“Absolutely.”

SIMON USUALLY HATED these kinds of events. He wasn’t a party guy and had always preferred quiet conversation over loud music. However, this fundraiser seemed to be better than most. For one thing, he knew a surprising number of people attending.

The mayor had greeted him at the door. Most of the ladies from his recent lunch were there, along with much of the hospital staff. His recent return to good temper meant that the nurses were now speaking to him. But the biggest difference was Montana.

He’d never attended something like this with a date before. Not only was she the most beautiful woman in the room, she had a social ease that made him feel more comfortable. She knew everyone, knew their children or their parents. She asked the right questions, smiled and laughed in the right places.

“You must be finding a lot to enjoy in our city,” an older woman said, looking more than a little determined. “Fool’s Gold has so much to offer.”

Before Simon could sidestep the implication, Montana spoke. “I’ve been showing him all over town,” she said easily. “Have you been out to the vineyards lately? I think this is going to be our biggest harvest ever.” She turned to Simon. “Grape harvesting is always a huge event in town.”

She returned her attention to the woman. “Now, which of the festivals is closest to the grape harvest?”

And as easily as that, they were talking about wine and grapes and tourists. The pressure to get Simon to stay, forgotten.

“You’re very good,” he told her, when they escaped yet another determined citizen.

“The art of distraction. I’ve been practicing.”

“I appreciate it.”

“I’m a full-service girlfriend. You might have noticed.”

Girlfriend. It wasn’t a word he used in the context of any relationship he’d ever had, but she was right.

He picked up her hand and kissed her palm.

A waiter passed carrying a tray of champagne. Simon collected a glass for each of them.

They were in the ballroom of the hotel up on the mountain. It was an elegant resort designed with comfort in mind. Chandeliers glittered overhead. A small band played in a corner and the sound of conversation competed with the music. French doors led out onto a patio. Beyond that was an acre or so of grass before the mountains rose toward the sky.

He returned his attention to Montana. As always, he wanted her. He couldn’t be in the same room with her and not desire her. But more than that, he enjoyed her company. She was both arousing and comforting. A delicious contradiction.

The music shifted to something slow and sexy.

“Dance with me?” he asked.

She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t strike me as the dancing type.”

“I’m not. But I’d like to dance with you.” He took the glass from her hand and set it on a small table, then led the way to the dance floor at the far end of the ballroom.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked. “Do you want me to lead?”

He took her in his arms and led her through a series of complicated steps. She followed easily.

“Wow,” she said.

“When I was in the hospital, several of the nurses would dance with me. It was an easy way to get exercise. They swore one day I would find the girl I wanted to dance with. I didn’t think it was ever going to happen.”

He’d never told anyone about that before, had never had any reason to use his waltzing skills.

“You’re pretty good yourself,” he said. “What’s your excuse?”

“Mom made us take lessons. Just the girls. It was very sexist of her.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“You didn’t have three brothers making fun of you.”

“I’m confident you and your sisters were able to handle them.”

“We were, but that’s not the point.”

He bent his head and kissed her cheek then kissed her jaw. He moved his mouth against the side of her neck, across her shoulder. Her skin was warm and smelled like some exotic flower. He felt her body pressing against his and knew there was something to be said for dancing, after all. “What is the point?” he asked, referring to her previous statement.

She blinked at him. “I have no idea what we were talking about.”

He laughed. “I like that you’re easy.”

“I’m actually not. Or I guess I am, but only around you.”

He stopped dancing and looked into her eyes. “It’s the same for me, too.”

Someone bumped into them. Simon pulled her against him and began dancing again.

They danced to several more songs, drank champagne and tasted the hors d’oeuvres. He debated bond measures for local schools with the town treasurer and discussed jail versus community service with the police chief. When Montana excused herself to use the restroom, he was deep in conversation with the mayor.

“Kent and I were wondering if we could borrow the good doctor.”

Simon found himself between Kent and Ethan Hendrix.

“Of course,” Mayor Marsha said and walked away.

“Having a good time?” Ethan asked, leading Simon out the French doors and onto the lawn.

There were fewer people here. The sun had set and the stars had come out, but he didn’t think they had left the ballroom to look at the view.

“How can I help you?”

Ethan and Kent exchanged a look.

“We want to talk about Montana. At the risk of sounding like a cowboy in an old Western, what are your intentions?”

Montana was in her late twenties, had lived on her own for years and would probably shriek if she knew what her brothers were asking. But Simon got the point. These men cared about her and wanted to make sure she was taken care of.

“I’m not discussing my personal life with you.”

“Sure you are. Montana says you’re one of the good guys. Don’t make her a liar.” The dramatic statement was tempered by Ethan’s obvious sincerity.

But there were no bad guys here. He was leaving. Simon’s stay had always been temporary. He was no threat, nor was he a permanent fixture in their sister’s life.

He’d made it clear that he was leaving, hadn’t he? Still, when she called herself his girlfriend, he’d let her. And he’d been pleased. He’d mentioned he might come back to visit. Was she thinking he meant more than that?

He’d screwed up, he realized. He’d misled her in the most fundamental of ways and never realized it until now.

“Excuse me,” he said, pushing past them and returning to the ballroom.

He wove his way through the crowd, searching for the gorgeous blonde in a short black dress. The woman he planned on making love with later that night. The woman who haunted his dreams and drove him crazy every time he saw her.

He found her talking to Charity Golden.

