The Promise

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The Promise Page 16

by Robyn Carr


  But she was nervous about these feelings, and for good reason. She’d been in a very similar position before, thinking herself to be in love with the doctor she’d worked with. She’d thought he was everything she’d ever wanted, then she came awake one day and realized she’d been kidding herself. Ted hadn’t been the man she thought he was at all.

  What could Scott need her for? Love, for one thing—that was obvious. He’d love her every day if she didn’t hold him off a little. Did he need a dirt-cheap PA to help him get his clinic functional and successful? He did need a babysitter—desperately! Gabriella would be leaving soon. It didn’t help that she wanted to be needed for these things. But what if it wasn’t as good as it seemed? What if it fell apart? It would break her heart to pieces because her instincts said she’d found the man she’d been waiting for all her life.

  “You’re thinking too hard,” a voice said, jolting her out of her contemplation. She snapped out of it and saw Devon standing next to her.

  “What makes you say that?” she asked.

  “You’ve almost gone cross-eyed you’re staring so hard at Scott. I’ve known him a year now, Peyton. He’s exactly what he appears to be. Believe me, I’m in a position to be very suspicious of men who seem perfect and are hiding something. Scott is the real deal. You don’t have to be nervous about liking him.”

  “What makes you think I like him in any particular way?” she asked.

  Devon laughed. “You look at him like you’re trying to look into him. Relax. He’s okay. Want a hot dog or hamburger? People are eating.”

  “Great, I’m starving!” she said, happy for the distraction.

  She wanted to spend a little time in the hayloft. She wanted to fall into this man and stay in his arms for life, and it scared the hell out of her. She was not at all afraid of holding him and loving him tonight.... She was afraid of finding herself trying to hold it together in two or three years.

  Peyton got a plate and visited with Carrie for a while. Carrie sat with Gina and Mac at one of the new picnic tables Cooper had brought to the beach, and for the first time in a long time her leg wasn’t elevated. “How’s the knee these days?” Peyton asked.

  “Excellent. I’ve been careful the last few weeks, not standing for such long hours. All thanks to my daughter, granddaughter and Rawley. They helped me with the cooking and baking. I only lost one catering job and the dinner meals for only a week or so. I think I’m going to be fine.”

  “I think the next time, you’re going to have surgery,” Peyton said. “Have you been thinking about that?”

  “Thinking and researching. I’m determined to come to some kind of conclusion before the next time my knee gives out. I’m going to be ready before that happens!”

  “Good for you,” Peyton said. And right then, Rawley delivered Carrie a plate holding a hamburger, deviled eggs and an ear of corn. Buttered. “It seems Rawley takes very good care of you,” Peyton observed.

  “He’s an old friend,” Carrie said. “I never asked him for his help, but he’s been wonderful lately.”

  “Mom made sure he had food at his house after his father died, and he’s been indebted ever since,” Gina said. “Rawley doesn’t have much to say, but he’s a good old guy. Good to have him watching over us all.”

  “That’s nothing to complain about,” Peyton said, giving Carrie’s hand a pat.

  She moved on to where Cooper and Sarah were sitting with the baby in the stroller beside them. And right next to the stroller, Ham towered, watching closely. When Peyton approached with her plate of food, Cooper jumped up and flipped open an extra canvas beach chair for her. “Thanks,” she said, taking the seat. “How’s the baby doing?”

  “She’s very loud,” Sarah said with a laugh. “I’m afraid Ham is going to wig out any day now.”

  “He looks so calm,” Peyton said.

  “When she’s quiet, he’s quiet. When she starts screeching, he runs in circles and moans until she’s quiet again. Then he lays his big muzzle as close to her as he can get, usually on my lap. He’s adorable. I don’t think even I love Summer as much as Ham does.”

  “Maybe when she wakes up, he’ll let me hold her,” Peyton said, taking a bite of her hot dog.

  “He’s very generous,” Sarah said. “He doesn’t care who holds her as long as she’s being comforted and stops crying.”

  “And, are you ready to give Landon over to the Ducks?” she asked.

