Simon rarely had to choose between what he wanted and what a patient needed. Not that there was a choice. Kalinda would come first. “Of course,” he said with an ease he didn’t feel. “As long as your daughter is holding her own, the dog can visit. Whatever we can do to help her.”
Fay squeezed his arm. “Thank you,” she breathed. “I’ll call Montana right now.”
He watched her hurry away, already pulling her cell phone from her jeans pocket. In a few seconds she would hear Montana’s voice. Simon knew things were bad when he felt jealous of that.
He had to get a grip. He barely knew the woman. Maybe he needed vitamins.
Before he got any further in his self-diagnosis, one of the nurses came running toward him.
“We just got a call about an accident,” she said urgently. “A boy. He’s twelve. Fireworks. That’s all I know.”
Simon ran to the stairs and started down. The other woman was still talking but he wasn’t listening and soon he was out of earshot. His mind cleared.
He’d seen the damage fireworks could do to the human body. A familiar, cold rage returned. Other people might enjoy the Fourth of July, but he loathed the holiday. Parents who let children play with fireworks should all be shot. Or set on fire themselves.
He let himself experience the anger until he stepped out of the stairwell and onto the ground floor. As he ran toward the emergency room, he let all the feelings go. He allowed himself only concern and the knowledge he would do everything in his power to fix what had been broken.
“I KNOW WE’RE SUPPOSED to eat outside,” Montana’s mother said. “It’s tradition and all. But I feel like I’ve paid my dues. We ate in the backyard all the time when you were little. I dealt with the bugs and ants enough to last a lifetime. Besides, we’re all grown-ups.”
Montana did her best to keep her mother from seeing her amusement. They went through this every summer. For a woman who loved to garden, Denise was oddly reluctant to eat outdoors. Snacks were fine, but something about a meal eaten on the grass made her mother crazy.
“We’re not all adults,” she said just to tease. “Reese is only ten and Tyler just turned eleven. I won’t even mention Melissa, Abby and Hannah.”
Her mother sighed. “So you’re saying that if I was a good grandmother, I’d serve dinner outside?”
Montana laughed, then walked over to her mother and hugged her. “You’re an excellent grandmother. Nobody cares if we eat inside or outside. We’ll go out later.”
“If you’re sure.” Denise shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m so frantic. I guess it’s because nearly everyone will be here and that hasn’t happened in a long time.”
It was true, Montana thought. Only Ford would be missing. Her youngest brother was currently on a Navy ship in the Indian Ocean. Kent, the middle Hendrix brother, and his son Reese would be joining them. They hadn’t made it for Christmas, something Denise had been unable to let go. Montana didn’t know all the details. Kent and his ex-wife had been finalizing their divorce.
Unlike many women, Kent’s ex didn’t want custody of their son, although she expected to see Reese whenever it suited her. Montana’s understanding of family law was that a parent had to pay child support or take custody so that the responsibility of having a child wasn’t reduced to mere convenience.
Not her problem, she reminded herself as she set the table. It would be good to see her brother and her nephew. Reese was always fun, even if he did kick her butt at computer games.
She finished putting out the glasses. Most of the food had been prepared. The ribs were ready to go on the barbecue. Four kinds of salad were in bowls in the fridge, and frosted brownies tempted her from the counter.
“Your sister should be here soon,” her mother said, glancing at the clock on the wall.
She meant Nevada. The single sisters arrived early to help. Until a couple of months ago, Dakota would have been with them. She had Finn now, not to mention her daughter, Hannah. And she was pregnant.
Montana wondered what that must feel like. To know you had a baby inside you. As far as she knew, her sister hadn’t felt any movement in her growing tummy. Still, the realization that a life was inside her must be powerful stuff.
Fierce longing swept through her, startling her with its intensity. She wanted to fall in love and get married and have kids. She’d never been that passionate about the subject before. Maybe because she hadn’t figured out what she wanted to do with her life. But now she was settled in her job and ready for the next step. Unfortunately, no guy lurked on the horizon.
Without wanting to, she remembered Simon’s kiss. But he’d made it clear that he didn’t plan to kiss her again. While technically kissing wasn’t required for pregnancy, she had a feeling it helped. Besides, she didn’t want just a baby, she wanted a husband. Simon didn’t strike her as the sort of man who’d settle down.
“Are you all right?” her mother asked.
“Fine. Just thinking about Dakota’s baby.”
“Hannah is going to enjoy having a baby brother or sister.”
Montana thought of her sister’s adopted daughter. She’d only been a part of the family for a couple of months, but already no one could remember what it had been like without her. She had spent the first few months of her life in an orphanage in Kazakhstan yet she’d adjusted to the family as if she was blood.
“Maybe she’ll have twins,” Montana said with a grin.
“Don’t let your sister hear you say that,” her mother warned.
Montana laughed. “More grandchildren for you.”
“I wouldn’t say no. But she might want to go more slowly. So…are you seeing anyone?”
The question was asked casually enough, but Montana wasn’t fooled. Her mother would want details. Not that she had any to share. She hadn’t been on a date in months. And her tour of town with Simon didn’t count, even with the kiss.
“No, are you?”
Her mother leaned against the counter and sighed. “I’ve been on a few dates, but nothing special.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t understand it. There are so many younger men asking me out. Why? Where are all the good men in their fifties and sixties?”
Montana looked at her mother. Denise was as pretty as she had been twenty years ago. She could also fit in the same clothes. Her blond hair was short and stylish. She understood why younger men were interested in her mother, even though she didn’t want to hear about it.
For a second, she thought about mentioning Max. Her boss was about the right age and in the year Montana had known him, he’d never been out with anyone. At least she didn’t think he’d been on a date. They didn’t exactly talk about their personal lives. So, he was a possibility. Except for the issue of the name Max tattooed on her mother’s hip. Whoever that Max was, their relationship had been very intense. There might be name associations her mother wouldn’t appreciate.
“Your sister told me about your conversation with Mayor Marsha,” her mother said.
“We really don’t have to talk about that.” She glanced at the clock, wishing someone would show up. Anyone would be a distraction.
“It’s nice of you to help the town. What’s he like?”
“Quiet.” A great kisser. But that was a factoid she was not going to share with her mother.
“Do you think you’ll be seeing him again?”
Before Montana could figure out how to answer, the phone rang.
Saved by the bell, she thought humorously.
Her mother reached for the receiver. “Hello?”
Montana turned toward the refrigerator to get herself something to drink. But a sixth sense made her turn around.
“Are you sure?” Denise asked, her face going white. “I’m sorry. Of course you’re sure. Yes. We’ll be right there.”