Jeannie Watt - Once a Champion

“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 room, 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—”