  “Not really, but he’s ready to go. Everything is going to change around here,” Sarah said. “See those kids over on that blanket? Landon’s leaving, and Eve will be looking for ways to earn gas money so she can visit him and go to the games. I doubt Landon will be around much during football season, and when he is around, I bet he’s with Eve. Frank, the tall dark-haired kid? He’s going to Princeton—but every college wanted him. I hear he’s brilliant. I bet anything Ashley follows him eventually. She’s wild about him. We’re going to have to hire some help for the bar. Cooper and I can’t run it without Landon and also go to his games. Plus, Summer needs parents who don’t work twelve hours a day, seven days a week, and Rawley can’t do everything. Cooper wants to pour two more foundations along the hillside. He likes the building more than anything.”

  “Spec houses,” Cooper said around a mouthful of hot dog. “I want to build and sell a couple of spec houses. Need to get that foundation poured and the houses framed before the wet and cold settles in.” Then he grinned and added, “You should see what me in a tool belt does to Sarah!”

  “He’s dreaming,” Sarah said.

  “And it’s a great dream,” he said with a laugh. “You should join me, honey!”

  “So, Peyton, rumor is you’re seeing Scott these days,” Sarah said.

  “I see him all the time,” she said. “We work together.”

  Sarah tilted her head and gave Peyton a sly smile.

  “Okay, we’ve gone out a few times. It’s not serious,” she was quick to inform them. “I have a job offer in Seattle that I’m considering.”

  “Oh, I hope it turns out to be a lousy offer! Not that I don’t wish you the best, but we’d love to keep you here. You fit in, you know?”

  “This is a nice place to fit in to,” she agreed.

  Cooper lifted his empty plate and said, “I’m getting seconds. Want anything, babe?”

  “Deviled eggs!” Sarah said.

  When he was out of earshot, Peyton said, “You used to fly for the Coast Guard. What made you decide to give it all up for this little town?”

  “Besides this little town?” she returned with a laugh. Sarah nodded toward Cooper. “Look at him. I held him off as long as I could, but Cooper is the best man in the world. He loves my little brother as much as I do. He’d go anywhere for me, even if it meant leaving what he loves. And besides, he’s right about the tool belt. Don’t tell him I said that—he’s a little arrogant.”

  The baby started to stir, and sure enough, Ham was upright, watching. “My turn,” Peyton said, putting her empty plate on the sand and scooping up the baby. She jiggled the fussiness out of her, and little Summer snuggled in, quieting at once, mollified. Ham sat again, at peace.

  “But would you have stayed here? If not for Cooper?”

  “I wanted to stay at least another year. That was mostly for Landon, so he could finish high school without moving for his senior year, but the thought of leaving really bothered me. I had made friends. I had a wonderful man in my life. The Coast Guard definitely pushed my decision, but I’m completely happy with it. Everyone is family.”

  “I grew up in a small town,” Peyton said. “Sometimes too much family is too much.”

  Sarah laughed. “That’s true anywhere, I think. This town is no exception. People get very nosy. That takes getting used to. But if you’re ever in trouble, in need of help, this is a good place to be.”

  “I remember that, as well,” Peyton said. Indeed, so often it seemed like too much family. But then when the sheep needed to be s
heared, the potatoes and fruit harvested, butchering to be done, not only did the Lacoumette family gather en masse, there were folks from neighboring farms, townsfolk the Lacoumette family had aided, present to lend a hand. They helped on each other’s farms, put out fires, gave shelter to friends in need, congregated to build and assembled to party.

  The baby squirmed a little. “Is she hungry yet?” Peyton asked.

  “Well, she’s hungry most of the time, but she had a bottle a couple of hours ago.”

  Peyton gazed at the baby. She had held every single niece and nephew and a multitude of other infants. They always felt secure in her arms; she had always felt confident holding them. She’d started holding babies when she was a baby herself—her younger brother and sister, George and Ginny, twins, had come along when she was two. She had never longed for one of her own until the past few years. She was over thirty before it occurred to her that a child of her own might feel slightly different, somewhat more precious. And now she supposed she’d never have one. She had known better than to add one more to Ted’s tumultuous horde. And not only did Scott have his children already, childbirth might have cost him his wife.

