“THIS IS STUPID,” Daniel told Montana as he stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at her. “I don’t want to be here. I want to be out with my friends.”
Montana put down the book she’d been holding and glared right back.
“Wow. Talk about a news flash, because it’s the same thing you said last week and the week before that and the week before that. If you’re really sick of it, why do you keep showing up? What’s the point? Why don’t you forget it? After all, it’s just reading. You don’t need to go to high school and maybe play football. You could drop out and get a job. Oh, wait. You need to read to get a job.”
She reached down to pet Buddy, who’d come over to check on her.
“I’m tired of people not trying and then complaining when things are too hard. I’m tired of people not making an effort. Did it ever occur to you that Buddy here would rather be outside playing with his friends? But he’s not. He’s here to help. Because that’s just the kind of dog he is. And I’m here, too. Do you appreciate that? Do you thank us? Of course not. Because it’s hard. You know what? Sometimes life is hard. You have to learn to shoot a basketball in the hoop before you can be any good at the sport. At first you don’t get it through the basket very often, or even at all. But one day you do and then it gets easier. But only because you put in the work.”
She grabbed the book again. “Here’s the thing, Daniel. I’m not giving up and Buddy’s not giving up and there’s no way you’re giving up, either.”
By the time she wound down, the kid was wide-eyed and looking a little nervous. But he didn’t bolt or call for help, which she took as a good sign.
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I know I’m ranting. It’s just, reading is so important. That’s why we have this program. A friend of mine was burned really bad when he was about your age. He spent nearly five years in a hospital after that, working hard to get better. Now he’s a brilliant doctor and he saves people. My nephew was in a car accident and his face got cut up. That doctor was able to help him. But what if he’d given up? What if he’d decided it was all just too hard?”
“I’m not going to be a doctor,” Daniel mumbled.
“How do you know?”
He stared at her for a long time. “You’re really serious about this.”
“Yes, I am. Are you?”
“I guess I am now.”
He took the book from her and walked over to the beanbag chair. Buddy followed and settled next to him.
Montana slipped out of the room, but stayed within earshot.
Things were pretty bad when she was going off on children, she thought with a sigh. All of a sudden her life seemed complicated and she wasn’t sure how to fix that. She needed a plan or a massage or maybe just a cupcake.
Leaning against the wall, she listened to Daniel’s slow reading. As always, he sounded out each word. The pace was painful and had to be discouraging him, she thought. Maybe she should talk to someone about helping him in a different way. Maybe the dog thing wasn’t working. “There…are…fif…fif…teen…shoes…un…under—” Daniel stopped for a second. “There are fifteen shoes under the bed.”
He read clearly and without hesitating.
Montana straightened but told herself not to get too excited. He might have accidentally memorized the sentence. But even as she tried to be calm, she knew that reading happened like that. One minute there was a collection of individual sounds, the next the sounds became words.
“Fifteen shoes for fifteen boys,” he continued. “Mr. Smith knew everyone would be happy when he told him about the shoes.”
Montana stared at the open door, wondering if she was hearing this right.
Daniel kept on reading. Excitement filled his voice as he continued through the book. Then there was a slam and he came running out of the room.
“I can read!” he yelled. “I’m reading this book. Listen.”
With that, he opened it from the beginning and started the story over. He read through without hesitating, Buddy standing anxiously at his side, as if not sure this was a good or bad development.
Montana grinned. “You did it!”
“It’s like you said about shooting baskets. At first I couldn’t do it at all, but now it’s easier.” He ran down the hall to the cartful of books to be put back on the shelves. He shuffled through them and pulled out a story about a lonely bunny.
“Lonely bunny was all alone,” he read, standing in the middle of the hallway. “All lonely bunny wanted was a friend. But when he hopped down to the pond, the ducks there wouldn’t talk to him. They turned their backs on him and walked into the water, leaving him behind.”
Daniel looked up, his eyes glowing. “I can read.”
Montana grinned. “You sure can. You’ve been practicing and getting better, but you couldn’t see it until now.”
The boy crossed to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Thanks for yelling at me. It really helped.”
“I’ll remember that for next time.”
He laughed and released her, then hurried back to the cart. “Help me find more books, please. I want to take them home and practice. I can read to our cat, right? He’ll just fall asleep, but that’s okay. Then I can surprise my mom.”
Before Montana could get to him, he ran off, yelling for Mrs. Elder, announcing to all who could listen that he could read.
Montana crouched down in front of Buddy and rubbed his face.
