Once a Champion
Page 11
In this particular article Ryan expressed his sincere concern for Matt—that it didn’t seem fair to compete against Montoya when he was less than one hundred percent—especially after him not making it to the finals last year.
“How are you going to feel when I beat you and I’m not one hundred percent?” Matt muttered under his breath. He leaned closer to see the bottom part of the page, then barely suppressed a curse when he read the quote toward the end of the article, an answer to a question about opposing philosophies. “Matt’s a champion,” Ryan was quoted as saying, “but he’s hard on himself, hard on his horses. My approach is more laid-back. I think that’s why I’m in better shape physically.”
Hard on his horses?
How far had Liv’s story spread?
Matt straightened up and automatically reached for the beer.
It may not have spread at all. Ryan may have been making a point. But still... It behooved him to find out just what Liv had been saying and, if she’d done damage to his reputation, then she was damned well going to figure out some way to undo it.
And he had to figure out the best way to approach this matter, since the Liv he’d once known was not the Liv he was dealing with now.
* * *
“SEE YOU TOMORROW,” Etta Sinclair, the clinic receptionist and one of Liv’s former classmates, called as Liv let herself out the side door, tote bag full of files in one hand and her keys in the other.
“See you,” Liv called back as the door shut behind her. It’d been a long, trying day, as first days often were. She’d worked with seven patients, had follow up appointments for all of them later that week and consulted with three more. Andie had already referred her two more cases that day that she would see tomorrow.
She was almost to her car, ready to go home and saddle up Beckett for a short mind-clearing ride before cooking dinner, when someone called her name from behind.
She turned to find Matt walking toward her from his truck, parked in the side lot.
What now? Was he going to accuse her of abuse again? Make another offer for the horse? Just generally make her crazy?
Did he not know better than to tangle with a woman after a very long first day of work? She waited where she stood, although she would have preferred to get into her car and leave.
“Liv,” he said after he’d stopped a few feet away, but not so far away that she couldn’t see the color of his eyes. If anything, remembering how mesmerizing she used to find them during their study sessions strengthened her.
“Matt.” And then she waited for whatever was coming next.
“I owe you an apology.”
Not what she’d been expecting. Not even close. Liv took care not to let her surprise show. Or her suspicion. Instead, she simply raised her eyebrows. An apology. Hmm.
“And you owe me one.”
“Excuse me?” she said, her eyebrows rising even higher. “Why do I owe you an apology?”
“For telling people I abused a horse.” Liv clicked the keys to unlock her car door. She didn’t need this. “Who’d you tell?” Matt asked.
“Andie and my father.”
“And who did Andie tell?”
“I have no idea who Andie told. Maybe you should be more concerned about who Trena told. She’s the one who had it in for you.”
Which made her wonder what kind of guy Matt was to live with. The Trena she’d bought the horse from was not the Trena she’d been in awe of in high school. The woman was still beautiful, maybe even more beautiful, but she’d also been withdrawn and sullen. Not a woman happy in her marriage.
And the reason for that was standing right there in front of her, looking sexy as hell. Shae had once said that Matt wore sexy the way other guys wore clothes and Liv hated that she had to agree with that assessment. What a waste.
“I don’t know where Trena is, but I know where you are.”
“I didn’t try to destroy your reputation, Matt. I have no reason to do that. I bought a horse that had obviously been used roughly. Tell me who you would have thought was responsible, given the circumstances.”
She could see from the way he shifted his weight that he not only understood her point, but he’d also probably come to the same conclusion himself.
“Will you do me the courtesy of telling Andie and your father that you were wrong?”
Liv almost said that she didn’t know that she was wrong, but something in his expression stopped her.
“I don’t know who Trena lent Beckett to,” he said seriously, “but she lent him to someone who used him hard, then she sold him to get rid of the evidence before I got home.”
Liv listened to excuses all day long. And lies. People pretending that they’d done their exercises when she knew that they hadn’t. She was pretty good at reading the signs...and she didn’t read anything in Matt’s face except harsh sincerity. And it made her feel uncomfortable. As if she’d done something wrong.
“Maybe that’s so,” she finally said. “I have no way of knowing.”
“I’m telling you I didn’t abuse the horse...and back in high school I didn’t mean to behave in a way that made you feel like you’d been used.”
The unexpected shift in topic brought heat to her cheeks, which irritated her.
“That’s what you’re sorry for?” She’d forgotten he’d started out saying that he owed her an apology.
“It’s a crime I actually did commit.”
“Not exactly a crime,” Liv said. She adjusted her shoulder bag, keeping a hand on the strap. “Just unrealistic expectations on my part.”
