Make time for friends. Make time for Debbie Macomber.

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BLOSSOM STREET

The Shop on Blossom Street

A Good Yarn

Susannah’s Garden

(previously published as Old Boyfriends)

Back on Blossom Street

(previously published as Wednesdays at Four)

Twenty Wishes

Summer on Blossom Street

Hannah’s List

A Turn in the Road

Thursdays at Eight

Christmas in Seattle

Falling for Christmas

A Mother’s Gift

Angels at Christmas

A Mother’s Wish

The Manning Sisters

The Manning Brides

The Manning Grooms

Praise for New York Times bestselling author

Debbie Macomber

‘Debbie Macomber is a skilled storyteller and a sure-buy with readers.’

Publishers Weekly

‘Just what the doctor ordered for that feel-good factor’

Sunday Express on Hannah’s List

‘A charming and touching tale of love, loss and friendship’

Closer magazine on Hannah’s List

‘Another touching read from Macomber.’

OK! magazine on Susannah’s Garden

‘An emotional, heart-warming and highly enjoyable read’

Closer magazine on Thursdays at Eight

‘She’s sold seventy million books and this is another heart-tugger’

Evening Telegraph on A Turn in the Road

‘Debbie Macomber’s books have such a lovely feel-good factor to them’

Lovereading

Summer in Orchard Valley
Valerie
Stephanie
Norah
Debbie Macomber

www.mirabooks.co.uk

To Dr John T. and Kelly Dykstra—

in grateful appreciation for their continued support of the American Heart Association

Valerie

One

“Norah? Is that you?” Valerie Bloomfield’s voice rose expectantly. She’d been trying to reach her sister for the past hour with no success.

“Valerie, where are you?”

“I’m on a layover in Chicago.” She glanced around the departure lounge and surveyed the other passengers. “How’s Dad?”

Norah hesitated, and that slight pause sent Valerie’s worry escalating into panic. “Norah …” she began.

“He’s doing as well as can be expected.”

“Did you tell him I’m on my way?” Valerie had been in the middle of a business meeting in New York when she received the message. Her youngest sister had called the Houston office, and they’d passed on the news of her father’s heart attack. Valerie had left immediately, catching the first available flight. Unfortunately that meant going to Oregon via Chicago.

“Dad knows you’re coming.”

“Were you able to get hold of Steff?”

Norah’s sigh signaled her frustration. “Yes, but it took forever and my Italian is nonexistent. She’s planning to catch whatever she can out of Rome, but she has to get there first—she’s in some little village right now. It might take her a couple of days. The connection was bad and I couldn’t understand everything she said. Apparently there’s some sort of transportation strike. But she’s doing her best….”

Valerie’s sympathies went out to Stephanie, the middle Bloomfield sister. She must be frantic, stuck halfway across the world and desperate to find a way home.

“When will you get here?” Norah asked anxiously.

“The plane’s scheduled to land at six-ten.”

“Do you want me to meet you? I could—”

“No,” Valerie interrupted. She didn’t think it was a good idea for Norah to leave their father. “I’ve already ordered a car. It shouldn’t take me more than forty minutes once I land, so don’t worry about me.”

“But the hospital’s an hour’s drive from the airport. You shouldn’t even try to make it in less.”

It generally did take an hour, but Valerie had every intention of getting there a lot sooner. “I should be at the hospital somewhere around seven,” she said evasively.

“I’ll see you then.” Norah sounded resigned.

“Don’t worry, kid, everything’s going to be all right.”

“Just be careful, will you?” Norah pleaded. “You being in an accident won’t help Dad any.”

“I’ll be careful,” Valerie promised, smiling at her sister’s words. Trust Norah to take the practical approach. After a brief farewell, Valerie closed her cell phone and slipped it into her purse.

Half an hour later, she boarded her plane. She’d only brought a carry-on bag, unwilling to waste precious time waiting for luggage to be unloaded. Shutting her eyes, she leaned back in her seat as the plane taxied down the runway.

Her father was dying. Her dear father … His hold on life was precarious, and the burning need to get to him as quickly as possible drove her like nothing she’d ever experienced.

She was exhausted but sleep was out of the question. Valerie bent down for her purse, rummaging through it until she found the antacid tablets. She popped one in her mouth and chewed it with a vengeance.

No sooner had she swallowed the chalky tablet than she reached for a roll of the hard candies she always had with her. Four years earlier she’d quit smoking, and sucking on hard candy had helped her through the worst of the nicotine withdrawal. If she’d ever needed a cigarette, it was now. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point.

