“Kalinda’s gone,” he said flatly, knowing in the next minute or so he would get a call telling him what had happened.
Montana’s eyes filled with tears. “No. She was doing better. I saw her yesterday. She was laughing.”
He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want to be with anyone. Especially not with someone who claimed to love him. He didn’t want her to carry ugly images in her head.
“I have to go.”
He knew he should say something else, but there weren’t any words. Just the pressing need to be anywhere but here.
He turned and walked toward the stairs. He opened the door and raced down. When he found himself outside, he drew in deep breaths, but they didn’t help. Nothing helped.
Without thinking he pulled out his cell phone and pushed the speed dial. Seconds later a familiar voice said, “You’re up late.”
“Alistair.”
His friend’s voice changed from joking to serious. “What’s wrong?”
“I lost a patient. A child.”
Alistair swore. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. Simon, you’re the best.”
Maybe, but tonight, it wasn’t enough. “Do you ever want…”
“To walk away?” His friend paused. “Sometimes it gets to me. The pain, the suffering. But someone has to help and, frankly, who better?”
“Do you ever want something more? A life?”
“I had one.”
Simon winced. Alistair’s beautiful wife and baby girl had been killed in a car accident three years ago. A month later, Alistair had joined Simon in Africa. As far as Simon knew, the other man had never been back to London.
“Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Not long enough.” Simon knew he would remember gentle Kalinda forever. What would it be like to lose his own child? Or to have one in the first place?
“You go on,” Alistair told him. “Keep putting one foot in front of the other. You asked me once if it was worth it. Loving them and losing them. Was it worth it to help your patient?”
“Of course.”
“Then that’s your answer.”
MONTANA BRUSHED AWAY the tears. In her arms, Cece looked at her, as if aware something was wrong.
“She’s gone,” she repeated, knowing the words wouldn’t make any sense to the little dog. Not that they made any sense to her, either. Kalinda’s death seemed unnecessary and arbitrary. What had gone wrong?
She stared at the door to the stairs, wondering if she should follow Simon. After a couple of seconds, she turned the other way. Telling him she loved him wouldn’t have helped him feel any better. If she went after him, he might think she was pressuring him or trying to prove herself. He’d found her before—if he needed her, he would find her again.
For a second she wondered if she’d been wrong to tell him the truth. If knowing she loved him would make things more difficult. Then she shook her head. No. She wouldn’t go there. Loving someone was a gift. It’s not like she’d asked for anything or tried to manipulate him. Simon could be freaked out or not—that was his decision. For her part, she was proud that she had put herself out there. What he did with the information was up to him.
She walked toward Kalinda’s room. She wanted to see Fay, to say how wonderful her daughter had been. Whatever they needed, the town would provide. Montana would help as best she could, even if that meant simply getting them a room for the night.
But as she approached the girl’s room, she didn’t hear crying. Instead there were voices—happy voices. Not just from Kalinda’s parents, but from the staff.
Montana hurried forward.
The door was open and she saw Fay and her husband standing on either side of Kalinda’s bed, smiling, wiping away tears and holding hands across their daughter. Fay looked up and saw her.
“She’s okay,” she whispered, smiling broadly. “She’s okay. Her heartbeat is getting stronger. The crisis passed.”
Montana felt weak with relief. Her own eyes filled with happy tears.
“I’m so glad. This has been difficult for all of you.”
“We’ll get through it,” Kalinda’s father said, never taking his gaze from his little girl.
Fay’s eyes moved over her. “Look how you’re dressed. Were you at a party?”
Montana nodded. “I was with Simon when he got the message. He came right here. I didn’t know what to do, so I got Cece. Has someone told Simon she’s all right?”
“One of the nurses is taking care of that.”
Fay walked across the room and hugged her, squeezing the dog between them. Cece wagged her tail and licked them both on the chin.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for her.”
“I want to help. Do you think a little poodle company would help right now?”
“I think it would be perfect,” Fay told her.
Montana set Cece on the foot of the bed. The dog carefully picked her way over the covers until she was level with Kalinda’s hip. She bent over and gently licked Kalinda’s hand, then curled up and closed her eyes.
All three adults watched intently. The girl barely stirred then slowly, very slowly, her fingers shifted so she could gently pat the little dog. Her lips curved up in a smile and she mouthed, “Thank you.”
