Only Yours (Fool's Gold #5)(45)

Buddy looked at her, a faintly worried frown pulling his doggie eyebrows together.

She’d debated which dog would be right for the event, and had settled on Buddy. Children sensed he was a worrier and spent their time reassuring him. Focusing on something else was probably a good thing. Plus, he was big enough for the little ones to lean on and he always loved a heartfelt hug.

As they made their way to the clinic, she reminded herself that she was here in a professional capacity. She should be grateful that Simon trusted her and her dogs to assist him.

“Not technically,” she added to Buddy as they went in through the main doors. “I don’t think removing stitches would be something you’d do well. No offense.”

Buddy glanced at her as if to say none was taken.

They made their way to the clinic. Buddy’s service dog vest allowed them to pass through the various departments with hardly a second glance.

As she approached the nurses’ station, she was greeted by an efficient-looking nurse in her forties.

“Dr. Bradley said you would be here.” She smiled cheerfully. “He’s been telling me what a difference your service dogs can make. I’m looking forward to seeing this one in action.”

She reached out and petted Buddy, who responded calmly, wagging his tail. But his frown deepened as if he was concerned about the added pressure.

Montana was more confused by Simon saying nice things about her. Obviously he understood the dogs could help—otherwise, why bother inviting her? But to talk to someone else about what she did was unexpected.

The nurse showed her to a small examining room. A tray sat on the counter. Although it was covered, she imagined all sorts of shiny, sharp medical tools and instantly understood why the waiting children would be apprehensive.

She glanced around, taking in the padded table where the patients would sit, the extra chairs on the side of the room, the bright overhead lights. Not exactly a friendly setting.

The door opened and Simon stepped in. She felt an instant surge of excitement, hope and, well, lust.

“Good morning,” he said briskly. “Thank you for coming to the clinic.”

His impersonal words, the way he barely glanced at her, deflated her anticipation.

“We’re happy to help. This is Buddy.”

Simon surprised her by crouching so he was eye level with the dog. “Nice to meet you, Buddy.” He rubbed the dog’s ears. Buddy perked up at the attention.

“He’s very friendly,” she said as Simon straightened. “But he always looks concerned. Kids respond to that by reassuring him. I thought that might distract them.”

“A good idea.”

She might as well have been anyone on the staff, she thought sadly. Apparently he’d recovered from his need to be with her. No more kissing for her.

The nurse stuck her head in. “They’re ready, Doctor.”

“Give me a couple of minutes and send the first one in.”

“Sure.”

She stepped out.

Simon crossed to the sink and washed his hands. When he was done, he dried them, then pulled on gloves. “It doesn’t take long to remove stitches. Assuming no complications, we should be out of here in about an hour. Would you like to go get coffee with me?”

She was so busy being sad, she almost missed the invitation. “I have Buddy,” she said, stumbling over the words.

“The Starbucks has outdoor seating.”

“Right. Um, sure. That would be nice.”

“Good.”

The first patient was brought into the room.

Her name was Mindy and she was twelve years old. Simon explained that she’d been cut by flying glass when a neighborhood kid had thrown a baseball through a plate-glass window. She had stitches along her jawline and down the side of her neck.

“That must have been scary,” Montana said as Mindy hugged Buddy.

“It was. There was blood everywhere.” She sounded both horrified and proud.

“We’re still getting it out of the carpet,” her mother joked.

Mindy climbed on the table. Simon pulled a chair up next to it and motioned for Buddy to jump up on the chair. Mindy wrapped her arms around him, while keeping the stitches facing Simon.

“What are you going to do this weekend?” he asked, as he began to snip the stitches.

Montana had never seen him work before and was impressed by how quickly he removed each stitch. There was a sureness in his movements. Utter confidence.

“We’re going to the Summer Festival,” Mindy said, her face turned away. “We go every year. It’s one of my favorites, although I like all the stuff we do at Christmas, too.”

“I’ve never been to Summer Festival.”

Shocked, she looked at him. “You have to go. It’s the best. There are rides and booths and elephant ears.”

“What are elephant ears?”

Her eyes widened. “They’re delicious. All warm, with powdered sugar.”

“They go right to my thighs,” her mother murmured.

“Ow.”

Simon’s fingers never slowed. “We’re almost done.”

Tears filled Mindy’s eyes. “Can you stop now?”

Buddy gently whimpered and pressed the top of his head against her chest.

She turned her attention to the dog. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”