Only Yours (Fool's Gold #5)(93)

“I know you will.” The mayor smiled at her. “You come from a long line of strong women. The women of the Máa-zib tribe were warriors.”

Montana laughed. “While I would love to claim them as ancestors, my family moved here. I’m not a descendant.”

“True, but their strength is all around us. The trees, the leaves, the very air carries their essence. You are one of them, Montana. They are very proud of you.”

The words should have frightened her. Instead she felt oddly proud and a little sniffly. “I hope so.”

“I know so.” Marsha smiled at her. “Now, don’t worry. I’m not getting senile or getting weird. I’m speaking the truth.”

Reese ran up to them. “Something’s wrong with Dr. Bradley,” he announced.

Montana was instantly on her feet. “What happened?” An accident? Had he been hurt?

“He’s gone crazy. People saw him running back to the hotel. He was talking to himself. Then he got in his fancy car and put the top down. He drove up the mountain and he was yelling at someone, only no one was there.”

“That can’t be good,” Marsha murmured.

Montana was already hurrying toward her house, where her car was parked. “I’ll go after him,” she called over her shoulder.

She had no idea what had happened, but if Simon needed her, she would be there.

SIMON DROVE UP the winding road easily, his Mercedes convertible hugging the curves. The sun beat down on him, mocking him with light and warmth. Rain would have been better, he thought grimly. A howling wind.

It had taken a few minutes to get out of town, what with all the tourist traffic. Once he got onto the mountain road, there were a few guys on bikes and no one else.

He knew exactly where he was going—to the meadow where Montana had taken him. A quiet place, spiritual, some might say. An excellent location for the final battle.

As he navigated each turn, his mind fought conflicting ideas. Trapped or protected. Stay or escape. He’d never questioned his choices before. Had never wondered.

The groundbreaking ceremony for the new hospital was only a few weeks away. He could be a part of that, if he wanted. Determine the direction, the focus. He could develop a program that was the best in the world, bring in other specialists, make a difference on an ongoing basis.

He could still travel a few weeks a year. Go somewhere remote—heal those without hope. He wouldn’t have to completely give that up. Other people would say it made sense.

He could stay here, have a home, a life. He could be a part of something and belong.

He drove higher and higher, finally pulling off onto a dirt road that led to a clearing, where he parked his car and got out. He walked through the dense trees and bushes, not sure where he was going until he broke free and was in a clearing.

He walked to the center and stared up at the sky.

“I won’t do this anymore,” he yelled. “I won’t be held hostage. I’ve worked hard—harder than most. I deserve this. I deserve to be happy. You hear me? You hear me?”

His words echoed around him, followed by the sound of thrashing in the woods. He half expected to be attacked by a mountain lion or wolf, but eventually the sound faded and Simon was alone.

He closed his eyes.

He couldn’t keep doing this, he thought wearily. He couldn’t keep walking away. Especially not this time. Not from the town or his patients, and not from Montana.

“I won’t give her up,” he said, opening his eyes and raising his arms to the heavens.

He stood there waiting, knowing he would be struck down. Perhaps by lightning, perhaps by something else.

There was only silence. The sky remained clear and blue, the air warm.

He heard more rustling and turned to see Montana breaking through the brush. He dropped his arms to his side.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“That’s my question. You know, you’re frightening the hikers. Try not to do that. We need the tourist revenue.”

She crossed to him, her expression concerned. “Want to talk about it?”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I have witnesses who would testify otherwise.”

Her brown eyes never wavered. He read the love there, and the certainty. He thought about all she’d given him, how she trusted him, believed in him. How she didn’t see the scars anymore.

He swore, then ripped off his shirt. The sun beat down on him, illuminating the ugliness that marred his chest and back. He took her hand in his and pressed it to his heart.

“This is who I am. I will never be perfect, never be like everyone else. I’m only as good as the work I do and if I lose that…”

She took both his hands in hers. “You’re not defined by what you do. While your work is extraordinary and a gift, it’s not who you are. You will always be defined by what is inside of you. Your strength, your determination, your relentless pursuit of the best for your patients. You’re a good man with a heart so big, you’ve been afraid that if you opened it up, even a little, you would be swallowed whole.”

She smiled gently. “I have a secret to tell you. Love doesn’t make you weak. It makes you strong. Stronger than you’ve ever imagined. You’ve spent your whole life in the service of others. Maybe it’s time to have a little something for yourself.”