STEVE WAS AN ATTRACTIVE MAN. Tanned, fit, reasonably intelligent. He had blue eyes, which Denise liked. So far they’d talked about his job as a district manager for a computer parts distributor, the upcoming art festival in town and the weather.
She glanced surreptitiously at her watch and hoped the man sitting across from her didn’t notice. She held in a groan. Had it really just been twenty minutes? Thank God they were only having drinks.
“Do you come here often?” Steve asked.
“To the winery? No, I don’t get here much.” She looked around at the patio. Tables and chairs had been set out. The summer evening was warm, but a light breeze kept the temperature bearable. The mountains were to the east, the vineyard to the west. It was a perfect romantic setting. So why did she feel like banging her head against the table?
“I was reading in the paper that they’re having a good summer for grapes,” she said. “If the favorable weather continues, this is going to be one of those excellent years for California wines.”
She held in her second groan in the past three minutes. Talk about inane conversation.
Maybe it was the setting. Too forced. The truth was, she didn’t have that many places she could go on a first date. Living in Fool’s Gold meant she knew everyone and everyone knew her. Talk about a dating challenge, especially at her age.
“Do you get to Fool’s Gold often?” she asked.
He smiled. “No, but I could change that.”
Oops. She hadn’t seen that coming.
“So business is good?”
He leaned toward her. “Good and getting better. Technology is always changing and people want to keep up. In a lot of industries you have to wait until the equipment breaks. Think about it. Would you replace your washing machine just because there was a new, fancy model?”
“Of course not.”
“Right. No one would. But people think nothing of getting a new phone, just because it’s new. It’s a kind of built-in obsolescence.”
“You sound like you really enjoy your work.”
“I do. I like sales a lot and I really like having access to the newest toys.”
He pulled a slim phone out of his pocket, tapped on the dark surface and showed her the screen. It was a maze of little boxes. Apps—was that the word?
“I’m so the wrong person to try to impress,” she admitted. “I’ve had the same phone for two years. I’m terrified it’s going to stop working and I’ll have to figure out how to use a new one.”
“I could help you,” he said, meeting her gaze.
He was obviously interested, she thought with a sigh. She supposed she should be flattered and she was, a little. But while he was nice to look at and seemed charming enough, there was no…spark.
He was smiling. Denise frowned as she realized there weren’t a lot of wrinkles around his eyes or gray in his dark blond hair.
They’d met last month, when Steve had been in town for some kind of conference. She’d bumped into him at Starbucks. Despite the spilled coffee, he’d been funny and friendly and when he’d asked for her number she’d impulsively given it to him, assuming he was close to her age.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Forty-two.”
Had she been drinking her glass of Merlot, she would have choked.
“I’m more than ten years older than you.” She braced herself for the skid marks he would make as he raced away.
Steve shrugged. “Age is just a number.”
“That’s not what my mirror tells me every morning.”
He leaned toward her again. “Don’t sweat it. I don’t. You’re an attractive, vital woman. Sexually in your prime.”
A second opportunity to choke, she thought, torn between hysterical laughter and the burning need to call one of her children to come rescue her. Sexually in her prime? She’d been dating for a while now and could barely bring herself to kiss a man. Sex was impossible to imagine.
She drew in a breath. “Steve, this has been great,” she began.
“It has. I want to see you again.”
“Why?”
His blue eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I like you, Denise.”
“You’re very nice, too,” she murmured, “but let’s be realistic. Have you been married?”
“Divorced.”
“Any kids?”
“No.”
“Want them?”
“Sure.”
“Exactly. Not to be too blunt, but that ship has sailed. I have six children, the oldest of whom is…” She had to swallow hard. “The oldest is about eight years younger than you.”
“So you were a baby when you got married. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. I have grandchildren. I don’t want to start over with someone. I want…”
She pressed her lips together when she realized she didn’t know what she wanted. The impossible, she supposed. A man who made her heart beat faster, who understood her and her world and found both were exactly what he’d been looking for. A man she could picture clearly, but was taking great pains to avoid.