“You did good,” she told the worried dog. “You’re a good boy. This is why we do it, right? To help a child learn to read, or to make someone in a nursing home smile. You make a difference in people’s lives and so do I. Butthead men may come and go but we will always have the work we do.”
Buddy regarded her with his solemn stare, then licked her nose.
“Thanks,” she told him. “I love you, too.”
“IF YOU CAN’T DO THE JOB correctly, then get assigned to another department,” Simon said with a growl.
The nurse, obviously fresh out of college, flushed. “Dr. Bradley, I—”
“Have an excuse? I’m sure you do. This is a burn ward. There’s no room for excuses. Mr. Carver had his arm burned by a blowtorch. Until you know what that is like, until you’ve lived through that kind of pain, you’re not allowed to offer excuses. Get off this floor and don’t come back. Do I make myself clear?”
The nurse burst into tears and ran away.
He saw the other nurses watching him, then quietly returning to their work. No doubt he would have to endure all kinds of scurrying and whimpering for the next few days. It always happened when he kicked someone out of his department. But dammit, was it too much to expect people to get their jobs right?
He walked toward his office, aware of people ducking into rooms to avoid him. In this corner of the world, he was a god, and a vengeful one. He was required to give his all and expected the same from those around him. Maybe they hadn’t made the identical deal with the devil, but when they were working with him, they were required to act like it.
He walked into his office and closed the door. As he crossed to his desk he admitted to himself that one of the problems was Montana. He missed her. No, it wasn’t just that he missed her. He’d hurt her.
That damned fundraiser. He didn’t want to go and he didn’t want to take her. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy spending the evening with her, but those kinds of events were so uncomfortable, so awkward. He’d never considered subjecting her to that. But she wouldn’t see it that way. She would come up with some other explanation, because his was too twisted for someone like her to imagine.
He didn’t allow himself a lot of regrets. There was no point. He always regretted losing a patient, even if there was nothing he could have done. But he didn’t regret the choices he made, how he lived, that he was alone. All that was part of the bargain he had accepted years ago. But hurting Montana? He shook his head. That he regretted.
Someone knocked on his door. Before Simon could answer, it opened, and Reese Hendrix stuck his head inside.
“Hey, Dr. B,” he said with a grin. “I’m here to see Kalinda. My grandmother brought me and she said I should ask you first. So is it okay?”
“I’m sure she would be happy to see you.” He motioned for the boy to step into the room, then studied him in the overhead light. “Whoever your doctor was, he did great work.”
Reese laughed. “You know you were the doctor.”
Simon patted him on the shoulder. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll go with you. Cece, Kalinda’s service dog, has been up there for a while. I’ll take her outside for a walk while you two keep each other company.”
Fay was just coming out of her daughter’s room as they approached. For once she didn’t look close to tears. “Hello, Reese. Dr. Bradley, I think she’s doing better. Kalinda wants some ice cream from the cafeteria. I’m going to get it for her. Do you want me get you something, Reese?”
“No, thanks,” he said, ducking around her and entering the room.
“Ice cream is good, isn’t it?” Fay asked. “She hasn’t been hungry in a while.”
“Hunger tells us the body is healing.”
“Her fever is down, too. I’m so relieved.” She smiled and patted him on the arm. “We’re getting through this, thanks to you. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
They would have had someone else, he thought, wondering if that doctor would have cared as much, done as much. In his head he knew whoever had taken care of her would have been just as dedicated, but in his gut, he was less sure. For him, there were no distractions. Only his patients.
At least that’s how it had always been until Montana.
Pushing her from his mind, he entered the hospital room. Reese had already set up the computer game and Kalinda had raised her bed so she could sit up.
“Hey, guys,” he said.
“Dr. B, we’re going to play,” Kalinda told him. “Can we take care of whatever you want later?”
“I’m here to give Cece a bathroom break.”
He turned to the little dog, who was already standing. Cece gazed at him adoringly, her brown poodle eyes bright with affection. As he reached for her, she angled toward him, butt first, in what Montana had explained was her “You can pick me up” position.
He reached under her chest and supported her rear as he lifted. She gave a little push against the bed, as if offering help.
“You weigh six pounds, kid,” he muttered. “I don’t need the help.”
Kalinda giggled. “She does that. She’s very polite.”
Polite or not, what he felt was her quivering excitement as she squirmed to get closer and bathe his face in dog kisses. Her tail thudded against his chest in a frantic, happy rhythm.
Reese glanced up. “She really likes you.”
“So I’ve been told. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Okay.”
Neither kid was paying attention to him anymore, which was how it should be.
