Читать книгу The Promise - Robyn Carr, Robyn Carr - Страница 8

Three

Peyton didn’t expect to find adequate housing in Thunder Point; she was fully prepared to search out an apartment or duplex in a nearby town, even one as far away as North Bend. First of all, she was looking for a tailor-made lease—month to month or three months, but she couldn’t commit to anything longer. Second, she no longer had her own furnishings.

“This is an amazing coincidence,” Ray Anne Dysart said. “This absolutely never happens. I got a call this morning from a part-time resident. They come up here from Sacramento to get out of the summer heat—usually stay about five months, from May through September, but couldn’t make it up here yet this year and looks like they won’t. Health issues. They said if I could rent it for a few months to a responsible tenant, they’d appreciate it. I haven’t even seen the inside. Want to have a look?”

“Sure,” Peyton said.

“The daughter called. She said there might be a few personal items left in the house—they really thought they’d be back. And the daughter can’t get up here for a couple of weeks, but asked if I’d box up anything that’s real personal and she’ll come for it. I have no idea what that means. Let’s check it out.”

It was a very small two-bedroom, a duplex with a small patio with a six foot fence around it, just like many apartment complex patios. The decor was altogether too fussy for Peyton—crocheted toilet tissue cozies, driftwood accents here and there, a fishing net strung on the kitchen wall with hooks in it for oven mitts, dish towels and other paraphernalia. There were also family pictures on tables and walls, baskets holding shells and lots of seaside-themed throw pillows. But the furniture was attractive and comfortable. The place would have a welcoming air about it, once the crafty doodahs and family pictures had been removed. It was only a few blocks from the clinic—a few more to the marina and beach.

“This will do nicely,” she said to Ray Anne. “I told Dr. Grant I could give him three months. Can you check with the owners about that time frame?”

“Sure. Do you have a lot of stuff to move?”

“I’m not going to move furniture for just a few months, especially since this place is nicely furnished. I have a few things I want to fetch from my brother’s house where they’re stored—my own linens, a couple of rugs, a few kitchen items I’m attached to. You know—creature comforts. Can we poke around closets and drawers and see what kind of things were left behind that have to be packed up?”

Peyton would buy new before admitting she had left her last address with practically nothing. She had a turntable and valuable vinyl record collection, her grandmother’s lace dresser scarf that she’d tatted herself, linen placemats and matching napkins, her other grandmother’s antique hand-tooled serving platters, things she wouldn’t invite her sisters or sisters-in-law to use or she might not see them again. There were some old crystal wineglasses and a decanter. And she had some carefully chosen art that she’d had boxed at a gallery for storage because there had been no place for them in Ted’s house.

In fact, that’s about all that was left. When she’d moved in with Ted, she stored most of her furniture with George—he had room in the basement of his house. Little by little they’d gone the way of family members who needed them. Her four-poster bed was “loaned” to a niece who needed a bed; the dresser eventually made its way to the same bedroom. Her mother’s antique pie safe and dry sink was being used by Ginny. “It looks so perfect in my house!” Ginny had said. Her sofa, love seat and accent tables had gone into Ted’s game room where they were beaten to death by his kids. She no longer liked them and had left them behind. Her antique rolltop desk was in Adele’s little apartment in San Francisco where it was being loved. Her kitchen table and chairs were with Ellie and her family; it would never be the same. She wouldn’t loan the art—she knew how that worked. Although things were always “borrowed,” they seemed to never be returned. They weren’t thieves by any means. They were merely presumptuous relatives. And passive-aggressively forgetful.

Many of Peyton’s favorite things had made their way into Ted’s house—her Crock-Pot, a set of dishes and glassware, toaster oven, stainless-steel flatware, some very nice bath towels. Most of it wasn’t worth packing up when it had been time to leave. In fact, she’d been on the verge of leaving, trying to make herself do it, when something that simply crushed her happened. She’d told the kids never to touch her turntable or the original vinyl record collection she kept stored in their bedroom. But then she came home from an errand, heard the sound of the original Beatles album she’d had for years coming from her bedroom. She heard it skipping. It was marred with a deep scratch, as were several other records...and she fell into tears. Twelve-year-old Pam had screeched, “You’re just plain stupid! It’s just a stupid record! We don’t even have records anymore!” When Ted had gotten home that night, Peyton was packing a couple of suitcases and some boxes. She’d explained it was the last straw, and he’d said, “I have to agree with Pam to an extent. Leaving over a broken record is pretty stupid. I’ll buy you another. I’m sure it wasn’t malicious.”

