And they came running. Yelling. “Peyton! Peyton!” Jenny and Will attached themselves to her legs, hugging her so hard she dropped to one knee to gather them in. “You’re here! You came!”

Oh, God. She hoped Scott wouldn’t see that tears sparked in her eyes. They liked her? They were happy to see her?

“I can show you a movie,” Jenny said.

“We can have one on the TV, all of us,” Will said. “We can have popcorn and ice cream because we ate a good dinner!”

“Or we can have a tent! You can come in it!”

“Do you want popcorn and ice cream?” Will asked.

“We can play Candy Land in the tent!”

She looked up. Scott had put aside the large box and was smiling down on her, hands on his hips. “Your fan club.”

“I have to go,” she said to him, her voice soft.

“Okay, kids, let Peyton out of your mighty little grips. She has to go. Peyton, you have a date or something?”

“No...no, I just...well, I’m a little tired, and I left the car running.” But as she said that she had an arm around each child’s little waist, holding them closer.

“Are you worn out from your weekend away?” Scott asked.

She shook her head forlornly. She was sunk, and she knew it. She kissed a couple of hot little cheeks.

“Why don’t you give me your keys, and I’ll turn off your car?”

She made a small sound, a kind of weak whimper, as she handed over the keys.

“Don’t let them take complete advantage of you. I was just about to make them some popcorn,” Scott said. He went out the door. That’s when she noticed he was wearing worn leather slippers. And she found them incredibly sexy. That wasn’t a good sign. Her sister Ginny called her Fancy Pantsy; designer clothing was supposed to be sexy to her.

By the time Scott came back in the house, perhaps only thirty seconds later, Will had the Candy Land board opened on the living room floor. The kids were literally bouncing on the floor in excitement. Given they were only four and five, Peyton expected it would be a long game, but they’d played it so often they’d become fast. After two games, Will wanted to play War using three decks of cards. On their third game, Scott was hovering again. “I’m making popcorn. You have to let Peyton have a break. Glass of wine, Peyton?”

She had gathered her composure by now. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No, actually. I was planning on heating up one of those low-cal frozen dinners. I ate enough over the weekend to keep me for days.”

“I happen to have a box of some of the best Basque takeout there is, and I bet you never get sick of it. I think I’ll start warming it up. White or red?”

“That Rioja is from my uncle’s vineyard, but if you have any cold white I’d love some. If you wait till we’re done here, I can help get everything ready....”

“I got it. I’m an expert at warming. By the time you finish your next game, their popcorn will be ready.”

A few minutes later Scott was back holding a big bowl of popcorn. “All right, you two. I’ll put a movie on for you. Peyton’s going to have a little dinner with me.”

“Can we play some more?” Will asked.

“Maybe after our dinner and your movie. Come on, up on the couch.” He reached out a hand to Peyton to pull her to her feet, then he settled the kids with their treat and started the movie. They settled in just that fast. Scott pulled her into the kitchen where her wine sat on the table. “Sit down, Peyton. Tell me about your weekend while I warm some of this.”

“Can I help?”

“Relax. Talk to me.”

“Where’s the sitter?”

“Date night with Charles, the love of her life. How’s your family?”

While Scott busied himself around the stove and microwave, she talked to him and enjoyed her wine. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been served so efficiently, as if she were an honored guest. Plates and utensils appeared, he added a little wine to her glass, and they were serving up plates and bowls. Conversation turned to the food as Peyton explained what they were eating. He had a hundred questions about the farm and the extended family who were involved in vineyards, restaurants, more farming and ranching.

He glanced into the living room and smiled at her. “You’re off the hook for more Candy Land or War.”

“They’re out cold,” she said.

“I knew that would happen. We were busy today. I love the way they sleep—Will sprawls just like I do, Jenny curls into a little ball.”

He went to fetch the popcorn bowl before it landed on the floor, then whisked away the dishes. She started to get up to help, and he said, “Sit tight, we’re not doing dishes. I just want to save the leftovers. We’re going to finish our wine and enjoy the quiet.”

“You’re awfully good at this,” she said.

“Practice.” He came back to the table.

“You’ve been on your own for a while now,” she said.

“I’ve had help. I’ve had the grandmas, sitters, day care, nannies. And Gabriella for the past two years. I don’t know what we’ll do without her. I’m on the hunt—there has to be someone out there.”

“You must miss your wife so much.”

“It’s a process,” he said. “At first I was in so much pain and shock I couldn’t move. Then I was angry. Angry that she’d leave me with such impossible responsibility. For a couple of years, I just pedaled as fast as I could, afraid to lift my head or I’d miss something important. And then I realized that I wasn’t the only person in the world who had this kind of life. Mostly women had been in my shoes. I saw a lot of single mothers and their children in the ER, young women struggling to make ends meet, some of them working two jobs just to squeak by. In fact, my mother had that life—my father died when I was ten and my sister was fourteen, leaving my mom on her own with a couple of kids. I decided I’d better live the life I had or I was going to be sorry. I had to let go of that anger at being abandoned and show a little gratitude for what I had. That’s when I broke my mother’s heart by looking for Thunder Point and a small clinic where I could work and raise my kids.”

“I don’t think that’s the way most widowers or divorced fathers do it,” she said, thinking of Ted. “Most men who find themselves single fathers just install a new mother or at least a babysitter.”