Once a Champion. Jeannie Watt

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      CHAPTER FIVE

      LIV PULLED OFF her ball cap as she walked into the bathroom and then released her hair from the elastic band. It barely moved. Her former drill team had never stirred up so much dust during a practice, but then her old drill team hadn’t ridden hell-bent for election during practice, either.

      She waited a moment at the sink, studying her dusty reflection, wondering how long Tim was going to stay up to make his point. A long time, apparently.

      Finally, after she’d shucked off her dirty clothing and was about to crank on the shower, she heard her father walk down the hall toward his room at the far end of the house. His door closed and the house fell silent.

      Thank goodness.

      Liv turned on the water and a few minutes later stepped under the spray, letting it beat on her, washing dust out of her hair and, hopefully, working tension out of her shoulders. Murky water swirled around her feet before going down the drain, but the stiffness in her shoulders barely abated.

      Stress. Oh, yes. Her perpetual friend, back with a bit more force than usual after drill practice and the unsuccessful confrontation with her father. Add to that the shopping trip tomorrow, starting a new job in a few days and Matt trying to finagle her horse away from her and no wonder her muscles were seized up.

      She rolled her shoulders under the spray, closing her eyes and making a conscious effort to relax. She could deal with this stuff—even if most of it took her well out of her comfort zone.

      Liv sighed as she reached for the shampoo. Maybe in a year or two it would be easy. Or easier. Right now it was a constant effort to hold her own, not take the easy way out and become invisible and/or compliant. She just wasn’t certain how much was enough when it came to standing your ground.

      The water was turning cold by the time she turned off the faucet, and her shoulders felt only slightly better. She put on her threadbare flannel pajamas and headed to her bedroom, combing her hair with a large wooden comb as she walked. Liv did not own a blow-dryer—hers had given up the ghost shortly before she moved home and she had yet to replace it—so instead of trying to sleep, she propped herself up against the headboard and started reading her new patients’ case files as her hair dried. Shopping with her mother and Shae meant having hair that didn’t look as if it had been slept on wet. It would be amusing to see their expressions if she showed up with bent hair, but Liv couldn’t do it.

      She finally closed the last file close to midnight and snuggled down into the sheets, closed her eyes. And realized she was nowhere near being ready to sleep.

      Was her dad asleep? A few nights ago she’d heard him pacing his room, but it was silent tonight.

      She flopped over onto her side.

      Was she up to watching her mother fall all over herself tomorrow trying to make Shae’s special day even more special? She hated seeing her mom doing everything in her power to keep Shae happy, because she knew why she was doing it—to please David, her husband and Shae’s father.

      Liv pulled in a breath, closed her eyes even tighter.

      Would Matt make yet another attempt to get her horse? And if he did, how was she going to handle it without upsetting Tim? She’d think of something.

      Liv rolled onto her back, resolutely tried to close off the racing thoughts, then after another ten minutes, gave up. How many nights had she spent like this over the past year and a half? Awake and wondering, worrying?

      Too many after breaking up with Greg.

      Liv pulled the flashlight out from under her bed and silently left her room, creeping down the hall to the mudroom where she eased her feet into her barn shoes. When she left the house, she didn’t quite shut the heavy door behind her. Her father had excellent hearing and the last thing she wanted was for him to get up to investigate the sound of the front door closing.

      Gravel crunched beneath her feet as she crossed the driveway, the sound unusually loud in the stillness of the night. Once inside the barn, out of view of her father’s window, Liv turned on the flashlight and grabbed a brush out of the grooming box. Beckett’s stall was empty, so she headed for the rear man door, clicking off the flashlight as she went.

      Beckett, familiar with the late-night ritual, nickered softly as Liv started across the pasture to where he stood under the Russian olive tree, moonlight bathing his back. He ambled over to meet her halfway and then stopped, obligingly turning his side toward her, waiting for the grooming to begin.

      Liv started on his neck, following each flick of the brush with a stroke of her hand. She worked her way over the healed saddle sores on his withers and lower back, now evident only by the white hairs that covered the scars. It still angered her to think about his wounds. Did Matt think a horse was just a tool to be used and abused for his benefit? Did he even care that the saddle he was using didn’t fit or that Beckett’s mouth had been injured from too large of a bit and the way Matt had handled him?

      Liv gritted her teeth, the brush flying over Beckett’s coat in quick, agitated movements before she suddenly stopped and leaned against the horse, squeezing her eyes shut as she inhaled deeply. A moment later, Liv set the brush on the ground and started working the tangles out of Beckett’s mane with her fingers. The gelding pulled in a deep breath and then exhaled. A horsey sigh, which Liv echoed. Beckett didn’t like having his mane untangled, but he endured, as he’d endured his abuse.

      Now Matt wanted the horse back. Fat chance. If he was stupid enough to come back a third time, Tim would not be the one dealing with him. No. She didn’t want anyone dealing with Matt Montoya except for herself. Andie and Tim...they meant well, but Liv would fight this battle alone. This was one area where she had no qualms about standing her ground.

      Once she’d finished with the mane, she ran her hand over Beckett’s nose and the horse pushed against it, snuffling for a treat. She had nothing, but smiled as she ruffled his mane, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his solid muscles.

      If it hadn’t been for Beckett needing to be rescued, she may not have realized how closely she’d been mirroring her mother’s behavior, or how damaging that could be, until it was too late.

      Vivian’s one need in life was to have a man to keep her secure, and in order to hang on to her man, she would become indispensible so they would keep her. Don’t make waves, Liv.

      And Liv hadn’t. She’d been the picture of compliance and cooperation for most of her life. Until the situation with Greg had come to a head.

      Something inside of her had snapped after he’d essentially told her to choose him or a horse. In a life-changing moment of clarity, Liv had said she chose the horse. She could still see the shocked expression on Greg’s handsome face, feel the twist of her gut as she’d realized what she’d just done. Then he’d laughed. A reprieve, a chance to pretend she’d been making a joke.

      She hadn’t felt even a flicker of temptation to recant, which was in itself stunning because until that point she’d considered herself to be madly in love with the man. Maybe she was in love, she’d told herself. Maybe they just needed time to work this out.

      Or maybe she’d finally realized that she’d СКАЧАТЬ