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.
“I’m glad you’re growing your hair out,” Mayor Marsha told her. “It makes it so much easier to know which triplet is which. I don’t have any trouble telling you three apart, but I’ve had complaints.”
Montana laughed as she fingered the hair that had grown down to the middle of her back. “Seriously? People have complained?”
“You have no idea what I deal with on a daily basis.”
Montana led her outside. “Last year my hair was dark. That should have helped.”
“It did, although I prefer your natural blond color.” As the mayor spoke, she eyed Montana speculatively. “I wonder if Simon likes blondes.”
Montana held up both hands. “How far exactly am I supposed to go to convince him to stay in town?”
The mayor laughed again. “You don’t have to sacrifice your virtue, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Virtue as in … virtue? That ship had sailed several years ago but she wasn’t going to discuss that with someone old enough to be her grandmother.
“I’ll do my best,” she said instead.
“That’s all anyone can ask for.”
After the mayor left, Montana returned to the play area and worked with the dogs. Max was a big believer in constant reinforcement. Therapy dogs were expected to be well behaved and well trained. She worked with those dogs still in training twice a day and ran the more experienced members of the team through different sequences a few times a week.
Working with the dogs meant not having to think about the mayor’s extraordinary request. Montana knew she would have to do her best but had exactly no idea of where to start. Apologizing to the man in question was probably a good place.
At noon, she went into the house to tell Max she was heading into town for lunch and would be back in an hour. Her boss grinned when he saw her.
“Guess who called,” he said.
“Publishers Clearing House? I’ve won twenty million dollars?”
Max laughed. “Not exactly. Dr. Simon Bradley phoned. He would like to come by this afternoon.”
Montana’s appetite vanished and she had to resist the urge to whimper. “Why?”
“He wants to talk to you.”
“Talk or throw rocks at me?”
“He said talk. Maybe he wasn’t as pissed as you thought.”
Oh, he’d been plenty pissed, Montana thought as she walked to her car. The question was what he was going to do to her as punishment.
CHAPTER TWO
MONTANA SPENT THE NEXT COUPLE of hours trying not to go crazy. Although Dr. Bradley had threatened to visit, he hadn’t said when that would happen, leaving her to constantly check the long driveway leading to the house and kennels. Knowing she wasn’t at her mental best while she waited, she decided to clean out the outdoor runs.
The interior of the building had large individual kennels with raised platforms and size-appropriate beds. The space was kept heated in winter and air-conditioned in summer. Skylights and windows filled the cavernous room with light. Although several of the dogs had learned how to unfasten the simple latch on their kennels, they stayed where they were supposed to. Each dog had his or her own toys, water and a door leading to an outside area.
Pads of cement were enclosed by chain-link fencing. During the day, the dogs were either working or together in a common area. The pads were rarely used, but still got dusty. A brief rain shower the previous night had left them muddy.
Montana kicked off her sandals, stepped into a pair of rubber boots and grabbed the hose. She started spraying down the cement, reminding herself as she worked that her conversation with Dr. Bradley was going to be a great learning opportunity. With her personality, her default position was to feel guilty and act like a doormat, something she didn’t want to do anymore. So this time she would be strong.
Yes, it was unfortunate that Fluffy had escaped into the hospital. It was a mistake. Neither Montana nor the dog was mean or evil. As far as