Some kind of dress would be good, she thought, looking through her options. She had a simple blue one that was sleeveless and slightly fitted. The long zipper down the back would make the undressing part of the evening simple. Although, based on how Simon had managed her bra with a quick touch of his fingers, she probably shouldn’t worry about clothing complications.
Still smiling at the thought, she dressed, then checked her makeup. She was wearing enough to make her eyes look bigger, but not so much that she would smear it all over him. Shoes weren’t going to be a problem. She would be barefoot.
A quick glance at the clock confirmed she still had an hour to wait. Anticipation danced in her stomach. Maybe she could call him and suggest he arrive earlier. Or she could—
Her cell phone rang. As she grabbed it, she saw Simon’s name on the screen.
“I was just thinking about you,” she said by way of greeting.
“Montana, I can’t come over. There’s been an accident.”
She sank onto her sofa. “Not with you.”
“No. A guy on a motorcycle. He’s going into surgery now. He has internal injuries. When they’re done, I need to work on his face.” He drew in a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“I wouldn’t have canceled except—”
“Simon, you don’t have to explain. This is what you do. Saying you have to help someone isn’t unreasonable.”
“You’re not angry.”
“No. Wildly disappointed, but not angry.”
“Good. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to get out of our evening.”
“Sex,” she teased. “You mean sex.”
“I do mean sex.”
She thought about how he’d touched her. “I’m pretty sure you were looking forward to that. I’m okay with waiting.”
“As long as it’s not too long.”
“Sooner would be better than later,” she told him.
There was a pause. “I have to go. I’ll call you when I can.”
“I hope he’ll be okay.”
“Me too.”
Then he was gone. Montana sat there for a few seconds and then stood. It looked like this wasn’t going to be a G-string night after all.
She walked into her bedroom and changed her clothes. She’d barely slipped on sandals when the phone rang again. She saw a different man’s name on the screen.
“Is it time?” she asked breathlessly.
“It’s time,” Raoul shouted. “It’s time. She’s in labor.” His voice was thick with panic. “She’s too damn calm. We’re going to the hospital. You’ve got the list, right? There’s a list. You know what to do?”
“Breathe,” she instructed. “We all know what to do. I’m calling my mom first. She’ll be there in less than ten minutes. If I don’t get her, I’ll come over and stay with Peter until she’s available.”
Pia and Raoul weren’t just expecting twins—they’d also adopted a ten-year-old boy. Denise had promised to stay with him when Pia went into labor.
“Okay. Good. One of the neighbors will be here until then.” He swore again. “I gotta go. Pia’s in labor.”
Montana grinned. “I got that part. Go on. I’ll make the calls and we’ll all meet you at the hospital. Oh, and tell her I love her.”
“I will. I’m hanging up now.”
“You do that.”
The phone clicked.
For a guy who had guided an NFL team to a Super Bowl championship, Raoul sure was flustered. She guessed childbirth had a way of doing that to a person.
She quickly called her mother. Denise answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Pia’s finally in labor.”
“Thank goodness. She’s been desperate for weeks. I’m all packed. I’ll head over to their house right now.”
“Great. I’m going to make calls and then go to the hospital.”
“Keep me informed.”
“I promise.”
Denise laughed. “I can’t wait to hear if they’re boys or girls. It’s going to be a good day.”
“It is, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey.”
Montana hurried to the living room. The call list was sitting on the coffee table. She started dialing.
“IF IT’S TWINS, does it take twice as long?” Nevada asked.
Montana laughed. “I don’t know and I’m not sure I want to. Labor would be the same, wouldn’t it? I guess the delivery would be different.”
They were sitting in a waiting area on the maternity floor. Other families gathered together, talking, anticipating their own miracle, but Pia’s group was the largest. Mayor Marsha was already there, as were Charity and Josh Golden and their baby. Montana’s brother Ethan was there with his wife, Liz. The girls and Tyler had been left at home.
Food had been spread out on the various tables, and a cooler filled with water bottles and soda stood in the corner. The other people waiting had been invited to eat and drink. The atmosphere was more like a party than a hospital setting. Something Pia would have appreciated.
“Did I tell you Dakota called?” Montana asked.
Her sister shook her head. “Is she coming?”
“As soon as she gets Hannah to sleep. Finn is going to stay home with Hannah.”
Denise came in with a redheaded boy at her side. Montana stood and walked over to them.
“Peter,” she said, giving him a hug. “You doing okay?”
The boy looked more curious than worried, which was probably a good thing. He’d been through a lot, losing his birth parents in a horrible car accident. He was the only one who’d survived. After a couple of years of foster care, he’d found a home with Pia and Raoul. Now he was about to get a couple of baby brothers or sisters. Or possibly one of each.
He hugged her back. “I wanted to see,” he told her, looking both defiant and a little embarrassed.
“He was concerned that we were all worried,” Denise said, resting her hand on Peter’s shoulder. “And hiding it from him.”
“I love Pia,” he said simply. “I want her to be okay.”
