by Jeannie Watt
“I’m always nervous.”
“You have more at stake.”
“Yeah...” Matt fell silent, but he had more to say. Liv waited, acutely aware of the now familiar stirring inside of her. He was hot, as Etta said, and that hotness was a threat—mainly because she didn’t know how to handle it. If he came on to her, she had to say no.
She didn’t want to.
People rode by, someone knocked against the far side of Liv’s trailer, but she barely noticed. She needed to move, get out of there. Instead, she said, “How’s the knee?”
“I’m doing my exercises.”
“Are you roping?”
“I am.”
“Ill effects?”
“None so far.”
“Try to keep it that way. Don’t push things.”
“Is that the professional talking?”
“Of course,” she said with a cool half smile. She could do this, hold her own against Matt.
“Tim asked me to take you to dinner the other night.”
The smile instantly evaporated, as did her cool demeanor. “My father asked you to take me to dinner?” Matt nodded and even though it seemed improbable, she believed him. “But you didn’t take me to dinner,” she pointed out, struggling to regain her composure.
“Would you have gone?”
“Maybe.”
“Want to go to dinner, Liv?”
“No.”
He laughed and all Liv could think was “Please do not ask why,” because she didn’t have an answer. Not one she could articulate, anyway, so instead she changed the subject—back to his knee.
“Have you gone to see McElroy?”
“No.” The laughter faded from Matt’s eyes. Liv wanted more, like a cross-your-heart promise not to support a drug-dealing charlatan, but it wasn’t her business and the last time she’d poked her nose into his affairs, she’d caused herself trouble.
“I need to unsaddle my horse,” she said.
“Is that a hint for me to leave?” Again he gave her the smile that made her feel as if...something...was about to happen between them.
No, it wasn’t.
Matt reached out to rub Beckett’s ears before she could say anything.
“I’ll see you around, old son,” he murmured to the horse. “You, too,” he said to Liv, who stood planted to the spot, unable to move without taking an awkward side step.
“Looking forward to it,” she said, trying for casual, managing husky.
Matt had barely walked away when Andie came out from around the trailer.
“I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Nothing to interrupt,” Liv said. She pulled the cinch loose and started unsaddling her horse, very much aware of the look her friend was giving her and choosing to pretend she was not.
* * *
HE HADN’T BEEN able to bring himself to ask to borrow Beckett. Liv didn’t trust him. The look on her face when she’d seen him standing there with the horse had been telling. She was afraid he was going to take “her” horse and he wasn’t going to risk a flat-out “no” with zero possibility for negotiation.
Not that he was giving up, but he was going to wait a day or two. Figure out the best way to ask. Mentioning Tim’s dinner plans hadn’t been the smartest thing to do, but he’d half hoped she’d say yes and then maybe they could discuss the matter in a more relaxed environment. So much for half hopes.
And if he was telling himself he only wanted to go out with Liv because of Beckett, well, he was a liar. He was curious about her and it didn’t help that every time they met, every time she faced him down, he became more and more aware of her as an attractive woman. Liv had changed, he had changed, and maybe it was time to discover what possibilities—if any—lay between them.
He went home and, after feeding Craig a pizza since it was his turn to cook, he saddled up Clancy and rode in small circles around the round pen. Back in the early days of his career, Matt trained his own horses. Now he sent them off to trainers. Clancy had been set to leave in July, but now...
Now nothing. He needed a rope horse and he was fooling himself if he thought Clancy could do the job while Ready healed. He was going to have to try to pull in some favors.
And he needed his knee to stop throbbing.
Take the season off. Let Ryan have his victory. It didn’t matter.
If only.
It was more than Ryan. He wasn’t ready to retire yet; wasn’t ready to risk having to go to work for his dad just to support himself. He didn’t have many marketable skills, so he needed to milk this roping gig for as long as he could. Come up with some skills.
Such as...
Go back to school? He hadn’t graduated with his first degree. In fact, he’d let his classes slide to the point that he’d been put on academic probation and that was when he’d quit instead of getting another tutor. The old man had thrown a fit, but he seemed all right with the decision after Matt started inching his way up the world standings.
For now, he needed a decent horse. Not a lease, but a purchase, which was going to take research and time—which he didn’t have. But what was his other choice?
Beckett.
* * *
LIV, SUFFERING FROM A massive case of performance anxiety, did not sleep well the night before the performance, and when she did sleep, she dreamed that she and Beckett ran the drill backwards while Linda fiercely tooted her whistle at them and screamed for them to stop! Turn around! Do it right!
It was almost a relief to ride into the muddy arena the next afternoon and perform the drill in the misting rain. She’d made one small mistake, probably unnoticeable to the casual observer, caught herself, corrected and other than that performed a flawless routine.