  When Cooper returned, she passed over the baby and went to sit with Scott and his children.

  “I thought you were avoiding me,” he said, putting his arm around her.

  “Not at all. I was visiting people.”

  “Having a good time?”

  “How could anyone not have a good time?”

  Before long, Gabby and Charles said their goodbyes and ambled across the beach, headed for home. Soon after they left, Spencer was at their table. “I’ve got a dilemma,” he said to Scott. “I’ve got a few football players who are uninsured, and their families find the cost of a sports physical pretty steep. There might be as many as five or six, a couple of whom might not go out for the team because of the requirements. They can get their school physicals at a free clinic, but, as you know, we need something a little more thorough than just a student physical, and we need it done before practice starts.”

  “No problem, Spence. Send ’em by the clinic.”

  “I don’t know if everything will be covered by state aid, but before these boys play for me, I have to be sure their health is sound. I have a few issues with the team because of the income of some of the families in the area.”

  “Issues like what?” Peyton asked.

  “Well, some of them won’t get enough balance in their diet during the season. I’ve gotten in the habit of bringing some high-octane fiber and heavy duty vitamins as well as a lot of beef jerky that I get wholesale. They not only have to have the stamina for football, they have to build muscle if they’re going to go up against those inland farm boys. Some of ’em are already big and muscled from working with their families on the fishing boats and eating a ton of solid fish. These boys get a lot of pasta—white pasta. The carbs keep ’em going, but they need muscle and brain food. I have a protein drink I give them during training. You’d be amazed how big and healthy I can get these kids if I concentrate.” Then he smiled with satisfaction.

  “And does the school pay for that?” Peyton asked, though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

  “Nah. But teachers have been known to bring supplies to schools for years. This is just as important as pencils, believe me. Some of our families live close to the poverty line. Like the Russell boys, before Al took over as their foster father. You know what I’m talking about. And these guys need things like sports and academics for scholarships or they won’t get to go to college. Everything we do now changes the face of this town for the future.”

  “I have an idea,” Scott said. “Pick a practice day early in the schedule. Tell the boys we’re doing physicals at the gym. Tell them if they have insurance information to bring it, and if they don’t, don’t worry about it.”

  “That’d be great, Scott. I’ll help shoulder the cost of that,” Spencer said.

  “Nah, don’t worry about it,” Scott said. “I’ll do blood draws and urine tests, and if we find anything hinky, FHIAP will step up to the plate for low income families.”

  “FHIAP?” he asked.

  “Family Health Insurance Assistance Program,” Peyton explained. “If they’re sick, that is. They don’t provide football physicals, but it’s one of the best ways to find out if they’re sick. I’ll come with Scott. How many boys on the team?” she asked.

  “Thirty,” Spencer said. “Sometimes we get thirty-five.”

  “We’ll clear appointments for a morning,” she said. “What time of day do you start practice?”

  “Early. Six-thirty.”

  “Awww...” she whined. “You’re as bad as a farm! My dad wasn’t happy unless everyone was out of bed at five!”

  Scott laughed. “I’ll be there and Miss Slug-abed can catch up.”

  “I’ll be there,” she groaned. “I can help. And since Scott is pretty incompetent at paperwork, I’ll help keep that straight so Devon doesn’t eat him alive. Too bad hunting season is so late in the fall—we get some amazing venison jerky off the farm.”

  Scott covered her hand. “Every time I’m at the store, I’ll throw some jerky in the cart for Spencer.”

  “Daddy, I have to go to the bathroom,” Jenny said, tugging at Scott’s sleeve.

  “The house is unlocked,” Spencer said. “I better find Mercy and make sure she’s under control. Thanks, you guys! On behalf of the team, I owe you one.”

  Scott talked Will into making a bathroom run at the same time, Spencer left in search of his family, and suddenly Peyton was there alone. What just happened here? she wondered. We’re not just a clinic. We’re propping up our neighbors. We’re feeding the hungry kids, making sacrifices to be sure they’re educated, all for one, one for all. Everything was a community project.

  It was a lot like being at home.

