One advantage of my drive from Parsons' home back to Portwenn was that it allowed me to think without simultaneously having to carry on a conversation.

Louisa had never answered my question about whether she would be – or even could be – happy in London. I was quite certain I knew the answer. Twice she'd lived there – once in college and once after our non-wedding – and both times she'd returned to Portwenn. Why should her third time be a charm, as the adage went? Why had I thought that, just because I'd wanted to live and work in London, such a move would make her happy?

When I'd packed my things for London, I'd convinced myself that I could easily pick up my life exactly where I'd left it. I didn't need Portwenn or Louisa. All I needed was my surgical practice and a small flat in a convenient location.

And, when I started to drive away from the village on the long trip to London, I promised myself that I'd never look back, at least not fondly. Portwenn was now my past; London was my future.

And yet, I couldn't even get out of town. No, I'd had to stop my car when that silly teacher had collapsed from methanol poisoning. And that had led me to the moors and Louisa and the pub and the birth of my son and . . . doubts.

I told myself that, when the new GP took over, I wouldn't interfere. She was the doctor; she, not I, was now responsible for the nearly one thousand lives in the village and its surroundings. And yet, I found myself unable to stand by as Dr. Dibbs doled out her doses of incompetence. I'd cared for these people for the past several years and I was damned if I'd let someone undo all of the good work I'd done in that time. For reasons I couldn't quite explain, I did care about these people – at least about their health – and, as I was coming to realize, I always would. And hated myself for it.

There was little doubt that remaining in Portwenn would make Louisa happy, but would it make me happy? After all, I openly derided the village and its denizens at virtually every opportunity. As I was wont to say, I was here to provide competent medical care, not to make friends and, in that I had fully succeeded. There was no doubt that the standard of GP care in the village had significantly increased under my tenure. Still, only days ago I'd told Louisa that I would stay in Portwenn for her, because she and James were here. And I wouldn't go back on that promise. If she wanted to stay in Portwenn, then by God I'd somehow manage.

When I returned to the surgery an hour later, I found Louisa in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. James Henry was sitting contentedly in his carrier on the counter watching her. I stepped over to him and, as was my wont, touched the back of my hand to his forehead, finding it soft and pleasantly cool.

"How's Chris?" she asked, looking up at me.

I shook my head. "Ornery as ever."

"Martin!" She gave me an exasperated look.

"Medically, he's fine. Doing very well, actually."

"I'm so glad." She scooped a handful of carrots into a bowl. "I'm making a roast for dinner."

"Meat?"

"Yes, Martin. Meat. It's only one night."

"Right." It probably wouldn't kill me to eat meat on occasion. After all, I'd forced fish on Louisa almost every night since we'd been together. "By the way, Chris asked what we plan to do. Where I want to work."

She glanced up from her chopping. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him I needed to talk it over with you."

"Really?" The surprise in her voice was obvious – and somewhat disconcerting, as I once again realized how little I'd consulted her over the years.

"Yes." I retrieved plates and silverware from the cupboard and started setting the table. "Louisa, you don't really want to go to London, do you?"

"I said I'd go with you, Martin, and I meant it."

"But you wouldn't be happy there . . . and neither would I."

Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

It was time to be honest. If I'd meant all of the things I'd said to Louisa at the castle, now was the time to start proving it. "I wanted to go to London because . . . because it wasn't here. And because I thought I could recapture what I once had, a time when I thought I was truly happy."

Louisa put down the knife and stared at me. "Martin?"

I placed the last of the silverware and dropped into a chair. "London may have made me happy then; I'm not sure. But I know it won't make me happy now."

"But I thought . . . you're sure?"

"Yes," I said. And I was. Whatever impulse had driven me to return to London was now gone. There was nothing for me there. No friends, no family, and now not even a surgical career. There was only an empty, bright white flat overlooking the stupid science museum.

She leaned against the counter. "So what do you . . . what do we . . . do?"

I sighed. "The GP position here is still open. Would you like me to stay here? In Portwenn?"

Her eyes seemed to gaze right through me and for at least a full minute, she remained silent. "I don't know," she finally said, so softly that I almost didn't hear her.

This time it was my turn to look surprised. "But I thought . . ." I'd always assumed she wanted to stay here, living in the village where she grew up, socializing with her lifelong friends, teaching in the school she'd attended as a child. And thus that she'd want me to stay here as well.

"I've already given my notice at school—"

I waved off her objection. "Certainly they'd tear it up. They won't find a better head teacher."

