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.

He couldn’t remember ever loving anyone as much as he loved her. It felt brand-new.

He quietly changed into his pajama bottoms and slid into bed with them.

“Um...oh,” she said, stirring. “You’re here. I should go—”

“Shh,” he said. “Go back to sleep.” He raised up on an elbow, leaned toward her and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Wouldn’t they go to bed?”

“They were fine. We found a bed big enough for all of us.”

He smiled. “Happens that way a lot around here.”

“I figured.” Then, in what almost seemed a choreographed movement, she rolled over, spooning Jenny while Will turned into Scott’s arm, resting his little head on his father’s shoulder.

She took my children under her wing and rocked them safely to sleep.

For him, there was no turning back.

* * *

Peyton was not surprised by the way the town responded to Gabriella’s departure. Even though, as a college student, her closest friendships were among the coeds and young couples she and her boyfriend socialized with, she was also well acquainted with many in town. The Saturday Scott was helping her load the small trailer to take her and all her belongings back to Vancouver turned into a party. Peyton went over to Scott’s house with a big plate of cookies and found a number of her friends already there with food, music, drinks and good wishes. Someone made a big sign that was hung on the trailer that said, Happy Trails, Gabriella. Devon, Spencer and the kids were there; Cooper, Sarah, the baby—and Ham—came. Al and Ray Anne were there with two of the three boys, Eric Gentry was working at his gas station, but his significant other, Laine, arrived with a platter of submarine sandwiches. Mac and Gina stopped by; Ashley and Eve, the new part-time babysitters, came by to give hugs and wish her well. Even though some of her young friends from the community college she had attended threw her a farewell party the night before, some of them dropped by for a final goodbye. There was a constant flow of people throughout the afternoon.

This was the kind of place that honored good people, even if they were just passing through. Gabriella had been Scott’s nanny for the past year, and her reputation was solid—she would be missed. This filled Peyton with nostalgia. Even though she’d not been able to wait to take her job abroad after college, couldn’t get on the plane fast enough, her entire huge extended family had shown up at the farm for a spectacular send-off. They’d been armed with messages to Basque family members they’d barely heard about in forty years...and they’d been so proud of her.

Scott and the kids and Gabriella and Charles left for Vancouver on Sunday in two cars. Peyton and Dr. Stewart would cover Scott’s duties until Wednesday.

But early Monday evening there was a knock at her door, and Peyton opened it to find Scott standing there holding a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. He was smiling, and his eyes had grown dark and smoky. She had talked to him by cell phone several times Sunday and Monday and had had no idea he was coming home so quickly. There were grandmothers to visit in Vancouver!

“Scott?”

“I left the kids with their grandmothers,” he said, smiling. “Got a corkscrew?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming right home? I would’ve showered and changed! Planned dinner or something.”

“First, a glass of wine,” he said, coming inside and closing the door. “Then a shower for both of us. Then maybe we’ll take our time getting dressed. And if you show the proper amount of gratitude, I’ll take you to Cliff’s for crab cakes and fries.”