by Jeannie Watt
“And...”
“And I wouldn’t let her bankroll me,” he said as if it were obvious.
“First she wanted to pay for the place herself, but I said no. Then she wanted to go fifty-fifty.”
“Fifty-fifty seems fair.”
Tim’s jaw clenched tight, making the cords in his neck stand out for a moment before he spoke. “My dad never did shit around the place when I was growing up.” Liv blinked. “My ma did everything, paid for everything. I decided clear back when I was a kid that I was never going to be that kind of man. Having other people do things for me. I was going to be the doer. The provider.”
“You’ve done that,” Liv murmured. Tim gave a jerky nod and Liv began to wonder if maybe she shouldn’t have opened this particular can of worms. She’d never met her grandfather—he’d passed before she was born and Tim rarely spoke of him. Now she knew why. Tim had no respect for him.
“That’s why you broke up?”
“There were other reasons, but that was one of them. She told me I was stubborn and if I couldn’t learn to bend a little, then she wouldn’t want to bend, either. So she left.”
“Damn, Dad.”
“I screwed up, although, looking back, I don’t think I could have done it any differently at that age. I was still so damned mad at my dad for working my ma to death.” His head fell back against the headrest. “So Margo married Bill Carlton and moved to Wyoming.”
“And you?”
“I married your mom.”
“Why?” The question she’d wondered about for at least two decades slipped right out of her mouth.
“Your mom was...is...beautiful and bubbly and she was the picture of cooperation. She agreed to whatever I said.” Tim’s mouth tightened slightly. “And I liked that, at first.”
“Not so much later?”
“I don’t like talking about this.”
“That’s okay. I don’t blame either of you. I could just never figure out why you got married.”
“Now you know.” He sounded bitter, but Liv was relieved to finally know the score. Her dad had screwed up. So had Margo, in a way. Neither had been willing to bend.
“So...no chance of you and Margo ever becoming friends again?”
Tim snorted. “Let me put it this way...can you think of anything that would piss me off more than paying my hospital bill?”
Excellent point. Margo played hardball.
“Thirty years and she’s still pissed,” Tim grumbled, reaching for the TV remote, a sure sign that this uncomfortable but illuminating conversation was over.
Liv stood up and went to the back of her father’s chair and lightly put her hands on the headrest. “You might want to ask yourself, Dad, why is she still so angry after thirty years?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CRAIG SENT MATT an email every day, asking about the animals, the roping, offering a few cleaning tips. Matt smiled every time he read one. Damn, but he missed that kid. The house was empty without Craig and right now his life felt empty without Liv—although he was doing his damndest to move past that. He’d cared for her; she hadn’t cared for him. Not enough anyway.
He rode Beckett daily, getting the horse back into shape as quickly as possible without souring him, and the rest of the time he roped off from one of his practice horses. In the evenings, he headed into Dillon and drank too much with Pete and sometimes Wes, although Wes rarely drank more than one beer. Occasionally Etta joined them, and Matt soon realized that she did not hold a grudge. In fact, now that he was no longer seeing Liv, she was game for another round. So far, Matt had put her off. He enjoyed her company, but was not interested in what she had in mind. She was funny, though, and could hold her own with the guys, which he’d always admired in a woman.
Jed never came out with them because he was now a worn-out but proud papa of two. Matt was amazed to feel stirrings of envy, which was stupid, because he was about to go back out on the road and if there were one thing he had figured out over the past few years it was that traveling and families didn’t mix—unless the families came along.
Wes let it be known whenever the subject of injury came up that he was of the same mind as Liv when it came to numbing pain—which might have been why Matt lowered the dosage. Once, then twice, then finally gave it up altogether.
Now his knee hurt, but it didn’t swell as much as before and the brace seemed to be doing its job. He was slower than he should be, but Beckett could help him add seconds to his time and thus compensate. Would he win the championship this year? Probably not. Would he beat his smart-ass brother in front of his dad and the hometown crowd?
Oh, yeah. He would make Ryan eat his words. Focusing on time and his knee helped him not focus on the one area of his life that was totally ruining him. The relationship part.
In the long run, it might be for the best that Liv kicked him out of her life. He was now deep into the competitive zone; his days revolved around roping. Despite what he’d told Liv, he’d probably have tried to put competition above his relationship. And Liv had been afraid that she’d let him do that, at her expense.
As if.
What Liv seemed to be missing here was that she hadn’t given an inch in the relationship that she pretended they weren’t having. If anyone had bent it was him. He’d shown her he cared, in every way he knew how and it hadn’t been enough. He was tired of sleepless nights, tired of his gut being all tied up. They could have had so much more, did have so much more when Liv forgot herself and let her guard down, but now he was done. Frustrated, angry and done.
