Maverick (Star Valley Book 3)

by Dahlia West

  She waited, heart hammering in her throat. What would she say if he answered? Thank him for last night? Invite him down to breakfast? Would she really have the nerve to ask for his number?

  Her frantic heartbeat slowed a little, disappointed, as seconds stretched out into a minute with no answer. Beside her, the door to the adjacent room opened and she jumped a little. A small, thin Hispanic woman stepped out into the hall, gripped the cart and began to push it forward, toward Leah. “Your room?” asked the woman.

  Leah shook her head. “No. Um, no. Not my room. Wrong room,” she replied, disheartened. She moved out of the way as the woman knocked loudly.

  “Housekeeping!” she called out but there was no answer for her, either. The woman smiled at Leah and stuck her passkey into the electronic lock as Leah moved away slowly. Unable to resist, she glanced into the room as the door opened, not sure if she really expected to see her cowboy on the other side, trying to avoid her. The room was empty though, the sheets flung back and the curtains pulled wide.

  Leah’s heart sank as she turned and headed back toward the elevator. Oh, well, she told her self as the heavy metal doors slid closed. That’s what a one night stand was. A series of mistakes that led to a collision. She was dented a little, maybe, but she’d come through it okay. Back in the room Candace’s eyebrows were raised as she stepped inside. Leah shook her head, letting the door close behind her. “He’s gone,” she declared.

  Candace sighed. “Shit. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Leah replied and flopped down onto the bed.

  “Well, anyway…” Something hit Leah’s chest and she opened her eyes to see a white plastic pen with the hotel’s name stamped on it. Candace laid out the list on the mattress. “You can cross it off.” Then she gave Leah a sly smile, “unless you’d like to try again and get it right the next time.”

  Leah snorted and picked up the pen. “I think once was enough. And no matter who I meet from now on, no one’ll be as hot as that guy.”

  “Amen,” Candace declared. “Too bad he was shit in bed. Or against the wall.”

  “Shhh!” Leah hissed as she crossed off item number one. “He wasn’t shit.” And he hadn’t been. Not really. Leah wasn’t sure what he’d been. Or what she’d been. It had probably been mostly her fault, inexperienced as she was. Whatever the case, she didn’t regret it. “I could die happy,” she sighed, laying back against the pillow.

  Candace glared at her.

  “Sorry,” Leah mumbled.

  “Let’s get back to Cody and start working on the rest of that list.”

  Chapter Seven

  ‡

  Austin woke with a splitting headache and a sharp disappointment to match when he rolled over and found himself alone in the bed. Indeed, when he forced himself to sit up and take a look around the room, there was no sign that anyone had been there with him at all. No hangover in the world would mask the ache behind his zipper at the moment. A sweet morning send-off would’ve been just the thing. And it still would be, if he could find her fast enough.

  He grabbed a mint from the nightstand, popped it into his mouth, and snatched up his room key. Downstairs in the lobby, he ducked into the bar, which was empty, of course, this early in the morning. Across the room, he spotted the barstool he’d been sitting on when she’d first come up to him. No sign of her now, though. One lone staff member was vacuuming the carpet when he looked up and switched off the machine.

  “I…misplaced something last night,” Austin told him. “I suppose the bartender who was on shift isn’t here now.”

  The man shook his head. “No, sorry. You can check with the front desk, though. They might have it.”

  “Thanks.” Austin stood in the lobby again, watching the other guests walk by. Every blonde got a second look, just in case, and every time the bell rang over the elevators he craned his neck to see who was coming out. He scrutinized the front desk and weighed his odds of getting the receptionist to help him. It was a man, though, behind the counter, not a woman, and Austin doubted his winning smile and a few well-placed compliments would get him anywhere. Some of the cash in his wallet might, though.

  He reached around to his back pocket, fingers on the well-worn leather when the bell rang again and instinctively he turned to look. It wasn’t his little rabbit that exited the car, though. It was Walker, suitcase in hand. Austin stifled a groan.

