can bear. So, what else is going on?”
“My youngest sister is having her first baby, and I promised to be with her. She’s the sister I’m closest to and she’s in San Francisco.”
“Auntie Peyton,” he said with that warm, loving smile. “Well, if that’s all it is, we can always work out time off. Family comes first.”
Don’t be too nice to me, don’t make me want to be here. I really can’t afford to trust a man again too soon, she thought.
And then, at three in the afternoon of that second day, there was a red flag. It was almost as if it was delivered on request. Gina’s daughter, Ashley, brought Scott’s children to the clinic. “Scott, I checked with everyone, even my mom, to see if anyone could babysit for a couple of hours, and I’m sorry, there’s no one. We’re covered for tomorrow till five, but now I have to go to work at the diner.”
“Don’t worry, Ashley. Not a problem. They can watch their movies or color in the break room for a couple of hours,” Scott said.
“Are you sure? There’s always Cooper or Rawley—I didn’t try them because they have Devon and Spencer’s kids.”
“They probably have their hands full. This is okay.” He bent down to kiss them each on their foreheads.
Ashley handed over a couple of backpacks, one pink and girlie, one camouflage and oh, so manly. “You’re loaded up with books, Kindles with their movies, crayons, special cups, bags of fruit chewies....”
“Thanks, Ash. You’ve been a big help. Ashley, this is Peyton, our new physician’s assistant. Peyton, meet Gina’s daughter, Ashley James.”
Peyton put out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“I heard about you. My mom mentioned meeting you. Welcome. I hope you’ll like it here.”
“I already like it here,” Peyton said.
“I’m off to the diner. My mom has to get out of there on time—the younger kids have lessons and stuff, and Mac is on duty until dinnertime.”
As Ashley headed out the door, Scott introduced the kids. “This is Jenny, and this is Will, four and five years old. Will starts kindergarten in the fall.”
Peyton crouched. “How do you do,” she said, smiling. They were simply beautiful children, Jenny with her long, curling brown hair and Will trying to act so grown up, one strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder. “Where’s Mommy today? Working?”
“Mommy lives in heaven,” Jenny said.
Peyton almost fell flat on her ass. She had to put a hand down to steady herself enough to rise to her full height. She was stricken. She looked at Scott, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly.
He held up a hand. “Not a problem, Peyton. Let me get the kids settled in the break room, and I’ll explain.”
She actually had to sit down. Her knees wobbled slightly.
He was back in no time. “Well, I don’t know how you made it a whole week in Thunder Point without knowing that, but to be honest, I’m relieved. I guess that means they don’t all talk about me as the lonely widower as often as I thought they did.”
She shook her head, but couldn’t seem to close her mouth. She cleared her throat. “A devoted family man,” she said weakly. “With a mother-in-law?”
“I am devoted, and my wife might be deceased, but my mother-in-law is going to be dancing on my grave,” he said. “I lost Serena immediately following Jenny’s birth. She was on life support for a while. She wouldn’t have liked that, but Serena was an organ donor and...well, I’m glad now. She wasn’t in pain, and I really didn’t want Jenny to grow up associating her birthday with her mother’s death. I was widowed four years ago. I have a nanny. Au pair. Babysitter. Right arm. Gabriella is twenty now and has been with me here in Thunder Point the past year. She’s been managing the house and kids with my assistance and going to school, but her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She’s going to be fine, but Gabriella wanted to be with her and left kind of suddenly. I think she just got scared. Understandable. Usually Devon and I, both single parents, could help each other out when things came up, but I’d shut the clinic before I’d call her on her honeymoon....”
“Devon is no longer a single parent,” Peyton said.
“I doubt that will change anything. Mercy and Austin are as comfortable at my house as they are at home.” He laughed. “Austin has two families as it is—talk about a flexible kid.”
“But what if you’re called to the hospital?” Peyton asked.
“I’m not on call. I had to cancel when Gabriella left.”
“Does this sort of thing happen a lot?” she asked, tilting her head toward the break room. “Kids in the office?”
“Only once in the past year. They’re very well behaved, but I don’t want them here as a habit. For obvious reasons...”
“Sick people, being one?”
“And the sheer distraction, not to mention a million questions.”
There was a sudden loud whoop-whoop-whoop from outside, and Peyton whirled to see Mac in the sheriff’s deputy’s SUV roar down the street with lights and sirens. And right behind him another deputy followed, also lit up. Behind them, the wrecker from the service station was moving pretty fast, lights revolving.
“Wow,” she said.
“That doesn’t look good. I’ve only seen Mac all lit up once since I moved here. I’ve never seen Mac and the other deputy both tear out of town like that.”
Right then his cell phone rang, and Peyton had a sinking feeling. It matched the look on Scott’s face. He pulled out his phone.
“Scott Grant,” he said; then he listened. He nodded to the phone. “Hold on,” he said. He looked at Peyton. “The perfect storm,” he said to her. “Bus accident just off 101 near Bandon. Church camp bus—full of kids. All area medical and rescue has been called.”
She didn’t even have to think about it. “Go.”
“On my way,” he said into the phone. He pocketed it. “The clinic keys and keys to my house are in the top desk drawer. You can close the clinic. Put up a sign—closed for emergency. You can take the kids to my house—plenty of food and toys.”
“I don’t know where you live!”
“Well, everyone else does. Just ask someone.”
“I don’t have safety seats!”
“It’s three blocks, Peyton. We walk from my house to the beach all the time.” Then he dashed into the break room to tell his children goodbye. She heard him say, “When I get home, I want Peyton to tell me you’re the best children in the world.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered to herself. “This isn’t happening to me.”
