Only Yours (Fool's Gold #5)(6)

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 Montana knew, there hadn’t been any lasting damage, so Dr. Stick-Up-the-Butt was just going to have to get over it. If he thought he could come over and intimidate her, he was wrong. Well, mostly wrong.

By three she’d finished with the outdoor runs and had managed to work herself up into a frenzy of righteous indignation. Just because someone was a doctor didn’t give him the right to make people feel bad about themselves. She wouldn’t stand for it, and as soon as he got here she was going to tell him that.

She stomped over to the main faucet and turned off the water. Her feet were hot inside the rubber boots, but she still had to coil the hose before she could slip them off. She would take a few minutes, tidy herself and then—

“Max said I would find you out here.”

The low, masculine voice came from nowhere. Montana spun toward the sound, nearly tripping over the boots and dropping the hose. Good thing the water was already off, she thought as she managed to stay upright and face the intruder. Or maybe not.

He was more amazing than she remembered. Not just the height or the broad shoulders. No, the thing that made him different, the thing that would make him impossible to forget was his face. The sheer perfection of his bone structure, the fullness of his mouth, the unusual color of his eyes. Even the sunlight seemed to shimmer around him as if it, too, were impressed.

He’d traded in his white doctor’s coat for a long-sleeved, white, button-down shirt with gray pinstripes. His tie was loose and, on anyone else, that would have been sexy. Except he was too stiff in the way he stood, too controlled. As if he weren’t comfortable being as mortal as everyone else.

“You know Max?” she asked, unable to think of another question and equally unable to stop staring at him. “You seem more the ‘Mr. Thurman’ type.”

He frowned. “Is that his last name? He introduced himself as Max.”

Which was like her boss. She shouldn’t be surprised.

Her visitor shifted then, turning his head slightly, and she caught sight of the scars. Once again she noticed the starlike pattern of the way they shot across his face. The scars should have made her sympathetic and him appear more human.

“It was an accident,” she told him, clumping toward him in her too-large rubber boots.

When she was only a few feet away, she came to a stop and put her hands on her hips. “You know there are accidents. What you do for a living proves that. No one hurts a child on purpose. Okay, a few do, but I would guess the kids you usually see have been hurt because of something unexpected. That’s what today was about.”

She didn’t know why he’d wanted to see her but guessed it had something to do with threatening her, or worse.

“Obviously Fluffy isn’t therapy-dog material,” she continued, speaking quickly so he couldn’t talk. “Max warned me, but I didn’t listen. I wanted her to make it because she has such a good heart. She loves everyone. Maybe not gracefully or obediently, but there’s still love and that’s not wrong. I wanted to give her the chance to prove herself. I know you don’t understand, but I swear if you say she’s just a dog, I’ll attack you with this hose and make you scream like a girl.”

She took a breath, waiting for him to laugh, or smile or start yelling. Instead he stood as still as stone, watching her.

She let her breath out. He was a medical professional. Was he going to tell her there was something seriously wrong with her? And if he did, would she have to listen?

Montana stepped out of her rubber boots. If she was about to be drummed out of her perfect career, she wasn’t going to endure it with her feet sweating.

“Say something,” she commanded. “Or did you come all this way to attack me with your ray gun vision?”

“What do you do here?”

She frowned. “Excuse me?”

He motioned to the kennel behind her. “Tell me about the work you do.”

Maybe it was just her, but wasn’t he the one with the advanced medical training?

“I work with therapy dogs.”

His eyes narrowed slightly and his mouth tightened.

Figures, she thought. She’d finally gotten him to show a little emotion and it turned out to be annoyance. Be careful for what you wish for and all that.

“Therapy dogs are used for a variety of purposes. They’re different from service dogs, who are trained to help people with specific problems. Like Guide Dogs for the Blind and so on.”

He nodded. “All right.”

“Okay.” She paused, not sure what he wanted to know. “Our dogs are used to provide comfort and companionship. We visit nursing homes and the hospital. Seniors’ centers. There are a couple of dogs who spend afternoons at a group home for mentally challenged adults. I recently started a reading program. Kids who have trouble reading are often more comfortable reading to a dog than a person.”

She explained a little about the program and how, now that school was out, they’d gotten permission to try the reading program at a local library.

“You mentioned hospitals, which means you bring dogs to hospitals.” He was making a statement, not asking a question.

“Yes. Usually the visits go better than they did today.”

“I should think so.”