  “Where’s your stuff?” Walker asked, his own room key in his hand.

  “Upstairs.”

  “Well, go get it. Come on. We’re burning daylight,” Walker told him. “I’ll check us out. Meet me at the truck.”

  He glanced over his shoulder again at the elevators.

  “What’s the holdup? We’ve got to get back.”

  Austin sighed. “You’re right. Let me grab my bag.” He hustled to the elevator and hit the buttons for every floor, leaning out to check each hallway before finally ending up at the top. He maneuvered past the cleaning lady whose cart was partially blocking his way, cleared out his room, and let the door close behind him. With every step back to the elevators, he felt more and more disappointed.

  He didn’t spot her in the parking lot either as he hefted his bag into the bed of Walker’s Ford.

  “You’re mooning about an awful lot,” Walker told him, closing the gate with a loud bang. “Must’ve been some girl.”

  “She was. She was something else.”

  As they climbed into the cab, Walker cast him a long look over the seat. “Are you ready to put that hand cannon away and go back to being normal now that you’ve gotten the crazy out your system?”

  “Yeah, about that,” Austin replied as Walker pulled out of the hotel’s parking lot. And for the next hour he proceeded to fill in his older brother on a set of mysterious tracks that had appeared up on the Folly.

  Walker’s mood turned instantly dark and remained that way for the entire drive home. By the time they got back home, it was after noon and Austin felt like the whole day had been practically wasted. He hated the idea of losing one more minute of work, but he smelled like a distillery (and of other, equally enjoyable things) and Colter would probably appreciate it if he hosed himself off before trekking up to the Folly.

  “I’m going to shower and head up,” Austin declared.

  Walker hesitated and looked back at him. “I’m coming with you. And pack that hand cannon.”

  Austin nodded.

  In the kitchen, he found Sofia and Dakota at the table, finishing lunch. “I think I’ll polish this and put it right on the mantle, where Walker has to look at it every damn day and chew on his own face.” He placed the glass trophy at the center of the table to the squeals of delight from Dakota and her mother.

  Dakota rocketed out of her chair and wrapped her arms around him. “This is so awesome!”

  Sofia smiled and her eyes shone brightly. She was the closest thing Austin had to a mother these days and her regard was no less important. “You’ve done well, mijo. Very well. I’m very proud.”

  “Whew!” said Dakota, fanning her face and stepping away. “Certainly smells like you had a good time celebrating last night.”

  Austin couldn’t suppress the grin that broke out on his face. “I had one hell of a time,” he admitted.

  Dakota laughed but Sofia rolled her eyes. “When will you settle down with a nice girl?”

  “She was a nice girl. But she ran off, Sofia. Scampered away after I closed my eyes. I tried to find her.”

  The older woman frowned at him.

  “I did! Honest. I looked all over for her but she was gone. I’m still sad about it.”

  She sighed, set his packed lunch on the edge of the counter, and patted his arm. “You boys,” she chastised before leaving the room.

  Dakota huffed, echoing her mother’s sentiment, and turned to leave, presumably to the horse barn where she spent most of her time. Before she could reach the side door, Austin caught her under the arm. “I didn’t see him with anyone,” he
whispered into her ear.

  Dakota sniffed. “I didn’t ask.”

  He gave her a long, knowing look.

  “Well, I didn’t!” she insisted, but smiled a little anyway. He watched her tongue trace her lower lip. Never in his life had he wanted to kiss Dakota, not like Leah when he’d seen her do the same. It was ridiculous that Walker had ever thought Austin and Dakota were anything more than family by association. “No one?” she asked quietly.

  “Nope.”

  She nodded. “I’ll get Colter saddled up.”

  The ride to the Folly was easier these days, now that most of Austin’s necessities were permanently stowed at the camp. All he needed with him now were some fresh clothes, the food Sofia had packed him, and his pistol, stored in his saddlebag. He and Walker passed most of the ride in silence, as they often did. Perhaps being twins made it unnecessary to say much and knowing the land as well as they did eliminated the need to discuss the ride.

