Once a Champion - By Jeannie Watt Page 0,26

arm and practically lifted her out of the chair.

In order to avoid being frog-marched into the bathroom, Liv stood and allowed Vivian to steer her across the dining room. The bathroom door was barely shut when Vivian said, “What are you doing? You’re ruining the day!”

“I’m pointing out some things for Shae to think about.” Other than herself.

“Don’t make waves, Liv. I want Shae to have a nice wedding.”

“Mom, a person can have a nice wedding without strong-arming her friends into extravagant purchases.”

“It’s common—” Vivian’s mouth snapped shut.

“Practice?”

“Olivia...please?”

Liv finally let out a breath and glanced off to her left, away from her mother, toward the elaborate silk flower arrangement next to the far sink. “Fine. I’ll scrape up enough money for a dress I’ll wear one time.”

“It’s tea length.”

Liv almost laughed. “Come on, Mom. How many bridesmaids dresses are fit to be worn twice?”

“Why are you being like this?” The desperate note in her mother’s voice sent a stab of guilt through her. It was then she noticed the tears welling up in the corners of her mother’s eyes. Her mother was no stranger to tears, but she cried only when she was truly upset.

“I—” Liv made a frustrated gesture “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“I don’t understand this.”

“What?”

“Why you’re being so stubborn.”

Liv leaned back against the counter, thoroughly glad that no one else needed to use the restroom. “I was cooperative all morning.”

“You’re not cooperating now.”

“I am tired of letting myself get pushed into things.” And Shae was almost as good at pushing as Greg had been.

“Do you have to make a stand now?”

Liv exhaled. This was not the time to rebel. What purpose would this serve? She could come up with three hundred dollars for a dress. Four hundred if she had to. But she was drawing the line at five.

Vivian opened her mouth, but Liv raised a hand. “I want Shae to have a nice wedding, too. And I’ll buy a dress—the dress of Shae’s dreams—as long as it’s not over four hundred and fifty dollars...without making any more comments.”

“Thank you.” Vivian took a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at the corners of her red-rimmed eyes. Liv waited while she reapplied lipstick, then led the way out of the restroom, hoping it wasn’t evident that Vivian had almost started to cry.

Shae made an effort not to look at Vivian too closely, so Liv figured that it was indeed obvious that she had been a bad daughter and made her mother cry.

The waiter appeared with a tray of desserts, giving Vivian time to fully compose herself and by the time he left, she smiled and said, “Where to next?”

Shae cut a quick look at Liv who blandly met it, determined to make the best of the day and to not upset her mother again. Go ahead, Shae. Rape my bank account in the name of love and making a statement.

“The Bon,” Shae said with a touch of challenge in her voice.

Liv shrugged and then shouldered her purse. “Sounds good.”

Vivian beamed.

* * *

BY THE TIME Liv got home, her head was throbbing from smiling and holding in her thoughts for her mother’s sake. Shae had her list narrowed down to three dresses, all between two and three hundred dollars, surprisingly, and now she was going to consult with the other bridesmaids before doing what she darned well pleased.

The tractor was parked next to the barn and when Liv went into the house, she noticed that Tim’s door was shut.

Was he napping again? Another bout of exhaustion? Or maybe he knew that she planned to have a frank discussion with him and was avoiding it.

Liv dumped her tote bag beside the door and went to change into her riding clothes. She needed some time in the saddle and maybe a beer to help her de-stress. The ride would come first.

She went into the barn and scooped up the grain, a little surprised that Beckett didn’t come ambling into the open part of the barn when he heard the grain. Maybe he was out in the belly-deep grass.

“Hey,” Liv called as she opened the man door that lead to the corral and pasture beyond that. Something was wrong. The corral was empty, as was the pasture. Not one sign of a horse. There was only one gate to the twenty-acre pasture and it was next to the barn, closed and latched.

“That son of a bitch.”

CHAPTER SIX

LIV DROPPED THE BUCKET then stormed back to the house. She was almost to the door when

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