by Jeannie Watt
Matt glanced over at the arena, then back at Liv. “Can we talk after the roping? Can you hang around that long?”
Liv nodded. “I can do that.” Because she wanted to talk to Matt and get things back the way they’d been before she’d made her error.
Matt smiled and Liv’s stomach did a bit of a free fall as he said, “I missed you, too, Liv.” A simple statement that held a wealth of meaning, as in, he accepted her apology.
Without thinking, she reached up to touch his stubbled cheek. He caught her hand, kissed the palm, making her breath catch as she thought once again of tack rooms, and then Beckett gave her a nudge from behind, knocking her forward half a step. Matt laughed and reached out to pat Beckett’s neck.
“How’s the drill horse?” he asked.
“Good.” A lot less tense than she was at the moment.
“I miss him, too,” Matt said matter-of-factly, sliding a hand under the horse’s mane. “But...you know.”
Liv did know. He hadn’t asked to buy the horse back since his second failed attempt. He had other horses and seemed satisfied to use them. Maybe the only reason he’d been so driven to get Beckett back had been because of Trena. The woman had not played fair, but Matt seemed to be moving on.
Beckett bobbed his head and leaned into Matt’s hand as he stroked the horse’s neck.
“Someday you’ll have to let me take him out. For old time’s sake.”
“Go ahead,” Liv said.
Matt shot her a startled look.
“Get on him,” she said.
Matt grinned widely. It took him less than a minute to change the stirrup length and mount. Her saddle was slightly too small for him, but Matt didn’t seem to care. It was a roping saddle and that was all he needed.
He lifted the reins and Beckett’s head came up. Liv watched the change in her horse with both amazement and a twist of jealousy. Beckett was alert, ready to go, an expression of equine anticipation in his amber eyes. The damned horse was practically smiling.
“One calf?”
Liv shrugged, her gut tightening. “Sure.”
Matt rode toward the arena gate and Liv followed, stopping close to where Margo was seated on the end of the bleachers. She smiled coolly at the woman who was making her father crazy, and then tried to find Matt and Beckett.
“He once owned the horse?” Margo asked. It was the first time the woman had spoken to her, other than a quick word during practice, since Tim had come out of the hospital.
“Yeah.”
“You can tell.”
Damn it, she could. They hadn’t been together in almost two years and man and animal were in total sync.
“I’d hate to lose him,” Liv said more to herself than to Margo.
“There’s nothing saying you have to.”
“I kind of got him in an underhanded deal.”
“I know.” Liv shot Margo a glance and the older woman said, “People talk.”
That’s right. They did. And now she was going to talk, or rather ask a question. “What happened with you and my father?”
Margo’s expression didn’t change. She’d been expecting the question. “A lot of stuff a long time ago.”
“Must have been some incredible stuff if you paid his hospital bill.” Liv lifted her chin as Matt and Beckett came into the arena through the small gate on the opposite end, half wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.
“That’s between Tim and me,” Margo said.
Liv kept her eye on the arena. It was between Margo and Tim. She may never know what their relationship was, but she wished that whatever it was, that they either buried it or dealt with it because she’d never seen her father like this in her life.
Matt maneuvered Beckett into position next to the chute. He nodded and the calf came charging out. A second later, Beckett went after him, switching his tail as he thundered after the animal. Her horse was fast.
Matt swung a loop and it settled over the calf’s head, then he released the rope and the calf continued on his way around the arena, the rope trailing after him.
She could see Matt’s triumphant smile from where she stood. He must have roped the beast in three flat and she had to give him bonus points for not throwing the calf, knowing how she felt about his knees. The calf ran to the chute and the guy keeping the gate snagged the loop off its head. Matt rode up, took the rope and coiled it as he and Beckett headed to the gate.
“Some team,” Margo said.
Liv couldn’t bring herself to answer. Beckett had loved every second of that run, in a way that he didn’t love doing drill work.
“Matt shouldn’t be roping,” she said.
“Honey, what a man should do and what he does do are very different things sometimes.”
Liv didn’t need to be hit over to the head in order to know that Margo was talking about her father. And she really wanted to know what Tim hadn’t done that was keeping him awake at night.
Matt was still smiling when he rode Beckett back up to Liv’s trailer. “I don’t imagine you watched.”
“I did,” she admitted.
Matt dismounted and handed the reins to Liv. “Finally.”
Matt ran a hand over Beckett’s neck. “You did good for having no practice,” he said to the horse.
Liv cleared her throat. “And you two did well together—just like you said.” She pulled in a breath, then realized that after stating the obvious, she had nothing else to say. He put a hand on the back of her neck, his fingers caressing over the smooth skin beneath her ponytail.