“It’s been great,” she said, rising to her feet. “Thanks for the drink.”
He stood as well. “You’re leaving?”
“I’m saying goodbye.”
With that she walked through the tasting room and back to her car. But when she got there, she didn’t get inside.
She’d barely had five sips of her wine, so she wasn’t worried about driving. Still, she stood in the fading sunlight and fought back tears.
There were times when she missed her husband so much she thought she would rip apart from the inside out. Times when it had seemed impossible to go on. Today wasn’t one of those, because as she stared out at the mountains, she wasn’t thinking about her late husband.
Ralph hadn’t been the one to bring her here. That had been Max. Dangerous, exciting Max, who rode a motorcycle and had kissed like he meant it. Max who had shown her what it meant to be swept away by passion and love.
He’d left, because that was what men like him did. By then, she’d already met Ralph and realized he was the kind of man she could love her whole life. Being with him had been different from being with Max. There hadn’t been danger at all. Where Max had withheld, Ralph had offered.
He’d given her six beautiful children and the happiest years of her life. He’d been her other half. They’d loved each other faithfully long past his passing.
She got in her car and started the engine. While she didn’t believe there was only one great love in each person’s life, she did believe that a man like Ralph wasn’t likely to come along again. That left her with the choice of accepting second best or simply giving up on the whole dating thing.
She drove out of the parking lot and headed for home. If she hurried, she could still join Kent and Reese for dinner, take Fluffy for a walk and lose herself in the familiar. Wasn’t that better than anything a man had to offer?
“YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO, right?” Montana asked. “You’re clear on the rules?”
Reese looked at her with a combination of patience and pity. “We’ve been over the rules three times.”
Probably a good enough answer, she thought. “I’m nervous.”
They were in the hospital elevator, going up to see Kalinda. Montana had left Cece at Max’s place, thinking it would be easier to only deal with Reese for now.
When they exited the elevator, Reese stopped and looked at her. “I’m not going to say anything bad. I promise. I know she looks different and maybe seeing her will scare me a little. But I’ll get over it. I don’t know how she’s feeling, but I’m not a little kid. I know she feels bad.”
“Look at you,” Montana said, feeling impressed. She hugged her nephew. “You’re growing up.”
“Six more years until I get my license.” He grinned. “I know how many days, even.”
She winced. “You probably don’t want to mention it to your dad. I think knowing how close you are to driving would give him a heart attack.”
Reese laughed.
They walked toward the burn unit. Once they were inside, she led the way to Kalinda’s room. Fay met them at the door.
“She’s a little tired,” Fay said by way of greeting. She looked more cautious than excited and Montana suspected she was having second thoughts.
“Are you sure about this?” Fay asked.
Montana glanced at Reese, who nodded.
“Okay, then.”
He drew in a breath and stepped into the room. Without hesitating, he walked up to the bed and smiled. “Hi. I’m Reese. You’re Kalinda, right?”
She was half sitting in her bed, only a few strands of blond hair sticking out from white gauze. Her bandages were in place on her face and arms. The parts of her neck and cheeks they could see were raw. The smell of medicine and sickness seemed to linger in the air, fighting with the scent of antiseptic.
When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Montana told me you can’t get up and move around a lot. I guess that’s why you want a small dog visiting you. My dad and I just got a dog a few weeks ago. Fluffy would sure make a mess of things in here.” He smiled again. “She’s real friendly, but she doesn’t get how big she is. She practically knocks me over with her tail and you should see what she did to the glass dishes on my grandma’s coffee table.” He frowned. “Montana, didn’t Fluffy come to the hospital?”
Now it was her turn to be uncomfortable. “Just the one time. Accidentally.”
Kalinda surprised her by giggling. “I remember. I saw her. Dr. Bradley was mad.”
“He sure was.” She didn’t like thinking about their first meeting. Not that he was any happier with her today.
“Do you like Dr. Bradley?” Reese asked. “I was in a car accident and he did the stitches.” He pointed to the small bandage on his cheek. “He doesn’t think I’m going to have a scar, which is okay, I guess. I wouldn’t mind if I did. I think scars are interesting.”
