The Promise (Thunder Point #5)(52)

“Oh, I hope it turns out to be a lousy offer! Not that I don’t wish you the best, but we’d love to keep you here. You fit in, you know?”

“This is a nice place to fit in to,” she agreed.

Cooper lifted his empty plate and said, “I’m getting seconds. Want anything, babe?”

“Deviled eggs!” Sarah said.

When he was out of earshot, Peyton said, “You used to fly for the Coast Guard. What made you decide to give it all up for this little town?”

“Besides this little town?” she returned with a laugh. Sarah nodded toward Cooper. “Look at him. I held him off as long as I could, but Cooper is the best man in the world. He loves my little brother as much as I do. He’d go anywhere for me, even if it meant leaving what he loves. And besides, he’s right about the tool belt. Don’t tell him I said that—he’s a little arrogant.”

The baby started to stir, and sure enough, Ham was upright, watching. “My turn,” Peyton said, putting her empty plate on the sand and scooping up the baby. She jiggled the fussiness out of her, and little Summer snuggled in, quieting at once, mollified. Ham sat again, at peace.

“But would you have stayed here? If not for Cooper?”

“I wanted to stay at least another year. That was mostly for Landon, so he could finish high school without moving for his senior year, but the thought of leaving really bothered me. I had made friends. I had a wonderful man in my life. The Coast Guard definitely pushed my decision, but I’m completely happy with it. Everyone is family.”

“I grew up in a small town,” Peyton said. “Sometimes too much family is too much.”

Sarah laughed. “That’s true anywhere, I think. This town is no exception. People get very nosy. That takes getting used to. But if you’re ever in trouble, in need of help, this is a good place to be.”

“I remember that, as well,” Peyton said. Indeed, so often it seemed like too much family. But then when the sheep needed to be sheared, the potatoes and fruit harvested, butchering to be done, not only did the Lacoumette family gather en masse, there were folks from neighboring farms, townsfolk the Lacoumette family had aided, present to lend a hand. They helped on each other’s farms, put out fires, gave shelter to friends in need, congregated to build and assembled to party.

The baby squirmed a little. “Is she hungry yet?” Peyton asked.

“Well, she’s hungry most of the time, but she had a bottle a couple of hours ago.”

Peyton gazed at the baby. She had held every single niece and nephew and a multitude of other infants. They always felt secure in her arms; she had always felt confident holding them. She’d started holding babies when she was a baby herself—her younger brother and sister, George and Ginny, twins, had come along when she was two. She had never longed for one of her own until the past few years. She was over thirty before it occurred to her that a child of her own might feel slightly different, somewhat more precious. And now she supposed she’d never have one. She had known better than to add one more to Ted’s tumultuous horde. And not only did Scott have his children already, childbirth might have cost him his wife.

When Cooper returned, she passed over the baby and went to sit with Scott and his children.

“I thought you were avoiding me,” he said, putting his arm around her.

“Not at all. I was visiting people.”

“Having a good time?”

“How could anyone not have a good time?”

Before long, Gabby and Charles said their goodbyes and ambled across the beach, headed for home. Soon after they left, Spencer was at their table. “I’ve got a dilemma,” he said to Scott. “I’ve got a few football players who are uninsured, and their families find the cost of a sports physical pretty steep. There might be as many as five or six, a couple of whom might not go out for the team because of the requirements. They can get their school physicals at a free clinic, but, as you know, we need something a little more thorough than just a student physical, and we need it done before practice starts.”

“No problem, Spence. Send ’em by the clinic.”

“I don’t know if everything will be covered by state aid, but before these boys play for me, I have to be sure their health is sound. I have a few issues with the team because of the income of some of the families in the area.”

“Issues like what?” Peyton asked.

“Well, some of them won’t get enough balance in their diet during the season. I’ve gotten in the habit of bringing some high-octane fiber and heavy duty vitamins as well as a lot of beef jerky that I get wholesale. They not only have to have the stamina for football, they have to build muscle if they’re going to go up against those inland farm boys. Some of ’em are already big and muscled from working with their families on the fishing boats and eating a ton of solid fish. These boys get a lot of pasta—white pasta. The carbs keep ’em going, but they need muscle and brain food. I have a protein drink I give them during training. You’d be amazed how big and healthy I can get these kids if I concentrate.” Then he smiled with satisfaction.

“And does the school pay for that?” Peyton asked, though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

“Nah. But teachers have been known to bring supplies to schools for years. This is just as important as pencils, believe me. Some of our families live close to the poverty line. Like the Russell boys, before Al took over as their foster father. You know what I’m talking about. And these guys need things like sports and academics for scholarships or they won’t get to go to college. Everything we do now changes the face of this town for the future.”