  Ted had given to charitable causes. He’d usually done so in a tux, writing a check. But checks were important, too. Very important. And he’d taken on the occasional patient who couldn’t meet the cost of the best cardiologist in the state, but it just didn’t feel the same as this. He didn’t ever get his hands dirty.

  She looked around the beach. The volleyball net had gone up. Al, the foster father, was having a beer and laughing with his lady friend, Ray Anne the Realtor, while his boys were playing in the game. One of the boys was helping young Austin watch for the ball and position his hands so he could bump the ball. Over at Cooper’s area, Landon was holding his baby niece, rocking her against his shoulder while Ham repeatedly nudged him in the waist. Rawley was having some dessert with Carrie. Mac and Gina were surrounded by family—a bunch of kids, Mac’s aunt Lou and her husband, Joe. All her new friends were here.

  Peyton tried to remember what it felt like to be completely dazzled by Ted, by his polished good looks, his brilliance, his mystique. He had the classiest practice she’d ever worked in, a six-thousand-square-foot decorated beauty to live in, expensive late-model cars to drive. And she believed he had loved her. Until he’d stopped. When had he stopped? She wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe when they began to argue about his kids. Every time she thought about them, it made her sad. She had wanted them to find in her a kindred spirit, a woman who shared a bond in loving Ted.

  That hadn’t happened.

  Ted had given her beautiful clothes and jewelry. Items she made sure to pack when she left his home, most of which would look painfully out of place here.

  Scott brought her cannoli. It made her smile. She had almost never tasted better cannoli in her life. They were almost as good as her mother’s.

  * * *

  Carrie packed up her beach-mobile with coolers, thermoses, tablecloths and other picnic things. She was ready to head for home when Rawley approached her and said, “I’ll drive over in a few minutes and just help you unload that.”

  “I can do it if you have other things to do.”

  “I’ll be there directly,” he said.

  So, off
she went across the beach. She arrived at her house and right behind her came that cranberry-red restored truck that Rawley drove. Without a word, he started carrying things into her house. When all was inside, they met in the kitchen. “I hope you know, I appreciate your help. I’m much better now, Rawley. My knee hardly bothers me at all. I don’t want you worrying.”

  “I ain’t worried,” he said, but he didn’t look at her.

  “Good. Don’t feel you have to keep up with me.”

  “I don’t,” he said.

  “You’re here a lot,” she pointed out.

  “You’d rather I be scarce?” he asked.

  “No. I like you.”

  “Good. We have ourselves a deal then.”

  “Do we? What kind of deal do we have?” she asked.

  “I help out. I don’t have to keep up. I like it. You like it.”

  “True,” she said. “Cup of coffee?” she asked.

  “I reckon.”

  “Have a seat. I’ll put on the pot.”

  Before sitting, Rawley put away a few of the things they’d brought in the house. He was so comfortable there, he knew where everything went. Then he sat at the table. “You serve up a good cup of coffee,” he told her.

  “I’d better. It’s my business.”

  “There’s a thing or two you know about me already. I’m not good around a mess of people. I like being on my own more or less. When your knee went all gimpy, I found out I liked cooking. I’d rather be cooking than serving. On the other hand, you’re awful good with people.”

  “Caterers have to be,” she reminded him. “But you like being with me.”

  “I don’t mind them other women much, either. You’re all kind of alike.”

  “What other women? You mean Lou and Ray Anne? We’re nothing alike!”

  “You think not?” he asked. “Well, maybe I can take you in groups of three, then.”

  “Maybe,” she said, sitting at the table with him. “What is it you’re trying to say, Rawley? That you like to cook?”

  “I always liked to, I just wasn’t sure of that before. And you make passable company.”

  “Thank you. I think,” she said. “I’m not exactly looking for a man in my life. But there’s a thing or two you probably don’t know about me. I’ve been alone a very long time. My husband walked out when Gina was five years old and never bothered to drop a check in the mail. Not once. The next time he turned up, he turned up dead. Gina was around thirteen, I think. He never divorced us, but he did get himself a new family—a new wife and child. I’ve been in a bad mood about that ever since. Consequently, I don’t much trust men.”

 

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