“And I suppose you’ll have quite a lot of discourse with Dr. Ramsdale while you’re there, helping his daughter.”

“I don’t give a crap about Ted, though I pity him! But at this moment I’m beginning to feel pretty sorry for you, too.”

“I’m sorry, Peyton,” he said. She could picture him rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m reacting. I guess I’m disappointed.”

“Apology accepted,” she said, but it really stung.

“Maybe while you’re that far north you should take the time to check out that surgeon in Seattle.”

“What? What?” she asked twice.

“Peyton, I love you. But we both know I don’t have nearly as much to offer you as that Seattle surgeon does. Or as Ted does, for that matter.”

Peyton was stunned. God, he’s jealous. Of Ted. How ridiculous! But ridiculous or not, it was plain as paint—Scott was licking his wounds and had been since the day Ted had descended on them, driving his fancy car, calling the clinic a dump and not good enough for Peyton, acting like the hotshot he thought he was.

Peyton thought that, of all the people she knew, Scott would know what a real pauper was.

She was quiet. She could try to soothe him, reassure him that Ted had nothing she wanted, that all his glitter meant nothing to her. She could go to him, be there in two or three hours, have a heart-to-heart with him about what things really mattered to her, and ask him to try to understand.

Or not.

“All right, Scott, everyone’s entitled to be petty sometimes, so I’m going to just let that go. What I’m going to do is drive to Portland and see if I can help Ted’s daughter. I might spend the night with my parents since I’m that close, and then I’m going to come back to Thunder Point where I happen to live at the moment. We’re going to have a serious talk and get this issue completely resolved. When this crisis is behind me, we’re going to talk our crisis to death. I’d do that right now, but I’m tired, I have hours of driving ahead, I have a lot of other things to worry about and, frankly, you really pissed me off. But when our problem has been aired, we’ll decide where we go from there.”

“That sounds reasonable,” he said.

“Tell me one thing, Scott,” she said. “Are you sure you still love me?”

He sighed into the phone. “I don’t think anything will ever change that.”

“Then after we finally get this sorted out, you’re going to feel really stupid.”

“It won’t be the first time,” he said.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” she said, clicking off.

She sat for a moment. She was really too tired to allow her emotions to overwhelm her, but he was breaking her heart. Did he have so little faith in her? Did he not know her at all? Couldn’t he look beyond the nice car or the ex-boyfriend with the even nicer car?

But the tears came, anyway. It just hurt so much that he was unsure of her.

She called the farm. “Mama? Hi. I’m on my way to Portland—I’m needed there. I’ve been driving, and I’m wondering—can I sneak into the house very late tonight and grab a few hours of sleep before going on to Portland? It will be midnight or so. I hope the dogs don’t start barking, but I’ll be as quiet as I can.”

“Of course, my Babette. Don’t worry about the dogs, they bark at the moon. Just come. What needs you in Portland?”

“One of Ted’s kids is in trouble and called me for help. I’ll tell you about it at breakfast. Thank you, Mama. I’m sure I’ll be very tired by the time I get there.”

“Is there nowhere else for you to stop, darling?”

Like Thunder Point? Peyton thought. “No, Mama. I’m coming straight home.”

Seventeen

When Peyton walked upstairs at the farmhouse, her mother met her in the hall. Corinne was wearing Paco’s robe over her pajamas. She turned on the hall light and, frowning, looked Peyton up and down. “You’re all right?” she asked.

“Just tired.”

“Sleep, then. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Peyton hadn’t even taken her suitcase out of the car. She stripped off her jeans and crawled into the bed that had been hers as a girl. It seemed that she’d closed her eyes for mere seconds when she was roused by the smell of coffee. She dragged herself out of bed, pulled on yesterday’s clothes, ran her fingers through her hair and went down to the kitchen. Paco looked up and gave her a slight frown of concern. “Trouble?” he asked.

She knew he wouldn’t want to talk about the details. Not at this time of the morning. He was all about getting out of the house. If she was around later when his work was done, they might sit on the porch and talk a little, but for now he would leave the details for Corinne to collect. “Nothing I can’t handle, Papa.”

Her mother put a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of strong coffee in front of her. Her father ate cereal, eggs, sausage. Around ten in the morning he would stop by the house to fill-up on toast and coffee, maybe some beans. And at one, lunch. At six, dinner. It took a lot of fuel to keep a farmer going.

Paco was done eating inside of ten minutes. He rose, rubbed his hands over his stomach and leaned down to give Peyton a kiss on the head. “You are the strong one,” he said. Peyton knew he said some variation on that to every one of his children.

Corrine rinsed the dishes and brought her coffee to the table, sitting across from Peyton, silent and waiting. Peyton told the story of Krissy, and when she was done, all Corrine said was, “Fifteen. Holy Mother.”

“Totally,” Peyton said. “If that was your daughter, what would you do?”

She gave a helpless shrug. “We’ve had a slip or two in our vast family, not at fifteen that I can think of. My mother used to say, ‘The first baby can come anytime, but after that they all take nine months.’ Peyton, I’m surprised you’ll go to help that fancy doctor. He hasn’t often appreciated you.”

“I’m not going for him. In fact, leaving it in his hands will be a challenge. He clearly expects me to handle it for him, no matter how long it takes or how much it costs me.”

“I hope you’ve made up your mind how much you can take.”

“I hope so, too.”

Of course, her mother wanted to know all about Adele and the baby, wanted to hear about all of Lucas’s family. They’d sent pictures almost daily to the entire Lacoumette family, but Corinne was hungry for gossip and details. They had a second cup of coffee.

“Mama, when did you know you loved Papa?”

“When my father told me I did,” she said with a smile.

“Really?”

“I loved him before I knew him, like most brides. Then the truth came out. I found out what he was really like.”

“Does he ever give you trouble?”

Corinne laughed. “Every day of my life. Peyton, please, tell me we’re not talking about Ted.”

She shook her head. “That was over a long time ago. Before I moved out. So sad. It makes me a little afraid that I’ll think I’m in love again, and then it will slip away from me. That I’ll see I was kidding myself. Again.”

Corinne shook her head. “Peyton, it’s not like you to play games with yourself. You, of all my children, have always known what you feel, what you want.”