Kalinda turned away, then looked back. “I have scars. Or I’m going to.”
Reese’s expression turned sympathetic. “Does it hurt a lot?”
The girl nodded. “They give me stuff for the pain. It makes me sleepy. A barbecue exploded. I caught fire.”
Reese pulled up a chair and sat down. “Like on TV? But not in a good way.”
“Just like that.”
Montana backed out of the room. Fay stood with her in the hallway.
“She’s talking to him,” Fay whispered. “I didn’t think she would. I thought she’d tell him to go away. This is good, right?”
“I think so. It’s a form of normal.”
There was that word again—the one that always made her think of Simon. Not that she needed much help in that department. The man was always on her mind.
“Thank you for suggesting this,” Fay told her. “I’m going crazy here, watching her suffer, knowing there’s nothing I can do to help.”
“You’re with her. That means everything.”
“I hope so.”
Reese came to the door. “Do you have any games we can play? Kalinda’s hands aren’t burned too bad, so she could use a joystick or control.”
“Or you could play a board game,” Montana told him.
He sighed heavily. “Yeah, that would be great.”
Fay laughed. “You’re just like my daughter. I did bring in her Playstation 2. Does that sound better than a board game?”
“Lots.” He grinned. “I know how to hook it up to the TV and everything.”
Fay excused herself.
Montana was left standing alone in the hallway. She decided she would find a waiting area close by and read. An hour should give the kids enough time to enjoy the game without tiring Kalinda too much.
She started toward the nurses’ station only to turn the corner and nearly run into Simon. They both came to a stop.
He was as tall as she remembered, and the right side of his face was just as perfect. She barely noticed the scars, except that she knew they were significant to him.
“Montana.”
“Hi. I brought my nephew to visit with Kalinda. So far it’s going well. They’re playing video games.”
One dark eyebrow rose. “That sounds like it will be fun for her. Good. We don’t want her getting depressed. It interferes with healing.” He cleared his throat. “I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to speak to you about something. Several children will be by the hospital tomorrow to get out their stitches. If the first one starts crying, it upsets the rest and the morning goes badly. I was wondering if you could bring a service dog by to distract them.”
She nodded, even as she thought about her schedule. “Of course. What time?”
“Nine-thirty. For about two hours.”
“I don’t have any appointments with the dogs until afternoon. I’ll bring one of the bigger dogs. That’ll make more of a diversion.”
“Good.”
He sounded so formal. Distant, even. That was her fault. She’d been the one to cross the line.
She reached out and touched his arm. The fabric of his white coat was smooth under her fingers.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “About what I said before. It’s not my place to tell you what to believe or how to live your life. I barely know you. I was trying to show you something and I got it all wrong. I apologize for hurting you or offending you or whatever it is I did.”
His expression gave nothing away. “And if I say it was nothing?”
“I won’t believe you, but I won’t argue.”
“You like to argue.”
“No, I don’t.” She stopped and sighed. “I don’t mean to like it.”
“Then that changes everything.”
She studied him, trying to figure out what he was thinking. “Are you mad?”
“No.”
“Do you hate me?”
“No.”
Do you still want me?
She didn’t speak those words. Her courage only took her so far.
“Do you forgive me?” she asked instead.
“Yes.”
She smiled. “Thank you for saying that, instead of telling me there was nothing to forgive. I really am sorry.”
He raised his hand as if he were going to touch her face, then lowered it back to his side. Disappointment swelled inside her. Terrified she’d blown it, she didn’t know what to say. How was she supposed to ask a man to want her again?
RESTLESS FROM HER ENCOUNTER with Simon, Montana decided what she needed was a good book to distract her. An evening curled up on the sofa reading would make her feel better. When she was done with work, she swung by Morgan’s Books.
As usual, the place was busy, with a dozen or so people browsing and chatting. The scent of fresh coffee filled the air, along with the distinctive and delicious smell of brownies. Morgan’s daughter Amber must have come by with a fresh batch from her bakery.