MONTANA CHECKED HER PHONE before leaving the hospital and was surprised to see a message from her mother. Although it was nearly ten, she decided to call her back.
“Hello?”
“Hi.”
“Oh, Montana.” Her mother sighed. “Thank you for calling me back. I thought you might be at the fundraiser with Simon.”
“I was, but he got called away for a medical emergency.” She thought of Kalinda, resting comfortably with Cece curled up next to her. “Everything is fine now.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Her mother paused. “Montana, I’m sorry about what happened before. How angry and unreasonable I was. I’m sure you thought I was crazy.”
Montana walked to her car and leaned against the door. “Not crazy. I wasn’t sure why you were so upset. We weren’t trying to butt in, not exactly. Of course you had a life before. You weren’t born the day before you married Dad. It’s just Max is my boss and…” She sighed. “I’m glad you’re not mad.”
“I’m not. The Max thing is complicated. Not because there’s any big secret, but because I really didn’t expect my past to show up now. We did date. I knew him before I knew your dad. But Max wasn’t the kind of guy who looked much past the moment. I wanted more than that. Then I met your father and I knew he was the one.”
Montana smiled. “Sounds like an exciting time.”
“It was, but being married to your dad was better.”
“Thanks for telling me this.”
“You’re welcome. And I really am sorry. I love you, sweetie.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
They promised to speak again soon and hung up. As Montana climbed into her car, she wondered about the rest of the Max story. There were things her mother wasn’t sharing. Then she told herself to let it go. Whatever had happened was in the distant past. It wasn’t as if her mother and Max were going to get back together.
SIMON WALKED AROUND Fool’s Gold until his body ached. It was late—after midnight, at least—although he didn’t bother glancing at his watch to find out the exact time. It didn’t matter.
Restlessness drove him to keep moving, even without a destination. He’d received several calls updating him on Kalinda’s condition. The fever was gone and she was stable. She would make it.
Good news, he told himself. The best news.
His footsteps echoed in the quiet of the night. He hadn’t seen another person in a long time. He knew he should return to his hotel and try to get some sleep, but he couldn’t imagine relaxing enough to lie down.
Instead he turned at the next intersection and walked down dark residential streets until he reached a familiar one. He stood by a tree, watching the house.
The lights were still on, but he couldn’t be sure she was awake. Finally he saw the shadow of someone crossing in front of the window.
His heart quickened as he recognized Montana. He knew in his gut she was waiting for him. She already knew he would need her, would seek her out. Because she wanted to be there for him.
He distinctly remembered his mother telling him she loved him. Sure, she was usually drunk when she said it, but it was only when she drank that he got any affection from her at all. She would hug him and tell him he was everything to her. That they were going to go away forever. She swore she was giving up men, that it would be the two of them and that she would be the best mother ever.
For years he’d believed her, had waited for her to start packing. He’d looked at maps and thought about all the places they could go. He’d imagined a perfect life.
By the time he’d turned ten, he’d stopped waiting. When she hugged him and told him she loved him, he didn’t believe her. When her boyfriends had started hitting him, he instead pictured himself in another place. A better place. He vowed he would figure out how to survive on his own and simply disappear.
Then she’d pushed him into the fire.
There were no words to describe the excruciating pain, the primal response as he struggled to escape the agony, only to have her push him back again. The screams he’d heard, his own screams, hadn’t even been human. He hadn’t known such torture existed.
Once he’d escaped and run outside, he’d been unable to stop vomiting and shaking.
He’d learned later that though she’d claimed it was an accident, she’d been overheard privately telling her court appointed attorney that she’d done it on purpose. Years later, he’d read the transcripts of her interview with the police. She hadn’t said she was sorry. She’d said he’d always been a burden and she’d always regretted having him.
She’d never loved him. It had all been a lie.
Since then, he’d never bothered to see if love could exist for him. He’d gone to high school from a hospital bed and had been a scarred freak in college, too young and too smart. The same in medical school. By the time his age matched that of the people around him, it was too late. He was never in one place long enough to make connections, and he preferred it that way.
Then there was Montana. A woman who had grown up in an idyllic setting, with a loving family. She’d never known suffering or pain, beyond the usual bumps and bruises, either emotional or physical. She couldn’t begin to understand what he’d experienced.
But she didn’t let that stop her. She accepted his scars. She believed in the best of him. She loved him.
