She wasn’t sure why that mattered, then remembered something about medical confidentiality. No doubt he wanted to make sure she understood he wasn’t breaking any rules.
“She’s in bed, right? The girl? Kalinda? She’s not walking around?”
“No.”
Montana thought about the dogs they had. A small one would be best. If Kalinda suffered any lung issues, then avoiding dander would be good, too.
“I have just the dog for you,” she said, smiling at him. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”
THE WOMAN TURNED, as if she expected him to follow her. Simon didn’t want to go anywhere with the dog-trainer person, but he was here on a mission. Anything for his patients. He’d always believed that. He would do whatever he had to do so they could heal. Dealing with the likes of the woman before him was simply one more challenge he had to overcome.
As she glanced back at him, her long, blond hair caught the sun. He was aware of the colors, the various shades of light and dark gold, the slight wave. Her eyes were deep brown and sparkling with amusement. He had no doubt she was laughing at him.
He was uncomfortable, but that wasn’t news. He was uncomfortable anywhere that wasn’t a hospital. In the familiar space that was his kingdom, he felt at home.
The woman—Montana, he recalled her boss saying—led the way to a fenced in, grassy area. He heard several dogs barking and yipping. They sounded happy. The afternoon was warm, the sun bright.
Montana moved with an easy grace. Her feet were bare, her pink-painted toes contrasting with the dark green of the grass. They were hidden when she slipped into a pair of clogs, then stepped inside what he would guess was the kennel area.
The space was cleaner than he had expected. He didn’t notice any smell and the cages for the dogs were large. He saw big beds in plaid and plenty of toys. The lighting was good. It was obvious someone had put a lot of time and money into the facility.
“The dogs live here,” Montana said, facing him. “Dogs are pack animals, so they’re more comfortable in a group than in isolation. They’re nearly always with someone. We have college kids who spend the night. Just to make sure everything is all right. Sometimes they bring their significant others along and that gets interesting.”
She smiled as she spoke and it took him a minute to realize she meant the college students and not the dogs. Of course not the dogs. Dogs didn’t have significant others.
“Max has plenty of stories, but that’s not why you came,” she continued. “No.”
He knew he should make some kind of small talk. It made people more comfortable. He’d never seen the point, but then he didn’t see the point of most common rituals. Telling someone to have a nice day was beyond ridiculous. As if anyone had the power to make that happen.
She walked to a door that led outside. When she pushed it open and stepped onto the grass, at least a half dozen dogs came running. He followed, curious about them. He’d never had much contact with dogs. From the time he was eleven until he’d gone to college at sixteen, he’d been in a hospital. No dogs allowed.
Large dogs and small hurried forward with equal enthusiasm. He recognized the disastrous mutt from that morning and did his best to avoid her enthusiastic jumping. Montana petted them all, called out to a few and restored order more quickly than he had thought possible.
“Cece, come here, honey,” she said, then looked at him. “I think she’s going to be the right dog for you. Quiet, well behaved and, best of all, clean.”
A small apricot-colored poodle made her way to Montana. The dog was maybe a foot tall to the top of her head, with long legs and a slender body. When Montana said, “Up,” the dog turned so she could easily be scooped into the woman’s arms.
“She would be very happy to curl up next to Kalinda for as long as she would like,” Montana told him. “She’s great with kids, sweet tempered, and because she has hair rather than fur, no dander. We can keep her really clean, which I know is important.”
As she spoke, Cece stared at him. Her eyes were darker than Montana’s, and never left his. Her nose quivered, then her whole body began to tremble.
“Is she sick?” he asked, wondering if he should worry about transporting germs back to his patients.
Montana laughed. “Not in the way you mean.” She whispered something to the dog, who swiped her tongue across her chin. Montana turned her attention back to him. “She has a crush on you.”
“What?”
The dog was thrust toward him. He reacted instinctively, reaching for it.
She was lighter than he’d expected, with bones that felt delicate. Her fur was soft, her body warm. Even though he didn’t know how to hold her, she snuggled close, perfectly content to be next to him.
“Support her butt,” Montana told him.
He shifted slightly. Cece cuddled against his chest and stared at him with eyes that seemed able to see into his soul. He wondered if she was aware of all the flaws lurking there.
“She likes you.”