He made a quick stop in his office to put Cece into her harness and leash, then carried her outside. He walked to an unused bit of lawn and set her down. She immediately began sniffing around, then peed.
Although he could probably take her back inside, he thought she might like to stretch her legs a little. Montana had brought her by relatively early that morning.
“Are you up to walking around the complex?” he asked.
Cece stared at him, her head tilted as if she were trying to understand. Her tail wagged.
They started down the sidewalk. His plan was to walk the perimeter, including the parking lots and garages. It would probably be close to a mile.
During his early-morning workouts he was careful to watch the news. Current events served as a distraction. But now, with the little dog prancing at his side, there was nothing to keep him from his thoughts.
Despite Fay’s excitement over her daughter’s improvement, he was cautious. She could still take a turn for the worse and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. This was not anything he would share with the emotionally fragile mother. Kalinda might truly be recovering and everything would be fine. Statistically that was the case, although his experience made him wary.
Cece stopped by a tree and sniffed intently. She squatted, peed a couple of drops, then looked at him with an expression that could only be described as satisfied.
“Telling them you were here?” he asked her.
She wagged her tail, then began walking again.
The late-morning air was warm, promising a hot afternoon. Summer in Fool’s Gold was beautiful with plenty of blue skies, and the mountains looming to the east were green.
They continued on their walk, Cece prancing beside him. His thoughts drifted to Montana.
There was no way to avoid what had happened between them. No way to gloss over the fact that he’d hurt her. He’d been stupid to think she wouldn’t notice the fundraiser. Given how much time they were spending together, of course she expected him to ask her.
He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He’d never had to worry much about a woman’s feelings before, he realized. The brief, temporary connections he usually made excluded emotions on both sides. There was mild interest, some conversation and sexual release. Little more.
Montana was different. He finally understood what it meant when people said someone had gotten under their skin. It was more than a cliché—it was a sensation. An ache, a need, an inability to forget or ignore.
He kept seeing her wounded expression, the pain in her eyes. Remembering that made him feel guilty, because he made it a point not to get close enough to wound anyone. He didn’t get involved for a reason. Some of it was because he was always moving on, and some of it was because he didn’t want to feel guilty.
He supposed the logical solution was to simply end things with her. To walk away, complete his time and leave. Simple. Clean. Honest.
But every time he thought about doing that, everything within him rebelled. How could he not spend time with her? Not only because she haunted him, but because of what she’d said while they were having lunch. She no longer saw his scars.
No one had ever done that before. People got used to them, considered them a part of him, but no one had been able to transcend them.
He’d always known she was special, but that simple statement had made him see she was more than that. More than he deserved. And to hurt her without reason, to cause her even a second’s worth of pain would be to violate some of the newfound good in his life.
“Complications,” he muttered.
Cece looked up at him and wagged her tail.
They made their way back to the side entrance, where they’d come down. As they approached the stairs, Cece stopped and assumed the “You can pick me up” position, then gave a little jump as he reached for her.
“You’re a smart little girl,” he said, holding her close.
She gave him a quick lick on the chin, then snuggled against his chest, her paws tucked against his arm, as if it would never occur to her that she would be dropped.
“Such trust.”
He took Cece to Kalinda’s room, thinking he would remove her harness there. As he walked toward the half-open door, he heard soft crying.
“Don’t,” Reese pleaded. “Don’t cry.”
“I don’t want to be like this.”
“They’re just burns.”
Simon stopped, still out of sight but able to hear.
“They’re horrible and they hurt and I’m ugly. I’ll be ugly forever.” The cries got louder and harder. “No one will ever like me. No boy will ask me out. I’ll never get married.”
Simon couldn’t begin to imagine how uncomfortable Reese must feel. He was just about to walk into the room to see if he could help when the boy spoke.
“You’re not ugly and you’ll have lots of friends. Tell you what. If nobody asks you to marry him and you still want to get married, I’ll do it. We can get married.”
“You mean that?”
“Sure. Pinkie promise.”
There was a shuffling sound.
Simon stepped in and saw Kalinda smiling through her tears.
As easily as that, he thought. Because she was just like Cece. She believed and trusted that no one would deliberately hurt her.
He found himself wanting to make sure that trust wasn’t broken. That she would grow up the way Montana had—safe in a world that took care of her.
MONTANA SAT ON THE LAWN at Max’s. The dogs and the new puppies were busy with a complicated game of play that involved jumping over Montana. Or in the case of the puppies, scrambling.
She lay on the warm grass, staring up at the sky, trying to figure out her life. In the past few weeks, a lot of things had disrupted her simple plans.
Max came out of the house and started toward her.
