Jeannie Watt - Once a Champion

Trena had sworn that she wouldn’t mind going on the road with him, but the reality, even with a state-of-the-art live-in trailer, had been too much for her. She’d wanted to rent motel rooms, eat out, fly everywhere. Spend money as fast as he made it. He made good money, too, but not enough to spend like that.

The next year she didn’t go on the road with him. That had spelled the beginning of the end, although Matt hadn’t known it at the time.

The gate banged shut behind them and a few seconds later a cowboy Matt didn’t know rode by. He nodded at Wes, who nodded back.

“There’s a get-together later tonight at the Lion’s Den,” Wes said. “We’re making some plans for the Fourth of July rodeo.”

“I have to get home,” Matt said. “I’m, uh, babysitting.”

Wes coughed. “You?”

“Me. For Willa’s kid.”

“Does he rope?”

“He loads the dishwasher.”

“That’s a handy talent,” Wes said.

“Even if I wasn’t taking care of the kid,” Matt said, “I’m not feeling all that social right now.” He set the bottle on the edge of the truck bed. “I thought I was, but...I shouldn’t have come down here yet.”

“So what are your plans?” Wes asked quietly. “Now that you’re back in the area.”

“My plans are to heal my knee in time for the Bitterroot Challenge.”

Wes sent him a dubious look. “Is that possible?”

A twist of the knife. “I won’t know unless I try.”

“That’s right,” Wes said. “You gotta try.”

“I’ve seen guys come back from worse injuries than this,” Matt said, not liking how defensive he sounded.

“Me, too.”

Matt swallowed the last of his beer and tossed the bottle into the trash can near the fence. “I’ve seen guys come back from broken backs and climb back up on a bull again.”

“You kinda gotta wonder if they got kicked in the head one too many times.”

“You’re missing the point,” Matt said.

Wes smiled from beneath his mustache and took another drink of his beer. “Other than healing, what are your plans?”

To rodeo for another five years. He was thirty, single and not ready to settle down. When he did settle down, it might not even be in Dillon. His mother would hate that, but sometimes he thought it would be best if he didn’t settle too close to his dad.

“And I mean other than rodeo.”

“I don’t know.”

“You could start a babysitting business.”

“I could punch you in the face,” Matt said conversationally and Wes smiled. “I don’t have any set plans,” he admitted. “Other than the one I just told you.”

“You might want to come up with one. Just a bit of advice from one injured rodeo man to another.”

Coming up with a backup plan felt like admitting defeat before he’d even started to fight the battle.

“You could go back to college. Here at Western.”

Matt made a dismissive gesture. He didn’t want to go back to college. Not at his age. He had no idea what he wanted to do with his future.

“I’ll come up with some kind of plan.” It’d probably involve raising hay and roping horses, which sounded pretty damned boring. He wasn’t ready to go that route yet.

“And the horse?”

“I’m getting the horse back,” Matt said. It was a matter of changing tactics.

He’d shown up on Liv’s ranch without warning and indicated he wanted Beckett back. Of course she’d felt threatened. But under normal circumstances, when she wasn’t pressed into defensive mode by a surprise attack, she was a nice person. A good person. Not a person who kept a guy’s horse.

He’d wait a couple days, then drop by and they’d talk again, under less stressful conditions.

* * *

NOT AGAIN.

Liv pressed a hand to her forehead as Matt Montoya’s distinctive two-tone silver-and-black Dodge pulled up under the elm tree and parked. Thank goodness Beckett was behind the barn where he couldn’t see him.

She moved back from the window as Matt got out of the truck and stood studying the house for a moment, as if gauging his best means of attack.

Plan all you want, Montoya. You aren’t getting my horse.

Finally he started toward the house, his gait uneven due to the brace he wore, and Liv quickly crossed the living room and opened the front door to step out onto the porch. This time, though, it wasn’t to keep Matt from waking her father. Tim was out on the baler, trying to salvage the hay. He looked like hell, but still insisted he felt better. Liv didn’t believe him, but was at a loss as to what to do. She was frustrated and more than willing to take it out on Matt. In fact, she was kind of looking forward to taking it out on him.

She closed the screen door behind her and drew herself up as Matt approached, looking like a cowgirl’s wet dream. Her seventeen-year-old self would have never believed that the guy could have looked hotter than he had back then, but she would have been wrong. Matt was taller, his shoulders broader, and he had a sensuality about him that he hadn’t had back then.

Looks fade. Integrity lasts.

As far as she was concerned, Matt had no integrity. He’d shown that when he’d used her to get his grades up and then never spoken to her again, and he’d shown it when he’d misused Beckett.

Her eyebrows rose slightly as he stopped on the bottom step.

She very much wanted to say, “No,” before he started speaking, but figured that wouldn’t get her what she wanted—his carcass off her property.

“I’m sorry about the other day,” he said with rather convincing sincerity.

“What part?”

He looked surprised at her comment. “All of it. I mean obviously you had no idea of the truth, and I just kind of sprung it on you.”

“I know the truth, Matt. The truth is that I bought that horse fair and square. I’ve had him for over a year and I love him.”

“I happen to be fond of him myself.”

Yeah? Then why was he in the condition he was in?

But Liv wasn’t going there. It would only prolong the conversation. “You must have dozens of horses.”

“Practice horses. I only have one other rodeo horse and he’s not as good as Beckett.”

“That didn’t seem to slow you down when you won the World.”

“My times could have been better.”

“It’s all about the time?” Obviously it was all about time. And him. Not about the horse or his wife.

“Some of it is about Trena selling my horse behind my back and some of it is that I happen to like that horse—my horse—and I’d like him back.” He spoke calmly, reasonably. The picture of the charming cowboy who’d been done wrong and the fact that he could stand here and pretend he cared about the horse that he’d hurt through lack of care...well, it was all she could do not to walk down the three steps that separated them and smack him a good one. For Beckett.

Liv folded her arms over her chest. “There’s something you need to understand, Matt. You might be able to charm yourself out of a multitude of situations, but you aren’t charming me. Sometimes, despite charisma and good looks, the answer is no. And that’s what it’s going to stay. No.”

He bit down on one corner of his lip before saying, “Aren’t you going to threaten me with your father again?”

“Dad’s busy cutting hay.”

“About time.”

“He’s been sick.”

“Sorry to hear that.” He didn’t sound one bit sorry and he made his lack of sympathy clear when he said, “This isn’t over, Liv. I’ll hire a lawyer.”

“Andie’s dad already advised me and he said he’ll give me all the help I need to keep Beckett.”

“He’s my horse.”

“Not according to the State of Montana.” Liv lifted her chin. “This is the last time we’re having this conversation.”