“I have no desire to tame her, sir. I admire her.”

“Just as well, because you wouldn’t likely win that one.”

“How did you meet your wife, sir?” Scott asked.

“Ah, her father forced her on me. I wanted to send to the old country for a woman—I wanted a good Basque wife! Not that skinny thing.”

“But Mrs. Lacoumette is Basque,” Scott said.

“I said good Basque! That skinny American thing wasn’t what I had in mind at all.” Then he grinned and said, “But she’s one helluva woman, eh?”

“Yes,” Scott said, laughing. “You don’t say those things to her, do you?”

“What? I’m poor! I’m not stupid!”

“Thank you, sir,” he said, shaking his hand. “I’m going to go find Peyton.”

“I’ll drive you. I want to get you there before you lose your nerve. Get in.”

Scott got in the passenger side, and Paco tore out of the field and down a dirt road that cut across a meadow, went through the orchard and bounced along beside a corral. There were no seat belts. Scott hung on for dear life. “I know you’re poor as a church mouse, but did you ever think about a new truck?”

“Why? This one runs fine!”

“How’s your spine holding up?”

“Strong as an ox!” Paco pulled up to the house. “Go find her. If she says yes, we’ll open a bottle of sack!”

* * *

Scott took a deep breath before climbing up the ladder that led to the loft. When he was all the way to the top, he saw her. She was lying on a hay bale, one leg dangling off and the other bent at the knee and propped up. She was twirling a piece of hay in one hand, looking at it distractedly.

“Peyton.”

She jumped at the sound of her name and fell off the bale, rolled over and sat up, hair and straw in her face. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you. To apologize. I made some very dumb assumptions about you that weren’t just all wrong, they were offensive. Can you forgive me?” He climbed up into the loft and took a step closer.

“This is a sacred place, Dr. Grant. Any lies you tell will send you straight to hell.”

“I’m not going to lie. I’m really sorry. And embarrassed. I don’t know why I acted like I did. I’m not that guy, I’m really not. I don’t give a shit what Ted drives, and I know you aren’t the kind of girl who’s fooled by that stuff. I think I was afraid Ted would find a way to get you back.”

She considered him for a moment. “If you’d been honest with me, we could’ve talked about it.”

“I know that now. I won’t make that mistake again. But, Peyton, you’re different on the outside than you are on the inside.”

“Is that so?” she asked indignantly.

“It is so. You like nice things, and you look so...so sophisticated. Even in jeans,” he said, his eyes running over her. “Especially in jeans.”

“Excuse me, but how is that misleading?”

“Well, it shouldn’t be,” Scott said. “But I was afraid you were attracted to Ted’s money.”

“I don’t think Ted actually has money,” she said. “I think he has things—and they cost a lot. In fact, it costs Ted a lot to live.”

“Then there was your car....”

“Pah,” she said, sounding so much like her father. “It’s a car, Scott! And I’m not all that happy with it, anyway!”

“You’re not?”

“Buyer’s remorse,” she said with a shrug. “I missed the money the second I let it go. Now I’m going to be driving it till I’m ninety, so I’m going to have to make peace with it.”

“All that, and then you answered his call for help,” Scott said. He sat down on the floor, circling his knees with his arms. “I was intimidated by everything—the car, the ex-boyfriend, the job offer in Seattle. I didn’t think any woman in her right mind would choose me over all that.”

“Well...I haven’t. Yet. And I didn’t answer Ted’s call for help, I answered his daughter’s. I told you that. I thought she was suicidal.”

“Holy Jesus,” he said.

“She’s getting help now. If you hadn’t been a complete ass, I would have explained all that. It wasn’t hard for me to ignore Ted’s pleas for help, but I couldn’t walk away from a young girl in trouble.”

“I’m sorry. I have no excuse. But there’s been research out of Stanford that being in love actually causes brain damage.”

“Does that mean recovery requires you stop being in love?”

“The opposite,” he said. “It requires you make a promise. A bond. I love you, Peyton. I don’t want to live without you. I don’t think Jenny and Will want to live without you, either. I want you to marry me. No matter what you say, I think I’m going to love you forever.”

“Well,” she said, considering. “There are terms.”

“Name ’em.”

“Well, for starters, you’re going to have to learn to communicate. If you’d asked questions or opened a dialogue, you might not have to do so much apologizing.”

“I agree to that. Absolutely.”

“Next, after we’re married, I want to be an associate in the clinic. We can make it strong if we’re partners. As long as we have enough, the income doesn’t matter as much as the work we can do.”

“I want that, too. And I agree.”

“And I want another child.”

His mouth fell open.

She put a hand up. “I know you might be scared, given what happened to Serena. But that won’t happen to me. And I think when people love each other and make a bond, it’s good for them to make a child if they can. That might be very old-world thinking, but I promise not to surprise you with eight of them. I just... I really want to feel our baby move inside me. I want to watch it grow.”

He crawled over to her and pulled her into his arms. “I’m not afraid. I’d like that.”

“And finally, you have to promise to be fearless with me, with everything that concerns me. You have to suck it up and stare our problems in the eye. There will be problems. I’ll usually be right, of course....”

He grinned. “Your father mentioned that might be the case.”

“He did? That old bull—he’s the one who has to always be right!”

“Really? He said if I took you off his hands, we’d open a bottle of sack to celebrate.”

“That’s his special stock, sent to him years ago by a relative in the Balearic Islands in Spain. He must be rooting for you.”

“He offered me a dowry. Of course, it was only you, but—”

She slugged him. “Only me?”

“God, you hit hard! I was about to say, but you’re all I want.”

“Better.”

“I thought you were a poor farm kid.”

“So did I,” she said with a laugh. “Farmers are very careful—one bad year can be a disaster, two bad years can be the end. They’re superstitious—they don’t brag about their success. You know what Papa said when he saw my fancy car? He said, can you live in it? Will it make baby cars? Is there a point to it?”