Please, she prayed, not her father, too. Valerie was only beginning to come to grips with her mother’s death. Grace Bloomfield had died of cancer almost four years ago, and the grief had shaken Valerie’s well-ordered life. She’d buried her anguish in work; the biggest strides in her career with CHIPS, a Texas-based computer software company, had come in the past few years. She’d quickly climbed up the corporate ladder, until she was the youngest executive on the management team.

Her father had reacted similarly to Grace’s death. Working too many hours, driving himself too hard. Norah had tried to tell her, but Valerie hadn’t paid attention. She should’ve done something, anything, to get their father to slow down, to relax and enjoy life. He should have retired years before; he could be traveling, seeing exotic places, meeting with old friends and making new ones. In the years since her mother’s death, Valerie had convinced her father to leave Orchard Valley only once and that had been a two-week trip to Italy to visit Steffie.

And now he was fighting for his life in a hospital.

Valerie hadn’t said anything to him because … well, because they were so much alike. David Bloomfield was working out his grief the same way she was. Valerie couldn’t very well criticize him for something she was doing herself.

Before she knew it, she’d chomped her way through two rolls of candy and another of antacid tablets.

When the plane landed, Valerie was the first one off, scurrying with her bag down the concourse to the rental car agency. Within fifteen minutes, she was on the freeway heading east toward Orchard Valley.

Heading toward home.

Norah was right; it took Valerie longer than forty minutes to reach Orchard Valley Hospital. She got there in forty-five. She took the first available parking space, unconcerned about whether the rental car would be towed. What did concern her was seeing her father.

Norah was standing in the hospital lobby when Valerie walked through the double glass doors. Her sister, looking drawn and pale, was visibly relieved by her presence. “Oh, Valerie,” she said, covering her mouth with one hand. “Oh, Valerie. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Dad?” Valerie’s throat closed up. If her cantankerous father had had the audacity to die before she arrived, she’d never forgive him. The thought made her realize how much this ordeal had drained her.

“He’s resting comfortably … for now.”

Valerie hugged her sister. Norah looked dreadful, her stylish shoulder-length blond hair brushed away from her face as if her hands had swept it behind her ears countless times. Her blue eyes, normally so clear and bright, were red-rimmed from tears and lack of sleep.

Valerie hadn’t had much rest herself, but she was still running on adrenaline. She wouldn’t collapse until after she’d had a chance to see her father.

“What exactly happened?” she asked as they hurried to the elevator. Their shoes made a sharp, clicking sound against the polished linoleum floor, a sound that reminded Valerie of similar visits a few years ago, when her mother was dying. She remembered similar nighttime walks down these silent corridors. She hadn’t been to this hospital since. The memories overwhelmed her now, tearing at the facade of her poise.

“After dinner last night, Dad went out onto the porch,” Norah began, her voice quavering.

As far back as Valerie could remember, after the evening meal her parents had adjourned for coffee to the sweeping front porch of their large colonial home. They’d sat together on the old wicker chairs, sometimes holding hands and whispering like teenagers. Valerie was never sure what they discussed, but she’d learned early on not to interrupt them. In the winters, they’d sat in front of the basalt fireplace in her father’s den, but during spring, summer and the early part of autumn, it was the porch.

“I should’ve known something was wrong,” Norah continued. “Dad hasn’t sat on the porch much since Mom’s been gone. After dinner he goes right into his office and does his bookkeeping.”

The guilt Valerie experienced was crushing. Norah had repeatedly told her how hard their father was working. She should have listened, should have demanded he hire an assistant, take a vacation, something. As the oldest, she felt responsible.

His heart was weak and had been since a bout of rheumatic fever in his thirties. By all accounts he should’ve died then, but a young nurse’s devotion had pulled him through. The nurse was Grace Johnson, who became David’s wife, and Valerie, Stephanie and Norah’s mother.

“I brought him a cup of coffee,” Norah went on, “and he looked up at me and smiled. He … he seemed to think I was Mom.”

“Was he in terrible pain?”

Norah bit her lower lip. “Yes, he must have been. He was so pale … Only he was too proud to admit it. I asked him what was wrong, but he wouldn’t answer. He just kept saying he was ready.”

“Ready for what?”

Norah glanced away. “Ready to die.”

“Die!” Valerie cried. “That’s ridiculous! If there was ever a man who had something to live for, it’s Dad. Good grief, he’s worked hard all his life! Now, it’s time to reap the fruits of his labors, to enjoy his family, to travel, to—”

“You don’t need to convince me,” Norah said quietly as they reached the third floor and stepped out of the elevator. The Coronary Care nurses’ station was directly in front of them. Norah walked to the counter.