“You don’t need to sound so sad. I’m not going to steal him.”
The thought of letting Beckett go made her gut twist...as did the memory of how excited the horse had been to charge after that calf. That was what he’d been bred to do and he loved it. As did the guy who’d been riding him.
Beckett belonged to Matt. He really did.
I can’t let him go.
She wanted very much to say the words out loud, but instead she smiled at Matt. “I’d send the sheriff after you if you did.”
Matt took a step closer, sending her senses into high alert. “It’d work better if you...came yourself.”
Liv’s pulse jumped and she leaned toward him, maybe just so she could draw his scent into her lungs, maybe just because he did crazy things to her hormones.
“Any chance you could stop by later tonight?” Matt asked.
Liv’s heart stuttered even as she calmly met his eyes. “With or without my horse?”
“It’s not roping I’m interested in.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
He kissed her, right there, in front of anyone who cared to see. And Liv didn’t step back. She met his kiss, answered with one of her own. Quicker and less lingering than his, but a kiss all the same.
So now she was kissing him in public, but calling him a friend. There was something off about that, just as Matt had said. Something that she was going to have to think about.
And think she did—not that it got her anywhere.
She enjoyed being with Matt, enjoyed being in his bed. Enjoyed everything about her time with him except for the gnawing fear that she would get herself in over her head and lose control. She was so damned afraid of losing control...every relationship in her life, except for maybe that with her mother, had consisted of Liv eventually giving in to keep a peaceful status quo. No, she even did that with her mother—just look at the things she did to keep Shae happy—but she did those out of lo
ve and understanding. To keep her fragile mother happy...
But was that so different from what she was afraid of doing with Matt?
As long as they continued as they were, she told herself over and over again, she was safe. She wasn’t going to lose herself. And in those moments when she found the old Liv wishing that she could have more of a committed relationship with Matt, the new Liv sternly reminded the old Liv of just what her life had been like in every other committed relationship she’d ever had.
Which made it all the more difficult, and threatening, when she sometimes wondered if she were actually falling for Matt.
Even if she did...well...she wouldn’t.
But what if...
Damn, but Matt Montoya scared her.
She laid a hand on Beckett’s neck. “You brought us together, big guy. Now...would you mind telling me what to do?”
* * *
MOST OF MATT’S days were spent practicing. He roped, he tied, he threw. His knee was getting stronger, not weaker, as all the naysayers had predicted. He and Snigs were developing their rhythm and overall he felt confident about his comeback.
And when Liv was with him, his world felt complete, as sappy as that seemed. But it was true and Matt thought that maybe she was feeling the same. They didn’t talk about limitations and rules and parameters anymore—or at least they hadn’t during the past three weeks. Liv came over as often as she could and they’d spend the evenings horseback riding or cooking or sometimes playing one of the video games Craig had left that they were both really bad at. A couple of times she’d brought Beckett by on her way home from practice and had let him ride his old buddy. It gnawed at him to do so, but he knew she thought she was doing him a favor.
In some ways the past weeks had been the most peaceful and fulfilling in Matt’s life. And in others the most frustrating—because he didn’t know where he stood with Liv. Didn’t know if things were only shifting on his side. What really bothered him was that he was afraid to bring up the topic, afraid of upsetting the balance. And because of that he was getting antsy.
He wanted reassurance that he wasn’t alone in the feeling that they were developing something special. He was more than willing to go slowly, for Liv’s peace of mind, but he wanted to make sure they were on the same page.
“Don’t rush” became his mantra, but being the guy he was, of course he screwed it up.
One Thursday night, after Liv had stopped by after drill practice and put him through a few paces of her own, he opened his mouth and risked turning his world upside down.
“We do well together,” he said as he pulled her up against him, running a hand over her hair and letting his fingers tangle loosely in the reddish-brown strands.
“I’d say there’s some chemistry,” she agreed.
“Chemistry is important. Look at me and Beckett. We’ve had chemistry since day one.”
“I can see that,” Liv said.
“Don’t worry, Livvy. I’m not asking to have Beckett back.”
“Then what do you want?”
He casually stroked his hand down the side of her face. “I want you to give us a chance.”
“By chance you mean...” He made a slow you-know gesture with one hand. “Damn, Matt.” She put some space between them, gathering the sheet up to her neck with both hands. “I made myself clear on that point from the beginning. You can’t ask for change now.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because we agreed.”
“We agreed according to the way things were then. Whether you will admit it or not, things have changed.”
“For you, maybe.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Believe it,” she said, scrambling out of bed and searching for her clothes on the floor. She pulled up a pair of jeans—his—and dropped them before going for the pair underneath it.