“Hello, Charity. Do you mind if I talk to Montana for a moment?”

“Of course not.”

“Thanks.”

He took Montana’s hand and led her out of the ballroom. Not outside where her brothers might still be waiting, but back toward the entrance. He found a quiet alcove and faced her.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

He stared into her dark eyes, searching for the truth. “Do you love me?”

Her mouth parted slightly and she flushed. For a second she said nothing, then she raised her chin and spoke. “Yes, Simon, I love you.”

The words were like a kick to his gut. His muscles tensed and he found it hard to breathe.

He should’ve seen this coming, he thought as he turned his back on her. He swore under his breath. What the hell had he been thinking? She wasn’t anything like the women he was used to. Not cold, not calculating, not familiar with a man like him. He’d been nothing but selfish, thinking only of himself, of what he wanted.

He turned back to her. Her mouth curved up into a shaky smile.

“Your reaction tells me this isn’t the best of news.”

“Montana,” he began, then stopped. What was he supposed to say? How could he make this right?

His phone vibrated in his jacket pocket.

He pulled it out and flipped it open. There was a text message. Even as he began to read it, his phone rang.

“It’s Kalinda,” he said.

She gave him a push. “Go.”

He was already running, heading back to the hospital.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

KALINDA’S BODY WAS SHUTTING down. Simon knew it before he walked into her room and saw Fay and her husband in each other’s arms, weeping. He scanned her chart, then walked over to examine her, determined to figure out what was wrong.

Even though he already knew.

Fay saw him and lunged toward him. “Dr. Bradley, it’s bad. It’s really bad. You have to do something.”

“I know.”

He touched Kalinda’s face and felt the heat from her fever. The results of her latest blood work told the same story the nurse on duty had repeated when he’d arrived on the floor. The girl wasn’t responding to her treatments, her organs were failing and there was no miracle left to save her.

The burns didn’t just destroy in the moment. The damage continued long after the flames were gone. Healing exhausted the body, and the shock from what had occurred lasted far longer than anyone knew. She’d already used up her precious reserves hanging on this long.

Kalinda opened her eyes. “Hi, Dr. B. I don’t feel so good.”

He took her hand in his. “I know.”

On the other side of the bed, her parents moved next to her.

“Hey, baby,” her mother murmured. “You have to hang on. You know that, right?”

Kalinda continued to stare at him. “I hurt.”

“Can’t you give her something?” Fay demanded.

He glanced at the IV, taking in the already high dose. “She’s getting as much as she can take.”

“You have to do something.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Kalinda whispered. “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

Pain ripped through him as he watched the brave little girl trying to comfort her parents.

“We still have work to do,” Simon told her, doing his best to sound upbeat and positive.

“The surgeries don’t matter. It’s not like I can be pretty again.”

“Yes, you can. I can make you pretty.” Or at least normal, he thought grimly. Eventually that would be enough.

“No, you can’t.” Her blue eyes saw into his soul. “You’re leaving.”

He felt as if she’d shot him.

She was right, of course. How could she trust him? He’d never said he would stay. Someone else would finish what he’d started. Someone else would see her through.

He didn’t know what to say to her. There had been other children who had begged him not to go, but he’d never listened. He’d always known he was needed somewhere else. He’d left his patients, just as his doctors had left him.

The difference was his doctors had left because they had lives of their own to live. Families, commitments. He left because…

In that moment he couldn’t remember why, only that it was important.

“I’ll get better if you stay,” Kalinda whispered and held out her hand. “Pinkie promise.”

Just like Reese had pinkie promised to marry her if no one else would. For this little girl, a pinkie promise meant something.

He didn’t want to lie to her but he also wanted to save her. Staying? Impossible. Still, he moved his hand toward hers, pinkie extended.

Before they touched, the monitors began to scream. Red lights flashed and the sound of buzzing and sirens filled the small room. Kalinda’s hand dropped to the bed, her eyes rolled back in her head and she lost consciousness.

Simon took in all the data, then tossed the chart on the chair.

“Get back,” he demanded. There was no need to call for help. As soon as the alarms started, the team would be on their way.

He bent over Kalinda and tilted her head back. Even as the heart monitor flatlined, he began CPR, breathing deeply and rhythmically into her mouth.

His mind went blank as he focused on what he was doing, on the mechanics that could save her. Less than a minute after the first alarm, a swarm of people burst into the room, as the crash team responded to the alert.

He was pushed aside. He stepped back and made his way around them, then drew her parents out of the crowded room.

Fay shook with sobs. “No!” she screamed. “No! Don’t let her die. My baby. Kalinda!” She shook off his hands and threw herself at her husband. “Not now. Not like this.”

Simon stood next to them, not watching the medical team at work. He knew what they were doing from the sounds. He heard the call for medicine, the hum of the defib machine. He knew they were already too late.

He thought about telling her parents he was sorry. That sometimes this happened. But he wasn’t sorry, he was angry. Worse, he felt as if he were somehow responsible. As if he should have been able to save her.

He turned away and walked toward his office. He felt sick inside, helpless. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to save these kids.

He turned the corner and came to a stop when he saw Montana standing in front of his closed and locked office door.

She still wore the black dress she’d had on at the cocktail party, but in her arms she held Cece. The tiny poodle quivered at the sight of Simon and strained to leap into his arms.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Montana told him. “I called Max and he brought Cece to me. I thought she might help.”