He didn’t deny it, which she hated to say, stung a little. Instead, he looked her up and down with half-hooded eyes, eyes that made her wonder just how good he was in bed. No one should have this much sex appeal.
“I need to go, Matt.”
“I am sorry.”
“Yeah.” Liv swallowed. “Me, too—but I’m not ready to apologize about the horse thing, because I still don’t know what happened there.”
“What do I have to do to convince you?” he asked.
“Nothing, Matt. Nothing at all. Just leave me and Beckett alone and I’ll tell Andie and my dad that you didn’t hurt the horse.” She turned and started walking to her car. “I’ll tell them to spread the news,” she muttered.
Right now, it didn’t matter if he hurt the horse because he was never getting him back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LIV WENT STRAIGHT to the barn when she got home. Beckett often spent the afternoons in his stall, avoiding the heat, before venturing out to the pasture again in the early evening. The fence still wasn’t fixed properly, but thankfully he hadn’t shown any inclination to wander to the neighbors’ again. Liv had done what she could after the tractor broke down and told Tim she was satisfied with the job, even though she wasn’t. There was still time to do it right before winter.
“Totally spoiled,” Liv said as the horse nosed for treats.
“I’ll be back,” she said. “So don’t go rolling in the dirt or anything.” She patted his neck and then headed back to the house, where Tim was waiting on the porch.
She gave her father a once-over as she approached, thinking he looked as peaked as ever, despite his assertion that he was feeling so-o-o much better. Right. Every time she looked at her father her stomach made a knot.
“Hey, Dad,” she said as she mounted the steps, doing her best to hide her concern.
“Home late.”
Tim merely grunted a reply and held the screen door open for her. Liv went straight to her bedroom, where she took off her shoes and started changing into her riding clothes. She figured she had time to make the loop around the fields and be home in plenty of time to put dinner on the table.
Tim was off the tractor early and the fields were full of bales waiting to be loaded into the retriever, but he had a set schedule and he stuck to it. Dinner at six. Liv was happy to oblige because it gave her some time to deal with the Matt situation, get a few things straight in her mind.
Bend Beckett’s ear a little.
Her boots clunked across the hardwood floor as she headed for the front door. Tim looked up from his paper. “Just going for a short ride,” she said. “I’ll be back in time to make dinner, so don’t do anything.”
Tim let out an eloquent sigh and went back to reading.
* * *
FOR ONE GLORIOUS hour Liv managed to avoid thinking about Matt or her father—for the most part anyway—focusing instead on Beckett, the feel of his solid body beneath her, the wind blowing back the hair that had escaped from her ponytail, the feeling of total freedom she always got when she rode. It was as if Beckett’s strength flowed into her through some magical connection that she was too logical to believe in but felt all the same. Once her feet were back on the ground, the mystical power evaporated and thoughts of Matt began crowding in.
Liv resolutely shook them off. She’d handled Greg—which had not been easy, because Greg could be damned persuasive when he put his mind to it—and now she’d handle Matt. At least he wasn’t trying to buy her off with flowers and jewelry. Yet. Right now she was more concerned about dealing with Tim. Last night he’d looked like he was ready to keel over when he’d come in off the tractor and tonight he’d looked no better.
He wasn’t in his chair when she walked into the living room, but he hadn’t cooked dinner, either, so they were making some progress. She slapped together a meal of frozen ravioli and canned sauce.
He wandered into the kitchen from the direction of his bedroom at six o’clock sharp, took a chair without meeting her eyes.
“Not very fancy,” she said as she set the pot on the table. “I need to start planning a little more in advance, I think.”
Tim merely nodded and filled his plate.
They ate in silence. Tim was no talker, but usually they exchanged a few remarks during dinner—or they used to before Tim had started clamming up about whatever was making him feel so bad.
Liv pushed her food around her plate, having no appetite herself, and finally gave up and scraped most of what she had taken into the trash.
“What’s wrong?” Tim asked.
Liv frowned over her shoulder at him, then opened the dishwasher and started unloading it. She’d only put two plates in the cupboard when he said, “Well, something’s wrong,” before setting his fork down on his still half-full plate. Between the two of them, they’d barely eaten a single serving.
Liv stopped putting away the dishes and turned to face him, one hand propped on her hip. “And if it is?”
“I’m just wondering if that guy is bothering you again.”
“Matt?” Liv asked, wondering who had seen them wrangling in the parking lot and reported back to Tim.
“No. The other guy. The one you were engaged to.”
“Greg?”
“Yeah.”
“I haven’t heard from Greg in two months.”
“But he was harassing you.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m not stupid, Liv. After you broke the engagement, you changed. You got more, I don’t know, stressed.”
