Susan Mallery: Only Yours

Max’s blue eyes crinkled with amusement. “Very mature.”

“You know her.”

“So do you.”

“She likes you.” Every time they’d had a meeting, the administrator had been unable to keep from staring at Max.

Montana thought he was pretty nice looking, although a little, well, old. He had steel-gray hair, rugged features and piercing blue eyes. He was tall and rangy. He looked like the kind of man who could take care of himself in any situation. Although nearly sixty, Max looked and acted much younger.

“If you’re that concerned, you should call her yourself,” he told Montana. “She understands it was an accident.”

“Dr. Stick-Up-the-Butt didn’t,” she muttered, but without a lot of energy. Max was right. Montana should be the one to call. “I’m going to work with the dogs while I gather my courage,” she told him and left the office.

Once she was outside, she crossed the large expanse of thick, green lawn. To the east, she could see the mountains rising high against the blue sky.

Max’s property was nestled in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada at the edge of the town of Fool’s Gold. South of Reno, east of Sacramento, the area was beautiful, with wineries, a large lake in the center of town and winter skiing only a few miles up the road.

Montana loved her town and she loved her job. She didn’t want to lose either. Not that anyone could take the town away from her, but still… She was feeling a little vulnerable. Despite Max’s support, she worried about what Fluffy had done. What she’d allowed to happen.

She walked around to the large play area where, during the day, the therapy dogs ran free, playing or sleeping in the sun. Several of them hurried up to greet her as she let herself inside the gate. She gave pats and hugs, then looked into Fluffy’s happy brown eyes.

“Max was right,” she told the dog. “You’re not therapy material.”

Fluffy wagged her tail.

“We’ll find you a nice home with kids. You’ll like kids. They have as much energy as you.”

She had more to say. She wanted to explain that none of this was the dog’s fault. That sometimes you had to try something before you could figure out you weren’t very good at it. But before she could get started, she heard a car pull up. She walked around to the other side of the play area and was surprised to see the town’s mayor climbing out of her car.

Marsha Tilson had been mayor of Fool’s Gold longer than Montana had been alive. She was a warm, caring person who had given up much of her life to serve the town.

“I was hoping to find you here,” the mayor called when she spotted Montana. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.”

Montana let herself out of the play yard and walked toward the mayor. The older woman was elegantly dressed in a suit and pearls. Her white hair remained perfectly in place, despite the light breeze. By contrast, Montana felt a little scruffy. Her sundress had been old last year and she’d slipped off her sandals as soon as she’d gotten in her car. Red marks from her new sandals dotted her feet, and a few puffy areas promised to turn into blisters later.

“There’s a conference room in the kennel,” she said. “Is that all right? Or do you want to go up to Max’s house?”

“The conference room is fine.”

Mayor Marsha followed her along the path, then into the large building. There was an office, a small bathroom, the conference room, a kitchenette, then wide doors led to the kennel area.

“Something to drink?” Montana asked when they’d entered the conference area. The oval table could seat twelve, although they rarely had that many people out for a meeting. “We have soda, or I could make coffee.”

“I’m fine.”

Marsha waited until Montana had pulled out a chair before taking the one across from her.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” the older woman began.

“To sell me raffle tickets?”

Marsha smiled. “I need your help on a special project.”

Montana’s first instinct was to bolt. A few months earlier, Mayor Marsha had asked Montana’s sister Dakota to help on a special project. Dakota had ended up working on a reality show as the liaison between the town and the producer. The good news was Dakota had met the love of her life, gotten pregnant, engaged and had adopted a beautiful baby girl. It had been a busy time.

But even if the idea of another special project made Montana nervous, running wasn’t an option. She was a Hendrix and a member of one of the founding families of the town. Not exactly as thrilling as being a member of the Daughters of the Revolution, but history was important.

“How can I help?” Montana asked, knowing she was making her mother proud.

Marsha leaned toward her. “There’s a doctor visiting town. A gifted surgeon. He’s brilliant, a little difficult, but what he can do for people…. Simon Bradley specializes in patients who have been burned. He also performs regular plastic surgery. We have him here for nearly three months. That’s what he does—goes from place to place performing miracles, then moving on. I want him to stay. He would be a wonderful asset for the town.”

Montana frowned. “He sounds really great, but what can I do to help?” She was assuming Marsha didn’t want her to set herself on fire to get close to the good doctor. No doubt he was the type who would—

She instinctively started to stand, then forced herself to remain sitting. The room suddenly seemed a little stuffy. She wanted to say it wasn’t possible, that no one’s luck was that bad. But she knew differently.

“You, ah, said he’s new in town?” she asked.

“Yes. He’s been here about a week.”

Montana swallowed. “Have you met him?”

“Yes. As I said, he’s not the most talkative of men, but he has a gift.”

“Does he also have a scar on his face? Just on one side?”

“Oh. You know him.”

“Not exactly. I had a run-in with him earlier. Literally.”

Montana explained what had happened. Instead of looking shocked, Mayor Marsha started laughing.

“I wish I’d been there,” she admitted with a chuckle.

“Only if you’d taken my place.” Montana sighed. “As much as I’d love to help, you can see why I’m the wrong person.”

Marsha’s humor faded. “Not really.” She leaned forward. “You are absolutely the best person I can think of.”

Montana nearly fell off her chair. “Why?”

“I have a feeling in my gut. I can’t explain it better than that. I’ve met Dr. Bradley and there’s something about him.”

“A stick up his butt,” Montana muttered under her breath. “He’s already mad at me. Don’t you want someone without such an unfortunate history?”

“I want you. Just be your normal, charming self. Befriend him. Show him around, maybe take him to meet your family. That sort of thing. Help him to see that Fool’s Gold is a wonderful place to live.” The mayor straightened. “I need you, Montana, and so does the town.”

Montana wanted to offer more reasons why this was a mistake but the mayor had already said the magic words. Giving back was part of Fool’s Gold’s culture. When asked, the good citizens said yes. Even if they really, really didn’t want to.

“I’ll talk to him,” Montana promised. “But if he still hates my guts, you’ll have to find someone else.”

She couldn’t imagine any circumstances under which Dr. Simon Bradley would want to spend time with her, which made her acceptance slightly less meaningful.

“Agreed,” the mayor said, coming to her feet. “If the good doctor refuses to have anything to do with you, I’ll find someone else.”

Montana stood as well. They walked toward the door.