  They didn’t look much alike, with the exception of their dark hair, large builds, and deep brown eyes. And they were at polar opposites, these days, with Walker becoming so cautious financially, as to appear to be in limbo on most major decisions about running Snake River while Austin was still his usual full-tilt, risk-taking self.

  They were both stubborn, though, holding on tightly to their little territories at either end of the spectrum. Better not to talk than to argue. It would just devolve anyway into a fight about late-season calving, Dakota’s pet project for the ranch. Austin supported the idea while Walker did not. And the three of them had been on shaky ground with each other ever since.

  One hundred yards from camp, Austin whistled loudly to announce their presence. Gabe’s familiar sharp, high-pitched reply cleared their safe passage to the camp itself. The younger foreman hailed them with a wave of his arm as Austin slid off Colter and began to take off the horse’s saddle.

  “Didn’t expect you till nightfall,” Gabe said. “Guess the bossman didn’t let you kick your heels up too much.”

  Austin snorted. “No, he did not. It’s fine, though. I wanted to get back.” He peered at the landscape around them. “Anything happen while we were gone? I suppose all the tracks got washed away in the storm.”

  Gabe nodded. “If anyone was up here, there’s no way to know now. But nothing’s been disturbed lately that I can see. I haven’t seen any tracks that aren’t ours.”

  “Thanks for the extra set of eyes,” Austin told him.

  “No problem, hermano. Just keep that pistol close. And that shovel, while you’re mining.”

  “I’m not a miner!”

  Gabe grinned. “Says the man with the shovel digging in the dirt every day. Anyway, everyone else knows, so if any asshole gets any ideas about showing up unannounced, he’s going to get an ass full of buckshot for his trouble.”

  Austin grunted. “Don’t kill anyone. I want answers. I want to know who sent them and why.”

  Gabe nodded. “You got it. I’ll aim low.”

  Austin pushed the point of the shovel back into the dirt and continued grading it. He had no idea who’d come up here or why but he knew one thing for certain: Vacation was over and it was time to get back to work, but his little rabbit was a fond memory that would keep him warm at night on the range.

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  Leah hovered over the toilet, on her knees, for the fifth day in a row. The bathroom tile was cool, at least, and if she closed her eyes, she could pretend she was alone in the room, too.

  “I’m going to say it if you won’t,” Candace declared.

  Leah tried to groan in protest but she ended up bringing up the rest of breakfast.

  “You’re pregnant.”

  “I’m not pregnant. It was bad Chinese.”

  “That was over a week ago.”

  “I have a slow metabolism!”

  “Leah, you’re tired. You’re sick all the time. Weren’t you safe with that guy?”

  It had been weeks since that night but Leah still remembered most of it clearly. Her guilty look must’ve given Candace all the answer she needed.

  Candace sighed. “We should’ve gotten you on the pill before now.”

  “Why would I waste money on the pill?” Leah argued. “I admit, I made a mistake. I could’ve ended up with herpes or something. I was drunk and I wasn’t thinking. But I’m not pregnant, now will you knock it off and help me up?”

  Candace obliged, but still looked irritated. She slung an arm around Leah and together they limped out into the hallway. In the living room, she lowered Leah to the couch and stood back up. “I’m going to go to the store and get you some ginger ale and crackers.”

  Leah could only nod, afraid to speak lest she vomit again. She closed her eyes and listened to the whir of the ceiling fan. The constant drone nearly put her to sleep, the first real sleep she’d had in several days. She barely heard the front door open again and only opened her eyes when she heard her friend’s voice.

  “I got you something.”

  “Ginger ale?”

  “Besides the ginger ale.”

  Leah opened one eye. “Is it the number of a lawyer to sue the Chinese place?”

  Candace shook her hand and plopped a plastic sack onto Leah’s chest.

  Leah frowned at it. “What is it?” she asked, not courageous enough to peek inside.