“Well done, ladies,” Linda said after they’d left the arena and gathered just outside the gate. “We’ll meet at my trailer in ten minutes. Just a couple notes about tomorrow’s performances, then you’re free to go.”
The group chattered happily as they dismounted and led their horses toward their trailers, the spangles on their pant legs glittering through the mud splatters.
“One down,” Andie said before she and Liv parted ways.
“Nine to go,” Liv said, thinking that now that she’d survived the first performance and knew what to expect, she could do this in front of an audience and enjoy it. She was relieved, satisfied, and...hallucinating? Because the guy walking down the bleacher stairs and stepping out into the rain looked very familiar.
Tim?
He disappeared behind a concession stand and Liv decided she had to be mistaken, but as she started for the parking lot, she saw her father’s distinctive truck parked under the eaves behind the arena—almost as if he’d been hiding it.
What on earth? She led Beckett in the direction of the truck just as Tim reappeared from behind the stand and pulled his keys out of his pocket.
“Dad?” she called before he opened the door. He gave a jerk, almost dropping the keys, and then, when he turned to face her he wore an expression she’d never seen before—a you-caught-me look.
“Liv. I was on my way home from the parts store and thought I’d stop and see you ride,” he said. But from the way he was looking past her, Liv had a feeling it was more than that.
“Are you...feeling okay?” she asked.
“Fine. Fine. Like I said, I thought I’d stop and make sure you don’t have any trouble getting home.”
“I thought yo
u were here to watch me ride.”
“That, too.”
“I have to talk to Linda for a few minutes about the logistics of tomorrow’s performance.” She held up the reins. “You want to take Beckett back to the trailer and load him? I’m sure he’d like to get out of the weather.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Liv watched him lead the horse away, wondering if it was a good or bad sign that he was down here. Was he terminal? Or trying to be more of a traditional father? A little late for the latter and she refused to think about the former.
Linda waited near her trailer until everyone was gathered around her, some still mounted, others on foot. “We did great!” she said. “And I think we’ll do just as well tomorrow. The rain is supposed to let up, so make an effort to get the mud stains off your gear before tomorrow’s performance.”
Liv looked down at her spattered pants. Oh, yeah. She had some work ahead of her.
“Be sure to get here early. If you have a flat tire, call...”
Liv tuned out as Linda went through her list. Why was her father there and acting so oddly? Once Linda had finished, Liv walked with Andie as far as her trailer.
“Your dad is here,” Andie said. “I saw him leaving the stands.”
“Yeah. He said he wanted to make sure I got home okay what with the mud and all.” Andie gave Liv a quizzical look. “Yeah. I know,” Liv said. “Worries me. But,” she continued in a lighter tone, “no matter why he’s here, I’d better see that he gets home.”
“Maybe I could...I don’t know...talk to him before you guys leave? Try to see if he’d come in for a physical?”
“I’m afraid it’ll just make him more stubborn if he thinks I orchestrated something like that.”
“You’re probably right.” Andie shrugged. “Keep at him.”
“Will do.” Liv started for her trailer, her boots nearly coming off her feet in the mud as she walked. She could see Tim standing at the rear, looking off at something she couldn’t see. She walked down the opposite side of the trailer to tell him she was ready to go, when she heard Margo say, “Long time, Tim.”
Liv stopped dead. There was something in Margo’s steely tone that made Liv quite certain she did not want the older woman to know she was there. Tim didn’t answer, which was no big surprise, but Margo had more to say.
“I’ve seen you here a couple of times.”
Really? Her dad had been at practice and Liv hadn’t known it? This was getting strange. And it got even stranger when Margo said, “You look like hell, Tim.”
“You don’t.” Tim’s voice was flat. Matter-of-fact.
Margo snorted. “Thanks.” There was a long moment of silence during which Liv held totally still, embarrassed to be where she was and knowing if she didn’t say something soon, it would be too late. Then Margo ensured her continued silence by saying, “I’ve never forgiven you, you know.”
“I figured as much.” Liv held her breath. It was wrong to eavesdrop, but she didn’t know how to extricate herself from her hiding spot gracefully. “How long have you been back?” he finally asked.
“Does it matter?” Margo replied. Tim did not answer and a few seconds later she said softly, “As I thought. You’re such a coward, Tim. You tore me to pieces in the name of doing what’s right, and I think you should rot because of it.”
“Margo—”
“What, Tim? I’ve been waiting a long time to tell you that to your face.”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“Bullshit. You meant to save yourself being beholden and if I got hurt in the process, that was secondary to your freedom.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s true from where I stand.” Margo slapped her hand on the side of the trailer, startling Liv. “If you could have bent a little, just a little, Tim, I think we could have been happy.”
Margo’s voice broke slightly, but she cleared her throat and continued, “Back then, anyway. Before I knew how a real partnership worked.”
