by Jeannie Watt
“Thanks for listening, Liv.” Vivian sounded tired, a bit self-conscious and relieved. “I hope you’re doing well. I didn’t even ask.”
“I’m fine, Mom.” I’m not all that directly involved with Bridezilla and her father. “I love you and I’ll talk to you soon.” Liv pocketed the phone.
“Everything okay?” Tim asked.
“Why won’t she just grow a backbone,” Liv muttered as she leaned her head back against the headrest.
“Because in this life there are givers and takers, Liv. Your mom is a giver.” Liv gave her father a frowning look. Sometimes Tim surprised her and he continued to do so by expounding on the matter. “With me she gave and gave and gave, to the point that it made me uncomfortable.”
“You felt like your dad?” The guy that Tim said had dedicated his life to taking and giving nothing in return.
He gave her a curious look. “I never thought about it, but yeah, maybe I did. Anyway, I don’t think there’s any way your mom is going to grow a backbone at this point in her life. You’re just going to have to deal with it.” He gave a small snort. “The way I probably should have and didn’t.”
“What happened with you and Margo? Today?” Liv blurted the question out. It was none of her business, but...maybe it was.
Tim exhaled. “We hashed a few things out.” He tightened the corner of his mouth before going on to say, “I planned to present her with a payment plan for the hospital bill, but...it got personal.”
Liv had noticed. Personal to the point of making Margo cry. “Dad...is there any chance that you and Margo could maybe forge a new path?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you...going to look into it?”
“I don’t know.”
From the tone of his voice it was obvious that sharing time was over. Apparently, both she and her father sucked at relationships. She did because she was afraid she wouldn’t stand up for herself and he did because he adamantly stood up for what he believed. He wasn’t a taker. Nor was he a giver.
And maybe that was the problem.
* * *
MATT CELEBRATED THE first victory in his comeback with a night out on the town in Dillon. Etta was there, as were Wes, Pete, Jed and Corrie.
“You were awesome,” Wes said, the sarcasm in his deep voice masking a sincere compliment. Wes was never one to get too mushy.
“Yeah. Awesome,” Matt replied, lifting his beer. Awesome or not, Ryan had clocked a better time in the rodeo he’d competed in on the opposite end of the state. Matt knew that because Craig had texted him the times and told him to practice more. He’d also told him that his mom was trying to get a day off so they could come to one of Matt’s rodeos. Apparently, Willa was quite pleased with her son’s newfound love of roping—although the dude ranch dogs weren’t of the same mind, since they were occasionally the chosen target.
Etta put her hand on his leg and he realized he’d probably have to set things straight with her and get himself wished back to hell again. Right now he was not up for more female entanglements. Maybe in a week or two, when he got his head on straight again.
The only problem was, it didn’t seem to be straightening out as fast as usual. Even Trena, who’d brought a lot of trauma into his life, hadn’t screwed up his head in this particular way.
He’d wanted something that he couldn’t have. He’d deluded himself into thinking that given some time Liv could give it. But she couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. Didn’t matter which.
Two beers in—diet sodas for Wes and Corrie—and Jed announced that they had to get the sitter home. Etta, Pete and Matt had one more beer, then Pete called it quits and Matt walked Etta out to her car.
He took her keys, opened the door, then turned around to find himself wearing her.
And he’d be a liar if he said it didn’t feel good.
But it also didn’t feel right.
He finally untangled himself, took her hands firmly in his so that they didn’t go back on their seek-and-destroy mission.
“Matt?” she asked, her eyes wide and yet somehow seductive as hell.
“Can’t.”
She squeezed his fingers. “Why?”
“Not a good time for doing this.”
She pulled her hands out of his, frowning. “Someone else?”
“Just me.”
She snorted. “I don’t think I believe you.”
“Why?” he asked, putting a hand on the open door frame.
“Don’t play stupid, Matt.” She brushed past him to get into the car. “You know why.”
She didn’t smile as she closed the door and when she started the car, Matt stepped back so as not to get his foot run over. Maybe he did know why, but that didn’t mean he wanted to discuss it with Etta. And he didn’t want to complicate his life any more by sleeping with her.
But he could have been a bit more honest with himself. Thoughts of Liv were still messing with his head and he didn’t like what it was doing to him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LIV RECEIVED ANOTHER lesson in giving and taking—or the lack thereof—prior to leaving for the second rodeo of the Big Three. Her mother had called to say that she’d actually broached the money matter with David. Liv could only imagine the amount of stress her mother must have felt to have taken such a huge step.
David had not been all that receptive, and Vivian had apparently instantly backed down, which made Liv want to tear her hair out. Partly because she worried about her mother, but mainly because she recalled doing the exact same thing herself. Over and over and over. Taking a stab at making a stand and then backing down. Maybe if Vivian stood her ground, then David would at the very least compromise. But no.