Montana waved to people she knew and headed for the romance section. Her love life was in the toilet, but there was no reason not to live vicariously through others, she told herself. She scanned the shelves, looking for a book that fit her mood, and stopped in front of a red book with a picture of a woman on the cover.
“Visions of Magic,” she murmured, studying the flame tattoo on the woman’s back. She’d never read Regan Hastings before, but was intrigued.
She reached for the book, only to bump hands with someone else.
“Sorry,” she said, stepping back and turning. “Oh, hi.” She recognized the curvy blonde as new to town. “Heidi, right?”
The woman, about her age, but much prettier, smiled. “Yes. And you’re one of the triplets. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you apart yet.”
“Montana.”
“Right.” She tilted her head, as if studying Montana and hoping to find a difference.
Montana grinned. “If it helps, Dakota is pregnant, so for the next few months she’ll be easy to find.”
“Great. Thanks for the tip.”
Heidi had golden blond hair she wore in two braids and large green eyes. Green eyes that made Montana think about Simon, which she didn’t want to do.
“You and your grandfather bought the Castle Ranch outside of town, right?”
“That’s us.”
“How are you settling in?”
“We’re figuring it out as we go. The house needs a complete renovation. I don’t think anyone has lived in it for a while.”
Montana tried to remember who had lived there last. “Old man Castle died ages ago. Maybe twenty years or so. I can’t remember. He had a family living there. The mom was the housekeeper and her three boys worked the ranch. It wasn’t much, even then. I don’t know what happened after that. When he passed away, the family left. There was talk of someone from back East inheriting, but no one ever showed up.”
“The place looks like it.” Heidi wrinkled her nose. “I remind myself I’ve lived in worse. At least the plumbing and electricity work and the roof will last another couple of years, but seriously, when was the last time you saw an avocado-green stove?”
Montana laughed. “Once. In the movies.”
“If you want to see the real thing, let me know. I have one.”
Montana hadn’t heard much about Heidi and her grandfather. “Are you running cattle on the ranch?”
Heidi shook her head. “No. I’m not big into cows. There are a few roaming around. They’re wild or feral or whatever it is cows get when no one is around to take care of them.” She paused. “I have a few goats I milk and I use the goat milk to make cheese.”
Goats? “Your name is Heidi, you live with your grandfather and you have goats?”
Heidi laughed. “The irony is not lost, believe me. The difference is Glen, my grandfather, is very friendly, so I won’t have to act as a liaison between him and the villagers.” She glanced around the bookstore. “I’ll bet Morgan has a copy here. When was the last time you read Heidi?”
“I think my mom read it to me and my sisters when we were pretty little. Wasn’t there a girl in a wheelchair?”
“I sort of remember that.” Her smile faded. “My mom read it to me, too. It’s a good memory.”
Sadness replaced humor and Montana had the feeling Heidi had lost her mother a long time ago. Having suffered through the death of her father, she knew what that was like.
“Do you get to town much?” she asked. “We have a girl’s night out, or sometimes in, every few weeks. Just a bunch of us getting together to talk. If you want to give me your number, I can let you know when the next one is and you can join us.”
“I’d like that.”
Montana pulled out her cell phone and took Heidi’s number.
“Are you and your grandfather okay out there by yourselves?”
The humor returned to Heidi’s expression. “Despite the hideous appliances, we’re doing great. This is the first real home we’ve ever had. We always traveled around a lot. I can’t tell you how good it feels to finally be settled. We have a lot of plans for the ranch.”
“I take it they don’t include cows.”
“Probably not. But I want to expand my herd. I plan to create a cheese empire.” She laughed. “Plus, we’re both really loving Fool’s Gold. Everyone is so friendly and welcoming. And in an unexpected turn of events I can’t decide if I’m okay with or not, my grandfather is quite the hit with the ladies of a certain age.”
Montana wasn’t surprised. The man shortage had been mitigated by several new businesses and lots of guys moving to town, but few of them had been past middle age.