“It was completely malicious!” she’d said. “Everything is malicious! And there isn’t another—it’s a collector’s item!”

“What is it you want, Peyton? Do you want me to go drag her out of her room and force her to apologize?”

“Yes!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he had said. “Grow up.”

“How can you, the most sensitive doctor I’ve ever worked with, be so insensitive?” she had asked.

She had packed everything she could and went to the farm. There had been things missing from her closet that she knew she’d never see again—boots, shirts, sweaters, blazers. If she could have summoned the energy, she would have searched Krissy’s and Pam’s rooms. She hadn’t had the strength. She’d stuffed her car with everything she could and told Ted she’d be at the farm for a couple of weeks. She had a lot of vacation coming. “I’ll commute to work from the farm after I take a little time to think things through, to recuperate.”

“Maybe we should just make a clean break,” Ted had said. “You’re through with me, that’s obvious. I don’t see how we can work closely together after this.”

“Who will do my job? Take my patients?” Peyton had asked.

He’d given her a shrug, hands in his pockets. “I’ll find someone. Maybe I should just give Lindsey a chance, see what she can do.”

“She’s an RN,” Peyton had said. “She’s twenty-five. Inexperienced.”

“She’s ambitious. Resourceful.”

And suddenly Peyton had known. How had she never guessed? She slowly turned to him. “How long?” she’d asked.

“How long?” he’d echoed.

“You’re seeing her, I can tell. How long have you been involved with her?”

“Involved is too strong a word. We’ve developed a...well, I guess it’s a close friendship. You’ve been pushing me away. You’ve been hell to live with the last year. Be honest, Peyton, you know it’s true. You hate it here. You don’t want me anymore. I don’t think we can go forward from this point. I’ll give you a good recommendation.”

“You bastard,” she’d whispered. “I don’t need your recommendation. I’m very well known in the medical community in Portland. Lindsey will need your recommendation!”

“I’ll give you a generous severance,” he’d said.

“Mail it to the farm,” she’d said, lifting a box and carrying it out to her car.

Peyton shook herself back to the present. She smiled at Ray Anne. “I’ll just get together a few things and move in, if that’s all right,” she said. “I’ll visit with my parents overnight while I load up.”

“Let’s call the owner’s daughter and figure out this lease right now,” Ray Anne said, getting comfortable at the kitchen table and opening up her briefcase.

And it was done. Forty-eight hours later she was packing the left-behind linens and clothing and some of the owner’s kitchen wares into boxes. She would store them in the second bedroom until they could be picked up. She went through the canned goods and spices and checked dates, thinning out that supply. There wasn’t much for her to deal with. She got out some of her own things to use in the kitchen, hung one of her paintings and put out a few of her own family pictures. The fishnet came down. She put her precious turntable and record collection on its small display case—the only piece of furniture she’d brought—and placed it against the living room wall. And she played Johnny Mathis, Funny Girl and Yentl. She had great speakers and blasted the music, singing along with it. Singing was a Basque tradition, except mostly the men sang the folk songs. Just as well—Peyton wanted to sing with Etta James or Barbra.

Alone, in her new little duplex with her own bathroom, bookcase, garage, bedroom and kitchen, she would dance! She realized for the first time in a long time, she felt safe. And as long as she didn’t think of Ted and his family, she was no longer lonely. When her thoughts drifted that way, she was reminded that she’d really, truly thought she could do it. She’d thought she could make a life with him and love his kids and somehow make a difference, even if she couldn’t cajole them into loving her. Or even liking her.

Feeling like a failure was every bit as hard as feeling rejected.

Peyton had been called a perfectionist. She had never been insulted by that. She worked at things until they were absolutely as good as they could be. How could there be anything wrong with that? With trying your hardest?

