Maverick (Star Valley Book 3) by Dahlia West Page A

grudgingly. “I guess I have to tell you. For the baby’s sake. I was diagnosed when I was little. I…there were a lot of treatments. It went into remission and we thought it was over. But it came back and there were more treatments.”
    “I know how it is,” he confided to her.
    Her mouth dropped open in surprise.
    “My mother died when I was younger. Breast cancer. We thought we’d beat it once, but…” He shook his head. “There was nothing we could do.”
    “I…I’m sorry.”
    The horrible weight of his words hung between them because there were obviously no guarantees for Leah, either.
    “The treatments destroyed my body,” she said. “I didn’t lie to you, when I said it was okay, at the hotel, the night we…” She waved her hand at him again. He realized it was because her eyes were welling up with tears. “Whatever.”
    Austin saw her cheeks pinken all the way to her ears. If things weren’t so difficult right now, he might’ve thought she looked adorable, embarrassed to be talking about sex. She’d been wild that night, though, a caged animal turned loose. It made sense now.
    “I thought it was okay,” she told him. “They said I’d…” She paused, gripped the edge of the table, and blew out a long breath.
    Austin could tell she was fighting back tears. That was a thing he was finding surprising, and admirable.
    This girl was a fighter through and through. She was so young, though. Fourteen years his junior. He could kick himself for ever buying her a drink in the first place. He should’ve known better. She’d been through so much in such a short time. She seemed so much older sometimes.
    “They said I’d probably never have children. They thought all my eggs were damaged. From the chemo.” She sniffed and looked away. “I was alive but couldn’t have a life. Or give one. But…” Her hand fluttered to her belly. “I guess they were wrong.”
    “Okay,” he said numbly, though none of it was okay, not one single bit of it. How awful to survive something like that only to be told you were permanently scarred by it. “So…you’re keeping the ba—”
    Her head snapped back forcefully and she pinned him with a look so intense he nearly shrank away instinctively. “This is my baby!” she hissed, leaning forward in her chair. “My baby ! And I am not getting rid of it! Not for you, not for anyone .”
    “Leah, no one’s asking you to—”
    “Maybe you should go,” she said, her voice getting louder now. “Go back to Star Valley. Forget about me, about us . We’ll be fine.”
    “Leah, you came to me .”
    “You’re not who I thought you were,” she said. “Or…you’re not who I wanted you to be. But I did what was right. I told you. You know. So, I did my part. Let’s not pretend like this is normal or fixable. You should go. I won’t ever ask you for anything.”
    “Leah—”
    “That’s what you want, anyway. You told me to leave. So, I did. Now I’m telling you to leave. Go ahead and go. And we never have to think about each other again. I’ve got this, Austin. I never knew how much I wanted it back when I thought it could never, ever happen. But now that it has…”
    Austin saw a look of fierce determination cross her face. It was admirable, if not a little disheartening, to know she was making plans to do this all alone.
    “I’ve got this,” she repeated. “I can do this. I want this .”
    He passed her a napkin since it looked like she was going to cry again and then he kicked himself for not being more helpful, for not knowing what to say. Table manners were no substitute for actual human kindness and Austin realized that so far, since he’d met her, he hadn’t shown Leah any kindness, not at all. He’d used her to have himself a good time without giving her even a second thought. And when she needed him after, he’d abused her again.
    “I’m not going to just go away, Leah,” he said gently. “And I don’t think it’s realistic for you