“Betty, would you tell Dr. Winston my sister’s arrived?”

“Right away,” the other woman replied. She appeared to be gentle, compassionate—and practical. No-nonsense. Valerie recognized those traits because Betty shared them with Norah. And with their mother.

Valerie had to suppress a sudden smile at the memory of her youngest sister lining up dolls in her bed and sticking thermometers in their mouths. She’d fussed over them like an anxious mother, bandaging their limbs and offering comfort and reassurance.

Norah came by this temperament naturally, Valerie supposed, since their mother had been the same. Although she’d given up her hospital job when she married David Bloomfield, Grace continued to nurture those around her. It had been her gift. It was Norah’s gift, too.

“Who’s Dr. Winston?” Valerie asked. She’d never heard of him before; he must be a recent addition to the hospital staff. But the last thing their father needed at a time like this was some hayseed family practitioner. He should be in a major hospital with the best heart surgeon available!

“Dr. Winston’s been wonderful,” Norah returned, her eyes lighting up briefly. “If it hadn’t been for Colby, we would’ve lost Dad in the first twelve hours.”

“Colby?” The doctor was named after a cheese? This didn’t sound promising.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done without him,” Norah said. “I wasn’t sure what to do at first. I could tell Dad was in a lot of pain, but I knew he’d object if I called for an aid car. He’d argue with me and that would’ve made matters even worse if it was his heart like I suspected.”

“So you phoned Dr. Winston?”

“Yes. Luckily I was able to get hold of him, and he drove out, pretending to drop in out of the blue. He knew the minute he saw Dad that it was a heart attack. He immediately gave him a couple of aspirin. Then he sat down on the porch and had a cup of coffee with him.”

“He drank coffee while our father was having a heart attack?” Valerie wasn’t finding this doctor too impressive.

“I believe it was what saved Dad’s life,” Norah said, her eyes flashing a protest. “Dr. Winston convinced Dad to go to the hospital voluntarily. It wasn’t until he’d been admitted that he suffered the worst of the attack. If he’d been at home arguing, no one could’ve done anything to save him.”

“Oh.” That took some of the heat out of Valerie’s argument. She suspected she was looking for someone to blame—in an attempt to ease her own guilt for having ignored Norah’s concerns about their father.

The door Betty had walked through opened, and a tall dark-haired man came toward them, his expression serious. Valerie couldn’t help noticing how attractive he was. In fact, the man had movie-star good looks, but good looks with nothing soft or insipid about them.

“Hello,” he said, his voice deep and resonant. “I’m Dr. Winston.” He held out his hand.

“Valerie Bloomfield,” she responded briskly, placing her hand in his. She’d always been taught that it was impolite to stare, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her father’s physician didn’t look much older than her own thirty-one years. “Excuse me,” she said, not glancing at Norah, who would, she suspected, immediately leap to Dr. Winston’s defense. “I don’t mean to be rude—but how old are you?”

“Valerie,” Norah groaned under her breath.

“I just want to know how long he’s been practicing medicine. Good grief, Norah, this is our father.”

“It’s quite all right,” Dr. Winston said, smiling at Norah. “If David was my father I’d have a few questions myself. I’m thirty-six.”

Valerie found it hard to believe, but she couldn’t very well insist on seeing his birth certificate. Besides, her thoughts were muddled and she was exhausted. Now wasn’t the time to question his qualifications. “How’s my father?” she asked instead.

“He’s resting.”

“When will I be able to see him?”

“I’d rather you didn’t go in right away.”

“What do you mean?” Valerie snapped. “I’ve flown across the country to be with my father. He needs me! Why shouldn’t I be able to go to him?”

“It’s not a good idea just now. He’s sleeping for the first time in nearly twenty hours and I don’t want anything to disturb him.”

“I think you should wait,” Norah seconded, as if she feared Valerie might be on the verge of making a scene.

Valerie sighed; her sister was right. “Of course I’ll wait. It’s just that I’m anxious.”

“I understand,” Dr. Winston said. But he spoke without emotion. He led them to a room not far from the nurses’ station. Two well-worn couches faced each other, and several outdated magazines littered the coffee table that stood between them. There was a coffeepot in one corner, with powdered creamer and an ample supply of disposable cups.

Norah sat first, raising both hands to her mouth in an effort to hide a yawn.

“How long have you been here?” Valerie asked, realizing even before she asked that Norah had stayed at the hospital all night. Her youngest sister was exhausted. “Listen, kid, you go on home and get some sleep. I’ll hold down the fort for a while.”