Hell to live with? she asked herself. Maybe I’m just better off alone.

* * *

Devon held up the dress she would wear for her wedding. It was an unpretentious floral sundress with a wrap for evening. She was dressing at Cooper’s house because hers still smelled like paint and sawdust. They would have a little exchange of vows on Cooper’s deck with about a dozen guests, toast the marriage and then Devon would kiss Mercy and Austin and leave them with Cooper and Sarah, and off they would go.

“I don’t approve of the simplicity of this,” Laine Carrington said. “I understand, but I so don’t approve. I wanted you to have dancing, drinking, craziness, lots of food, too much to clean up and many hangovers.”

Devon laughed at her best friend. “You’ll get over it. This is absolutely what we want.”

And so it was. There were just a few couples and Scott and Rawley. Sarah and Cooper hosted and provided champagne, Gina and Mac McCain were there, Carrie James brought the hors d’oeuvres from her deli and put out a very nice spread before the nuptials, including a beautiful, small wedding cake. Mac’s aunt Lou and her husband, Joe, and Ray Anne and her boyfriend, Al, rounded out the group. Laine brought her significant other, Eric. And of course, the kids Mercy and Austin were there, being very well behaved. Devon’s suitcase was packed for a little getaway and was in the back of Spencer’s car

A woman named Lynette Tremain, an ordained minister from Bandon, presided. Right at seven in the evening, when the sun was beginning its downward path and before it reached its glorious moment of touching the Pacific horizon, Lynette gave a very short wedding sermon about the beauty of second chances, of rebirth and renewal since Spencer was a widower and Devon’s daughter had been conceived and born in a commune. For them, this was a new start, a new life.

The vows were spoken, the kisses and congratulations bestowed, the champagne poured, and the cake was cut. Devon and Spencer stayed another hour to visit with their guests, but Spencer was very eager to whisk his bride away. Before leaving, Devon took Scott aside. “I called Peyton’s cell phone and left her a voice mail, telling her I’d be out of town for a few days, and I gave her your cell phone number. I told her you thought you’d manage just fine, but if she wanted to stop by...”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “She might feel obligated. I managed just fine before you started working at the clinic.”

“Well, that’s true, except for the ‘just fine’ part.”

“Was that an insult? Because I bought you a nice wedding gift!”

“You’re wonderful with the patients, Scott. But when I started, there were months of backed-up paperwork and your files were...” She made a face. “Really, you have to stick to medicine.”

“We all have our weak spots. But it wasn’t that bad.”

“I’ll be back in five days. Just leave everything on my desk. I’ll straighten it out when I get back. And if you have any questions—”

“I’m not calling you on your honeymoon!” he said.

“No, you shouldn’t,” she said. “But if you have any questions or if you get in a mess, you should try Peyton. She knows her way around a doctor’s office.”

“I don’t want to impose....”

“Scott, she wants to work for you. Don’t suffer in silence.” Then she hugged him.

Devon then found Sarah. “Now, if anything starts up, if you feel the slightest twinge announcing the baby—you call me! We’re not going to be that far away. We’ll come straight back if the baby decides to come.”

“I’m going to hold my knees together,” Sarah said. “But only for you! There isn’t a single other person on the planet I would do this for. And if I have my way, the second you’re back, I’m pushing.”

Devon giggled. “It’ll be soon.”

She found Rawley and gave him a hug. It was Rawley who’d given her refuge in Thunder Point and thus a second chance at happiness. “Thank you, for everything, Rawley. Will you help Cooper and Sarah with the kids?”

“Don’t I always?” he asked.

“You always do,” she said.

“I was just wonderin’ one thing, chickadee. How’s Thunder Point workin’ out for you?”

She laughed at him and said, “It’ll do. Now, I’ll be back in five days, but if you need me...”

“Aw, I don’t need nothin’, chickadee. I just need my people settled and right with the world. What more is there?”

“Well, as it turns out, there’s true love,” Devon said with a laugh.

He gave a nod. “I think that coach fella is okay,” he said.