She sat up and studied her boss, taking in his long, easy stride and rugged good looks. He must have been irresistible when he was younger, she thought. Tall and lean and probably more than a little dangerous. Had he really swept her mother off her feet? And if he had, why had Denise chosen to stay in Fool’s Gold and marry Ralph Hendrix?
Not that she was sorry. If her mother had made different choices, none of her children would have been born.
Montana still hadn’t found a way to bring up the issue of her mother. Somehow starting a conversation with her boss by saying, “So, my mom has ‘Max’ tattooed on her hip. Is that you?” didn’t seem to be the shortest road to employee of the month. There was also the not-so-insignificant detail of not being sure she wanted to know any more details.
Max stepped into the fenced enclosure. All the dogs ran toward him, begging for attention. The puppies scrambled after, not sure what the excitement was about, but wanting to be in the middle of it.
Max crouched down and petted as many as he could reach. “You have a delivery.”
“A package? I didn’t order anything.”
“It’s not a package, it’s flowers. Based on the size of them, he must have really screwed up.”
Flowers? She felt herself getting all gooey inside, which was dumb. Yes, the flowers were probably from Simon. He was the only man in her life. But as she had recently learned, theirs was a one-way relationship. While sending flowers was a lovely gesture, it didn’t change reality.
She scrambled to her feet. “What are you talking about? What does size have to do with it?”
Her boss laughed. “Honey, if we’re talking about a guy, size always matters. The bigger the screw up, the bigger the arrangement. Based on the size of these, I would guess he seriously injured a family member.”
“Of course he didn’t,” she said, even as she went through the gate and carefully closed it behind her. She hurried toward the house, which also doubled as Max’s office.
She let herself in the back door. The flowers were in the kitchen. The display was as big as Max had indicated. The vase was at least eighteen inches high with a spray of exotic blossoms reaching toward the ceiling.
She recognized a couple of different kinds of orchids, but after that got completely lost. Her mother would probably know what everything was. The flowers were bright and fresh, with a delicate fragrance that drew her closer. When she spotted the card, she reached for it.
She hesitated before opening the envelope, telling herself there was nothing he could say that would change anything. But she opened it anyway and read the note.
“I’m not very good at this. I’m sorry.”
She frowned at the card, not sure what he meant. He was sorry he wasn’t very good at whatever he was talking about. Or maybe he was saying, “I’m not very good at this and I’m sorry, but it’s over.”
“I would have thought the flowers would’ve made you happy,” Max said.
She held out the card. “You’re a guy, tell me what this means.”
“I don’t have my reading glasses. Tell me what it says and I’ll tell you what it means.”
She read the short message. “And?”
“I haven’t a clue. What did you two fight about?”
“We didn’t fight. It wasn’t like that. I just…” She sighed. “I know he’s leaving. I know this is temporary. I made the mistake of thinking that while he was here, we had an actual relationship. He doesn’t think that.”
“How do you know?”
She told him about the fundraiser and how it had been apparent that Simon had no intention of asking her to accompany him.
“Events like that are exactly what couples go to together. It’s a date thing. If he cared about me at all, he would’ve asked me. I’m an idiot.”
“You’re a lot of things, Montana, but idiot isn’t one of them. From what you’ve told me about this guy, I’d say he has it bad. If he didn’t care about you, why would he apologize? Maybe not asking you to the fundraiser is about him.”
Which was sort of what Nevada had said, she thought, getting irritated at the people around her.
“Why are you taking his side?”
Max walked over to her and put his arm around her, then he kissed the top of her head. “We have officially exceeded my ability to give advice on your love life. I’m not taking his side. I’m suggesting that before you assume he’s a jerk, find out why he didn’t ask you.”
Her boss walked out of the kitchen, leaving her alone with a huge arrangement of flowers and a small, cryptic card. Neither of which offered any answers.
MONTANA WAS FORCED to put the vase of flowers on the floor of her backseat. Even then the very tips of the stems brushed against the ceiling. The flowers dominated her tiny dining alcove as the scent drifted through her small house.
She couldn’t seem to eat much at dinner and spent a restless hour trying to rearrange her closet. A foolish attempt when her mind was elsewhere, wrestling with the problem of Simon.
At seven-thirty, she heard a knock on the door.
She didn’t have to answer it to know who was there. As she approached the door, she still wasn’t sure what she was going to say or how she was going to act.
Simon stood on her porch, dark circles under his eyes. He looked tired. No, that wasn’t right, he looked weary. She found herself wanting to pull him inside and hold him, as if she could somehow pass her strength on to him and heal him.
