The Promise (Thunder Point #5)(56)

“I can keep the clinic open if Dr. Stewart will work with me,” Peyton said. “He can sign off on any procedures that come up while you’re away, but we’ll stall most of the appointments until you’re back in town.”

A few days before the scheduled departure to Washington, Peyton had dinner with Scott and the kids. He was on call and his phone rang. There was a family with a bad flu in the ER, and the youngest was two years old. They were all sick, dehydrated and feverish.

“I’ll text Gabriella to come upstairs, and then I’ll take off,” he said.

“Don’t bother her,” Peyton said. “I know the bedtime drill. I’ll get the kids settled. Gabby doesn’t have much time with her beloved Charles before she has to leave Thunder Point.”

“Are you sure? I know how you feel about being taken advantage of in off hours.”

“I’m good,” she said. “Just go. Maybe you won’t be too long.”

* * *

There was one thing about being the ER doctor on call, it was very rare that Scott felt his time had been wasted. This night there was much more to the story than a family with the flu. It was carbon monoxide poisoning from a dysfunctional water heater. A mom, dad, four-year-old and two-year-old had come to the ER The kids had low-grade fevers while mom and dad were just sick as dogs. Scott had to decide what the devil it could be if he ruled out fever. Then he asked if they were the sole inhabitants of the house and learned that Grandma and Grandpa lived there, as well. The fire department was dispatched, two more patients were admitted, the water heater was turned off and the house aired out.

All this took quite a while.

Scott texted Peyton as he was leaving the hospital, but she didn’t respond. He wondered if she had fallen asleep in the fort again. That thought made him smile.

If Peyton knew how much he fantasized about her joining their family, about a life with her, he feared she’d run screaming into the night. He had no idea how to pursue her, but he was moving as cautiously as he could. He knew a little about what she’d been through with Ted and gathered it had more to do with being stuck with his bratty kids than with him. Scott couldn’t guarantee his kids would always behave; he often wondered if he didn’t just find them way more precious and sweet than other people might. One thing for sure—they were his responsibility. Not hers.

And if his kids weren’t enough of a wild card, how about the grandmothers? Holy Jesus, they made him want to run away! They were each high maintenance in their own way—his mother could be domineering and controlling, Serena’s mother could be wheedling and manipulative. When they weren’t bickering, they were forming an alliance, with him as the common enemy. While he and Serena lived in Vancouver, the grandmothers, both widows, competed for time. “She got Thanksgiving, so I get Christmas.” Even though they invited each other to all family events. They disagreed on how to take care of the children, fought over what discipline was appropriate and what was not and who was the better cook or more nurturing grandma or whatever. They’d been like that even when Serena was alive. When Will was born, Serena’s mother took up residence in her daughter’s house, staking a claim as the mother’s mother. Scott’s mother had snidely asked, “If I drive past the house slowly, will you please hold the baby up in the window so I can see him?”

When Serena passed away, it was even worse. They were both determined to take care of him. It had been torture.

Not only was he reluctant to tell Peyton how much he cared for her, he had no real experience in this. He’d grown up with Serena; they’d been together since they were kids. She’d passed away when she was only thirty-three. He remembered moments of passion, of sexual hunger, but more common in a relationship over a decade old, there were feelings of security, enduring love, safety, partnership. As a medical student and resident, he could not have managed without a wife like Serena, so supportive and patient. God, the number of times he’d worked sixteen-hour days and left her abandoned, barely talking to her, too tired to have a meal with her unless she came to the hospital, too exhausted for sex, broke and struggling. And yet she’d held so strong, knowing they were headed for a better day. He had adored her. He thanked God for her every day.

That was the love of his youth, a love they created over time, through hardships and triumphs. It was a love they’d grown into since he was a boy and she was a girl.

This thing with Peyton was somehow different. Now he was a man who had endured the rigors of loss, a man with a family. He looked at this new love differently. This was a woman, a love he might never have found. The love of his youth, the love that grew between a boy and girl, felt sweet and tempting and hopeful. What he was feeling for Peyton felt explosive. Powerful, complex and consuming.

He really didn’t want to screw it up.

Scott wasn’t sure what he should be doing with this romance. He hadn’t truly wooed a woman since he’d convinced Serena to marry him—and that hadn’t been difficult. He was going to have to think very hard, strategize with great cunning, to capture Peyton. She wasn’t a young innocent who had fairy-tale ideas about relationships; she was a grown woman who had been through her own heartaches and disappointments.

But when he walked into his house, into his bedroom, the woman he found didn’t seem to be the same one he was worried about convincing. She was on his bed, stocking feet, yoga pants and T-shirt, one of his kids tucked under each arm, all of them asleep.