Once a Champion

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Once a Champion Page 19

by Jeannie Watt


  Matt’s expression hardened. “Because I kissed you?”

  “Partly.”

  “And because of McElroy’s knee treatments?”

  “Partly.”

  “And the rest?”

  “The rest is all me.”

  * * *

  SHAE HAD SEEMED oddly subdued during the cake tasting and the lunch that Vivian treated them to afterward, and Liv felt exactly the same way. Quiet. Preoccupied, which made it difficult to focus on her mission of keeping Shae’s spending under control. They decided on the spice cake—Reed having given Shae his blessing to choose without him since he was on a business trip—with buttercream frosting instead of fondant. There would, of course, be tasteful layers and supports and cascading flowers.

  Vivian had noticed Shae’s mood also and suggested, when her stepdaughter had excused herself to take a phone call, that it was prewedding jitters. Liv thought instead that Shae’s mood might be because she couldn’t think of anything else to spend money on now that she’d signed a contract on the most expensive cake in the western part of the state.

  Yes, the wedding was going to be tasteful and beautiful—an event that could be featured as a spread in a magazine, which was probably why it was being covered by a regional publication. A fairy-tale Montana wedding. Oh, joy.

  Shae came back from her phone call beaming. Reed had agreed with the spice cake. She’d been concerned during the tasting, since she’d promised to try to keep the cost to a minimum, but with the magazine spread and all, it was important to have the right cake.

  Vivian beamed back at Shae and reached out to pat her hand. “The spice cake is perfect,” she said.

  Liv also smiled. Perfect cake. Perfect groom. Perfect wedding. Perfect life.

  Must be nice.

  The rest of the day with Shae went well. Now that she and Reed were on the same page cake-wise, she was her old self, which made Liv think that perhaps he was a good match for her if she was concerned with what he thought instead of just riding roughshod over him. Finally, at close to 4:00 p.m. she hugged her mother goodbye, got an air kiss from Shae and started the long drive home.

  Liv pulled into the town of White Hall for gas, thankful that there was no practice that night. She filled the tank, then started to pull out of the station when her phone rang.

  It was a number she didn’t recognize, but she answered anyway. The drill team had a phone tree to inform each other of practice changes and if tomorrow’s practice had been moved, she wanted to know since it affected how long she stayed at work.

  “Liv, it’s Matt.”

  A small surge of adrenaline shot through her. There was something in his tone that put her senses on alert. And for once, not good alert. “Yes?”

  “Are you driving?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Don’t start. Your dad had some kind of attack—”

  Liv heard herself gasp. The sound startled her, since she wasn’t conscious of making any sound at all. “What kind of attack?”

  “I don’t have any details. They won’t give them to me since I’m not family. He called me to take him to the hospital about half an hour ago. I did and now he’s being examined.”

  “Andie—”

  “Is on her way. I can come and get you, Liv, if you tell me where you are.”

  “No!” Liv swallowed, then pulled in a deep breath. “No,” she repeated in a calmer voice. “I can drive. I’m not that far away. White Hall.”

  “You’re sure.”

  “Positive,” she said. “Why didn’t you call sooner?”

  “Tim called and asked me to come over. I had no idea why, then when I got there all I could think about was getting him medical care.”

  Liv’s stomach went into free fall. “Tell me the symptoms he showed.”

  “He, uh...well he was in pain and doubled over. Said his gut hurt. And his arm.”

  “Left?”

  “Right. And he was jaundiced. It was one of the first things the nurse that admitted him keyed into.”

  Then it probably wasn’t a heart attack. “Was he communicating all right?”

  “Yeah. When he wasn’t doubled over.”

  Probably not a stroke. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t cancer or any one of a number of other nasty things. “Thanks, Matt.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No. I just need to stop talking and get on the road.”

  “Drive carefully, Liv. I mean it,” he said sternly.

  “I will. Promise.” She clicked off, then punched in Andie’s number.

  “Liv, I don’t know anything, but I am on my way. Matt called me.”

  “I’m just leaving White Hall.”

  “I’ll let you know as soon as I’m there.”

  “Thanks.” Liv once again clicked the end button and then set the phone on the seat beside her, within easy reach.

  Well, it had happened. Whatever Tim had been silently battling had finally won. Now she knew for certain that he hadn’t been getting better—she only hoped it wasn’t too late. She knew there was nothing she could do, except to trust Andie and whichever doctor was on emergency call.

  That and be thankful that Matt had been available to help.

  Liv swallowed as she felt tears starting to build up.

  Nope. Was not going to cry. She was going to calmly drive to the hospital and if by heaven’s mercy her father recovered, well, she might just have to hurt him for being so damned stubborn.

  Matt’s truck wasn’t in the lot when Liv drove in. She parked in the first spot she found and entered the hospital. Andie came through the emergency room doors just as Liv walked inside, her expression grim. She immediately went to Liv and looped an arm around her, steering her to the plastic chairs in the waiting area. Liv refused to sit.