“I hate events like this,” he began. “They all do it, hold a fundraiser, and I’m the guest of honor. Everyone wants to talk to me. But I’m not the kind of guy who has funny stories appropriate for a cocktail party, and it’s not the kind of place where it’s appropriate for me to discuss the details of my work. I didn’t ask you, because I hate going, not because I wanted to hurt you.”
She stepped back to let him in. He moved past her into the living room, then turned to face her.
“I don’t do this,” he continued. “I don’t get involved. But I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you. It started out as chemistry, pure sexual attraction. I don’t even know what to call it. But it’s different now. It’s bigger and I can’t control it and I can’t not be with you.”
She stared at him, trying to take in all that he had said. For a powerful man who changed lives with the magic of his hands, he looked surprisingly vulnerable. Exposed. As if she could see all of him and he knew and he worried.
With every romantic relationship she’d ever had, she’d worried about not being enough. Had been told she wasn’t enough, time after time. Here was Simon—wonderful and kind and everything a woman could want—and he worried about the same thing. Not being enough. How was she supposed to keep from loving him?
She crossed to him and put her hands on the lapel of his jacket, before pushing it off his shoulders. Catching it as it fell, she draped the garment on the back of her sofa.
He grabbed her arms. “Say something.”
“Thank you for the flowers.”
She raised herself on tiptoe to kiss him. He bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers.
At the first touch, at the first whisper of his breath, she felt herself relax. She would think about his words later, let them heal her, but for now, all she needed was him.
He reached for her, then drew back.
“Don’t you want to talk about what happened?” he asked.
“No.”
She didn’t need to. Not anymore.
He drew her to him again, this time holding on as if he would never let go. His mouth claimed hers in a deep kiss that stirred her very soul. His hands were everywhere—up and down her back, along her arms, cupping her face. She felt his arousal, but more important, she felt his need and responded in kind.
She touched him, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Underneath was a T-shirt and she groaned in impatience as she pushed it up so she could touch bare skin. He undid the zipper at the back of her dress, unfastened her bra with a flick of his fingers, then cupped her breasts.
Heat engulfed them. The wanting grew until it was more powerful than the need to breathe. She was already wet and desperate, her legs shaking.
“Take me,” she whispered against his mouth, her fingers tugging at his belt.
He froze, his body stiff, his eyes locked on hers.
“Take me,” she said again, rubbing her hand against his erection.
For a second, he did nothing. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the bedroom. He jerked open the nightstand drawer so hard, it crashed to the floor. Everything in it went flying, but he found the box of condoms in seconds.
While he opened the box, she pulled off her thong and slid onto the bed. He kicked off his shoes, unfastened his slacks, shoved them down, then joined her.
“Montana, I should—”
“No.”
She reached between them, guiding him to her. The tip of him brushed against her opening and she pulsed forward, pushing up as he slid inside.
He filled her spectacularly, stretching, rubbing, exciting. She wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him in more. His mouth settled on hers, his tongue teasing her to a new level of arousal while his erection did the same to the rest of her body.
Deeper and deeper, faster and faster. She lost herself in the desperate race to her release. She touched him everywhere she could reach, clung to him, pumping her hips as her muscles tightened. He filled her over and over again. With every thrust, her tension rose.
He drew back a little so he could stare into her eyes. She looked back, knowing he saw the pleasure on her face as she saw it on his.
Still watching her, he straightened a little more. Continuing to thrust in and out, he reached a hand between them and rubbed her swollen center. One circle, two, and on the third, she lost herself in her climax, the waves rippling through her, making her shudder and cry out and hang on.
The pleasure went on for what felt like forever, then he gasped and went still, his muscles jerking as he gave himself to her.
Later, when they were both naked and in her bed rather than on it, he stroked her face.
“I don’t understand you,” he said. “You’re not still mad.”
“That’s true.”
“But it’s not the flowers.”
“No. It’s what you said.” Nevada and Max had been right. Simon’s actions had been about him, not her. He hadn’t been making a statement, he’d been trying to protect her.
“I don’t understand.”
She grinned. “You don’t have to.”
“I guess not.” He brushed his fingers across her lips. “It occurs to me that you might not have the same feelings about the fundraiser as I do.”
“That’s true.”
“So you might like to go with me.”
“I might.”
“Will you?”
She would, she realized, go with him anywhere. But that wasn’t the question he’d asked and this wasn’t the time to tell him that.
“I would be delighted to come with you. I’ll do my best to protect you from the worst of it.”
“Even you are not that good.”
She laughed. “We’ll see.”