Only Yours (Fool's Gold #5)

Even as he started to walk toward her, he stopped himself. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Would he really sacrifice all he was, all he had, for a fleeting dream of happiness?

While those words had worked in the past, today he rebelled against them, wanting to take on those who determined his fate. Suddenly suffocated by the crowd, he hurried back to the hotel. He needed answers, he thought grimly, and he only knew one way to get them.

MONTANA KNEW SHE’D PUT OFF the inevitable for long enough. It was time to confess all and take her punishment.

Finding Mayor Marsha was relatively easy. She was at the festival with Charity and her new great-granddaughter. Montana admired the baby and then asked Marsha if they could talk for a second.

“Of course.”

The mayor led the way to a bench, her sleeping great-granddaughter still in her arms.

When they sat down, Montana angled toward her. “I’m sorry,” she began. “I failed. Simon is leaving.”

“My dear girl, I’m far more concerned about you. I heard the two of you weren’t together anymore. How are you?”

“I’m getting by.” If one considered living with a hole the size of Utah in one’s heart “getting by.”

“I miss him.”

“You love him.”

“Yeah, well, that wasn’t part of the plan, was it? You asked me to help convince him to settle in Fool’s Gold. Falling in love was my own fault.”

“Love is rarely a bad thing. I’m sorry for my part. If I hadn’t thrown you two together, none of this would have happened.”

“Don’t say that,” Montana told her. “I’m not sorry. Simon is an amazing man. Maybe I won’t get my happy ending, but I have wonderful memories of my time with him. I really liked being with him and who I was around him. He helped me see that all the choices in my life have led me to where I am. To where I belong. I’m hurting, but I’ll heal.”

“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.