“Liv!”
Something in his tone made her stop, her jeans clutched in one hand.
“There is something very wrong here.”
“Yes. I agree.” She went for her shirt.
“With you.”
That got her attention. “There is nothing wrong with me.”
“Yeah. There is. Why are you denying you feel anything for me?”
“I’m not admitting or denying. The way I feel is my own business. I’m just telling you that I do not want a relationship.”
“Like it or not, you have one.”
“Not anymore.”
“Meaning?”
“What does it sound like I mean?” She pulled her pants up and buttoned the waistband, then jammed her arms into her shirt without bothering with her bra. Once covered, she reached down for her socks and underwear, holding them loosely in one hand as she spoke as clearly as she possibly could, so he would make no mistake in her meaning.
“I mean that this—” she pointed to first him then back to herself “—is no more.”
“Liv...” His voice was a low rumble, but she ignored what it did to her.
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t fight you. I won’t fight you.”
“I’m not fighting with you! I’m trying to clue you into reality.”
“Okay. Let’s talk reality. In all my relationships, I’ve been the giver. The one that bends, the one that changes. It’s not healthy, but I will keep doing it. Even though I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t.”
“I don’t intend to.”
It took a moment for her meaning to sink in. He was about tell her that he wasn’t interested in a relationship with someone who always bent, when she said, “Take Beckett.”
“What?”
“Take Beckett and then there’s no more reason for us to share anything. You’ll have what you wanted from the beginning and I’ll have—”
“What, Liv? What will you have?”
“Peace of mind,” she said fiercely.
“I am not some jerk who’ll take over your life.”
“That’s not a chance I’m ready to take.”
* * *
LESS THAN THREE minutes later, Liv numbly stepped out into a windy July night. The moon was full, bathing her truck in a yellowish light.
You’re fine. You did the right thing.
Of course, she had.
You gave away your horse....
As if Beckett had ever truly been hers. She loved him, but he was Matt’s. The ties between her and Matt were now severed. Matt had told her he wasn’t taking the horse without paying for him. Liv had told him that was fine. She’d take the money; he could take Beckett. It would have been difficult to ride Beckett now anyway, because he would remind her too much of Matt.
Matt, who should never have lost the horse in the first place. If she hadn’t bought him from Trena, none of this would have happened. She wouldn’t now be turned inside out over a man who was ignoring the ground rules, trying to get her to agree to something she’d told him from the beginning she wouldn’t agree to. Just as Allen had done. Just as Greg had done.
Only this was worse, because, unlike with the other men in her life, she’d laid everything out to Matt from day one, told him how far she was willing to go, and he’d still tried to push her into a corner.
* * *
“MATT PICKED UP your horse this afternoon,” Tim said as soon as Liv walked in the door after work. “And left a healthy check.”
“Let me see that,” Liv said, striding across the room. She
coughed when she saw the amount—about five times what she’d paid for Beckett. “Great. Just great,” she muttered, dropping the mail on the end table next to her father so he could go through it. Now she’d have to hammer this out with Matt.
“I don’t understand one thing about this,” Tim said. “You broke up with the guy. Why does he get the horse?”
“Because he should have always had him,” Liv said wearily. Her father did not look as if he were buying her statement, but went back to reading his paper, his expression morose.
Liv was having an increasingly hard time being around her father while he was in this funk, induced no doubt by both his illness and Margo.
Figuring he couldn’t feel any worse than he did now, and desperately needing to distract herself from Matt and this check, Liv fired out the question that she’d been holding back for so long.
“What happened with you and Margo?”
“There was a time you didn’t ask questions like that,” Tim said irritably.
“I’ve changed.” Which was why Matt was out of the picture. So that she could maintain her changes without being tempted to fall back into her old patterns.
“What’s to tell?” he said with a shrug.
“Were you involved when my mom was in the picture?”
“Who said we were involved at all?”
“Give me a break, Dad. It’s obvious that something happened between you.” He sent her a baleful look, which she ignored, feeling very much like she was dealing with one of her patients. She had to help them learn to deal with pain in order to get better. Maybe it was time for Tim to do the same.
“Before.”
“So...thirty years ago?”
“Thirty-two. She helped me build this house.”
Liv looked around the room. “This house.” She pointed at the floor with her index finger.
“The same. She drew up the plans.”
“Wow.” Liv sat in the chair opposite her father. “What happened?”
Tim made a helpless gesture. “I did, I guess. Margo never kowtowed to me. We saw eye-to-eye on most everything, except for one thing. Money. She had it. I didn’t.”