Simon went to work. Unlike the last time, there were no tears, no requests to stop. Freddie flinched a few times, but otherwise he was completely stoic.
Montana realized Freddie had been through this before and wondered what could have happened to him. Why was he having more surgeries? Except for the lines from the cuts, he didn’t look deformed.
After Freddie there were three more children. When they were finished, Simon escorted Montana and Buddy out of the hospital.
“I have an idea,” she said. “Would you get us our coffee and I’ll meet you there in a second?”
Simon nodded. “Of course.”
While he walked toward the center of town, she and Buddy headed for her car. Fifteen minutes later, coffee in cupholders, they were driving up the mountain.
“We’re not going far,” she told him. “I know this beautiful meadow where we can talk and Buddy can run around.”
Simon reached back and patted the dog. “You’ve earned a romp.”
She pulled off the road and into a makeshift dirt parking lot. After letting Buddy out, she grabbed a blanket from the back and led the way to a meadow.
The sun was warm, the grassy area dotted with small flowers. The hum of insects mingled with birdsongs and the soft breeze. It was a perfect kind of morning in a perfect kind of place. She spread out the blanket and motioned for Simon to sit.
“Tell me about Freddie,” she said when he settled. “How did he get hurt?”
“His father. He cut him. This wasn’t the first time.”
Montana stared at him. “I don’t understand.”
“Not all parents are like yours. Some have mental or emotional problems. Some are just cruel. Freddie’s father would tie him up and then cut him with a hunting knife. His back, his chest. This is the first time he went to work on his face.”
Her chest was tight and she found it difficult to breathe. Her eyes burned. Rather than give in, she looked past Simon to where Buddy chased a butterfly—for once having fun rather than worrying.
“Why wasn’t Freddie taken away from him before now?”
Simon shrugged. “The kid didn’t say how it happened and he slipped through the cracks.”
“What kind of parent does that?”
“The bad kind. It happens more than you would think.”
Her gaze shifted to his scars as an impossible thought formed. Had one of Simon’s parents been responsible for his burns?
“I can’t believe something like that would happen in Fool’s Gold,” she whispered, because she was too afraid to ask.
“It happens everywhere, but if it makes you feel better, Freddie and his father have only been in town a few months. The E.R. staff figured it out immediately and called social services. Freddie was taken away from his father that day.”
“I’m glad. I hope he’s locked up for a long time.”
“Me, too.”
“I guess you see a lot of awful things.”
“How the wounds happened is sometimes worse than the injury itself.”
“Can you ever forget it? Does the reality haunt you?”
“I’m used to it.”
She was sure that someone in his position would have to find a way to disconnect. To compartmentalize. Still, when he was alone, there must be ghosts.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this.” He sipped his latte, then looked at her over the lid. “You don’t need to know.”
Simon should have looked out of place in his suit slacks and shirt and tie. Instead he was as relaxed as he’d ever appeared. The only place she’d seen him completely comfortable before was the hospital.
“I’m not as innocent as you think,” she told him.
He smiled. “Sure you are. You’re the kind of girl who wants to fall in love.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“No.”
Meaning not him. “You’ve never been in love?”
“Not even once.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Why? I’m content.”
“Don’t you want to be happy?”
“Happiness is elusive. My work is enough.”
She knew he was wrong, but didn’t think there was any point in telling him that.
“Why aren’t you married?” he asked.
She took a moment to adjust from interviewer to interviewee. “No one has ever asked. I’ve had a couple of serious boyfriends, but they both left. They weren’t in love with me. I wasn’t…” She shrugged. “I wasn’t enough for them. One cheated and one just broke it off. The last one kept saying I would be ‘perfect’ if I changed my clothing style, or hair cut, or makeup. It was starting to seem like a never ending list of how I could be better.”
She did her best to speak the words as if the truth didn’t hurt her.
“They were fools.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not being polite, Montana. You are the kind of woman men dream about having.”
His statement left her breathless.
“Even you?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“Especially me.” His gray-green eyes darkened. “If I was looking for something permanent.”
“Right.”
“And you’re the kind of woman who is looking for forever.”