“Thanks, Rawley,” she said with a smile. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

* * *

Getting settled in a very small furnished duplex had been almost as simple as moving into a hotel room. Peyton made a run to Costco and Target for new linens and a few accessories and then spent the rest of her time getting to know the town. She’d already been to the beach and Cooper’s bar, so on Saturday she went to the diner where she met Gina, who was more than happy to tell her about the town. Based on Gina’s recommendation, she planned to go to Cliffhanger’s for a glass of wine and a peek at the menu. She dropped by Carrie’s Deli for a salad to take home and knew at once she had found the place to buy her lunches for the next three months. Carrie had a wonderful array of premade sandwiches, one-person pizzas, microwavable breakfast burritos and egg-and-sausage sandwiches. And she also had spectacular take-out dinners, from chicken parmesan to turkey lasagna—ready for the oven. “I may never have to go to the grocery store again!” Peyton exclaimed.

“Suits me fine,” Carrie said. “I’m always trying new recipes. I keep menus up-to-date for the next catering job. Next week I’m doing a big batch of stuffed mushrooms—a real crowd pleaser around here.”

“I’ll be here!”

That night, Peyton decided to take a walk on the beach. Although it was summer, she needed her sweater; the Pacific was cold, especially at night. There were quite a few people on the beach walking dogs, strolling hand in hand, teens setting up for a campfire. She stayed close to the water’s edge, keeping out of the way of others, but that didn’t stop them from nodding hello. She assumed if she hadn’t been walking alone, head mostly down, some of them might stop to talk.

She went all the way to the dock and sat on the edge. From there she could see the entire beach and bay, and it was a beautiful, clear night. Ordinarily she might walk up the stairs to Cooper’s deck where several people sat, having just enjoyed a beautiful sunset. There were candles on the tables, and right next door, at Cooper’s home, she could not mistake a few Tiki torches lighting up his deck. That was where Devon’s wedding would have taken place—among the torches. She could see a few men standing around and women sitting in deck chairs; she heard their laughter over the waves. She’d stay down here, out of the way. If she sat on the deck at the bar, someone from Cooper’s house might see her and wave her over. Devon had extended an invitation, though at the last minute. She didn’t want to intrude. She was a newcomer here, not a part of their group of friends. Plus, she was in no mood for a wedding tonight.

After about nine months of dating Ted and working with him, frequently spending the night when he didn’t have the kids, he’d asked her to move in with him. “I don’t know, Ted,” she had said. “Your kids haven’t really warmed up to me. I don’t know why—I always thought I got along well with kids.”

“They’re just moody,” he’d said. “Kids that age are.”

“It might be best just to stay as we are. I’ll be happy to have dinner with you and your kids, but then I’ll go home to my place. Until they’re done being ‘moody.’”

“You practically live with me now,” he’d said. “Almost every day the kids aren’t with me, you spend the night. And I love it.”

She remembered fighting the idea. They didn’t like her and she knew it. As it was, the minute Olivia, the ex-wife, learned that Ted had a girlfriend, the scheduling problems began. Olivia was a geologist who researched fault lines and tsunamis. She was tired of her career taking the backseat to Ted’s, so she took full advantage of Peyton being available to tend them, chauffer them, even sit in on meetings at school if necessary. If Ted was to have the kids from Friday afternoon until Sunday night, Olivia found reasons to add a couple of days or just change the days altogether. She had business trips, pleasure trips she’d been deprived of for too long, extended work days.

Ted had no one to ask for help but Peyton—he had patients having heart attacks! And of course, the kids had activities and events, ranging from concerts to meets and games. Too often Ted had been tied up with patients and needed Peyton to pick up the kids, take them home, try to get them started on homework, get something together for dinner. And had they been grateful? Oh, God, no! They’d been miserable.

“I’ll make it perfectly clear to the kids that this is the arrangement and they’ll welcome you, treat you with respect, or they’ll be in serious trouble.”

Uh, right. He’d given that a little lip service and they were more careful—to be sure their father wasn’t around when they hurled insults or ignored her requests. She was never quite sure if he had a lot of divorce guilt or if he was just passive-aggressive. He certainly didn’t have that affliction at work; he had no problem taking an employee to task or making sure a patient had the difficult but necessary message. At the end of the day she decided, sadly, he just didn’t give a shit. He had delegated. To her.

