’s not here. And neither is her horse.” Tim wiped his hands on the sides of his pants, as if preparing to settle a score. Next thing he’d be spitting on his fists and getting ready to fight.

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  That got the older man’s attention—and maybe not in a good way, judging from the scowl on his face. But then Tim had never been a big smiler.

  Matt shoved his hands into his back pockets and looked around, assessing the damage, before focusing once again on Tim. It was pretty obvious from the way Tim’s scowl deepened that he was aware of Matt’s train of thought, so Matt didn’t waste any time outlining the situation. Instead, he simply said, “I can help.”

  “Help with what?”

  “Help you get this place back into shape.” If anything, Tim’s expression darkened even more. “I don’t know what happened,” Matt continued, “and it isn’t my business. But if you need a hand getting things set right again, I have some time I can give you.”

  “Must be nice.”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s swell,” Matt said in a voice edged in bitter irony. “But a guy can only rope a dummy for so long every day.”

  Tim was studying him closely now, looking for the catch, and Matt knew better than to try to play innocent. It might work on some guys, but not Tim Bailey.

  “Why?”

  “It’s not to get the horse back,” Matt said. “Although I want that horse back more than you’ll ever know.” This was harder than he’d thought it’d be, facing off with Tim like this. The guy was stubborn and proud, as was his daughter—although Matt hadn’t figured that out until recently.