“We all want that,” Montana told him, taking him by the hand and leading him over to the table.
He picked a peanut butter cookie and took a bite. “So she’s okay?”
“We haven’t heard any differently.”
There was no point in discussing the possible complications of childbirth. Statistically Pia was going to be fine. Montana didn’t see the point in worrying a ten-year-old needlessly.
“Do you think Raoul is scared?”
Montana laughed. “I’m sure he’s terrified. You’re an easy kid to have around, but babies are small and helpless and they can’t tell you what’s wrong.”
Peter nodded. “I guess I’ll have to help. You know, be a big brother.”
She wrapped her arm around him. “My parents appreciated my big brothers helping with me and my sisters.”
Dakota arrived a few minutes later. Mayor Marsha claimed Peter and sat chatting with him. Denise shared a sofa with her daughters.
“You’ll be next,” she said, smiling at Dakota.
Dakota touched her still flat stomach. “I’m not due until early March, Mom. We’ve got a ways to go.”
“Still. I’m very excited.”
Nevada sighed. “I’m feeling pressure.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Denise said.
“You didn’t have to.”
Denise looked at Montana. “Do you feel pressure, too? I don’t want you to. While it would be nice to have more grandchildren, if you’re not interested in starting a family or in carrying on the Hendrix tradition, I’m fine with that.” She paused and drew in a deep breath. “My heart will mend eventually.”
Montana looked at Nevada. “Pressure? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A doctor came into the waiting room. Everyone turned toward her, but she walked to another family.
Dakota heard Mayor Ma
rsha telling Peter, “Pia thought she would get the cat instead.”
The boy laughed. “I’m glad she didn’t. We have a dog now. Dogs are better than cats.” He glanced around the room, then added, “You can play with a dog. Cats like to sleep a lot.”
“So I’ve heard,” Marsha told him.
Montana listened in on other conversations. Moments like these reminded her why she loved living in Fool’s Gold. This was more than a small town—it was a real community. People took care of each other. She knew that when Pia went home, women would bring her all kinds of casseroles. That she wouldn’t have to cook for at least a month.
She knew that mothers and grandmothers would stop by regularly to offer advice and free babysitting so Pia could nap or take a walk. Raoul would find himself drawn into the lives of those around him in ways he didn’t expect. She liked being a part of this—having a place she could depend on. Fool’s Gold wasn’t like other places. Living here meant belonging.
Raoul stumbled into the waiting room. Everyone stopped talking and looked at him.
The normally handsome former football player still wore scrubs. His hair was mussed, his gaze unfocused. He glanced around, as if not sure where he was.
He saw Peter and grinned at the boy.
“Girls,” he said at last. “We have two girls. They’re so beautiful. Perfect. I don’t know how I got so lucky. First you and now these girls—Adelina Crystal and Rosabel Dana, in honor of Keith and Crystal Danes. Our friends will live on in our daughters.”
As one, everyone stood and rushed toward him. There were cheers and hugs and calls of congratulation. Montana made sure her mom was with Peter, then slipped out of the room. It would be a while before anyone could see Pia or the babies. She wanted to check on Simon.
She made her way to surgery and stopped at the nurses’ station. The older woman there glanced up from her computer screen.
“How can I help you?” she asked pleasantly.
“I’m checking on Dr. Bradley. He’s in surgery. Do you know how long he’s going to be?”
The nurse’s smile faded. “He’s not in surgery this evening. Would you like me to page him?”
Montana opened her mouth, then closed it. Not in surgery? But he’d said…
She swallowed. “No, thank you.”
She turned away. Heaviness settled on her chest.
Simon had lied. She couldn’t believe it, except there was no other explanation. Obviously he’d had second thoughts. He’d changed his mind about sleeping with her, but rather than tell her, he’d made up some stupid story.
Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry. It was bad enough that she’d been willing to give herself to him without even the hint of a relationship. She wasn’t going to make it worse by wasting tears on him.
She turned to leave, then shook her head. No. She wasn’t simply going to walk away. Dr. Stick-Up-the-Butt might think his behavior was okay, but she was going to let him know it wasn’t. She might not be sophisticated or elegant or whatever it was he usually went for, but she wasn’t going to let him treat her like this. Not without telling him exactly what she thought of him.
CHAPTER NINE
MONTANA FOUND SIMON on the burn ward. He stood outside of Kalinda’s room, the door slightly open. He didn’t look up as Montana approached.
“Fay went home to shower and get some clean clothes,” he said quietly, studying the sleeping girl. “There will be another surgery in a couple of days. She’s healing well.”
Montana stared at him. “That’s it?” she asked, keeping her voice low so as not to wake the girl.
Kalinda and the other patients were the only reason she wasn’t screaming. And possibly hitting. Ethan and Kent had made sure she and her sisters knew exactly how to punch so that it hurt.
Simon glanced at her, frowning slightly. “What else did you want me to say?” he asked. “She’s—”
He swore under his breath. “You came to check on me.”