That was when she also realized, early in their live-in relationship, that Olivia wasn’t willing to make any sacrifices to parent her children, either.

Peyton told herself those kids had no one. Neither of their parents really seemed to care about them. They had very good reasons for having little time—they were both successful. But the kids... Those bad kids. No role models, no loving parents, just caretakers like Peyton. It was beyond sad. No wonder they were so ill behaved.

When she’d moved in, Nicholas had been eight, Pamela had been ten, Krissy had been thirteen. She had asked herself so often how she had lasted over two years under the same roof with them. Her first year with Ted, she’d helped with the kids but hadn’t moved in. The third year, the last year, had been miserable because she was at the end of her rope with the kids and Ted. But that second year? There had been respites every week when Olivia took the kids and Peyton’s work life and home life was calm and serene. On those days she’d reexamined her love for Ted and believed without a doubt that if not for the kids and their lack of discipline and respect, she could be very happy with the man. He was strong and affectionate and generous. And he loved her so much—he said so all the time. It took almost a whole year for her to figure out that his schedule was much better when it was only Peyton and not his children cluttering up his life.

At first her parents had doubted the situation was as severe as she described it. “Oh, honey,” her mother had said, “it can’t be that bad. What are they but kids! They’re not very old. You have your boundaries, make sure they know your limits, reinforce. We had eight, and our household was sometimes loud and messy, but we managed just fine.”

Then she’d taken Ted and the kids to the farm. Pam hadn’t wanted to tour the farm or orchard, so she’d gone upstairs to the bedroom she was sharing with Krissy and closed herself in the room with her iPad. Krissy wasn’t about to eat the dinner she was served. Pam didn’t enjoy gathering eggs with Peyton so she threw them on the ground and laughed like a hyena at the splatter. Nicholas switched the channel on the TV, and when he was told it was Gramp’s choice now because he’d put in a long day, he pitched a fit. When told there weren’t televisions in every bedroom, he threw himself on the floor and screamed until he was blue, and Ted had had to carry him outside. Krissy kicked the dog, Pam threw a cat out of her way. Nicholas deliberately tipped his milk over on the table because he didn’t like milk with meals—he wanted Coke. There was no Coke at the farm. No Coke, no TVs, no private bathrooms, no entertainment and Ted felt trapped. Ted, who didn’t own a pair of blue jeans. He lowered his voice to say to Peyton, “We’ll have to leave early. My kids are not farm kids.”

“I don’t think this is going to work with your man, Peyton,” her mother had said later.

“Because of his kids?” she’d stupidly asked.

“No, darling little Babette. Because of his disability. The poor man appears to be blind and deaf. That’s going to present problems.”

So for almost three years they’d fought a lot, made love on days off from the monsters, fought some more, and the weeks—so busy Peyton could barely think—ran together until she’d realized she’d been with him for almost three years, was almost thirty-five, and nothing had improved. In fact, it had been getting worse by the day.

Then she’d found pot in Krissy’s backpack. The bag was sitting on a kitchen chair, the zipper open, the drugs clearly visible. Peyton went ballistic; she confiscated it and called Ted home from work. The fireworks were nuclear. Krissy accused Peyton of searching her personal property, insisted she was holding it for a friend she wouldn’t name. Ted was furious to be called away from his practice for a “minor” problem like that. “Come on, Peyton, like you didn’t come into contact with a little weed when you were a teenager!”

Oh. My. God! Peyton knew her father would have killed her! But Ted wouldn’t even agree to ground Krissy. “You’re going to be sorry,” she had told him. “That girl is on a bad journey, and it’s going to get worse. She’s not even remorseful. She blames me!”

Peyton had lasted about two more months.

No wonder she was determined not to work for a single father again. She knew not all kids were terrible, but she was not up to working her ass off as a PA and taking on parenting duties after work. Scott Grant, devoted family man, was obviously happily married and wouldn’t be imposing in that way.

A couple, holding hands, came cautiously down the stairs from Cooper’s house to the beach. Wedding guests. The woman was a pretty blonde, carrying her heeled slippers, and he was a tall man with dark red hair and kept his arm around her waist. They walked about twenty feet and stopped. He lifted her chin and kissed her deeply.