“It’ll keep him young,” Montana told her.
“As long as I don’t walk in on him having his way with one of them, I’m good with it.”
Montana reached for the Regan Hastings book and grabbed two copies. “Let me buy you this. Sort of a welcome-to-town gift.”
“Wow. This is why I love it here. Let me just announce to the universe, I’m never leaving. Wind, snow, a herd of locusts, I’ll outwit them all.”
“I like that—a plan. Did you know that Fool’s Gold was originally settled by a group of Mayan women? They called themselves the Máa-zib. It means something like few men. I heard they kept men as love slaves.”
Heidi grinned. “Don’t you miss the good old days?”
“All the time.”
MONTANA TOLD HERSELF not to be excited about the clinic with Simon. Kids were getting their stitches out—that was hardly a reason for her to want to break into song. The thing was, she was far more tingly about seeing him again than thinking about kids, which probably made her a bad person.
“Something else I have to work on,” she told Buddy as she opened the back door of her car, stepping to the side so he could jump out.
Buddy looked at her, a faintly worried frown pulling his doggie eyebrows together.
She’d debated which dog would be right for the event, and had settled on Buddy. Children sensed he was a worrier and spent their time reassuring him. Focusing on something else was probably a good thing. Plus, he was big enough for the little ones to lean on and he always loved a heartfelt hug.
As they made their way to the clinic, she reminded herself that she was here in a professional capacity. She should be grateful that Simon trusted her and her dogs to assist him.
“Not technically,” she added to Buddy as they went in through the main doors. “I don’t think removing stitches would be something you’d do well. No offense.”
Buddy glanced at her as if to say none was taken.
They made their way to the clinic. Buddy’s service dog vest allowed them to pass through the various departments with hardly a second glance.
As she approached the nurses’ station, she was greeted by an efficient-looking nurse in her forties.
“Dr. Bradley said you would be here.” She smiled cheerfully. “He’s been telling me what a difference your service dogs can make. I’m looking forward to seeing this one in action.”
She reached out and petted Buddy, who responded calmly, wagging his tail. But his frown deepened as if he was concerned about the added pressure.
Montana was more confused by Simon saying nice things about her. Obviously he understood the dogs could help—otherwise, why bother inviting her? But to talk to someone else about what she did was unexpected.
The nurse showed her to a small examining room. A tray sat on the counter. Although it was covered, she imagined all sorts of shiny, sharp medical tools and instantly understood why the waiting children would be apprehensive.
She glanced around, taking in the padded table where the patients would sit, the extra chairs on the side of the room, the bright overhead lights. Not exactly a friendly setting.
The door opened and Simon stepped in. She felt an instant surge of excitement, hope and, well, lust.
“Good morning,” he said briskly. “Thank you for coming to the clinic.”
His impersonal words, the way he barely glanced at her, deflated her anticipation.
“We’re happy to help. This is Buddy.”
Simon surprised her by crouching so he was eye level with the dog. “Nice to meet you, Buddy.” He rubbed the dog’s ears. Buddy perked up at the attention.
“He’s very friendly,” she said as Simon straightened. “But he always looks concerned. Kids respond to that by reassuring him. I thought that might distract them.”
“A good idea.”
She might as well have been anyone on the staff, she thought sadly. Apparently he’d recovered from his need to be with her. No more kissing for her.
The nurse stuck her head in. “They’re ready, Doctor.”
“Give me a couple of minutes and send the first one in.”
“Sure.”
She stepped out.
Simon crossed to the sink and washed his hands. When he was done, he dried them, then pulled on gloves. “It doesn’t take long to remove stitches. Assuming no complications, we should be out of here in about an hour. Would you like to go get coffee with me?”
She was so busy being sad, she almost missed the invitation. “I have Buddy,” she said, stumbling over the words.
“The Starbucks has outdoor seating.”
“Right. Um, sure. That would be nice.”
“Good.”
The first patient was brought into the room.
