Once a Champion

by Jeannie Watt

  She closed the screen door behind her and drew herself up as Matt approached, looking like a cowgirl’s wet dream. Her seventeen-year-old self would have never believed that the guy could have looked hotter than he had back then, but she would have been wrong. Matt was taller, his shoulders broader, and he had a sensuality about him that he hadn’t had back then.

  Looks fade. Integrity lasts.

  As far as she was concerned, Matt had no integrity. He’d shown that when he’d used her to get his grades up and then never spoken to her again, and he’d shown it when he’d misused Beckett.

  Her eyebrows rose slightly as he stopped on the bottom step.

  She very much wanted to say, “No,” before he started speaking, but figured that wouldn’t get her what she wanted—his carcass off her property.

  “I’m sorry about the other day,” he said with rather convincing sincerity.

  “What part?”

  He looked surprised at her comment. “All of it. I mean obviously you had no idea of the truth, and I just kind of sprung it on you.”

  “I know the truth, Matt. The truth is that I bought that horse fair and square. I’ve had him for over a year and I love him.”

  “I happen to be fond of him myself.”

  Yeah? Then why was he in the condition he was in?

  But Liv wasn’t going there. It would only prolong the conversation. “You must have dozens of horses.”

  “Practice horses. I only have one other rodeo horse and he’s not as good as Beckett.”

  “That didn’t seem to slow you down when you won the World.”

  “My times could have been better.”

  “It’s all about the time?” Obviously it was all about time. And him. Not about the horse or his wife.

  “Some of it is about Trena selling my horse behind my back and some of it is that I happen to like that horse—my horse—and I’d like him back.” He spoke calmly, reasonably. The picture of the charming cowboy who’d been done wrong and the fact that he could stand here and pretend he cared about the horse that he’d hurt through lack of care...well, it was all she could do not to walk down the three steps that separated them and smack him a good one. For Beckett.

  Liv folded her arms over her chest. “There’s something you need to understand, Matt. You might be able to charm yourself out of a multitude of situations, but you aren’t charming me. Sometimes, despite charisma and good looks, the answer is no. And that’s what it’s going to stay. No.”

  He bit down on one corner of his lip before saying, “Aren’t you going to threaten me with your father again?”

  “Dad’s busy cutting hay.”

  “About time.”

  “He’s been sick.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” He didn’t sound one bit sorry and he made his lack of sympathy clear when he said, “This isn’t over, Liv. I’ll hire a lawyer.”

  “Andie’s dad already advised me and he said he’ll give me all the help I need to keep Beckett.”

  “He’s my horse.”

  “Not according to the State of Montana.” Liv lifted her chin. “This is the last time we’re having this conversation.”

  “Or?”

  “I’ll call the sheriff and tell him you’re trespassing.”

  “Really.” He said the word flatly, telling her he wasn’t buying in to her bluff—which meant it may not be a bluff much longer. Liv no longer allowed people like him to walk over her.

  “Yes. Really. Now please leave.” Before Beckett steps out from behind that barn.

  Matt’s face became cold and blank. “This isn’t over, Liv.”

  “Yeah, it is. Come back again and I will call the sheriff.”

  Matt turned and walked back to his truck without another word. Liv held her breath until he fired up the engine and swung the truck in Reverse.

  Round two to her. She truly hoped there wouldn’t be a third round.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HE SHOULD HAVE waited longer before talking to Liv, because all he’d succeeded in doing was to put her on the defensive. Again. Now he was worse off than before, and the thing that killed him was that he wasn’t by nature impulsive. He’d simply thought that she’d had time to think about the situation, what was fair, what wasn’t. Liv had always been reasonable—until now.

  Stupid move.

  But, as he’d told her, this wasn’t over.

  When he pulled into his driveway Matt realized that his jaw was aching because his teeth were clamped so tightly together, but he made no effort to relax the taut muscles. Let his jaw ache. Maybe it would distract him from the ever present pain in his knee.

  He parked the truck next to the barn then crossed the driveway to the back door, his knee throbbing with each step. Through the clear glass storm door he could see Craig sitting on the sofa, reading.

  It was so damned strange to come home to someone in the house after so many solitary months. He pulled the storm door open and took all of two steps inside before he slowed to a halt, noting the evenly spaced striations across his very clean carpet.

  “Did you vacuum?”

  Craig looked up from the book. “Yeah. The place needed it.”

  No argument there. The cleaning lady had bailed on him last week and wasn’t due again until next Thursday.

  Matt gave a small shrug. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. The hardest part was finding the vacuum.”

  “Where was it?” Matt asked as he pulled off his hat.

  A look of surprise flitted across the kid’s face. “In the garage.”

  “Ah.” Matt was about to toss the hat onto the nearest table when he noticed that the top had been dusted. The old ropes he’d been collecting in the far corner of the living room were coiled and stacked.