That was hard to see, Peyton thought. Fresh from her breakup, it wasn’t easy. She wanted to be loved; she was willing to give a lot to a relationship. She had tried so hard.

* * *

On Sunday, before she was completely settled in Thunder Point, Peyton called a friend from Ted’s office—their triage nurse, Amy. She hadn’t talked to her since her abrupt departure three weeks before, and Amy had been her closest work friend.

“I’m taking a position in a very small clinic in a very small town. It will give me time to think about my next job. I made a three month commitment, and during the next three months, I’ll put out some feelers, try to decide where I want to be. It isn’t going to be in Portland, Amy. I don’t want to run into Ted and his new assistant.”

“You should know—they came out. They’re a couple. It’s all huggy-huggy, kissy-touchy. They’re officially dating.”

Peyton sighed. “It’s like they couldn’t wait for me to leave.”

“You were gone an hour,” Amy said, disgust in her voice.

“He’s twenty years older than she is.”

“He needs a babysitter,” Amy said. “In the end he might need a sitter for her. My advice? Don’t look back.”

Peyton texted Ted and told him she had not yet seen the severance check and gave him the address for Scott’s clinic and asked him to send it there. Posthaste. She didn’t need it, but by damn, she was going to push for it. No one had given Ted more than she had. Fortunately, she had saved enough of her income over the past several years to emerge debt free and with a healthy savings account. She could get on with her life.

Alone.

* * *

Monday morning at around ten, Peyton dropped by the clinic. She hadn’t given Scott a starting date, but she had nothing to do to settle into her little space, so she might as well see if he needed her. She had noticed Devon wore scrubs and tennis shoes, perfectly appropriate for clinic personnel. But Scott had been wearing jeans, so she opted for nice jeans and a starched blouse. While it was definitely sandal weather, she wore closed-toed shoes with a heel. She’d soon find out if scrubs were more practical.

“I wasn’t expecting you until next week,” he said.

“I know, but Devon called and said she’d be away and if I could spare the time...”

“I can manage if you have things to do, Peyton,” he said.

She really didn’t want him to know how pathetic her life looked, that she had almost nothing to move into her little duplex. “I’m fine. There’s not much to do to get acclimated, and I wanted to give you at least a few hours today in case you got busy.”

“If you’re sure, we’ll think of it as orientation. It won’t take any time at all before you know where everything is. Over the weekend I made room for you in my office. You can use my desk whenever I’m not using it, but I added a small, portable but very sturdy folding table and desk chair and brought a laptop from home in case—”

“I have my own laptop,” she said. “Do you have wireless so I can get online? Ten years ago I carted around boxes of books but now...”

“I know. We’ve come a long way, haven’t we? I subscribe to a medical link service. I’ll give you the password. Everything from a Physician’s Desk Reference to very classy pictures of rashes and warts.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “See a lot of those, do you?”

“It’s not that there are a lot. I have trouble telling them all apart! There’s a white lab coat in the back if you want to save your blouse from...from the many vagaries of our profession.”

Orientation was comprised of more than learning Scott’s system, where the supplies were kept and figuring out the appointment calendar. It was also meeting the people. In a small-town clinic, she learned, you served the neighborhood. There was Mrs. Rodriquez’s diabetes, Lynn Bishop’s prenatal visits, Bob Flannigan’s arthritis, Crawford Downy Sr.’s high blood pressure and elevated cholesterol, and his wife’s onset of acid reflux. There was Mrs. Bledsoe’s Parkinson’s—beautifully controlled at the moment, Tara Redding’s asthma, Frank Samson’s chronic back spasms, a strained and perhaps torn rotator cuff from one of the fishermen down at the marina, a few referrals and a couple of blood draws. The clinic was busy all day, and whether Scott would admit it or not, Peyton knew he would have had trouble keeping up without her. For the two of them, it wasn’t overwhelming, but there was no downtime. She administered some antibiotic, put in a few stitches, applied an ice pack and caught up on some charting. She thought she was home free until the nine-month-old with a fever she had balanced on her hip threw up on her.

