Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 70488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
A pin drop could be heard throughout the crowded kitchen.
Romina and Candice stared. Harvey, Hampton, and Hux were all frozen solid.
Heidi had her hand covering her mouth.
But Katana?
She was crying silent tears.
“Everyone stop,” I found myself saying. “Katana. Sit.”
Katana sat, luckily before she fell.
“Shaw, outside.”
“I’m not going…”
I put my foot down and stepped in front of him. “Out. Side.”
He went, looking pissed as hell that he was leaving.
No one followed Shaw and me outside.
When we got to the front porch, he had his hands in his hair and he looked wrecked. “I don’t…”
“Shaw, Katana has terminal cancer.”
He whipped his head around. “What?”
“Terminal cancer.” I paused. “Well, kind of.”
“What the hell do you mean kind of?” he barked.
I didn’t flinch at the intensity in his tone.
“Katana has breast cancer. But she doesn’t want to do treatments,” I said. “And she’s a few months pregnant. I guess, with your child.”
His eyes closed. “You’ll have to talk to her more about it. But you can come sit down and listen to what we have to say. And maybe you’ll get some insight.”
“She won’t talk with me there,” he grumbled.
“Then sit in the living room and act like you’re not here,” I said. “Listen. Learn. Then help us break through her hard head.”
He looked sick to his stomach, but followed me back inside.
He took the seat closest to the kitchen that would allow him to hear but not be seen.
I headed back into the kitchen.
“Is he…” Katana started.
“Gone?” I nodded.
She blew out a relieved breath. “I always was going to tell him. I just…I’m scared.”
Of course she was.
“Katana,” Heidi said. “We all just saw what happened. Why would you let him go?”
She covered her face with her hands. “He doesn’t deserve to have to deal with me.”
“Doesn’t deserve?” Hux asked. “How about you let the grown man choose the course of his life. If he was willing to marry you and have your babies, then he’s going to stick by you through this time of your life.”
“But I’m dying,” Katana countered. “Why would I put him through that? It’s best to just let him go than make him have to go through that.”
Since I was the closest to the living room, I heard the creak of the couch behind me.
No one else did, though.
Thankfully.
“You’re dying by choice,” Romina said softly. “You’re only in stage two. That’s very beatable, Katana.”
“I’m pregnant. I have cancer. And I don’t want to go through what my mother went through.”
“You don’t fight this, and you might not make it to the end of your pregnancy,” I pointed out. “You could die before your baby is able to live outside of your body.”
Silence.
“Katana…” I said softly. “Get the mastectomy that they recommended. Do the first round of treatment. Make sure that your baby is healthy. Then go from there.”
She looked at me, tears in her eyes. “You don’t know what it’s like to watch every woman in your family die of a disease, horribly, then find out you have it, too.”
“No,” I confirmed. “I don’t. But I’m not a quitter. And neither are you.”
She closed her eyes and a single tear slipped down her face. “If I get bad enough…” She looked at her cousins. “If I get bad enough, you’ll have to let me go. Don’t let me live like they let them live.”
Heavy boots slammed to the ground and then Shaw was there. “Everyone, get out.”
Everyone got out.
Katana burst into sobs.
Hux caught my arm and led me outside.
Luckily, he grabbed my—his—parka before we got out there.
Blankets emerged from trucks. A fire was started in the fire pit in the middle of the front yard.
Hux held on to me while sitting in the creakiest chair I’d ever experienced.
It was both bittersweet and one of the best nights of my life.
Six years ago, I would’ve never thought that this would be my life.
Six years ago, I was buried so deep in depression that I thought that I might never see the light again.
And six years ago, I couldn’t have prepared for a man like Hux.
But as I fell asleep in his arms, face snuggled under his chin and nose pressed against his throat, I knew that there was nowhere else in this world I’d rather be.
Twenty-Four
I love you in a way that would worry a therapist.
—Hux to Bernice
Hux
I’d just separated the shoulder joint from the rest of the elk’s torso when my phone pinged.
I glanced at it and grinned.
Thinking now was a great time for a break, I shucked my gloves, my apron, and my cap, then headed to the sink to wash my hands.
On the way out the door, I swiped up my phone and jogged quickly toward the back entrance to The Mercantile.
“Well, look who’s here.” My mother clapped. “Would you mind moving some boxes for me?”
I was already shaking my head. “No can do.”