  “What is it?” she demanded.

  “Acute cholecystitis.”

  “A gallbladder attack?”

  “That’s not the big problem. The real danger is that he’s got a pretty major infection because apparently he’s been muscling his way through the attacks and because of that he’s developed abscesses, which created the infection.”

  “I’ll kill him,” Liv muttered, then put her fingers to her lips when she realized what she’d just said.

  “Yes, you’ll most probably get the chance to do that,” Andie said.

  Liv’s heart knocked against her ribs. “Most probably?”

  “There’s always a risk with surgery. You know that. We have him on Demerol for the pain and intravenous antibiotics. Once his fever goes down, we’ll operate.”

  Now Liv did sit. “When?”

  “Within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. The sooner the better. Dr. Bates will do the surgery.”

  “Can I see him? Dad, I mean?”

  “He’s a bit confused and out of it.” Andie sat down beside her. “You can see him, talk to the doctor, but then you should probably just go home.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll make certain you’re called if there’s any change.”

  “I’ll stay for a while.”

  Andie smiled wearily, touched Liv’s hand. “You’d be better off going home rather than sitting in these chairs until your legs go numb.”

  “I’ll stay.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE DRIVE HOME was lonely and dark, made lonelier by the fact that Liv had no one waiting for her when she got there. Not that long ag
o, when she’d lived in Billings, arriving home to an empty house was a normal occurrence, but not at the ranch. Tim had always been there. Now he wasn’t.

  He’d be back.

  She hoped. While waiting for a chance to see him, she’d done research on her phone about acute cholecystitis, which was usually only life-threatening once infection set in. Good job, Dad. Way to take something treatable and turn it into a crisis.

  Why? Why not just go to a doctor? Get treated. He’d obviously been in pain for a long time.

  As soon as he was no longer loopy from medication she’d get her answer. Because he was in good hands and he was not going to take a turn for the worse. Oh, no, he was not.

  Liv wiped moisture from under her eyes with the back of her hand. Stubborn old—

  An owl swooped from out of nowhere into the headlights, startling her. Heart thumping, she slowed the truck to a crawl, took a deep breath. At least now she knew what was going on with her father and that was a blessing. Better than wondering if he had cancer.

  Liv pulled into the driveway fifteen minutes later and bumped over the cattle guard. Her eyes felt swollen, as if she’d cried rivers, when in actuality she’d only allowed a few tears to spill over before regaining control. Crying wasn’t going to help her. Wanting to throttle her stubborn father wasn’t going to help, either.

  The problem was that nothing felt like it was going to help.

  Time. That would help. As long as her father survived, that is. She needed Tim to get through this operation and on the mend. Then she could relax. Maybe even let herself cry. Right now all she could do was to feed the blasted steers and go to bed. Trust her father to be on death’s door, confused and out of it, and be worried about the cattle.

  She rounded the corner of the barn and then immediately slowed to a stop. Matt’s pickup was parked under the elm.

  She wasn’t ready for this. Not on top of everything else, but she owed Matt a huge debt of gratitude.

  Slowly, she eased her car forward and drove past the barn, where light shone through the windows. She’d barely taken the car out of gear when the door opened and Matt came out, turning off the light before he closed the door behind him.

  Liv got out of her car, and for a moment they faced off. “Thanks for taking Dad to the hospital,” Liv finally said. Inadequate words, but the best she could do right now.

  Matt hooked a thumb in his pocket. “I fed the steers.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You okay?”

  A brief shake of her head. No, she was not okay. She felt angry and inadequate.

  “How’s Tim?”

  “He’s on antibiotics and painkillers. He’s going to have his gallbladder removed and they think he’ll be fine.” Stop there. Let Matt go home. But for some reason she couldn’t. “I didn’t want to leave the hospital, but Andie insisted.” Liv rubbed a hand over her forehead. “I feel so stupid and angry. I should have realized...”

  “You did,” Matt said. “But there was no way you could have strong-armed Tim into going to the hospital.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Yeah, you do. This is Tim Bailey we’re talking about.” He gently took her face in his hands, tilting it up so he could look into her eyes, his expression very serious. “You know that’s true. Right?”

  “Don’t kiss me,” she said.

  He smiled. A real smile with real warmth, not a smile calculated to charm her into doing what he wanted. “Wouldn’t think of it.” But his hands stayed where they were, making her feel connected to him—a connection she didn’t know if she wanted. “But how about I make you some tea or pour you a bourbon or something? Just as a friend? Not someone trying to kiss you.”

  “We don’t have bourbon,” Liv said, remembering when Tim had wanted bourbon after his Margo trauma.

  “I do,” he said. “In the truck.” He dropped his hands as he spoke. Connection broken. Liv felt both relieved and disappointed. The more logical part of her was saying she needed to handle this on her own.

