“There’s a happy way to start a relationship,” Montana told her. “I’m not pregnant, and I’m not interested in a man who would only stay for the sake of a child.”
“You’re so calm,” Pia told her.
“That’s because I’m at the crying-on-the-inside stage.” Montana swallowed. “I do love him and I don’t want him to go, but there’s nothing I can say to change his mind.” She glared at them. “I don’t want any of you saying anything, either.”
“Would we do that?” Nevada asked.
“In a heartbeat. I want you to promise.”
They all swore they wouldn’t say a word.
“Good.”
Montana continued to cuddle the baby. She was pleased she sounded so in control and that she’d managed to fool three people who loved her. The truth was she felt shattered by what had happened. She wanted to say she would do anything to get Simon to return her feelings, even a little.
Except that wasn’t true. Her heart might hurt with every beat, but she’d managed to do the right thing. To accept what had happened and believe in her ability to heal.
It had taken her a long time, but she’d finally grown up. Eventually, she would learn to move on. To forget about Simon. To fall in love with someone else.
“There’s always hope,” she whispered to the baby in her arms. “You need to remember that.”
SIMON SPENT THE NEXT several days waiting for someone to attack him. He was sure that it was only a matter of time until he was confronted by a mob, all of them demanding he do the right thing where Montana was concerned.
Instead, people were just as friendly as they had always been. They smiled, they asked about his patients, they suggested things for him to do on the weekend. As if nothing had changed.
The only thing he could figure out was that Montana hadn’t told anybody. But why would she keep that information to herself? She must hate him. A scorned woman and all that.
He finished his rounds early on Saturday and found himself at loose ends. There was yet another festival in town, something to do with crafts. He walked through the crowd, grabbing a quick lunch at one of the food stands, then stood there with nothing to do and no one to see. Finally he decided he would go to the bookstore and get something to read.
As he turned in that direction, he caught sight of a familiar shape. A woman with blond hair. Several people stepped between them and he couldn’t see her anymore, so he hurried in her direction. His heart quickened as need filled him.
He raced toward her, only to stop by a woman selling glass bead earrings. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t go after Montana. He’d ended things. Worse, he’d hurt her.
He reminded himself that this was what he wanted. To be alone. It was the way things were. But still, he ached for her. Not just her body next to his, but her smile, her laugh, the things she said. He’d never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Montana and he’d never missed anyone as much.
The blond woman moved to her left and he saw her then, the shape of her face and her much shorter hair, and knew it wasn’t Montana. It was one of her sisters. She’d never been there at all.
He made his way to Morgan’s Books. The store was large, with lots of windows and natural light. There was a display of mysteries written by Montana’s sister-in-law. He flipped through Liz’s latest and decided to pick it up.
With the book tucked under his arm, he wandered the store. Everyone who saw him was friendly and he suddenly realized he’d been waiting to be punished. He wanted someone to tell him he was wrong, that he’d been the lowest form of bastard. Because with the blame and anger might come defensiveness—a gut reaction that might convince him he’d been right to cut off their relationship.
He rounded a corner and nearly ran into Denise Hendrix.
He came to a stop, knowing at last he had found the one person who would want to bring him to his knees. Mothers like Denise protected their children ferociously.
“Simon!” Denise smiled at him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”
She was too friendly. “Have you talked to Montana recently?”
“Not in a couple of days. Why?”
At last, he thought almost gleefully. She would hate what he had done.
“We broke up.”
Denise looked surprised. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It wasn’t her, in case you’re wondering. It was me. I have to leave soon and I didn’t think we should pursue a relationship. She didn’t agree. She’s in love with me.”
Denise was carrying a book. Maybe she would hit him with it. Maybe they would all stand around him, yelling at him. Telling him why he was wrong.
Instead she sighed. “That makes you a very lucky man.”
He stared at her, unable to believe what she was saying. “Lucky?”
“Having someone love you is an amazing gift. Especially if it’s someone like Montana.” She straightened and squared her shoulders, an action that reminded him so much of her daughter. “So, yes, if she loves you, you are very lucky. And if she loves you, you must be a good man.”
He didn’t know what to say to that.
“It’s taken Montana a while to find her way,” Denise continued. “She was never quite sure what she wanted to do with her life. But she never stopped searching and now she’s found where she belongs. I’m so proud of her.”
He didn’t understand. Where was the screaming? Where were the accusations?
“I don’t love her.”
Denise stared at him for a long time, then leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, Simon. I don’t know very much about you, but what I’ve been told is sad. It must be difficult for you to trust in something you’ve never seen. Being loved must be one of the most terrifying things of all.”
She stepped back and gave him a caring smile. “I hope you can have a little faith. If not in Montana, then at least in yourself.”
With that, she turned and walked away. He was left staring after her, more confused than ever and still without a chance at redemption.
SIMON POINTED TO THE SMALL red X on the illustration. “We’re going to start on the right side of your face,” he said.
Kalinda nodded. “Because it’s the bad side, right?”
“I don’t like to think of this in terms of good or bad. The right side has more damage, and will need more attention.”
Kalinda rolled her eyes at him. “Now you sound like my mom.”
Her mother sat on the other side of the girl’s bed. “Why did you say it like that?” she asked, but she was grinning as she spoke.
Ever since the night of Kalinda’s crisis, the little girl had been getting better. Simon didn’t have to look at her chart to see the truth. She was awake most of the day, energetic, talkative and interested in what was going on around her. At this rate, he could squeeze in two, maybe three surgeries before he left.
Kalinda pointed to the picture. It was a simple drawing of a face. He used it a lot when he was working with children. Showing someone what would be happening often made more sense than trying to talk about it. Plus, he’d been told he could get too technical and graphic. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her.
“When you do that are you gonna cover my whole face? Will I look like a mummy?”
“Probably half a mummy.”
“Then I can walk down the halls at night with my arms straight in front of me and frighten the nurses.” Kalinda sounded delighted at the thought. “You need to make sure I’m a full mummy for Halloween.”
Fay looked at her daughter. “You know Dr. Bradley won’t be here for Halloween.”
“Yes, he will.” She looked at him. “You promised. You pinkie promised. You have to stay.”