“Feel better?” she asked the infant.

The baby flashed a wide, adorable, toothless smile, causing Scott to laugh so hard, he bent over.

“I keep a couple of spare shirts in my closet,” Scott said, still laughing. “I’ll get you one.”

Peyton finished the day in Scott’s shirt, but it had been such a good day that she didn’t mind a bit. With hardly any training at all, they had worked together exceptionally well. “I guess I’ll either wear the lab coat or add a couple of my own shirts to the closet,” she said.

“Choice of clothing is entirely up to you. Devon likes the scrubs for comfort, and it keeps her costs down. Some days I just throw on scrubs, but those are usually the days I’m scheduled at one of the hospitals. I don’t have many patients to see on rounds, but if I can give them a few hours in their clinic or ER, it helps.”

“They let you have a schedule that gives them just a few hours?”

“It’s all I have,” he said. “Plus, I’m pretty cheap.” And then he grinned.

She was caught on that smile, momentarily mesmerized. There was no veneer, no cover. He was completely accessible, maybe a little vulnerable. On that very first day she understood. He’s not about money or image; he’s all about being a good health care provider. That’s all it took—one day and that engaging smile and she knew, Scott was the real deal. A good man. Good to the bone. He was welcoming. Warm and giving and talented. And that was why the clinic was working. His patients clearly loved and trusted him. They depended on him thoroughly; they dropped in whether ill or well, just to update him on the latest news, and not just about their health.

Realizing this was almost a blow, given where she came from. Ted was the kind of man who could knock you off your feet, reel you in, get you to do anything he asked. Ted had articles written about him; he contributed on television medical news stories. Scott wanted to take care of his people. He was more embracing, anxious to give you something you needed. Ted was a Lamborghini; Scott was a Jeep. Ted was all flash, while Scott was unpretentious and solid. There was no hidden agenda here. And while she might’ve started the day thinking it was a three-month gig to give her a chance to live simply and get her head together, she quickly saw it as a good idea, an opportunity to learn about small-town medicine from a master. And the other shock was she found the Jeep far sexier than the Lamborghini.

Her second day in the clinic was much the same as the first, busy all day, and she already felt at home.

“It might go a little easier on me if you weren’t so damn efficient and personable,” Scott said. “If you were klutzy, lazy and annoying, I wouldn’t mind giving you up in three months.”

She laughed at him and said, “There’s another reason I can’t stay longer,” she said. “It’s not just the money, although you have to admit...”

“I’ll be the first to admit it’s not nearly what you deserve,” he said. “It’s just what the clinic can bear. So, what else is going on?”

“My youngest sister is having her first baby, and I promised to be with her. She’s the sister I’m closest to and she’s in San Francisco.”

“Auntie Peyton,” he said with that warm, loving smile. “Well, if that’s all it is, we can always work out time off. Family comes first.”

Don’t be too nice to me, don’t make me want to be here. I really can’t afford to trust a man again too soon, she thought.

And then, at three in the afternoon of that second day, there was a red flag. It was almost as if it was delivered on request. Gina’s daughter, Ashley, brought Scott’s children to the clinic. “Scott, I checked with everyone, even my mom, to see if anyone could babysit for a couple of hours, and I’m sorry, there’s no one. We’re covered for tomorrow till five, but now I have to go to work at the diner.”

“Don’t worry, Ashley. Not a problem. They can watch their movies or color in the break room for a couple of hours,” Scott said.

“Are you sure? There’s always Cooper or Rawley—I didn’t try them because they have Devon and Spencer’s kids.”

“They probably have their hands full. This is okay.” He bent down to kiss them each on their foreheads.

Ashley handed over a couple of backpacks, one pink and girlie, one camouflage and oh, so manly. “You’re loaded up with books, Kindles with their movies, crayons, special cups, bags of fruit chewies....”

“Thanks, Ash. You’ve been a big help. Ashley, this is Peyton, our new physician’s assistant. Peyton, meet Gina’s daughter, Ashley James.”

Peyton put out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“I heard about you. My mom mentioned meeting you. Welcome. I hope you’ll like it here.”

