“Does that mean recovery requires you stop being in love?”

“The opposite,” he said. “It requires you make a promise. A bond. I love you, Peyton. I don’t want to live without you. I don’t think Jenny and Will want to live without you, either. I want you to marry me. No matter what you say, I think I’m going to love you forever.”

“Well,” she said, considering. “There are terms.”

“Name ’em.”

“Well, for starters, you’re going to have to learn to communicate. If you’d asked questions or opened a dialogue, you might not have to do so much apologizing.”

“I agree to that. Absolutely.”

“Next, after we’re married, I want to be an associate in the clinic. We can make it strong if we’re partners. As long as we have enough, the income doesn’t matter as much as the work we can do.”

“I want that, too. And I agree.”

“And I want another child.”

His mouth fell open.

She put a hand up. “I know you might be scared, given what happened to Serena. But that won’t happen to me. And I think when people love each other and make a bond, it’s good for them to make a child if they can. That might be very old-world thinking, but I promise not to surprise you with eight of them. I just... I really want to feel our baby move inside me. I want to watch it grow.”

He crawled over to her and pulled her into his arms. “I’m not afraid. I’d like that.”

“And finally, you have to promise to be fearless with me, with everything that concerns me. You have to suck it up and stare our problems in the eye. There will be problems. I’ll usually be right, of course....”

He grinned. “Your father mentioned that might be the case.”

“He did? That old bull—he’s the one who has to always be right!”

“Really? He said if I took you off his hands, we’d open a bottle of sack to celebrate.”

“That’s his special stock, sent to him years ago by a relative in the Balearic Islands in Spain. He must be rooting for you.”

“He offered me a dowry. Of course, it was only you, but—”

She slugged him. “Only me?”

“God, you hit hard! I was about to say, but you’re all I want.”

“Better.”

“I thought you were a poor farm kid.”

“So did I,” she said with a laugh. “Farmers are very careful—one bad year can be a disaster, two bad years can be the end. They’re superstitious—they don’t brag about their success. You know what Papa said when he saw my fancy car? He said, can you live in it? Will it make baby cars? Is there a point to it?”

“Your father is wise. And he’s been very successful.”

“Don’t tell him that. ‘Do I look rich? My wealth is in the ground, hanging from the trees,’” she mimicked. “Poor Mouth Paco—he could buy and sell Ted five times over.”

Scott ran a finger along her jaw. “His wealth is in his family. And my wealth will be in my wife and children. Marry me, Peyton. Belong to me. I’m not worth a damn without you.”