Shae, helped Matt. Then they’d dumped her and started dating. No one, not even Andie, knew how much that had hurt.
At the time, Liv had simply pretended that, after working closely with Matt, she’d come to realize that he didn’t have much substance. “Not crush-worthy” had been her exact words to Andie. She hadn’t mentioned that she’d cried into her pillow the first time Matt and Shae had gone out.
Wasted time. Wasted tears.
Even though she could look back and shake her head at what had seemed like the end of the world, she also felt vestiges of anger at being so damned used.
Shake it off.
“To be honest,” Liv said, putting a foot in the stirrup and mounting, “I never hated Shae. I was just jealous of her. She seemed so...perfect.” And Liv had felt so far from perfect when they’d lived together. Shae was confident and bossy and on the occasions when she and Liv argued, Liv inevitably backed down—mainly because her mother would insist that she did.
“Shae is perfect,” Andie said airily. “Just ask her.”
Liv smiled fleetingly before saying in a flat, adamant voice, “I don’t want to go tomorrow.” What’s more, she didn’t want to go into the arena right now. “I don’t know why I’m even invited. Shae will pick what she wants whether I’m there or not.”
“Your mother probably insisted.” Andie mounted as she spoke.
“My mother never insists on anything from anyone except me.”
“Then your mother manipulated.”
“That’s probably closer to the truth. Frankly, I wish she hadn’t wasted the effort. Shae’s having a small wedding, but I don’t doubt for one minute that she’s going to bully me into buying the most expensive dress on the rack.”
“But it will be in impeccable taste.”
“No doubt. Am I being too much of a bitch?”
“You’re probably just tired of Shae walking over the top of you.”
“Could be, could be.”
Andie laughed as she gathered her reins. “Well, there’s nothing like an evening thundering around an arena to work out your aggressions.”
The knot in Liv’s stomach, the one she’d been trying to ignore by focusing on the other stresses in her life—Matt, bridal shopping, her father—tightened. “I’ve never done a drill faster than a trot.”
Andie’s eyebrows went up. “That will not happen often with this crew.”
“But—”
“You’ll learn the drills in no time. I did.”
“You were a barrel racer.”
She and Andie turned their horses to follow the other riders to the arena gate. Linda called for attention once all twelve riders were there, and then Andie leaned close to say, “You will screw up. Everyone does. If someone yells at you, ignore it.”
“They’re going to yell at me?” Liv whispered back.
“Oh, yeah.”
“I didn’t sign on for—”
“Ladies!” the woman on the buckskin barked. Liv jumped as if she’d been caught talking during a test.
Get a grip.
Yes, she could do this. It was just different than what she and Beckett were used to. She’d joined the sedate drill team in Billings as a way to meet other horsewomen and to get Beckett back into the arena in a way that didn’t stress him out. They’d both loved the easy-paced practices and leaving the Billings drill team behind had been one of Liv’s regrets. Those easy practices were obviously a thing of the past.
Andie’s eyes were straight ahead, focused on Linda, but she wore that small I’m-not-taking-this-serious smile that made Liv wish she wasn’t, either. Drilling with this bunch would be a great way for her to learn to lighten up. Make some mistakes.
Linda described the strategy for the practice, and Liv had little to no idea what she was talking about. “We’ll do the first run-through at a trot to bring Livvy up to speed.”
Liv send up a silent prayer of thanks and nudged Beckett forward. His ears pricked at the gate, as always, and his eyes rolled a little, but he went in quietly. Linda immediately bellowed at Liv to turn to the left and circle the arena at a fast trot behind Susie, who’d entered just before her. Liv urged Beckett into a trot and did as she was told. Linda continued to yell instructions: follow Andie, pair up with Margo, cut to the center, roll back—roll back? really?—reverse and head to the center. Slide to a stop....
By the time she finished, the back of her shirt was damp and her jaw was tense...but she’d done okay. A couple more times at a trot and she’d be good to go.
“Okay, ready to do it at a canter?” Linda asked.
“No!” Liv ignored the fact that it was a rhetorical question as her survival mechanism kicked in. “Not even close.”
“You’ll do fine,” Susie said.
“Define fine,” Liv muttered, turning Beckett to join the rest of the women as they left the arena.
Liv did not do fine on the next run, but she did survive. Her knee hurt from making a wrong turn and finding herself on a near collision course with Becca. They banged knees as they passed, but at least the horses hadn’t crashed together.
As the practice continued, there was lots of yelling, but none of it, she realized, malicious. Just loud attempts to get her back on course before she creamed someone—again—which wouldn’t have happened if they were trotting.
“Well done,” Linda said as she rode up next to Beckett.
“Really?” Liv asked flatly. “I almost killed Becca.”
Linda waved a dismissive hand as if killing Becca was not a major concern. “But you didn’t. And you catch on fast. You did good for the first time.”
“You didn’t do that good,” Andie said as Linda rode away, making Liv smile.
“Thanks for the reality check.” But actually, now that it was over, Liv did feel a sense of accomplishment. She and Beckett could do this and Beckett seemed to enjoy it more than the slow parade drills—probably because he was born to run. Charging after a calf wasn’t all that different than charging after a teammate who was opening up a gap in the pattern.
“Anytime, my friend. But you know what?”
“Mmm?”
“It’s good to see you stepping out of your comfort zone.”
“You like to watch me suffer?” Andie might be her closest friend, but she had no idea just how much time Liv had spent out of her comfort zone over the past year. Some things Liv just didn’t talk about.
“If
