“At least there are no feuds,” Paco said. “Intermarry enough and the feuds all die away. So, what do you have to offer her? Or did you just come to examine her dowry?”

“She has a dowry?” Scott asked.

Paco turned to face him. “Look at me! Do I look like a rich man?” He turned the pockets on his worn overalls inside out. “I have no money.” Then he gestured to the fields where those huge harvesters that cost about a billion each chugged along. “My wealth is in the ground! In the stock! In the orchard.” Then he paused meaningfully and said, “In my children. That’s the dowry—she is worth a king’s ransom to me.”

“I don’t have much. A clinic that’s small and takes every cent to run. But I love her, Mr. Lacoumette.”

“Well, let’s talk about what you have. Do you have a strong heart? Are you a man of your word? Are you faithful and willing to work for your family? Do you have a generous spirit that’s willing to help people?”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“And are you willing to dance for your family?” he asked softly. “Because life is not only work, you know.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then, perhaps you’ll do. I leave that to my daughter. And I warn you, she has made a mistake or two.”

“She won’t make a mistake with me, sir.”

“She’s stubborn—it’s terrible at times. She’s also very softhearted. I see her with the children and with the animals, and she has trouble being firm with them. She has a difficult nature when she wants to be right, but I admit she gets that from her mother. But she’s not delicate, that’s an advantage. You might have trying days with her, son. She will not be easy to tame.”

“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.”