* * *
LINDA, WHO WAS horrified when she discovered that one of her team members was unmounted, lent Liv a horse. A small fine-boned bay Paso Fino named Queso, who felt like a pony after riding sturdy Beckett. No one to blame but herself. She was once again perusing the ads, looking for a big quarter horse gelding, knowing that none would be the same as Beckett.
She’d had to let him go, though. She wanted no ties to Matt. No strings. It was him wanting those things that had gotten her into trouble in the first place.
Why couldn’t they have continued as they were? When had Matt become a relationship guy?
A one-woman guy. And she could have been that woman.
She didn’t want to be anyone’s woman.
But she was also stunned at how much she hated seeing Matt with another woman—and of all people, it was Etta she saw sitting on the hood of his truck during the roping practice cheering him on. Etta, who’d been quite open about finding Matt H-O-T. Hot.
Well, fine. Etta. Have at him. It’s only fair since I can’t give him what he wants.
Liv was not one for sour grapes.
Much.
The next three rodeos were going to be interesting and unsettling because, according to Etta, Matt would be roping in all of them. Such was life. She’d tackle the situation one rodeo at a time and hopefully, by the Bitterroot Challenge, the awkwardness would be gone.
She hoped.
* * *
THE DAY OF the Newport rodeo arrived, the first of what Liv had come to think of as the dreaded Big Three, rainy and nasty. Liv went out to hook up the trailer and load Queso, only to find Tim had beaten her to it.
“I thought you were in the bathroom,” she said as rain poured down her face.
“I’m not. I’m out here hooking up the trailer.”
“Why?”
“I’m going.”
&n
bsp; “Again, why?”
“I have some business to attend to and this is the first step.”
Liv decided that she knew enough. The business probably had something to do with Margo, and she was not getting involved. Asking questions about the past was one thing. Watching her father deal with an old flame in real time, another.
“I thought maybe you didn’t trust me to drive in the rain.”
“Yeah. Right.”
Liv smiled at that. Tim met her eyes, but didn’t smile back. He looked...nervous. Well, she was nervous, too. She had no intention of watching Matt rope, but she was facing the possibility of their first post-breakup encounter, and so not looking forward to it.
The rain had let up by the time they reached Butte and a watery sun hung low in the eastern sky when they arrived in Newport. Liv had asked Tim to drive because the few times she’d driven him to see the doctor, watching him fidget in the passenger seat had made her crazy.
Would Tim want to leave early today? As soon as her performance was done? Would he be done with his “business” by then?
Damn. She hoped so. She could talk all she wanted about living her own life, but just being in the same place as Matt was unsettling, which only added to her conviction that she’d made the right choice.
The only choice.
Then why do you keep chasing it around your head?
Why do you feel so miserable?
Because she’d let it go too far. Because Matt hadn’t played by the rules. Because she missed what they had had. She missed the feel of his hands on her body. Missed their lighthearted conversations, the way he’d gently tease her and smile as if he’d scored a point when she retaliated.
Sex and laughter.
The best.
And how very superficial.
Liv shoved the niggling thought out of her mind.
* * *
THE PARKING AREA WAS packed with trucks and trailers. Tim easily maneuvered into a parking spot toward the west edge where the Rhinestone Rough Riders had agreed to meet, parking in the last spot next to Andie’s outfit. Margo, who had the only trailer with living quarters, was parked two spaces down, and Liv noticed Tim eyeing the trailer as he drove by.
This was going to be one interesting day. Liv reached for the aspirin in the side panel of the door, popped two into her mouth, then one more for good measure and washed it down with what was left of her coffee.
Tim’s expression was grim as he parked, but he didn’t say a word as he went back to open the trailer and hold the door while Liv lead Queso out onto the muddy grass.
“Hey, Liv.” Linda walked by leading her buckskin, whose back was damp. “Do you have that extra tail barrette?”
“Yes. Let me grab it from the tack room.”
Liv handed off the barrette to Linda, then busied herself decking Queso and herself out in Rough Rider finery, trying not to think about Matt, or worse yet, seeing Beckett and bursting into tears, because even though giving him back had been the right thing to do, she really, really missed her horse. She also tried not to wonder where her father was, because shortly after closing the trailer door, he disappeared. Liv didn’t know if he’d gone to get a seat in the stands or a cup of coffee. Margo had her horse tied to her trailer and every now and then Liv saw her moving around the animal, so if Tim had come to settle some things with her, then he wasn’t doing it now. Thank goodness.
“Hey, Liv,” Susie called from the front of Liv’s truck where she stood with Linda and Ronnie. “We have over an hour before warming up. Want to go watch the action with us?”
“I’m going to stay here,” Liv said, her fingers busy in the horse’s mane.
Susie waved an acknowledgment and the group ambled on, their long, sparkly pant legs rolled up four or five times to keep them out of the mud.