“And from that you knew he was harassing me?”
“I wondered.” Tim took his plate to the trash and scraped out most of the ravioli. “You just confirmed my suspicions. You should have told me about him.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, setting a plate in the rack with exaggerated control. “Just like you’ve been so open with me.”
“There’s nothing I haven’t told you that you need to know.”
“I guess I can say the same.”
She wondered if her father knew how much his appearance had changed just over the past few months, how his face was pinched with pain, his shoulders slightly stooped. “Do you have cancer?” she asked, tired of playing nice.
Genuine shock registered on his face. “Cancer?”
“You don’t know, do you?”
His mouth went tight.
“Because you won’t go to a doctor.”
“I don’t have cancer.”
Liv gave him a tired look. “Why don’t we make sure?”
“I have a stomach problem. I’ve had one for my entire life. It wasn’t cancer when I last saw a doctor, and it isn’t cancer now.”
“Maybe it’s an ulcer. Those are treatable.”
“I will go to the doctor when I feel like I need to. Right now I’m fine. I had a few bad weeks and maybe I should have seen someone, but I’m on the mend and I don’t need help making decisions as to my health care.”
The conversation was going exactly as she’d known it would, making her feel like she should just beat her head on the counter rather than try to talk to him. It would be just as effective.
But getting angry with Tim wasn’t going to help. He would only clam up more.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Tim came into the kitchen where Liv was sitting at the table, eating a bowl of cereal before going to work. Usually he was out on the tractor by this time, but today, for some reason, he was still in the house. Could it be that he was ready to talk? That he’d come to his senses last night and realized that she was right?
Apparently not. He poured cereal and sat at the table in his usual place. The two of them ate without speaking, the noise of their spoons in the bowls ridiculously loud in the stony silence. Finally, Tim dropped his spoon into his bowl, but instead of saying, “You’re right, I need to seek medical advice,” he said, “Are you ready for your first drill performance?”
Liv snorted—both because her dad was so freaking stubborn and because she was not ready for the first performance. “Not even close. My stomach hurts just thinking about it. I’m going down to the arena to practice with a couple of my teammates on Saturday.”
“Andie?”
“No. Becca and Margo.”
Tim’s eyes came up slowly. Ah. “You might know Margo.”
“I only know one Margo. Margo Beloit.”
“That’s the one. Nice lady.”
Tim gave a quick nod, then got to his feet and carried his dish to the sink. Conversation over, and Liv was done pushing for the day.
She was almost to her bedroom when she heard her cell phone ringing. Her mother’s ring. Quickly, she went into her room and snagged the phone out of her bag, wondering what kind of wedding induced emergency she was about to contend with.
Please, not more shopping. “Hi, Mom.”
“Liv. Thank goodness you’re there.”
“Did you call before?”
“Three times.”
Liv sat on her bed and started prying the boots off her feet. “I left my phone in my bedroom during breakfast.” Because she was still breaking the habit of being available to everyone whenever they needed her.
“It’s Shae,�
� her mother said. “This wedding is getting out of hand.”
“Are you surprised?”
“David wants it perfect for her.” And so, of course, that’s what Vivian wanted, too. Liv was surprised that Vivian was actually voicing concern instead of silently bearing the stress, as she always did when her own needs conflicted with her husband’s.
“How’s it getting out of hand, Mom?” Liv asked gently.
“We can’t afford it,” her mother instantly replied.
“I thought that Reed and Shae were footing the bill.”
“So did I, but David will have none of it. It’s a matter of pride, I think, but he’s determined to pay for this wedding. And Shae is determined to make it a splashy affair.”
“What happened to the small wedding idea?” Liv was truly curious about that. “Did Reed finally agree to give Shae carte blanche?”
“He must have, because Shae’s motto seems to be full speed ahead, take no prisoners.”
Liv laughed. Rarely did her mother say what she was really thinking.
“So talk to her.”
“David won’t let me.”
“Excuse me?”
“He said that I am to keep my concerns to myself. But it’s hard when it’s eating into our retirement.”
“Mom, you can’t let that happen.”
“What choice do I have?”
Vivian didn’t want a solution. She just wanted some empathy. And Liv wasn’t feeling empathetic, because doing what David wanted was going to hurt her mother financially, and give her an ulcer worrying about the matter when she could be doing something to fix it.
“Mom...you’re a partner in this relationship, you know. You can tell David your feelings.”
“I have. He said he was paying for the wedding.” Her mother hesitated briefly before saying, “There’s nothing I can do. I probably shouldn’t have called, but I thought that maybe, when Shae is planning, if you could suggest some lower budget ideas...”