  “I have a cleaning lady,” he said as he crossed to the rarely used hat rack and hooked his ball cap over the spurs hanging there. “She complained about too much stuff in the hall closet, so I told her to put the vacuum wherever she liked. I never asked her where she kept it.”

  “You never use it?”

  “Not if I can help it. I take it you do some of the cleaning at home?”

  A quick shrug. “Someone has to. Mom works. A lot.”

  “You don’t have to do this to earn your keep or anything.”

  “My mom told me to help out where I could.” The kid spoke with a hint of challenge. Okay, he needed to make himself useful. Matt wouldn’t fight him.

  “Well, I appreciate it.” Matt glanced again around his now-tidy living room, then walked down the hall to his room—right across from the extra bedroom. He paused, then nudged open the door. The bed was made, the blankets taut, and all of the kid’s clothing was folded and packed in his suitcase, which lay open against the far wall. Ready for a quick getaway?

  More likely the boy was used to living out of a suitcase.

  Matt rubbed a hand over his forehead. How rough was Willa’s life? He had a suspicion that she was getting no child support, but how bad off was she? Or was he reading more into the packed suitcase than he needed to? Maybe Craig was just a neat freak. The evidence seemed to point that way.

  Matt pulled the door almost shut and went into his own room, where he sat on the bed and took off his brace, wincing as he pulled the Velcro tabs. If anything the joint hurt worse than usual. Not the promising sign he was hoping for.

  Once the brace was off he put on sweatpants and a black T-shirt, then went into the living ro
om, trying to walk normally.

  “Are you okay?” Craig asked.

  “Fine.” So much for walking normally. He sat down in the chair opposite the kid and stretched his knee out. “Hear from your mom?”

  “No.” Craig shut his book, leaving his index finger inside to mark his place. “I tried to text her, but it never delivered. She must not have service there.”

  “I think the area is pretty spotty. When I called her she kept cutting out.”

  “Maybe that’s part of being a pretend cowboy,” Craig said before focusing back on his book. “No cell service.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  For a moment the silence hung heavy between them. Then Craig said in a matter-of-fact voice, “I know it’s weird having me around.”

  “It’s not a problem.” To Matt’s surprise, he meant it. “But I confess that I haven’t had a roommate for a while.”

  The kid’s lips curved up slightly. “And probably weren’t expecting one.”

  “No, I wasn’t. But we’re family.” Matt’s experience with family, with the exception of his mom and Willa, wasn’t stellar, but there was no reason it couldn’t improve a little.

  “Yeah?”

  Matt sensed the need to tread carefully. “Yeah. Of course we are.”

  Craig put his book down. “My mom is doing the best that she can.”

  “I know she is.” Craig seemed to be pretty together, so Willa had to be doing something right. “And I also know that life has a way of throwing curveballs.” He rubbed a hand over his knee. “People have helped me out. I’m happy to help out you and your mom.”

  Craig focused on something behind Matt for a moment, then cleared his throat and said, “I have a feeling that I might need a place to stay for longer than a week.”

  “Your mom said—”

  “I think it’s only fair to tell you that she always says that. She means it, too, but Mom...Mom’s kind of, I don’t know...optimistic?”

  “I don’t care how long you have to stay.” Matt’s gut tightened as he said the words. What was he getting himself into? And what if he needed to get out?

  Craig snorted. “We’ll see.”

  “It doesn’t bother me,” Matt reiterated. Really, what did it matter? So he didn’t have as much privacy as he was used to. Big deal. He had a clean house and someone to talk to. All he had to do now was to find common ground so they could have a conversation. Maybe he’d have to watch that Star Crusher show the kid kept talking about.

  * * *

  “MONTOYA HAS BRASS, I’ll give him that.” Andie checked her cinch before dropping the stirrup back into place. “I can’t believe he gave it another shot.”

  “I’d love to think that he got the message this time,” Liv said, slipping the bit into Beckett’s mouth, “but somehow I don’t think so.” She pulled the headstall up over the horse’s ears and buckled the throatlatch, her fingers clumsy because of nerves. Tonight was her first high-speed practice and she hoped she survived. She’d studied the drill on paper, had practiced alone in the pasture, but felt less than prepared all the same.

  “Then to top off a grand day,” she continued, refusing to let the nerves get to her, “Mom called and we’re all meeting in Missoula this Saturday to look for bridesmaid dresses.” Liv had long known the day was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to face.

  “Shopping with Shae. How fun.”

  “Yes,” Liv said, her voice straining as she tightened the cinch, “I’m so looking forward to it.” She sighed. “It’s not that I hate shopping with Shae or anything. It’s just that I—”

  “Hate Shae. I know.”