“No,” she said, firmly. “I came because a friend is having a baby. Then I decided to check on you.”
“It’s not what you think. I didn’t change my mind. There was a patient—”
She put her hands on her hips and put as much energy into the glare as possible. In a perfect world he would turn to mush and melt right there on the hospital floor.
“I wasn’t in surgery because I didn’t get the chance to operate. He died before I started.”
Montana opened her mouth, then closed it. Her mind went blank, which was probably better than the guilt she was going to feel any second.
Simon took her hand and pulled her down the corridor. He drew her into an empty room.
“I’m sorry,” she said, facing him. “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst.”
“Why not? You don’t know me well enough to think otherwise.”
The room was dark, the hospital bed stripped of sheets, the blinds on the window open to the night. His forgiveness unnerved her. She’d thought he would get angry, rather than understand.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Losing him like that must be hard.”
He shrugged. “I never saw him. He died before I got started. Sometimes it happens like that. It’s not always my job to save them from death. I’m there to make them look as normal as possible. There are limits to what it means to fit in.”
Although he was looking at her, she had a feeling he didn’t see her. He was staring at something else—something from his past.
Was he talking about himself when he mentioned fitting in? Yet he wore his scars like a badge of honor. Or were they a reminder?
She raised her hand and rested her fingers on his cheek. The spiraling marks were raised and hard. He pressed his hand on top of hers, as if holding her in place.
“They’re not just here,” he said, his gaze more intense. “They go down my neck and across my chest. There are a few on my back and my arm.”
She didn’t know what to say, what he needed from her. Telling him she wouldn’t have minded didn’t seem to be enough.
“You don’t have to worry,” he continued. “You wouldn’t have seen them. If we’d made love tonight, I would have kept on a T-shirt. It’s easier.”
“Easier for who?”
“Both of us.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted it to be easier. Seeing him was a part of being intimate. Or maybe that’s what he didn’t want. He didn’t want to be seen. Not fully.
If that was true, who had hurt him? Who had taught him it was better to conceal the truth? Or had he decided that by himself?
She found herself wanting to see the scars, to touch them. Ridiculous, she told herself. It wasn’t as if she could heal him.
He lowered his hand and she did the same. Still staring into his eyes she said, “My friend Pia just had twins. Girls. That’s why I’m here. It’s kind of a town thing. We’re filling up the maternity waiting room. There’s some food. Are you hungry? My mom’s here. I know she’d want to say hi.”
“I’m not the party type.”
“It’s not a party. Just people getting together. Birth is a time to celebrate.”
He turned away from her. For a second she thought he was going to leave, but then he faced her again.
“This is who I am,” he said, his voice a low growl.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m a brilliant surgeon. I can work magic in the operating room. I can take someone who has to creep in the shadows and turn him or her into someone who can pass for normal. Do you know what that means to them? To be just like everyone else?”
She shook her head, not sure what he wanted.
His mouth twisted. “You can imagine, but you’ll never know.” Now he touched her face. “You have the gift of beauty. Do you know what we find beautiful and what we find ugly is a difference of millimeters? Eyes too small, an uneven mouth. Not even inches. Fractions.” He traced her lips with his thumb. “You’re physically perfect.”
“I’m not.�
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“Close enough. But there are others like me—the monsters. I take them from the shadows.” He raised both his hands in front of her. “Like magic. Training, hard work and a gift. But it comes at a price. I don’t belong, Montana. I don’t have your beauty and I don’t have your world. I do my work, I stay apart. It’s better that way.”
“That’s so much crap,” she said before she could stop herself. “There’s nothing that says you have to sacrifice yourself to be good at what you do. Yes, you have a great talent and you’ve worked hard to nurture it. You’ve decided to be the best and you are. But there’s no giant accountant in the sky. No one who says if you have a life, if you belong, you lose everything.”
“You don’t know that. I do.”
Was this the problem? Simon at his essence? A man who believed the price to save the world was to sacrifice himself?
She couldn’t imagine such a thing, but knew he wasn’t lying.
The room was dark enough that it was difficult to make out his features. She could see the scars, and knew the unmarked side of his face illustrated the beauty he had talked about. The perfection. When he stared in the mirror, he saw both halves of what he did as a surgeon. He was the before and the after. The creature of the shadows and the man of light.
Words bubbled to the surface, but none of them would make a difference. She didn’t fully understand the problem, nor was she qualified to fix it. She only knew he was in pain and somehow she wanted to make him feel better.
“Come with me,” she instructed and took his hand.
She expected him to protest, but he went along with her. They walked to the elevator, then got inside. She pushed the button that would take them down two floors.
The nursery windows were lined with people pointing and waving. Denise had left, probably to take Peter home, and Dakota had returned to her family. But Nevada was still there, along with Mayor Marsha and everyone else who had waited to hear the news of the twins’ birth.
Marsha saw them first.
“Montana, there you are. Oh, and you brought Dr. Bradley.” She approached them. “We met when you first arrived.”
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