Only Yours

by Susan Mallery

  “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—o
pen 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.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MONTANA DIDN’T USUALLY attend city council meetings. Her job had never been political. Before working for Max, she’d been a part-time librarian. But Mayor Marsha had asked, so here she was.

  The agenda was much as she had expected. Information about road construction—in this case a project funded by the state. A few permit issues. An update on the Summer Festival, only two days away.

  Gladys, the city treasurer, turned to Mayor Marsha. “I assume Montana is here to talk about the Dr. Bradley issue.”

  “She is.” The mayor smiled at Montana. “How is our project going?”

  Montana realized she shouldn
’t have been surprised by the shift in topic. If she’d thought about it for even a second, she would have known why she’d been asked to attend. Unfortunately, she went completely blank.

  “I, ah, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Is he enjoying Fool’s Gold?” Marsha asked.

  “Yes. Everyone has been very welcoming and I think he appreciates that. He’s not much of a joiner, though. I haven’t found that he has any hobbies.”

  “He went golfing with Josh and Ethan,” another council member said. “Raoul Moreno joined them for the last nine holes.”

  “Do you think he would be impressed by sports celebrities?” Marsha asked earnestly. “Should I suggest Josh and Raoul spend more time with him?”

  Montana felt everyone staring at her. She did her best not to squirm. “Not really. He’s not that kind of man. He’s quiet and thoughtful. He only seems comfortable opening up to his patients.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve had sex yet?” Gladys asked.

  Heat flared on Montana’s cheeks.

  “That is not our business,” Marsha announced firmly. “I asked Montana to be his friend, to show him around town and talk about the benefits of living here. She’s not expected to give her, ahem, all for the sake of the town.”

  “In my day we understood a good sacrifice,” Gladys mumbled.

  Marsha ignored her. “Montana, do you feel you’re making progress?”

  “I don’t know. I’m never sure what he’s thinking.”

  The mayor nodded, then the meeting moved on to other topics. When it was over, Mayor Marsha asked her to stay behind.

  “Do you know how he got his scars?” the older woman asked when it was just the two of them.

  She asked the question in such a way that Montana realized the mayor knew the answer.

  Montana shifted in her seat. “He hasn’t told me.”

  “Do you want to know?”

  The tone was gentle, the expression caring. Mayor Marsha wouldn’t tell her if she didn’t want to know.

  Montana nodded.

  Marsha slipped on her reading glasses and opened a slim folder in front of her.

  “From what I’ve been able to find out, his mother was largely a disinterested parent. There’s no word on Simon’s father. He seems to have disappeared fairly early on. Possibly while she was pregnant. According to the police reports, her boyfriend left because he found Simon…disconcerting.”