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 would 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