He’d seen love before, in the parents who begged God to save their child or offered to die in their child’s place. He’d seen a wife or a husband never leave a bedside. He’d been caught up in the vortex of grief when a patient was lost. But he’d never truly felt it himself.
During his years in the hospital as a teenage patient, he’d spoken with several psychologists and psychiatrists. They had explained his mother’s inability to emotionally bond and talked about how he had to heal mentally as well as physically.
He’d heard the words and pretended to agree with them. Inside, he’d shut down and known it would always be like that.
He crossed the street and walked toward Montana’s front door. When he reached it, he knocked softly.
She opened it at once.
“I’ve been worried about you,” she said, pulling him into the house. “You heard about Kalinda, right? Isn’t it wonderful?” She smiled. “Her parents are so happy. I left Cece with her for the night. I’ll pick her up in the morning. I can’t imagine how you go through this with all your patients. But this time it all worked out.”
She was so beautiful, he thought, touching her face. She would do anything for him, including pretending the void that was his heart wouldn’t hurt her. But she would be wrong. Eventually she would feel as if he were some kind of emotional vampire—sucking out her lifeblood and giving nothing in return. Eventually she would see that, and when she changed her mind about him, the devastation would be worse than anything he’d ever known.
He dropped his hand to his side.
“I don’t want to see you anymore.”
He spoke the words flatly, without emotion, his voice cold.
She stared at him, confused. “I don’t—”
“I’ll be leaving town in a few weeks so there’s no point in us continuing to be together.”
She surprised him by standing straight and tall, her chin raised.
“All right,” she murmured.
He wanted to call the words back, to tell her he was wrong. She was so much more than he’d ever expected. So much more than he deserved. But he couldn’t say anything. It was as if everything inside that had ever been good or kind or decent was frozen.
She walked to the door and held it open.
“I won’t keep you,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “Goodbye, Simon.”
He walked past her and out into the night. For a second, he drew in the scent of her perfume. Then it was gone, the door closed, and he was alone.
Exactly how he’d wanted it, he told himself as he walked away. Exactly what was best for both of them.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MONTANA HELD THE TINY BABY in her arms and felt the warmth of her body, wrapped so tightly in a soft blanket.
Montana’s eyes filled with tears. “No. She was doing better. I saw her yesterday. She was laughing.”
He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want to be with anyone. Especially not with someone who claimed to love him. He didn’t want her to carry ugly images in her head.
“I have to go.”
He knew he should say something else, but there weren’t any words. Just the pressing need to be anywhere but here.
He turned and walked toward the stairs. He opened the door and raced down. When he found himself outside, he drew in deep breaths, but they didn’t help. Nothing helped.
Without thinking he pulled out his cell phone and pushed the speed dial. Seconds later a familiar voice said, “You’re up late.”
“Alistair.”
His friend’s voice changed from joking to serious. “What’s wrong?”
“I lost a patient. A child.”
Alistair swore. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. Simon, you’re the best.”
Maybe, but tonight, it wasn’t enough. “Do you ever want…”
“To walk away?” His friend paused. “Sometimes it gets to me. The pain, the suffering. But someone has to help and, frankly, who better?”
“Do you ever want something more? A life?”
“I had one.”
Simon winced. Alistair’s beautiful wife and baby girl had been killed in a car accident three years ago. A month later, Alistair had joined Simon in Africa. As far as Simon knew, the other man had never been back to London.
“Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Not long enough.” Simon knew he would remember gentle Kalinda forever. What would it be like to lose his own child? Or to have one in the first place?
“You go on,” Alistair told him. “Keep putting one foot in front of the other. You asked me once if it was worth it. Loving them and losing them. Was it worth it to help your patient?”
“Of course.”
“Then that’s your answer.”
MONTANA BRUSHED AWAY the tears. In her arms, Cece looked at her, as if aware something was wrong.
“She’s gone,” she repeated, knowing the words wouldn’t make any sense to the little dog. Not that they made any sense to her, either. Kalinda’s death seemed unnecessary and arbitrary. What had gone wrong?
She stared at the door to the stairs, wondering if she should follow Simon. After a couple of seconds, she turned the other way. Telling him she loved him wouldn’t have helped him feel any better. If she went after him, he might think she was pressuring him or trying to prove herself. He’d found her before—if he needed her, he would find her again.