Norah grinned sheepishly. “I used to hate it when you called me kid, but I don’t anymore.”

“Why not?” Valerie asked softly, resisting the urge to brush a stray curl from her sister’s forehead. She wasn’t the maternal type, but she felt protective toward Norah, wanting to ease her burden.

“You can call me kid anytime you like because that’s exactly the way I feel, like a child whose world’s been turned upside down. I’m scared, Val, really scared. We almost lost him—we still could.”

Valerie nodded, hugging her briefly. Norah had suffered through the worst of the nightmare alone, not knowing from one minute to the next if their father was going to live or die.

“Valerie’s right,” Dr. Winston added. “There’s nothing you can do here. Go home and rest. I promise I’ll call you if there’s any change.”

“Okay.” Norah rubbed her eyes. “I’ll take a shower and try to sleep for a couple of hours. That’s all I need. Two, maybe three hours.”

Valerie wondered if Norah was too tired to drive; Dr. Winston must have had the same concern.

“We’ll phone for a cab from the nurses’ station. I don’t want you driving like this.” He placed his arm around Norah’s shoulders, apparently intending to walk her to the elevator. As they left, he turned to Valerie. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

While he was away, Valerie poured herself a cup of coffee. The pot had obviously been sitting there for hours; the coffee was black and thick and strong, just the way she needed it.

The urge for a cigarette was nearly overwhelming, so when Dr. Winston returned to the room she looked up at him and automatically asked, “Do you have any hard candy?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Mints, anything like that.” She was pacing the room, holding her coffee cup in both hands.

“I’m afraid not. Would you like me to see if I could get you some?”

Valerie dismissed his offer with a shake of her head. He was polite to a fault. The first thing she’d done had been to insult him, question his competence, and he’d taken it all in stride.

“Please, tell me about my father.”

They sat, and for the next fifteen minutes, Dr. Winston explained what had happened to her father’s heart. He did his best to describe it in layman’s terms, but much of what he said was beyond Valerie’s comprehension. She’d never been comfortable with medical matters. Her mother and Norah had always dealt with those. For her part, Valerie hated anything to do with hospitals or doctors. She detested being sick herself, and knew her father felt the same way.

“There’s one underlying problem that needs to be dealt with, however.”

“Yes?” Valerie asked, hating the way her voice betrayed her fear. Any show of weakness distressed her. If she’d ever needed to be strong, it was now, for everyone’s sake, including her own. She was the oldest, and the others would rely on her.

“Your father’s lost his will to live.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said, battling the urge to argue with him. “My father’s life is brimming over, it’s so full. Why, he’s—”

“Lost without your mother,” Dr. Winston finished simply.

Valerie bolted to her feet and resumed pacing. What Dr. Winston said was absolutely true; she had to admit it. Her father had been crushed under the load of grief, and while Valerie and her two sisters struggled to regain their own balance, their father had been slowly destroyed by his loss.

“What can we do?” she asked, trying to swallow her fears and her guilt.

“Support him, give him your love. The only thing keeping him alive now is his desire to see all three of his daughters before he dies.”

“But … Okay, then don’t let him know I’m here.” It was the obvious solution. And if that was what it took to keep him alive, she was willing to play a little game of hide-and-seek. Norah could make up a series of excuses. No, forget Norah, Valerie mused bleakly. Her youngest sister couldn’t tell a lie without blushing.

“How well do you lie?” she asked, thinking fast.

Dr. Winston blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“We can’t let my father know I’ve arrived. And that means lying to him.”

“Miss Bloomfield—”

“Ms.”

“Whatever,” he said, sounding impatient with her for the first time. “We aren’t going to be able to fool your father. Norah talked to him shortly after you phoned from … where was it? Chicago? He knows you caught a flight out of New York. No one’s going to make him believe something more important came up that’s kept you from him.”

“Steffie!” Valerie cried. “When Norah spoke to her, she said there was a transportation strike.”

“Yes, but these are only stop-gap measures. Your father feels there’s nothing left to live for. He talks about your mother constantly, almost as though he’s waiting to join her. We need something concrete that’ll give him the will to fight, to hold on to life.”

Again Valerie knew the doctor was right, but her confused brain was having trouble assimilating the most basic details, let alone a situation as complex as this.

“He’s all we have,” she whispered despondently. “Surely he realizes that.”

“Yes, but at the same time, he believes you have one another.”