“I already like it here,” Peyton said.

“I’m off to the diner. My mom has to get out of there on time—the younger kids have lessons and stuff, and Mac is on duty until dinnertime.”

As Ashley headed out the door, Scott introduced the kids. “This is Jenny, and this is Will, four and five years old. Will starts kindergarten in the fall.”

Peyton crouched. “How do you do,” she said, smiling. They were simply beautiful children, Jenny with her long, curling brown hair and Will trying to act so grown up, one strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder. “Where’s Mommy today? Working?”

“Mommy lives in heaven,” Jenny said.

Peyton almost fell flat on her ass. She had to put a hand down to steady herself enough to rise to her full height. She was stricken. She looked at Scott, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

He held up a hand. “Not a problem, Peyton. Let me get the kids settled in the break room, and I’ll explain.”

She actually had to sit down. Her knees wobbled slightly.

He was back in no time. “Well, I don’t know how you made it a whole week in Thunder Point without knowing that, but to be honest, I’m relieved. I guess that means they don’t all talk about me as the lonely widower as often as I thought they did.”

She shook her head, but couldn’t seem to close her mouth. She cleared her throat. “A devoted family man,” she said weakly. “With a mother-in-law?”

“I am devoted, and my wife might be deceased, but my mother-in-law is going to be dancing on my grave,” he said. “I lost Serena immediately following Jenny’s birth. She was on life support for a while. She wouldn’t have liked that, but Serena was an organ donor and...well, I’m glad now. She wasn’t in pain, and I really didn’t want Jenny to grow up associating her birthday with her mother’s death. I was widowed four years ago. I have a nanny. Au pair. Babysitter. Right arm. Gabriella is twenty now and has been with me here in Thunder Point the past year. She’s been managing the house and kids with my assistance and going to school, but her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She’s going to be fine, but Gabriella wanted to be with her and left kind of suddenly. I think she just got scared. Understandable. Usually Devon and I, both single parents, could help each other out when things came up, but I’d shut the clinic before I’d call her on her honeymoon....”

“Devon is no longer a single parent,” Peyton said.

“I doubt that will change anything. Mercy and Austin are as comfortable at my house as they are at home.” He laughed. “Austin has two families as it is—talk about a flexible kid.”

“But what if you’re called to the hospital?” Peyton asked.

“I’m not on call. I had to cancel when Gabriella left.”

“Does this sort of thing happen a lot?” she asked, tilting her head toward the break room. “Kids in the office?”

“Only once in the past year. They’re very well behaved, but I don’t want them here as a habit. For obvious reasons...”

“Sick people, being one?”

“And the sheer distraction, not to mention a million questions.”

There was a sudden loud whoop-whoop-whoop from outside, and Peyton whirled to see Mac in the sheriff’s deputy’s SUV roar down the street with lights and sirens. And right behind him another deputy followed, also lit up. Behind them, the wrecker from the service station was moving pretty fast, lights revolving.

“Wow,” she said.

“That doesn’t look good. I’ve only seen Mac all lit up once since I moved here. I’ve never seen Mac and the other deputy both tear out of town like that.”

Right then his cell phone rang, and Peyton had a sinking feeling. It matched the look on Scott’s face. He pulled out his phone.

“Scott Grant,” he said; then he listened. He nodded to the phone. “Hold on,” he said. He looked at Peyton. “The perfect storm,” he said to her. “Bus accident just off 101 near Bandon. Church camp bus—full of kids. All area medical and rescue has been called.”

She didn’t even have to think about it. “Go.”

“On my way,” he said into the phone. He pocketed it. “The clinic keys and keys to my house are in the top desk drawer. You can close the clinic. Put up a sign—closed for emergency. You can take the kids to my house—plenty of food and toys.”

“I don’t know where you live!”

“Well, everyone else does. Just ask someone.”

“I don’t have safety seats!”

“It’s three blocks, Peyton. We walk from my house to the beach all the time.” Then he dashed into the break room to tell his children goodbye. She heard him say, “When I get home, I want Peyton to tell me you’re the best children in the world.”

“Oh, God,” she whispered to herself. “This isn’t happening to me.”