  “That’s disturbing,” she said. “Keeping bourbon in the truck.”

  “Not really. I’d just finished grocery shopping when Tim called. I dropped Craig at the house, but didn’t take time to unload.”

  “Craig. Should he be alone?”

  “He’s fourteen, Liv. I think he’s all right. Probably dusting up a storm, but fine.”

  “Dusting...?”

  “I’ll explain later. Tea? Bourbon?”

  Since he was giving her the choice and not forcing the issue, Liv said, “Both.”

  “Atta girl.”

  Liv went into the house ahead of him, snapping on lights then automatically picking up the crossword puzzle book and pencil that lay on the floor next to Tim’s chair. Was that what he’d been doing when he’d had the attack?

  She went into the kitchen to put on the kettle. Matt came into the house and then followed her over to the sink. He took the kettle from her hand. “I’m making the tea.”

  “I need to move.”

  “Fine. You make the tea, I’ll pour the shots.”

  Liv looked over her shoulder, startled. “I thought I’d have the bourbon in the tea.”

  “A shot before and a shot in the tea.”

  Liv let out a breath. “Sounds good.” And it did. She needed something warm inside of her, something to dim the jangling thoughts bumping up against one another in her head.

  Matt had no trouble finding shot glasses. He set down a large one that read What Happens in Vegas... next to a smaller one with a smiley face on it.

  “Nice barware,” he said, making Liv feel the inane urge to laugh.

  “Only the best.”

  He poured the bourbon, waiting to hand Liv her glass until after she’d turned the kettle on. Then he lightly touched her glass with his and said, “To Tim’s speedy recovery.”

  The corners of Liv’s mouth quivered oh so slightly before she nodded and sipped, and Matt, she could see, had noticed, so she worked up a weak smile. Then she sat in her usual spot at the table and Matt unknowingly sat in Tim’s. It seemed odd. Wrong. But she was glad he was there. Maybe a little too glad.

  Be careful...

  Liv took another sip, studying Matt as he in turn studied the glass in his hand as if trying to think of something to say. Under the circumstances it probably wasn’t right for her to notice that he was one hell of a specimen of manhood, from his black hair down to his scuffed-up boots, so she shoved the thought out of her mind. Although dwelling on gut-wrenching concerns about her father didn’t seem like a great alternative.

  The kettle whistled, making her jump. She automatically pulled two mugs out of the cupboard when Matt said, “None for me. I’m driving.”

  She shook her head, amused in spite of herself, then dropped a tea bag into her mug and poured the water. When she sat at the table again, Matt uncorked the bottle and poured a glug of amber liquid into the brewing tea.

  And then again they sat. In silence. And again, even though she didn’t have much to say, Liv was glad he was there. For the moment. Soon she’d have to ask him to leave. Thank him and tell him she needed to be alone—even though she did not want to be alone.

  She sipped the tea, the hot water and bourbon warming her in a way that the bourbon alone hadn’t.

  When she was half-done, she reached back and pulled the elastic out of her hair, running her fingers through the strands before letting them fall over her shoulders. A
n evening ritual. Come home, let her hair down. Literally.

  “I always wanted to touch your hair when we were studying.”

  Liv met Matt’s eyes, startled at his out-of-the-blue revelation. “You did not.”

  “Yeah, I did.” He turned the almost empty shot glass in his fingers. “It was so shiny and smooth and I liked the way it fell down your back.”

  Okay. Liv took a minute to digest that bit of new information. He’d liked her hair. He’d dated Shae.

  “But nice hair or not, you never really thought of me as a—” she shrugged “—possibility...did you?”

  “I might have, had I gotten a hint,” he said. “You were really, really closed off.” He finished the shot, then set the empty glass on the table.

  “Maybe I was waiting for you to scale my ivory tower.”

  “‘Scale your ivory tower’?” Matt frowned slightly as he reached out and picked up the bourbon bottle, tilting it to check its level before he looked at her shot glass.

  “No, honestly, I was waiting for you to make a move.”

  “Uh...”

  Liv put her palms on the table on either side of her tea mug and leaned forward. “Would a hint really have mattered? Would the hot cowboy jock have dated the geek?”

  Matt’s mouth twisted sideways as he considered her question. “I thought you were pretty, but like I said, you were so contained...”

  “As in afraid to put myself out there for fear of being rejected.”

  “Really?”

  Liv made a face. “Yes,” she said in a “duh” voice. Had Matt ever experienced the sting of rejection? Feared it as she had? “When you left after every session, I’d analyze everything we said and look for hints of how things were going...between us. I guess I never thought, until recently, just how subtle I probably was. I just expected you to know and to do something about it.”

  Liv’s cell rang and she jerked at the sound, felt the blood drain out of her face, leaving her lips feeling number. Andie.

  “Yes,” she said as soon as the phone was to her ear. “How is he?”

 

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