"And there's Mrs. Tishell." It was almost as if Louisa hadn't heard my reply, or compliment. "Oh, I know it wasn't her fault, that she was ill," she continued. "But she kidnapped our baby! She wasn't some stranger. She's someone I'd known and you'd known for years. We trusted her. And she stole him. She could have killed him. . . my God, Martin, he could have died."

"Louisa—"

"No! Martin. Let me finish."

I closed my mouth.

"When she took James Henry away, she took away the innocence of Portwenn, at least for me. I can never look at her again, knowing what she did." She sniffed, clearly holding back tears. "And I'm not sure I can ever look at Portwenn the same way again either."

I stood up from the chair and walked toward her, reaching out a hand to brush a single tear from her cheek. "Oh, Louisa." I didn't know what to say. I'd been so busy bemoaning my own fate that I'd never stopped to think about Louisa's feelings . . . her struggles. I'd never stopped to consider what she might be going through. It was one of the many things I'd need to learn.

Louisa was still talking. "It seems there are as many bad memories as good ones. My dad stealing from everyone, my mum caring more about cooking with Bert than her own grandchild, Mr. Strain, Edith Montgomery. Maybe all this is telling me it's time for me to leave, time to move on. Time to get away from this wretched place and these wretched people . . ."

"Louisa."

"Yes, Martin."

I gave her the tiniest hint of a smile. "Can I speak now?"

"Of course, Martin."

"This is your home and will always be your home. What that nitwit Mrs. Tishell did doesn't change anything. Don't let her horrid psychosis ruin the precious woman that you are."

Holding her shoulders, I turned her body until her back was pressed against my chest. I let my chin rest on her shoulder and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek.

"That's lovely, Martin. Really it is. But sometimes you have to leave your home. Like the bird leaving the nest." She sniffed back a few tears. "Besides," she added with a forced laugh, "you hate it here."

"No I don't," I replied automatically.

"You said so at the castle."

"I didn't mean it, exactly."

She twisted around to face me. "Then what did you mean?"

"I meant that I would go where I need to go and do what I need to do, as long as I can be with you and James Henry."

She pushed away from me and walked over to the baby, gently stroking his head. "And James Henry and I will go wherever you need to go. We'll be all right, as long as we're a family."

I reached out and took her head in my hands, staring into her gorgeous eyes. "I do love you." Our lips touched and, when we finally parted, I looked over to find James Henry staring at us with what I would have sworn was an expression of bemusement.

"So where shall we go?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Let's leave it to Chris Parsons."

"Really?"

"Why not? He needs something to do while he's recovering. Let him find me a practice."

She gave me an odd look. "You're willing to go wherever he sends us?"

"Well, we'd have to agree, of course."

"So we'll stay in Cornwall then?"

I shrugged. "I'd imagine so. I'm quite sure he'll try to keep me in the PCT."

"That's not so bad is it?"

"I suppose not."

"What if he thinks we should stay here . . . in Portwenn?"

"Then it's up to you."

"You really mean that?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes." I could do it. I would do it. I'd lived and worked in Portwenn for several years now; I suppose I could do it for the . . . for the rest of my life, God help me.

"And if he thinks . . . if we want to move on? Start over somewhere else. Would that be alright?"

"If that's what you want . . ." While daunting, a change of scenery might be exactly what we needed, both of us. And I could start over. It would be difficult but I could do it. And, this time Louisa would be by my side. A new village, new surgery, new patients, new school, new home . . . it might not be so bad.

"It also has to be what you want, Martin."

"I'll be alright." Or so I hoped. I was sure I wanted to be with Louisa and James Henry and could only hope that somehow everything else would work itself out. It had all seemed so simple at the castle; now that I had to make all of my promises a reality, the world suddenly had become much more complex. Still, this time Louisa would be by my side – we'd make the next decisions together.

"We'll be alright," I added, with a bit more confidence that I felt.

Louisa crossed the room and slipped her hand into mine. "You know what?"

I frowned wondering what I'd said wrong now. "What?"

Her eyes smiled. "I think this is the longest conversation we've ever had without arguing with each other."

"Yes, probably."

Her hand squeezed mine. "It's nice, very nice, Martin."

I almost laughed at that. Almost.

~ The End ~

Author's Notes:

I want to thank all of you who have taken the time and effort to comment on my little tale. Feedback is the one reward fanfic writers receive, and your encouragement and kind words mean more to me than you realize.

A final thanks to my beta jd517. A great beta not only corrects your grammar and typos but pushes you to improve your story and, in the process, hopefully become a better writer. She has done that and more!