“You’re quiet,” Tim said as they passed through Deer Lodge.
“Just thinking about giving and taking,” Liv said darkly.
“Another call from your mother?”
“Mmm.” Liv didn’t want to discuss it. The nice thing about her father was that he was comfortable with silence.
Liv and Tim were the first to arrive at the rodeo grounds on a gloriously sunny day—the antithesis of the weather at the last rodeo. Tim parked at the far west side of the lot, and a few minutes later Susie’s trailer pulled up close to them, and Susie and Pete got out. “I told you we left too early,” Pete said as he headed to the back of the trailer.
“It won’t kill you to get here an hour early,” Susie said before raising a hand to Liv and calling, “Hi, Tim. Hi, Liv.”
“Hey,” Liv called back.
“Hi, guys,” Pete said absently before turning back to his wife. “I had some stuff I wanted to get done.”
“You can do it when we get back.” Susie disappeared into the tack room, so her voice was muffled as she called, “I just wanted to get here early enough to get the damned horse ready so I can watch some of the rodeo before the team meets.”
“Fine,” Pete muttered in a resigned voice.
Tim unloaded Queso while Liv got out the tack, trying not to listen to the continued bickering at the trailer next door, but finding it impossible not to.
While she’d been growing up, her mother and David had never bickered. What David wanted, happened. The same had been true of her relationship with Greg, although she hadn’t realized it until she’d finally stood up for herself. He was smoother than David, but controlling all the same. He took and gave very little back—only enough to keep her in line—and she hadn’t realized how unbalanced th
eir relationship had been because she was so unfamiliar with the dynamics of give-and-take. In her experience, there was no back-and-forth. Except with Andie and her mom, all of her relationships seemed to play out that way—even her most recent one. Especially her most recent one, which was supposed to follow a different path than the others, and obviously hadn’t. Despite her being candid about how far she was willing to go, Matt had tried to push her farther.
Liv frowned slightly, vaguely aware of Pete telling Susie that since they’d come early to the rodeo, that it was only fair that he be able to stay late at the poker game on Tuesday.
Yes. Matt had definitely done that. He’d pushed.
“All right,” Susie muttered from the other side of the trailer. “But you better not wake me up when you get in, and you’d better bring home some money.”
“Deal,” Pete said.
Had Matt actually pushed? Or had he stated his position? Told her what he wanted?
It had felt like pushing...or had that been her skewed perspective, colored by the past?
And...had he actually taken anything from her? Or even attempted to take anything from her?
Liv did not like the answer that instantly shot into her brain.
No, he did not. But you took all you could from him and refused to give back.
Really?
Liv sat down on the running board of the trailer, next to the open tack room door, the brush still in her hand. Had she become exactly what she’d wanted to avoid? Had she been the taker in the relationship?
Well, there certainly hadn’t been a lot to give on her part.
But if there had been a giver...
Matt hadn’t scurried around as she and her mother had, trying to make things perfect so Liv didn’t come unglued, but he’d definitely been flexible. And, true to her promise to herself, Liv had not bent an iota. She’d been the taker.
“Are you all right?” Tim asked gruffly as he walked by leading Queso.
“Yeah,” Liv said vaguely, getting back to her feet.
Well, damn.
* * *
THE DRILL PERFORMANCE had gone perfectly, Vivian called before Liv and Tim got home to say that things had settled down and that David was reconsidering the loan. Tim had not made Margo cry, at least as far as Liv knew, but she had seen him talking to her—and they had been standing closer than before.
In addition to those happy circumstances, Liv had not bumped into Matt, which was grand, because she was so not ready for a Matt encounter while she was in the throes of some pretty intense soul searching—soul searching that kept her from falling asleep that night despite being both mentally and physically exhausted after one long day.
She’d been a taker and she was not happy about it.
What could a taker do to make things right?
Should she try to make things right?
Damn it all, what was right?
I’m done, Liv. This is it. How many times had she played those words over in her head? Firmly told herself it was for the best?
Why hadn’t she believed it?
Because she’d twisted her perception of the situation to make it match what had happened between herself and Greg. Matt wasn’t Greg. Yes, he had his faults, but manipulating her wasn’t one of them. He’d flat out asked for more of a relationship. She’d flat out shut him down—and not because she hadn’t cared for him. She could tell herself over and over that he’d known the score before they hooked up, but deep down she knew that when feelings change, they change.
His feelings had changed, intensified, and he’d been honest about it. That wasn’t pushing.