Her name was Mindy and she was twelve years old. Simon explained that she’d been cut by flying glass when a neighborhood kid had thrown a baseball through a plate-glass window. She had stitches along her jawline and down the side of her neck.
“That must have been scary,” Montana said as Mindy hugged Buddy.
“It was. There was blood everywhere.” She sounded both horrified and proud.
“We’re still getting it out of the carpet,” her mother joked.
Mindy climbed on the table. Simon pulled a chair up next to it and motioned for Buddy to jump up on the chair. Mindy wrapped her arms around him, while keeping the stitches facing Simon.
“What are you going to do this weekend?” he asked, as he began to snip the stitches.
Montana had never seen him work before and was impressed by how quickly he removed each stitch. There was a sureness in his movements. Utter confidence.
“We’re going to the Summer Festival,” Mindy said, her face turned away. “We go every year. It’s one of my favorites, although I like all the stuff we do at Christmas, too.”
“I’ve never been to Summer Festival.”
Shocked, she looked at him. “You have to go. It’s the best. There are rides and booths and elephant ears.”
“What are elephant ears?”
Her eyes widened. “They’re delicious. All warm, with powdered sugar.”
“They go right to my thighs,” her mother murmured.
“Ow.”
Simon’s fingers never slowed. “We’re almost done.”
Tears filled Mindy’s eyes. “Can you stop now?”
Buddy gently whimpered and pressed the top of his head against her chest.
She turned her attention to the dog. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”
“We’re done,” Simon told her.
Mindy looked startled. “That was quick. It didn’t really hurt that much. I was surprised is all.”
Her mother moved close and studied the work. “It barely shows and it’s not even finished healing.”
Simon nodded. “I’m not expecting her to have a scar. You have the instructions for what to do as soon as the scab falls off?”
“Yes.”
Mindy stared at her mother. “So I’ll still be pretty?”
Simon helped her down from the table. “You’re already beautiful. I don’t think there’s anything I could do to make you more beautiful. I’m not that talented.”
Mindy beamed at him, then hugged him. “Thank you. I was scared but this wasn’t bad at all.”
“I’m glad,” he told her with a smile.
He was so different with his patients, Montana thought. More himself—open and giving. It seemed that was the only place he allowed himself to relax. The rest of the time there was a wall between him and the world.
Mindy and her mother left. The nurse let in a small boy accompanied by a woman Montana would swear she recognized from the social services office. The boy had cuts all over his face and dozens of stitches.
Simon immediately dropped to a crouch and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Hello, Freddie.”
“Hi.”
The boy’s voice was soft and high-pitched. He was probably six or seven, skinny and small boned.
“I heard about your aunt coming to get you.”
Freddie’s mouth turned up but he didn’t actually smile. It took Montana a second to realize that because of all the cuts and stitches, he couldn’t.
“The judge said she could and she’s taking me back to Hawaii.” Freddie looked at the social worker. “My cousin Sean is my best friend, but Dad said I couldn’t see him anymore. Now I can.”
Simon motioned for Buddy to approach. “My friend Montana brought in a very special dog. His name is Buddy. He’s kind of scared to be in the hospital but when I told him about you, he wanted to visit anyway.”
Humor twinkled in Freddie’s eyes. “You can’t talk to dogs.”
“I’m a doctor, young man. I can do anything.” Simon turned to the dog. “Buddy, are you nervous?”
Buddy’s eyebrows drew together even more and he whimpered.
“Whoa.” Freddie looked impressed. “Okay, Buddy. Thanks for wanting to come see me.”
Buddy held out a paw to shake.
Simon helped the boy onto the table. This time Buddy jumped in the chair without being asked. Freddie put an arm around him and the dog leaned close.
Simon went to work. Unlike the last time, there were no tears, no requests to stop. Freddie flinched a few times, but otherwise he was completely stoic.
Montana realized Freddie had been through this before and wondered what could have happened to him. Why was he having more surgeries? Except for the lines from the cuts, he didn’t look deformed.
After Freddie there were three more children. When they were finished, Simon escorted Montana and Buddy out of the hospital.
