If Peyton had been a little intimidated by the grandmothers, Nancy put her quickly at ease. “I didn’t think I’d get a chance to meet you unless I went to Thunder Point to see Scott. He talks about you, you know. I know he got you in the clinic by sheer accident. He claims you are a much sought-after PA who happened to be in the area right when he was looking for help.”

“That pretty much sums it up, though I don’t know about the much sought-after part,” Peyton said.

“She has a great deal of experience,” Scott said. “She suggested we show the kids her family’s farm—a quick weekend before school starts.”

“Tell me about the farm,” Nancy begged. “What kind of farm?”

Peyton happily explained about the pears, potatoes and sheep, about the huge extended family that included Uncle Sal and Aunt Sophie’s vineyard, Lucas’s Basque restaurant in San Francisco, Adele having a baby soon, the side of the family that fished off the coast near Tillamook. There were other family farms and restaurants and fishing fleets between Portland and Reno. “There will be a lot of people around the farm this weekend, picking pears, getting ready to dig up potatoes. Then my family will end up at the vineyard for a few days between the pears and potatoes to help harvest the grapes. In the spring it’s lambing and shearing. They have to get the wool off early so the sheep can get good sweaters before the cold comes. All the kids love the lambing season. They’re not that crazy about picking pears.”

“And where do the pears go?”

“Mostly to Harry & David and surrounding food retailers. Potatoes go to a lot of restaurant suppliers, grocery chains and Frito-Lay. It’s a pretty large farm.”

“What a wonderful way to grow up,” Nancy said.

“It’s a demanding way to grow up. My father brags that he takes them off the breast and into the grove or fields.”

“What kind of talk is that?” Patricia asked tartly.

Peyton laughed. “That’s a proud Basque farmer talking. He swears he took it right out of the Old Testament, but I suspect that’s pure legend, not fact. He also claims we descended from royalty and my mother whispers that that’s bull. Basque businessmen, fishermen and landholders like a lot of family to help them get the job done. I have three sisters and four brothers and too many aunts, uncles and cousins to count.”

When Suzanne took the kids outside to wear off a little energy before dinner, Peyton casually remarked, “She seems like a sweet lady.”

And Patricia, busy over by the sink said, “You don’t want to get on her bad side.”

Peyton covered her laugh with a hand. She sat with Nancy at the kitchen table while Patricia puttered with food, yet obviously hadn’t missed a word of their conversation.

“The pot speaketh of the kettle,” Nancy said with a laugh.

Peyton was put to bed in Patricia’s craft room while Scott and the kids shared the guest room. She actually had a very nice time, but it wasn’t hard to understand his decision to get out of Dodge.

In the morning, they were up early. Scott took over the kitchen and made a big breakfast for everyone. Of course, Suzanne was there, but Nancy and her kids declined. Once he had filled his kids with food and run them around the block a couple of times, they were off in the direction of Portland as the farm was southeast of that city. The kids, in their safety seats, had their little movies to occupy them, and within a half hour, they were out cold.

It seemed that was just the moment Scott had been waiting for. At the very next rest stop, he pulled over and parked under some big, leafy trees, unsnapped his seat belt and turned to Peyton. He grabbed her chin in a hand and kissed her. “I don’t like not sleeping with you,” he said softly. “I’m sorry about the craft room. I don’t think my mother even does crafts!”

“It was just fine,” she said with a laugh. “I can’t wait to see where my parents put you for the night. Do you like chickens?”

“Was it unbearable? The visit?”

“Not at all,” she said. “The grandmothers are a little intense in their own individual ways, but their hearts are in the right place—they love their grandchildren. Are they always like that?”

“Always. They don’t spend any time together that doesn’t include Jenny and Will. Before Will came along, it was the same with Serena and me—everything had to be perfectly divided or there was hell to pay in the form of guilt and badgering. We only spent a few years in Vancouver, always looking for an opportunity elsewhere.”

“Didn’t your mothers realize they were driving you away?”

“Of course not,” he said. “Not even when we said so. But with the kids, they have this interesting division of duties. Suzanne spoils and plays, Patricia teaches and disciplines. Suzanne excuses, Patricia praises. Suzanne fusses, Patricia rewards. They need all of it. They’re in heaven. As long as they’re not a pressure on the kids, I can deal with them. At least they’re getting old enough to spend time in Vancouver without me. I can take them up there, spend a day or two, leave them for a couple of weeks, go back for them.” He grinned at her. “Thunder Point was pure genius. For a lot of reasons.” And then he kissed her again.

“You’d better get it all out of your system, Dr. Grant. My family is completely different but no less challenging. Don’t be too surprised if my mother or father takes you aside and questions our relationship and your intentions.”

“I have the best intentions in the world. It’s your intentions that need a little work.”

“My parents are actually more progressive than a lot of the family. They knew I lived with Ted. They still put us in separate bedrooms, but they knew. They’re good, except when they’re plotting to arrange marriages.”

“Seriously?” he asked.

“A time-honored custom. Their kids were not very excited by the notion and didn’t want the assistance. I suspect meddling, just the same. I don’t think Lucas and Adele are purely an accident, even if she did do some PR work for his restaurant.”

“Just make out with me a little before we take on the next family challenge.”

She giggled and put her arms around his neck, kissing him intensely.

“Dad?” Will said from the backseat. “We there?”

Scott let go of her reluctantly. “Almost,” he said. “Not much longer. Watch your movie.”