me around?”
“Yeah. Direct order.”
* * *
WHEN LIV GOT BACK from work on Friday, the driveway was freshly graveled.
“Hey,” she said to her father as she came into the house. “Did Walter finally get his dump truck fixed? The driveway is nice.”
“Matt did it. Borrowed the truck off his dad’s ranch.”
Liv sat down on the arm of the sofa. “Dad, why are you letting Matt help around the place?”
“I think I answered that already.”
She let out a sigh. “Fine.” As long as she wasn’t here when he was, she didn’t care. It was a help to her father—although it irked her that he’d let Matt do stuff he wouldn’t let her do. “But if he’s just looking for a time to steal Beckett, I’ll never forgive you.”
Tim snorted. “I think he’d have done it by now.”
“He still wants him,” Liv said.
“So he’s said.”
“He has?” Liv’s stomach instantly knotted.
“Yeah.”
“He has other horses.” One of them injured, but hey, he shouldn’t be roping anyway.
“Some horses are special.”
“You don’t even like horses.”
“But I once knew a woman that did.”
Liv felt her mouth start to fall open, but caught it before any uncensored questions popped out and caused her father to clam up. “Beckett is one of the special ones,” she agreed. “I’d hate to lose him.”
The thought made her feel a little sick inside.
Which might well be what Matt had felt upon losing the horse himself.
Liv didn’t want to think about it. Instead, she went to her room to get ready for practice. She brushed Beckett before saddling him and loading him in the trailer.
Once upon a time Tim had known a woman who’d loved horses.
Was that woman Margo Beloit?
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING—Saturday—Liv slept in and once again she found Matt’s truck parked under the elm when she walked out onto the porch with her coffee.
She was simply going to have to stop sleeping in. It was too unnerving having him on the place. Where was he this morning?
A clatter near the shed answered her question and a second later she heard the distinct sound of an aluminum ladder being put into place, followed by scraping.
Painting? Really? She could paint.
Both Tim and Matt were beginning to piss her off.
She walked around the shed to where Matt was halfway up the ladder.
“How long are you going to be doing this?” He opened his mouth and she added, “And don’t give me a time estimate on the shed. How long are you going to keep coming here to ‘help’ my father?”
“A couple more days.” He was wearing a ball cap and with the sun behind him, she couldn’t see his face. But she thought he might be smiling. “Why does it bother you so much that I’m here?”
“Because Tim never lets anyone help him and it unnerves me that he’s letting you,” she said in a low voice, since she didn’t know where her father was. The tractor wasn’t running, so he could be anywhere. “Finish whatever it is you’re here to do and then leave. Just...don’t play games.”
“I’m not here to play games, Liv.” He started down the ladder and Liv had to force herself to hold her position until he got to the ground. “I’m here to pay a debt.”
“Screw the debt!” Liv sucked in a breath through her teeth and once again did a surreptitious check for Tim. “I don’t trust you,” she said.
“No!”
“I’m not sure what your agenda is, but know this...I’m not giving up my horse.”
“I’m not here for your horse, even if I want him back. There. How’s that for honesty. I admitted that I’d like to have the horse. But I probably won’t get him.”
“Probably,” Liv said, jabbing a finger at him. “You said probably. That means you’re going to try.”
One corner of his mouth tilted up. “Maybe it means that you’ll someday see the light and sell him back.”
“Ha. Fat chance.”
“A guy can always hope.”
“Don’t waste your energy,” she snapped.
“This isn’t about the horse, Liv. Tim needs the help. I have a few hours I can give him in the morning before I practice. Maybe he’s more comfortable with me helping him than with making his daughter do manual labor. Has that ever occurred to you?”
“I happen to like manual labor.”
“But does Tim like having you do it?”
No, he did not. Which was an outdated notion, but one he’d never successfully shaken.
“Liv, I’m not here to make you miserable.”
“Well, you are.”
“Sorry.”
“Ha,” she said again before turning and stalking toward the house.
* * *
“ARE YOU STILL working here?”