  “Open it,” Candace ordered.

  Leah refused to move.

  “Don’t be a baby—Oops.”

  Leah glared at her.

  “Just open it.”

  Leah rustled the bag and pulled out a shrink-wrapped blue box. She groaned. Loudly. “Not this crap again.”

  “Leah, I’m telling you, get up, go into that bathroom, and don’t come out until you’ve peed on one of those sticks!”

  Too sick and too tired to argue, Leah hauled herself up and trekked to the bathroom with the bag. It all seemed ridiculous and entirely too surreal. When she was finished, she laid the plastic oracle on the sink’s counter and slipped out of the bathroom, where she was beginning to feel too claustrophobic, and headed into the living room where breathing seemed easier.

  “Well?”

  “It takes three minutes!”

  Candace threw up her hands. “Well, I don’t know. I’ve never taken one.”

  “This is a huge waste of time. And money. I’m not pregnant.”

  “How much would you be willing to bet?” asked Candace.

  Leah kept her mouth shut. She’d gambled once before and now she was waiting for the wheel to stop turning. She and Candace stood in silence, running out the clock.

  Candace checked her watch and then glanced at Leah. “Do you want to look?”

  “No!”

  “Do you want me to look?”

  “No!”

  Candace smirked at her. “Do you want to call Shirley next door and have her look?”

  Leah cast her a dirty look.

  “You kids,” Candace said in a gravelly voice, fingers to her lips pretending to smoke a Marlboro, “with your phones. It’s a wonder you can get pregnant what with all that texting.”

  Leah snorted. “Do not call Shirley. And she shouldn’t smoke around the baby anyway.”

  “So you do think you’re pregnant!”

  Leah flopped onto the couch and inspected the waistband of her jeans once again. She had no idea what being pregnant felt like. But she had missed her period and any other reason—the only other possibility—was not one she was going to let herself think about just yet. She couldn’t go down that road again. If that was the case, well…she knew what she had to do.

  “Are you sure it’s been three minutes?” she asked Candace. It seemed like a ridiculous question but time was moving strangely ever since she’d exited the bathroom. For all she knew, she could’ve been sitting here for 3 seconds or 3 years. Swirling thoughts and questions were pounding in her head. Could she afford a baby? How was she going to tell her parents? What would the baby’s l
ast name be?

  Would the baby survive?

  That last one had her stomach twisting in knots so she shook her head fervently, willing the thought away.

  “It’s done, Leah,” Candace said quietly, exchanging her Shirley face for a measured, concerned look. “All you have to do is look. You can’t change it either way. It’s just knowing or not knowing at this point.”

  Leah had spent a lifetime on the razor’s edge of knowing and not knowing, waiting for test results to confirm her worst fears or give her a stay of execution. She was grimly surprised to find she wasn’t more used to it by now. But then again this was entirely new territory. She wiped her hands on her jeans and stood up on shaky legs, echoing the whiskey walk that had gotten her here in the first damn place and stepped into the bathroom.

  Pregnant, not pregnant, that’s all she had to read in the little window.

  Pregnant, her life was about to change.

  Not pregnant, her life would go back to being the same daily grind of work and bills.

  Pregnant, not pregnant.

  Three long minutes.

  Two possible outcomes.

  One incredible night.

  Leah took a deep breath, held it for a long moment then let it out slowly. Then she picked up the stick off the counter.

  “What does it say?” Candace shouted through the door.

  Leah blinked at it. “It says…pregnant.”

  Candace squealed and threw open the door. “It does? Let me see!”

  Leah held it up, underneath the bright, overhead light.

  Pregnant.

  Candace let out a low whistle. “I’m glad I sprung for the one that was easy to read.”

  Out of the bathroom, now seated at the kitchen table, Leah kept staring that the strip, as though it would somehow change to Just Kidding! or Gotcha!

  “Can you believe it?” Candace asked quietly.

  Leah could only shake her head. No. No, she could not believe it.

  “It’s…It’s a mir—”