“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.”

* * *

Peyton would have named Scott the best guy for any job. She liked him so much. On her drive home she tried to remember feeling that way about Ted—liking him. What was clear in her memory—she had been dazzled by him. The way he practiced, the success he had with his patients, it was simply phenomenal. It was almost like the crush she’d had on a charismatic chemistry professor in college—the coeds followed him like puppies, he was so commanding and sexy. And Ted was so goddamn handsome it was surprising he didn’t cause heart attacks. When he’d looked at her, she began to melt right down to her lady parts! It had been very hard for her to maintain her professionalism in his presence during those first, early days of working in his office. She believed she had, but it had been a challenge. He seemed to walk about six inches off the floor. Ted hadn’t made her warm, he’d made her sizzle!

Ironically, sex hadn’t been a big deal with them. Ted wasn’t as sexually driven as she was, not by a stretch. He’d been kind and accommodating, and she’d had no complaints. Their sex life had been...adequate. But because Ted was so masterful in every other way, she’d assumed it was her. Lacking in some way.

Ted had caused her to feel oddly off-balance, though it was sometimes very subtle. Being off-balance had her struggling to make sure everything was all right with him, with her, with them. She’d filled his periods of silence with questions, ignored his small tantrums, recognized the need to reinforce his confidence in her. And he’d rewarded her with material things. Throw three kids and a demanding ex-wife into the mix, and the result was Peyton’s loss of confidence and erosion of her self-esteem, but a collection of a few nice baubles.

She had been extremely attracted to Ted, but she didn’t think she liked him much. And she had been stunned to come to the conclusion he didn’t like her that much. At some point, she’d realized Ted liked himself better than anyone else. She hadn’t quite trusted him. “I think we should make a clean break, Peyton. You haven’t loved me for a long time.”

Oh, God, she thought. Ted had been right. She’d felt her love for him seeping away like a slow leak for so long. She’d kept trying to stick her finger in the dam, to build a partnership between them, to save the kids before it was too late, but it kept leaking, leaking, leaking until there was almost nothing left. They hadn’t had sex for months before she left. They’d barely had a cordial conversation. He was right—she’d frozen him out, and Ted needed to be adored, admired, loved.

No wonder. No wonder all of it.

In Scott’s small clinic she felt competent. Trusted. In balance. She didn’t sense a hidden agenda and wasn’t afraid of an emotional collapse. This was a complete accident—this town, this job—but as it turned out, this was going to be a good place to get leveled out and remember exactly who she was and what she wanted from life.

Still, she was going home to her little duplex after her lovely dinner with Scott and planned to do some damage to a gallon of Ben & Jerry’s.

* * *

Carrie’s deli wasn’t open on Sundays. Sometimes she did a little cooking at home, if the spirit moved her, but she usually tried to observe a day of rest. On this particular Sunday, she decided to take her little beach-mobile across the beach to Cooper’s to get their food order for the week. She had called ahead, and Rawley was working because the baby was still new and Cooper was spending less time at the bar.

The place was pretty crowded—typical of a sunny Sunday afternoon in the summer. The tables on the deck were full, there were folks sitting on low beach chairs on the sand, kayakers and paddleboards on the water. Carrie said hello to those she knew and went into the bar. Landon was sweeping up sand and dirt, which made Rawley the only adult present and therefore standing behind the bar.