Only Yours. Сьюзен Мэллери

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СКАЧАТЬ She could also fit in the same clothes. Her blond hair was short and stylish. She understood why younger men were interested in her mother, even though she didn’t want to hear about it.

      For a second, she thought about mentioning Max. Her boss was about the right age and in the year Montana had known him, he’d never been out with anyone. At least she didn’t think he’d been on a date. They didn’t exactly talk about their personal lives. So, he was a possibility. Except for the issue of the name Max tattooed on her mother’s hip. Whoever that Max was, their relationship had been very intense. There might be name associations her mother wouldn’t appreciate.

      “Your sister told me about your conversation with Mayor Marsha,” her mother said.

      “We really don’t have to talk about that.” She glanced at the clock, wishing someone would show up. Anyone would be a distraction.

      “It’s nice of you to help the town. What’s he like?”

      “Quiet.” A great kisser. But that was a factoid she was not going to share with her mother.

      “Do you think you’ll be seeing him again?”

      Before Montana could figure out how to answer, the phone rang.

      Saved by the bell, she thought humorously.

      Her mother reached for the receiver. “Hello?”

      Montana turned toward the refrigerator to get herself something to drink. But a sixth sense made her turn around.

      “Are you sure?” Denise asked, her face going white. “I’m sorry. Of course you’re sure. Yes. We’ll be right there.”

      She hung up the phone, then pressed her hand against her midsection. Tears filled Denise’s eyes.

      Montana was at her side in an instant. “What is it? What happened?” She could feel her mother shaking.

      “There’s been a car accident. Kent and Reese. They’re on their way to the hospital.”

      Montana was already grabbing her purse. “We’ll meet them there.”

      CHAPTER FIVE

      MONTANA TOLD HERSELF to keep her attention on the road. What she wanted to do was panic. Instead, she was going to be strong. If anyone had the right to freak out, it was her mother.

      “I wish they’d told us more,” her mother said, clutching her hands together and straining in the seat as if willing them to go faster.

      Montana resisted the urge to speed. They were driving through the center of town and there were pedestrians everywhere. She wasn’t willing to hurt someone just to get to the hospital a few seconds more quickly.

      “Two more minutes,” she said, signaling to turn into the hospital parking lot. “I’m going to pull up in front of the emergency room. You go in and I’ll park.”

      Denise nodded and jumped out of the car.

      Montana found a parking space, but before getting out, she paused and sent off a brief prayer that everyone was going to be all right.

      She hurried across the parking lot and through the automatic doors. Relief washed through her when she saw her brother Kent holding her mother. He looked shaken and pale, and had a bandage across his forehead, but otherwise he was all right.

      Kent looked up and saw her. He freed one arm and held it open to her. She ran into his embrace.

      “I’m okay,” he was saying. “Reese is going to need surgery.” His voice shook as he said the words. “He got cut pretty bad. Mostly his face, some on his arm. They’re telling me the injuries aren’t life threatening, but they scared the hell out of me.” He swallowed.

      Montana sensed he wanted to say more, to share the experience. But he was holding back because of their mother. No doubt he was concerned that too many details would upset her. Montana had a feeling that the details involved a lot of bleeding and knew her brother was making the right decision. They could catch up on the specifics later.

      She drew back slightly and studied him. Like his brothers, Kent was tall and broad shouldered, with dark hair and dark eyes. He looked a lot like their dad. Handsome, with an inner strength.

      “Where is Reese now?” Denise asked.

      “Being prepped for surgery.”

      Before he could say more, a doctor approached him. The badge on her coat said Dr. Lawrence. Montana had seen her around the hospital and knew she had a good reputation.

      “Reese is just fine,” the doctor told Kent. “He’s calm—we’ve given him something for the pain. He should be in surgery in the next half hour or so.” She gave them a warm smile. “The best news I have to give you is that the doctor who will be working on your son is extraordinary. I would go so far as to say gifted. If there is one surgeon I would pick to work on my child it would be Dr. Bradley.”

      Montana blinked at her. “Simon is going to do the surgery?”

      “You know Dr. Bradley?” Dr. Lawrence asked.

      She felt everyone looking at her. “Yes. I take one of my therapy dogs to see one of his patients.” She turned to her mother and brother. “Simon, ah, Dr. Bradley, is a renowned plastic surgeon. He mostly works on burn patients.”

      Dr. Lawrence nodded. “That’s true. He’s just finishing up surgery on a boy right now. As soon as he’s ready, we’ll take Reese in to him. The surgery itself shouldn’t take very long.”

      They were given a few more details, told where to wait. When Dr. Lawrence left, Montana took her mother’s arm and leaned against her brother.

      “It’s going to be okay,” she told him. “Dr. Bradley is the best.”

      “I’m relieved,” Kent admitted, leading the way to the waiting room.

      They settled onto surprisingly comfortable chairs, clustered close together. Their conversation was more idle chitchat than anything meaningful. Just something to pass the time while they each privately worried.

      Nevada showed up next. Dakota was there a few minutes later, baby Hannah in her arms. Hugs were exchanged while everyone was brought up to date. Then Ethan and Liz arrived and they went through it all again.

      As everyone talked, Montana realized this was what families did. They comforted each other, they waited in hospitals, they prayed. No matter what happened, she would always have this. People who loved her and would worry, and wait. She was one of six children and didn’t know any other way to live.

      Out of nowhere, a thought occurred to her. What about Simon? Who waited and worried for him?

      SIMON MADE THE LAST, impossibly small, even stitch. The procedure had been straightforward. The cuts looked worse than they were. Not too deep, not too wide. There might be some minor scarring but he doubted it.

      He stood in the operating room while the boy was wheeled to recovery. Most surgeons would have left already. He didn’t linger out of concern. Instead he waited because he knew what was СКАЧАТЬ