Liv felt heat start to creep into her cheeks. What had happened between her father and Margo?
“And just so you know, I never touched that money you sent me back.”
“It was your money.”
“It was our money, Tim. Ours!” Margo let out a disgusted snort, then said, “I’m done.” A few seconds later she appeared at the rear of the trailer, thankfully marching directly toward her trailer without looking back.
For a moment Liv stood frozen where she was, uncertain as to how to handle the next few dicey moments. If she just appeared, would Tim realize that she’d heard everything?
Not if she were noisy. When she heard Tim start to move, she walked to the back of the trailer where he was just closing the door, her boots making suction noises in the deep mud.
“I can’t wait to get out of these wet clothes,” she said in an overly loud voice, stepping up onto the running board to run her hand over Beckett’s nose. “Ready to go home, big guy?”
She turned back to her father, who looked about as tense as she could ever remember, which was something, since Tim was one of the most tightly wound individuals she knew. “Thanks for loading him. Let’s get home and I’ll make us some tea.”
“I think I’d prefer bourbon.”
No doubt. “Whatever it takes,” Liv said.
Tim insisted on parking the trailer and unhooking it in the rain while Liv put Beckett away. He was slightly stooped as they headed across the yard and into the house.
“Did you hear?” he finally asked, putting Liv in the position of having to choose between lying to her father and embarrassing him. It took almost half a second to decide. She met his eyes blandly, a slight frown drawing her eyebrows together.
“What?”
He studied her for a moment and Liv hung on to her innocent expression for all she was worth. She didn’t want to know about Tim and Margo, didn’t want to know what her father had done that made Margo call him a coward. Tim was the least cowardly person she knew, but Margo obviously didn’t share her opinion. And the money. Their money.
Worlds were colliding, and Liv felt like she was smack in the middle.
“I, uh...” He let out a breath and started to the porch. After a slight hesitation, Liv followed. Once inside, they took off their dripping rain gear and then Liv headed straight to the kitchen to put on the kettle, ignoring the fact that her wet clothes were uncomfortably plastered to her skin.
“Do we even have bourbon?” she called into the living room.
“Cancel the bourbon,” Tim said.
“Tea?”
“Nothing. I think I’ll take a shower and go to bed.”
Liv waited in the kitchen while the kettle boiled, going over the conversation in her head for about the hundredth time. She liked Margo, who seemed like a down-to-earth, genuinely nice person. But what did she really know about her? She certainly hadn’t suspected that she and Tim had a history—and a very intimate one if they were sharing money and ripping each other apart.
The big question was, when had all this happened?
Before her mother? After? During?
Liv pressed a hand to her forehead. She hoped it wasn’t during. As it was, drill team had just become a whole lot more complicated.
* * *
MATT SPENT THE morning with Craig, helping him decide whether to buy a netbook or a tablet with the money Willa had just sent to Matt for Craig’s keep. Matt was not taking a cent for
having someone to talk to. Even if that someone was a kid, it beat staring at the walls. After Trena had left, Matt had kept himself very busy on the road; before she’d left, he’d had someone around when he was home. It struck him that he was beginning to hate spending so much time alone.
Craig eventually decided on a tablet. Matt placed the order, then they celebrated with a trip to the feed store for grain followed by dinner at the drive-in.
“What if I have to start school here?” Craig asked, finally airing the issue that had kept him quiet for most of the trip. “Mom said that she may not get an answer on her job until the end of the season. If school starts before she knows, then what am I going to do?”
Unpack? The kid was still living out of his suitcase. He did laundry, then folded it and put it back in the suitcase, even though Matt had emptied the bureau in the guest room for Craig’s stuff.
“I guess you start school here,” Matt said. “We’ll probably have to see about getting you registered eventually. Shouldn’t be a big deal transferring once your mom gets the job.”
“Great.” Craig smiled and started to put in his headphones. He had them halfway to his ears when he glanced at Matt and then wadded them back up and pocketed them. “Bad habit,” he said.
“It’s good to be available to the people around you,” Matt said. Something he’d failed at with Trena. He’d been too tired to provide decent company half the time. It didn’t have to be that way, though. Matt had made it that way.
Once home, they unloaded the grain, Craig dragging the bags to the edge of the pickup bed and Matt tossing them into the grain shed. They’d just finished when a big red Dodge pulled into the driveway, and Matt’s stomach tightened.
Why was the old man here? This couldn’t be good.
Then he saw his mother, small, blonde and smiling, and realized exactly what this was. A frontal mother assault. He hadn’t called enough lately, so she was coming to visit.
Feeling vaguely ashamed of himself—when was he going to get this relationship stuff right?—he walked over and waited for his parents to get out of the vehicle.
