he’d been so driven to get Beckett back had been because of Trena. The woman had not played fair, but Matt seemed to be moving on.
Beckett bobbed his head and leaned into Matt’s hand as he stroked the horse’s neck.
“Someday you’ll have to let me take him out. For old time’s sake.”
“Go ahead,” Liv said.
Matt shot her a startled look.
“Get on him,” she said.
Matt grinned widely. It took him less than a minute to change the stirrup length and mount. Her saddle was slightly too small for him, but Matt didn’t seem to care. It was a roping saddle and that was all he needed.
He lifted the reins and Beckett’s head came up. Liv watched the change in her horse with both amazement and a twist of jealousy. Beckett was alert, ready to go, an expression of equine anticipation in his amber eyes. The damned horse was practically smiling.
“One calf?”
Liv shrugged, her gut tightening. “Sure.”
Matt rode toward the arena gate and Liv followed, stopping close to where Margo was seated on the end of the bleachers. She smiled coolly at the woman who was making her father crazy, and then tried to find Matt and Beckett.
“He once owned the horse?” Margo asked. It was the first time the woman had spoken to her, other than a quick word during practice, since Tim had come out of the hospital.
“Yeah.”
“You can tell.”
Damn it, she could. They hadn’t been together in almost two years and man and animal were in total sync.
“I’d hate to lose him,” Liv said more to herself than to Margo.
“There’s nothing saying you have to.”
“I kind of got him in an underhanded deal.”
“I know.” Liv shot Margo a glance and the older woman said, “People talk.”
That’s right. They did. And now she was going to talk, or rather ask a question. “What happened with you and my father?”
Margo’s expression didn’t change. She’d been expecting the question. “A lot of stuff a long time ago.”
“Must have been some incredible stuff if you paid his hospital bill.” Liv lifted her chin as Matt and Beckett came into the arena through the small gate on the opposite end, half wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.
“That’s between Tim and me,” Margo said.
Liv kept her eye on the arena. It was between Margo and Tim. She may never know what their relationship was, but she wished that whatever it was, that they either buried it or dealt with it because she’d never seen her father like this in her life.
Matt maneuvered Beckett into position next to the chute. He nodded and the calf came charging out. A second later, Beckett went after him, switching his tail as he thundered after the animal. Her horse was fast.
Matt swung a loop and it settled over the calf’s head, then he released the rope and the calf continued on his way around the arena, the rope trailing after him.
She could see Matt’s triumphant smile from where she stood. He must have roped the beast in three flat and she had to give him bonus points for not throwing the calf, knowing how she felt about his knees. The calf ran to the chute and the guy keeping the gate snagged the loop off its head. Matt rode up, took the rope and coiled it as he and Beckett headed to the gate.
“Some team,” Margo said.
Liv couldn’t bring herself to answer. Beckett had loved every second of that run, in a way that he didn’t love doing drill work.
“Matt shouldn’t be roping,” she said.
“Honey, what a man should do and what he does do are very different things sometimes.”
Liv didn’t need to be hit over to the head in order to know that Margo was talking about her father. And she really wanted to know what Tim hadn’t done that was keeping him awake at night.
Matt was still smiling when he rode Beckett back up to Liv’s trailer. “I don’t imagine you watched.”
“I did,” she admitted.
Matt dismounted and handed the reins to Liv. “Finally.”
Matt ran a hand over Beckett’s neck. “You did good for having no practice,” he said to the horse.
Liv cleared her throat. “And you two did well together—just like you said.” She pulled in a breath, then realized that after stating the obvious, she had nothing else to say. He put a hand on the back of her neck, his fingers caressing over the smooth skin beneath her ponytail.
“You don’t need to sound so sad. I’m not going to steal him.”
The thought of letting Beckett