The Promise (Thunder Point #5)(29)

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m a good listener.”

“What’s your excuse?” she asked pointedly. “Your wife’s been gone awhile now.”

“Well, my lunch counter shrink, Gina, said that even though I might want to move on, it was obvious I wasn’t ready.”

“Oh?”

“I took Gina out a couple of times before she and Mac were engaged. According to her, I talked about my deceased wife the whole time. Through two dinners.”

“Oh,” she said. “Yeah, I suppose a little bit of that goes a long way if you’re trying to date someone.”

“So I’m told...”

“Well, you’ve hardly said a word to me. If fact, you were so quiet about her that I thought you were married, not widowed.”

“I didn’t intend that, either,” he said.

“Well, knock yourself out. Tell me all about her. You’re not going to damage our relationship.”

He thought about it and realized the urge to talk about Serena was not as strong. Not that he didn’t think about her. He did. He just didn’t feel a burning need to tell Peyton all the details. But he didn’t want to seem rude. “We were together a long time,” he said. “We started dating in high school. We were each other’s first loves. She was with me all through college and med school and residency. We’d waited a long time to start a family, both of us working. She was a CPA who worked with a big firm. We planned that she would one day manage my practice. So, finally we had Will, and it was so effortless, we decided to do it again right away. She died right after Jenny’s birth. An autopsy revealed SAH.”

“Subarachnoid hemorrhage.”

“Rare, but not unheard of. It must have been an aneurysm lying in wait, and no one knew.”

“I’m so very sorry, Scott,” Peyton said.

“Thank you. I think I’ve gotten my life together pretty well since then. A couple of years ago I did a study of areas in the Pacific Northwest that were underserved, visited about twenty small towns, two little kids along for the ride. Serena and I loved California—I studied at Stanford. We never talked about small towns, but here I was a single father and I had to decide where to raise my kids because I couldn’t possibly know if I’d ever again meet a woman I was that compatible with. We could finish each other’s sentences. But Thunder Point, with no doctor’s office or clinic, reminded me of a small Astoria, a pretty town, a place where I could work and keep tabs on two kids. I think it was a good choice.” Then he smiled and added, “But it’s not going to make me rich.”

She tilted her head. “How fond are you of riches?”

“Not that much. I’m fond of having enough. Do you know if you go to any of the local farmer’s markets around here you’re going to get the most amazing fruits and vegetables? At harvest it’s mind-blowing.” Then he laughed at himself. “Listen to me brag about that to a farmer’s daughter! And if you get friendly with some of the fishermen and crabbers, they’ll hold back some catch after they’ve been to fisheries and markets along the coast. I stitched up a fisherman’s hand not too long ago, and I’m still getting fish.” He grinned. “Devon had to put her head between her knees while I put in the stitches.”

“She’s a fainter?” Peyton asked with a smile.

“She didn’t go down, but she’s not the right person to hold a bloody hand for you while you sew.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“So, have you been to Astoria?”

“I have, and I love it there. I think you’re right—Thunder Point is like a little Astoria. Pretty. Not as rich, though.”

“Far from rich. These people are simple, hardworking folks. There’s some wealth around, but it doesn’t stand out. I think Cliff from Cliffhanger’s is pretty well fixed, and there might be a few others, but mostly middle class or struggling to get to middle class.”

“Will your kids get everything they need here?” Peyton asked.

“I believe they will. Education is a priority in this town. Lots of Thunder Point kids get scholarships and not just athletic scholarships. The teachers are dedicated and talented. It’s friendly. Crime is almost nonexistent. And now there’s good medical care.”

“And what about a second wife for the town doctor?” she asked with a lift of one brow.

“Well, I’ll be honest—I’d like that. I liked being half of a couple. But that looks pretty doubtful. There aren’t many single women hanging around, and I’m kept a little too busy for the hunt. But that’s all right, I guess. I like my life and I’m needed here. I think from the first day I chose pre-med, I wanted to be needed. I wanted to have the thing that helped.”

“Hmm. Maybe you wanted to be admired,” she suggested.

“Maybe. What did the last doctor you worked for want? What drove him?”

She didn’t even have to think about it. “To be the best. Best in the world. Universe. He created an image he had to uphold. He talked about it a lot—his image. He wanted to be the difference between life and death.”

“Well, I don’t want that. I’d prefer my patients not be near death. I just want to put in some good stitches, prescribe the right medicine, give sound advice. If someone wants to admire me for that, I’ll take it. I’m pretty uncomplicated. I’m a simple guy. That’s probably why I’m here. I’m hoping I’m the right guy for the job.”