For a second she wondered if she’d been wrong to tell him the truth. If knowing she loved him would make things more difficult. Then she shook her head. No. She wouldn’t go there. Loving someone was a gift. It’s not like she’d asked for anything or tried to manipulate him. Simon could be freaked out or not—that was his decision. For her part, she was proud that she had put herself out there. What he did with the information was up to him.
She walked toward Kalinda’s room. She wanted to see Fay, to say how wonderful her daughter had been. Whatever they needed, the town would provide. Montana would help as best she could, even if that meant simply getting them a room for the night.
But as she approached the girl’s room, she didn’t hear crying. Instead there were voices—happy voices. Not just from Kalinda’s parents, but from the staff.
Montana hurried forward.
The door was open and she saw Fay and her husband standing on either side of Kalinda’s bed, smiling, wiping away tears and holding hands across their daughter. Fay looked up and saw her.
“She’s okay,” she whispered, smiling broadly. “She’s okay. Her heartbeat is getting stronger. The crisis passed.”
Montana felt weak with relief. Her own eyes filled with happy tears.
“I’m so glad. This has been difficult for all of you.”
“We’ll get through it,” Kalinda’s father said, never taking his gaze from his little girl.
Fay’s eyes moved over her. “Look how you’re dressed. Were you at a party?”
Montana nodded. “I was with Simon when he got the message. He came right here. I didn’t know what to do, so I got Cece. Has someone told Simon she’s all right?”
“One of the nurses is taking care of that.”
Fay walked across the room and hugged her, squeezing the dog between them. Cece wagged her tail and licked them both on the chin.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for her.”
“I want to help. Do you think a little poodle company would help right now?”
“I think it would be perfect,” Fay told her.
Montana set Cece on the foot of the bed. The dog carefully picked her way over the covers until she was level with Kalinda’s hip. She bent over and gently licked Kalinda’s hand, then curled up and closed her eyes.
All three adults watched intently. The girl barely stirred then slowly, very slowly, her fingers shifted so she could gently pat the little dog. Her lips curved up in a smile and she mouthed, “Thank you.”
MONTANA CHECKED HER PHONE before leaving the hospital and was surprised to see a message from her mother. Although it was nearly ten, she decided to call her back.
“Hello?”
“Hi.”
“Oh, Montana.” Her mother sighed. “Thank you for calling me back. I thought you might be at the fundraiser with Simon.”
“I was, but he got called away for a medical emergency.” She thought of Kalinda, resting comfortably with Cece curled up next to her. “Everything is fine now.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Her mother paused. “Montana, I’m sorry about what happened before. How angry and unreasonable I was. I’m sure you thought I was crazy.”
Montana walked to her car and leaned against the door. “Not crazy. I wasn’t sure why you were so upset. We weren’t trying to butt in, not exactly. Of course you had a life before. You weren’t born the day before you married Dad. It’s just Max is my boss and…” She sighed. “I’m glad you’re not mad.”
“I’m not. The Max thing is complicated. Not because there’s any big secret, but because I really didn’t expect my past to show up now. We did date. I knew him before I knew your dad. But Max wasn’t the kind of guy who looked much past the moment. I wanted more than that. Then I met your father and I knew he was the one.”
Montana smiled. “Sounds like an exciting time.”
“It was, but being married to your dad was better.”
“Thanks for telling me this.”
“You’re welcome. And I really am sorry. I love you, sweetie.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
They promised to speak again soon and hung up. As Montana climbed into her car, she wondered about the rest of the Max story. There were things her mother wasn’t sharing. Then she told herself to let it go. Whatever had happened was in the distant past. It wasn’t as if her mother and Max were going to get back together.
SIMON WALKED AROUND Fool’s Gold until his body ached. It was late—after midnight, at least—although he didn’t bother glancing at his watch to find out the exact time. It didn’t matter.
Restlessness drove him to keep moving, even without a destination. He’d received several calls updating him on Kalinda’s condition. The fever was gone and she was stable. She would make it.
Good news, he told himself. The best news.
His footsteps echoed in the quiet of the night. He hadn’t seen another person in a long time. He knew he should return to his hotel and try to get some sleep, but he couldn’t imagine relaxing enough to lie down.
Instead he turned at the next intersection and walked down dark residential streets until he reached a familiar one. He stood by a tree, watching the house.
