She slowly opened her eyes and found, once again, she had Scott’s full attention. She noticed, not for the first time, that he could listen with his eyes. There was nothing remarkable about the shape or color, but the way he looked at people caused everyone to trust him. She trusted him.

“I think I drooled right there,” he said.

She laughed. “If you turn out to be my friend, maybe I’ll take you to the farm someday.”

He took a bite of his burrito before responding. “I envy you, Peyton. Not many people enjoy that richness of tradition, the specialty of it, the uniqueness. I’m just white bread—a mixture of about ten different cultures that no one clung to and have become so watered down by now there’s probably not a single family recipe in the family. Tell me something—did your brothers and sisters marry in the Basque community?”

She shook her head. “Only two. George, a committed Basque sheep herder, found himself a Basque wife, but she’s not an old-world domestic. They have two children, and she’s a physical therapist who drives all the way to Oregon City four days a week where she’s the director of a therapy facility. She can throw together a hell of a lamb stew, though,” she said, laughing. “And Adele, baby sister, was determined not to marry in the culture, and then she accidentally fell for a restaurateur from San Francisco. Now, that’s where you want to eat if you like Basque cuisine. They’re the ones due to have their first child soon. I will be there for that!”

“I would love to meet your family someday,” he said, his voice soft.

“I don’t think I have time for a lot of kids, but I want what my parents have. I don’t recall one single time they weren’t on the same team. My father never vetoed a decision made by my mother or vice versa. If Papa disciplined one of us, my mother upheld it to the letter. They were always the first up in the morning, and I woke to the sounds of them talking about things, planning the schedule, maybe arguing a little, getting everything straight before the start of the day. Same at night, their low voices in their bedroom.” She laughed. “And he still embarrasses her by grabbing her and kissing her in front of everyone. They’re over sixty and completely devoted to each other. They’re very good friends. They’re partners. I want that. I doubt I’ll ever find it, but I want it.”

* * *

Peyton was unlike any woman Scott had ever known. Smart, funny, wise and, oh, so beautiful. Exotic and sexy and just plain hot. She was so different from his wife. Serena had been a small pale blonde, petite except for her feet and sometimes frail-looking, even when she put on weight. Peyton was tall and sturdy and strong. Rosy-cheeked, tan skin and of robust health. And he couldn’t recall ever knowing a woman whose hair he wanted to stroke, to lie in, to bury his face in. And yet, she was completely unavailable to him.

“You seem to be sensible and well grounded,” he said. “I’m surprised you don’t have a partner.”

“Well,” she said slowly, as if trying to decide whether or not to share. “I was in a relationship. I’m afraid it was a bitter breakup and one of the reasons I needed a change. I don’t think I want to go back to Portland, where we had so many friends. Even though that was convenient for visiting my parents.”

“I’m sorry, Peyton. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” she said with a shrug. “I should’ve known. I’m not usually naive. There were so many warning signs that we weren’t compatible, and I somehow managed to ignore them all. But let’s not go there. I take all the blame—I wasn’t paying attention. Or something.” She flushed a little, laughed in embarrassment and lifted her glass. “Gotta love a little beer. I didn’t mean to say even that much.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m a good listener.”

“What’s your excuse?” she asked pointedly. “Your wife’s been gone awhile now.”

“Well, my lunch counter shrink, Gina, said that even though I might want to move on, it was obvious I wasn’t ready.”

“Oh?”

“I took Gina out a couple of times before she and Mac were engaged. According to her, I talked about my deceased wife the whole time. Through two dinners.”

“Oh,” she said. “Yeah, I suppose a little bit of that goes a long way if you’re trying to date someone.”

“So I’m told...”

“Well, you’ve hardly said a word to me. If fact, you were so quiet about her that I thought you were married, not widowed.”

“I didn’t intend that, either,” he said.

“Well, knock yourself out. Tell me all about her. You’re not going to damage our relationship.”

He thought about it and realized the urge to talk about Serena was not as strong. Not that he didn’t think about her. He did. He just didn’t feel a burning need to tell Peyton all the details. But he didn’t want to seem rude. “We were together a long time,” he said. “We started dating in high school. We were each other’s first loves. She was with me all through college and med school and residency. We’d waited a long time to start a family, both of us working. She was a CPA who worked with a big firm. We planned that she would one day manage my practice. So, finally we had Will, and it was so effortless, we decided to do it again right away. She died right after Jenny’s birth. An autopsy revealed SAH.”

“Subarachnoid hemorrhage.”

“Rare, but not unheard of. It must have been an aneurysm lying in wait, and no one knew.”

“I’m so very sorry, Scott,” Peyton said.

“Thank you. I think I’ve gotten my life together pretty well since then. A couple of years ago I did a study of areas in the Pacific Northwest that were underserved, visited about twenty small towns, two little kids along for the ride. Serena and I loved California—I studied at Stanford. We never talked about small towns, but here I was a single father and I had to decide where to raise my kids because I couldn’t possibly know if I’d ever again meet a woman I was that compatible with. We could finish each other’s sentences. But Thunder Point, with no doctor’s office or clinic, reminded me of a small Astoria, a pretty town, a place where I could work and keep tabs on two kids. I think it was a good choice.” Then he smiled and added, “But it’s not going to make me rich.”