“I have an idea,” she said. “Would you get us our coffee and I’ll meet you there in a second?”
Simon nodded. “Of course.”
While he walked toward the center of town, she and Buddy headed for her car. Fifteen minutes later, coffee in cupholders, they were driving up the mountain.
“We’re not going far,” she told him. “I know this beautiful meadow where we can talk and Buddy can run around.”
Simon reached back and patted the dog. “You’ve earned a romp.”
She pulled off the road and into a makeshift dirt parking lot. After letting Buddy out, she grabbed a blanket from the back and led the way to a meadow.
The sun was warm, the grassy area dotted with small flowers. The hum of insects mingled with birdsongs and the soft breeze. It was a perfect kind of morning in a perfect kind of place. She spread out the blanket and motioned for Simon to sit.
“Tell me about Freddie,” she said when he settled. “How did he get hurt?”
“His father. He cut him. This wasn’t the first time.”
Montana stared at him. “I don’t understand.”
“Not all parents are like yours. Some have mental or emotional problems. Some are just cruel. Freddie’s father would tie him up and then cut him with a hunting knife. His back, his chest. This is the first time he went to work on his face.”
Her chest was tight and she found it difficult to breathe. Her eyes burned. Rather than give in, she looked past Simon to where Buddy chased a butterfly—for once having fun rather than worrying.
“Why wasn’t Freddie taken away from him before now?”
Simon shrugged. “The kid didn’t say how it happened and he slipped through the cracks.”
“What kind of parent does that?”
“The bad kind. It happens more than you would think.”
Her gaze shifted to his scars as an impossible thought formed. Had one of Simon’s parents been responsible for his burns?
“I can’t believe something like that would happen in Fool’s Gold,” she whispered, because she was too afraid to ask.
“It happens everywhere, but if it makes you feel better, Freddie and his father have only been in town a few months. The E.R. staff figured it out immediately and called social services. Freddie was taken away from his father that day.”
“I’m glad. I hope he’s locked up for a long time.”
“Me, too.”
“I guess you see a lot of awful things.”
“How the wounds happened is sometimes worse than the injury itself.”
“Can you ever forget it? Does the reality haunt you?”
“I’m used to it.”
She was sure that someone in his position would have to find a way to disconnect. To compartmentalize. Still, when he was alone, there must be ghosts.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this.” He sipped his latte, then looked at her over the lid. “You don’t need to know.”
Simon should have looked out of place in his suit slacks and shirt and tie. Instead he was as relaxed as he’d ever appeared. The only place she’d seen him completely comfortable before was the hospital.
“I’m not as innocent as you think,” she told him.
He smiled. “Sure you are. You’re the kind of girl who wants to fall in love.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“No.”
Meaning not him. “You’ve never been in love?”
“Not even once.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Why? I’m content.”
“Don’t you want to be happy?”
“Happiness is elusive. My work is enough.”
She knew he was wrong, but didn’t think there was any point in telling him that.
“Why aren’t you married?” he asked.
She took a moment to adjust from interviewer to interviewee. “No one has ever asked. I’ve had a couple of serious boyfriends, but they both left. They weren’t in love with me. I wasn’t…” She shrugged. “I wasn’t enough for them. One cheated and one just broke it off. The last one kept saying I would be ‘perfect’ if I changed my clothing style, or hair cut, or makeup. It was starting to seem like a never ending list of how I could be better.”
She did her best to speak the words as if the truth didn’t hurt her.
“They were fools.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not being polite, Montana. You are the kind of woman men dream about having.”
His statement left her breathless.
“Even you?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“Especially me.” His gray-green eyes darkened. “If I was looking for something permanent.”
“Right.”
“And you’re the kind of woman who is looking for forever.”
She didn’t want to agree, but couldn’t seem to keep herself from nodding.
“I go to Peru in a few weeks. Then on to somewhere else.” He looked at his coffee, then at her. “I could come back, to visit.”
“But not to stay.”
“No,” he said with finality. “Not to stay.”