The lights were still on, but he couldn’t be sure she was awake. Finally he saw the shadow of someone crossing in front of the window.
His heart quickened as he recognized Montana. He knew in his gut she was waiting for him. She already knew he would need her, would seek her out. Because she wanted to be there for him.
He distinctly remembered his mother telling him she loved him. Sure, she was usually drunk when she said it, but it was only when she drank that he got any affection from her at all. She would hug him and tell him he was everything to her. That they were going to go away forever. She swore she was giving up men, that it would be the two of them and that she would be the best mother ever.
For years he’d believed her, had waited for her to start packing. He’d looked at maps and thought about all the places they could go. He’d imagined a perfect life.
By the time he’d turned ten, he’d stopped waiting. When she hugged him and told him she loved him, he didn’t believe her. When her boyfriends had started hitting him, he instead pictured himself in another place. A better place. He vowed he would figure out how to survive on his own and simply disappear.
Then she’d pushed him into the fire.
There were no words to describe the excruciating pain, the primal response as he struggled to escape the agony, only to have her push him back again. The screams he’d heard, his own screams, hadn’t even been human. He hadn’t known such torture existed.
Once he’d escaped and run outside, he’d been unable to stop vomiting and shaking.
He’d learned later that though she’d claimed it was an accident, she’d been overheard privately telling her court appointed attorney that she’d done it on purpose. Years later, he’d read the transcripts of her interview with the police. She hadn’t said she was sorry. She’d said he’d always been a burden and she’d always regretted having him.
She’d never loved him. It had all been a lie.
Since then, he’d never bothered to see if love could exist for him. He’d gone to high school from a hospital bed and had been a scarred freak in college, too young and too smart. The same in medical school. By the time his age matched that of the people around him, it was too late. He was never in one place long enough to make connections, and he preferred it that way.
Then there was Montana. A woman who had grown up in an idyllic setting, with a loving family. She’d never known suffering or pain, beyond the usual bumps and bruises, either emotional or physical. She couldn’t begin to understand what he’d experienced.
But she didn’t let that stop her. She accepted his scars. She believed in the best of him. She loved him.
He’d seen love before, in the parents who begged God to save their child or offered to die in their child’s place. He’d seen a wife or a husband never leave a bedside. He’d been caught up in the vortex of grief when a patient was lost. But he’d never truly felt it himself.
During his years in the hospital as a teenage patient, he’d spoken with several psychologists and psychiatrists. They had explained his mother’s inability to emotionally bond and talked about how he had to heal mentally as well as physically.
He’d heard the words and pretended to agree with them. Inside, he’d shut down and known it would always be like that.
He crossed the street and walked toward Montana’s front door. When he reached it, he knocked softly.
She opened it at once.
“I’ve been worried about you,” she said, pulling him into the house. “You heard about Kalinda, right? Isn’t it wonderful?” She smiled. “Her parents are so happy. I left Cece with her for the night. I’ll pick her up in the morning. I can’t imagine how you go through this with all your patients. But this time it all worked out.”
She was so beautiful, he thought, touching her face. She would do anything for him, including pretending the void that was his heart wouldn’t hurt her. But she would be wrong. Eventually she would feel as if he were some kind of emotional vampire—sucking out her lifeblood and giving nothing in return. Eventually she would see that, and when she changed her mind about him, the devastation would be worse than anything he’d ever known.
He dropped his hand to his side.
“I don’t want to see you anymore.”
He spoke the words flatly, without emotion, his voice cold.
She stared at him, confused. “I don’t—”
“I’ll be leaving town in a few weeks so there’s no point in us continuing to be together.”
She surprised him by standing straight and tall, her chin raised.
“All right,” she murmured.
He wanted to call the words back, to tell her he was wrong. She was so much more than he’d ever expected. So much more than he deserved. But he couldn’t say anything. It was as if everything inside that had ever been good or kind or decent was frozen.
She walked to the door and held it open.
“I won’t keep you,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “Goodbye, Simon.”
He walked past her and out into the night. For a second, he drew in the scent of her perfume. Then it was gone, the door closed, and he was alone.
Exactly how he’d wanted it, he told himself as he walked away. Exactly what was best for both of them.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MONTANA HELD THE TINY BABY in her arms and felt the warmth of her body, wrapped so tightly in a soft blanket.