Liv continued to work on Queso. Once his mane was braided, maybe she’d sit in the truck and read a book. The last thing she wanted to do was to leave the safety of her trailer.
The thought made Liv’s fingers stop.
The safety of her trailer. Really?
This was living life on her own terms? Hiding from Matt and camping out in her truck reading a book? That sounded more like avoidance than empowerment.
Was she never going to get it right?
She wasn’t going to hide. She finished Queso’s mane and was on her way to the stands to look for her father when Margo emerged from her trailer. She stumbled coming down the trailer steps, grabbed the handle and caught herself just before she fell. Liv hurried over to her.
“Are you all right?”
Margo pulled a quick breath in through her nose, then raised her face. She’d been crying.
“No. I’m not all right,” she said brusquely.
“Is there anything...” And then it struck her. She’d been talking to Tim. Liv was probably one of the last people she wanted to see. “I can do?” she finished weakly.
“Got a tissue?”
Liv reached into her pocket and pulled out a pink bandana, handing it over to Margo without a word. The older woman took it and dabbed at her eyes, sniffing a little. “Damned allergies,” she said, meeting Liv’s gaze dead on, daring her to contradict her.
Unfortunately for her, Liv was getting used to crossing lines drawn in the sand. “Do you guys still have feelings for each other?”
Margo’s chin snapped up a half inch higher as she wadded the bandana in one hand. “Yes. Your father pisses me off to no end.” She spoke without a hint of apology. Margo shoved the bandana back at Liv, who automatically took it.
“I think he still has feelings for you.”
“Well, bully for him,” Margo said. “Excuse me. I need to check on something.”
Apparently, something in the ladies’ room because that was where she headed.
Liv watched her go.
Damn. Thirty years had passed and her father could still piss off the woman to the point of tears.
* * *
“DID YOU WATCH Matt rope?” Tim asked on the drive home.
“No,” Liv said, keeping her eyes straight ahead. She wasn’t ready to do that yet. “But I heard the crowd.”
“He was pretty damned impressive.”
“He should be,” Liv said coolly. “He’s dedicated his life to the sport.” By his own admission, for years it was the only thing that really mattered to him. “Did you, uh...conduct business?” she asked, deflecting the conversation away from Matt in the most effective way she could think of.
Tim was silent for a moment and then he cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Did it go well?” Liv asked innocently.
“As well as could be expected.” Tim’s knuckles appeared to be turning white on the steering wheel.
“Will you...be conducting more business later?”
Tim inhaled deeply, obviously hating the way the conversation was going. “Maybe.”
Liv shrugged nonchalantly. “Good.”
“Matt’s knee seems to be better,” Tim said. Liv was aware of the muscles in her shoulders tightening at the second mention of Matt’s name.
“Yeah. Painkillers will do that.”
“He wore the brace.”
I don’t give two hoots for what he was wearing—or how well he roped. I don’t want to think about him! But she was having a hell of time not doing that. When she’d left Greg, it had felt totally right, as if she were walking from a poisonous environment into fresh air. S
he was still fighting to get that feeling with Matt.
“Too bad Ryan Madison wasn’t at this rodeo,” Tim continued, determined to talk about Matt, probably to head off mention of Margo. “I would have liked to have seen the two of them go head-to-head.”
Liv was saved from answering by the buzzing of her cell phone. She dug it out of her pocket, grateful for the interruption until she saw the number. What now?
“Hi, Mom,” she said lightly. Tim gave her a quick glance, before fixing his attention back on the road, giving Liv the distinct feeling that he was happy not to be in her shoes at the moment.
“Oh, Liv...” A hiccupping sob followed her name.
“Calm down.” Liv stared down at her lap as the blood started to pound in her temples. She was going to be so happy when this wedding-to-end-all-weddings was over.
“I’m trying, but the stress. You’re the only one I can talk to.”
“I know.” Talking to her husband would be out of the question, because Vivian would not make waves.
“David is talking about taking out a loan now. Once the magazine got involved, well, he’s just determined to really put on a show. In some ways he’s worse than Shae.”
“I’m so sorry, Mom.” Tim glanced her way again and Liv shrugged helplessly at him. For several minutes Vivian unloaded, her words so rushed at times, as if she’d held them in for way too long, that Liv could barely understand her.
“Have you told David you don’t want to take out a loan?” she finally said. “Have you discussed this with him?”
“This wedding is so important to both him and Shae. How could I possibly—”
“Mom, you have a say in this. This is your money, too.” But even as she spoke, she knew that Vivian would never have a much-needed talk with her husband. She just needed to talk now, and Liv was her sounding board. Liv wasn’t supposed to offer ways to solve the problem, she was supposed to give moral support.
So damned hard.
But Liv sucked it up and continued to listen until, finally, her mother had talked herself out, convinced herself that everything was going to be fine if she just let Shae and David have their way.