  Liv laughed in spite of herself as she dropped the stirrup. “You know I don’t hate Shae. We’ve had a few close moments.”

  “Like when?”

  Liv considered. They had never been enemies—just residents of different planets forced to live as sisters. “Once she needed help with a class.” And Liv had helped her, because she’d known how hard it’d been for Shae to ask. She’d helped Shae, helped Matt. Then they’d dumped her and started dating. No one, not even Andie, knew how much that had hurt.

  At the time, Liv had simply pretended that, after working closely with Matt, she’d come to realize that he didn’t have much substance. “Not crush-worthy” had been her exact words to Andie. She hadn’t mentioned that she’d cried into her pillow the first time Matt and Shae had gone out.

  Wasted time. Wasted tears.

  Even though she could look back and shake her head at what had seemed like the end of the world, she also felt vestiges of anger at being so damned used.

  Shake it off.

  “To be honest,” Liv said, putting a foot in the stirrup and mounting, “I never hated Shae. I was just jealous of her. She seemed so...perfect.” And Liv had felt so far from perfect when they’d lived together. Shae was confident and bossy and on the occasions when she and Liv argued, Liv inevitably backed down—mainly because her mother would insist that she did.

  “Shae is perfect,” Andie said airily. “Just ask her.”

  Liv smiled fleetingly before saying in a flat, adamant voice, “I don’t want to go tomorrow.” What’s more, she didn’t want to go into the arena right now. “I don’t know why I’m even invited. Shae will pick what she wants whether I’m there or not.”

  “Your mother probably insisted.” Andie mounted as she spoke.

  “My mother never insists on anything from anyone except me.”

  “Then your mother manipulated.”

  “That’s probably closer to the truth. Frankly, I wish she hadn’t wasted the effort. Shae’s having a small wedding, but I don’t doubt for one minute that she’s going to bully me into buying the most expensive dress on the rack.”

  “But it will be in impeccable taste.”

  “No doubt. Am I being too much of a bitch?”

  “You’re probably just tired of Shae walking over the top of you.”

  “Could be, could be.”

  Andie laughed as she gathered her reins. “Well, there’s nothing like an evening thundering around an arena to work out your aggressions.”

  The knot in Liv’s stomach, the one she’d been trying to ignore by focusing on the other stresses in her life—Matt, bridal shopping, her father—tightened. “I’ve never done a drill faster than a trot.”

  Andie’s eyebrows went up. “That will not happen often with this crew.”

  “But—”

  “You’ll learn the drills in no time. I did.”

  “You were a barrel racer.”

  She and Andie turned their horses to follow the other riders to the arena gate. Linda called for attention once all twelve riders were there, and then Andie leaned close to say, “You will screw up. Everyone does. If someone yells at you, ignore it.”

  “They’re going to yell at me?” Liv whispered back.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “I didn’t sign on for—”

  “Ladies!” the woman on the buckskin barked. Liv jumped as if she’d been caught talking during a test.

  Get a grip.

  Yes, she could do this. It was just different than what she and Beckett were used to. She’d joined the sedate drill team in Billings as a way to meet other horsewomen and to get Beckett back into the arena in a way that didn’t stress him out. They’d both loved the easy-paced practices and leaving the Billings drill team behind had been one of Liv’s regrets. Those easy practices were obviously a thing o
f the past.

  Andie’s eyes were straight ahead, focused on Linda, but she wore that small I’m-not-taking-this-serious smile that made Liv wish she wasn’t, either. Drilling with this bunch would be a great way for her to learn to lighten up. Make some mistakes.

  Linda described the strategy for the practice, and Liv had little to no idea what she was talking about. “We’ll do the first run-through at a trot to bring Livvy up to speed.”

  Liv send up a silent prayer of thanks and nudged Beckett forward. His ears pricked at the gate, as always, and his eyes rolled a little, but he went in quietly. Linda immediately bellowed at Liv to turn to the left and circle the arena at a fast trot behind Susie, who’d entered just before her. Liv urged Beckett into a trot and did as she was told. Linda continued to yell instructions: follow Andie, pair up with Margo, cut to the center, roll back—roll back? really?—reverse and head to the center. Slide to a stop....

  By the time she finished, the back of her shirt was damp and her jaw was tense...but she’d done okay. A couple more times at a trot and she’d be good to go.

  “Okay, ready to do it at a canter?” Linda asked.

  “No!” Liv ignored the fact that it was a rhetorical question as her survival mechanism kicked in. “Not even close.”

  “You’ll do fine,” Susie said.

  “Define fine,” Liv muttered, turning Beckett to join the rest of the women as they left the arena.

  Liv did not do fine on the next run, but she did survive. Her knee hurt from making a wrong turn and finding herself on a near collision course with Becca. They banged knees as they passed, but at least the horses hadn’t crashed together.