Liv tossed and turned for a couple hours as the recriminating thoughts chased around in her head, then finally she snuck out of the house and went to the barn where she groomed Queso and talked to him while he steadfastly ignored her. Not even an ear flick to acknowledge her words. Sometimes the connection was there and sometimes it was not. With Queso it wasn’t there. With Beckett, it was.
With Matt... She leaned her head against the bay’s silky mane...with Matt it could have been, but she’d screwed it up. To save herself.
So what could she do now? Matt and Etta were a cozy little couple—or at least that was what Etta seemed to think.
Stay safe and leave things as they were?
What had been the obvious answer a few days ago did not seem so obvious now. If her father, her unsentimental father, had not managed to fall out of love in thirty years, then what chance did she have?
Liv started brushing again with a vengeance. How badly had she screwed up? She’d pretty much done everything possible to burn the bridge between them.
Everything read “too late.”
She could still recall Margo coming out of the ladies’ room at the Newport rodeo a week ago, her face even redder than when she’d gone in. The picture of too late. Because of stubbornness on both sides, although neither saw it that way. Thirty years of stubbornness and Margo was by all appearances still in love with Tim.
It wasn’t the relationship in this case that was driving her father and Margo crazy—it was the loss of relationship.
She could easily live her life alone and independently. Call the shots, be her own person.
As opposed to...?
Losing herself in a relationship.
Losing herself.
Did she have so little faith in herself? All that talk about being strong and she didn’t believe for one minute that she was strong enough to hold her own in a relationship without being controlled.
But who had called the shots with Matt?
She had. She’d started it when she’d kissed him back, and she’d ended it. And while Matt hadn’t exactly accepted what she’d decided without a fight, he’d ultimately respected her decision.
Even though he’d hated it.
What kind of a person was she?
Easy answer there. One who still had no faith in herself.
Nothing had changed since the days when she’d hid behind her studies and hoped Matt would notice her. Since she’d done all she could so that first Allen and then Greg would “keep” her.
Liv stopped brushing and for a moment her arms hung loosely at her sides before she wrapped them around Queso’s neck and hugged him, closing her eyes, wishing he was Beckett.
Damn. She missed her horse...and she missed Matt. And it was her fault that he was gone. He’d done exactly as she’d asked and removed himself from her life. She was stupid.
Maybe Matt was done with her, but for the sake of her sanity, she needed to talk to him, to at the very least tell him that she’d come to understand what he’d been trying to show her all along.
* * *
LIV GOT UP early the morning of the Bitterroot Challenge, the last of the Big Three, but once again Tim had beaten her out to the trailer and had the little Paso Fino loaded. Queso was a decent drill mount, but he was not a good late-night confidant. Yes, she’d told him her troubles, but since he didn’t have any issues of his own, it hadn’t been the same. She and Beckett had helped each other heal.
Queso was fine. She was not. A one-sided relationship.
Today she was going to watch Matt rope and she was going to talk to him. Try to nudge open that door, tell him what she’d figured out. Tell him she was sorry for having such a skewed view.
There was a very real chance that he was going to tell her to go to hell. If he did, she’d deal with it, but at least she w
ould end the relationship being honest.
Damn, but she hoped he didn’t tell her to go to hell.
“Do you want to leave the rodeo early again?” Tim asked as they got into the truck.
“No. I want to stay for the whole thing. I think I want to watch Matt rope.”
Tim glanced over at her and Liv shrugged with a nonchalance she didn’t come close to feeling. “I have some...business to attend to.”
Tim didn’t say another word.
* * *
HIS PARENTS WERE THERE. Matt had expected them to be, since they attended all of the rodeos within easy driving distance, but what he hadn’t expected was to see his father faced off with Ryan near Ryan’s no-frills stock trailer as he’d crossed the lot to drop his phone at his truck.
Matt stopped so suddenly that Beckett stepped on his boot heel. Matt winced and pushed the horse back, his eyes still on Ryan and Charles.
The conversation, it seemed, was not a pleasant one. Ryan pointed a finger at Charles, and even at this distance—too far away to hear more than the tone of their voices—Matt could see that his father’s face was red.
What the hell?
Did he want to know?
Then Charles turned on his heel and started striding away, stopping when he saw Matt standing twenty yards away.
Matt started walking toward him. He didn’t know why, but it was something he needed to do. Charles stood planted where he’d stopped and then Ryan started to approach from behind.
Caught between his sons.
This son had no idea how this was going to play out, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other, Beckett following behind him on a loose rein.
“Hey, Dad,” he said.
Charles had a wild look in his eyes as Ryan came up behind him. Matt met his brother’s eyes directly for probably the first time since they’d fought in the men’s room all those years ago. Now he could see a little of his father in Ryan. The jaw. The line of the nose.