“We have nothing in common,” Valerie told him. “Steffie’s a crazy woman who flies off to Europe to study the Italian Renaissance, and Norah’s main goal in life is to become another Clara Barton. We don’t even look alike.” Valerie was grasping at weak excuses, and she knew it. Anything she could think of to enlist Dr. Winston’s help in keeping her father alive.

“That has nothing to do with me, Valerie,” he told her gently. “However, I’ll do everything I can to see that your father regains his health and lives to a ripe old age.”

Blinking away tears, Valerie nodded, reminding herself once again that she was the oldest of David Bloomfield’s daughters. In a crisis everyone looked to her; she was the one who needed a cool, decisive head, who couldn’t let her emotions dictate her reactions.

But it was different this time.

The man in that hospital bed, barely holding on to life, was her father, the man she idolized and loved beyond reason. Her emotions were so close to the surface that the force of them frightened her.

“I’d—I’d like to see him as soon as possible. Please.” She’d grovel if necessary. She had to be with her father. “I won’t make the least bit of noise, I promise.” She certainly didn’t want to disturb his rest. Somehow, though, she had to reassure herself that he was still alive. She’d never been more frightened.

Dr. Winston hesitated. “Wait here, I’ll go and check on him.”

He returned a few minutes later. “David’s awake and asking for you.”

Valerie was so eager that she nearly vaulted out of the room, but Dr. Winston stopped her. “Before you go to your father, let me prepare you for what you’re going to see.” He spent the next five minutes explaining the different medical devices used to monitor his patient’s heart. He explained how the small electrodes on her father’s chest detected the electrical impulses that signal the heart’s activity. He warned her about the tubes going in and out of his body.

But nothing he said could have prepared Valerie for what she saw. Her father was connected to a frightening number of tubes, machines and devices. His face was ashen, so pale and bloodless that his skin seemed iridescent. His eyes, which had always sparked with vitality, revealed no emotion, only a weariness that was soul-deep.

“Oh, Daddy,” Valerie whispered, fighting tears. She locked her fingers around his hand, careful not to disturb the intravenous needle.

“Valerie … so pleased you’re here … at last.”

“Where else would I be?” she asked, managing a smile. With the back of her other hand, she brushed a tear from her cheek.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” her father said, apparently talking to Dr. Winston, who hovered in the doorway. “Only … what did you do to your hair?”

“Do you like it?” Valerie asked, rallying somewhat, surprised he’d even noticed that she’d changed the style. “I had it cut.” The new look was short and tousled.

“She’s got the temper to go with that red hair, you know.”

Her father was speaking to Colby Winston again.

“My hair isn’t even close to being red,” she argued, annoyed by the doctor’s effort not to grin. “It’s auburn.”

“Looks like you haven’t combed it in a month,” her father mumbled.

“Dad, I’ll have you know I paid good money for this.”

“In that case, you should demand a refund.” His voice was weak, and speaking had clearly depleted him of what little energy he possessed.

“Dad,” Valerie said, trying to disguise her concern. “Instead of complaining about my hair, you should rest.”

He didn’t respond, merely closed his eyes and sighed audibly.

“I’m going to leave you for a little while,” Valerie said. “But I’ll be right outside, so if you want to tell me how much you like my hair and beg my forgiveness, then all you need to do is ring for the nurse.” Dr. Winston had told her earlier that she’d be allowed to visit her father five minutes out of every hour, depending on how well he was doing.

David’s smile was barely discernible.

“Rest now, Daddy. I’m here.”

Dr. Winston’s hand was at her elbow directing her out of the glass-enclosed cubicle.

“Doc?” Her father’s voice had a sense of urgency.

“What is it, David?”

“She’s the one I was telling you about. You remember what I said, don’t you?”

“Yes. Now don’t you worry about a thing.”

“Her hair doesn’t usually look like a rag doll’s.”

“Daddy!” Valerie had no idea what was taking place between the two men but she wasn’t going to stand idly by and let them insult her.

“This way,” Colby Winston said, leading her from the Coronary Care Unit.

“What was that all about?” Valerie asked the instant they were out of earshot.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he said without meeting her eyes.

Valerie wasn’t fooled. There was definitely something going on, and she wanted to know what. She’d been in business far too long to allow questionable remarks to slip past her unchallenged.

“What did Dad mean, I’m ‘the one’?”

Dr. Winston still refused to look at her. “While we—your father and I—were talking earlier, he voiced a few concerns about his daughters.”

“Yes?” Valerie said. Making an effort to appear nonchalant and relaxed, she walked over to the coffeepot and lifted it to him in silent invitation.

Dr. Winston shook his head and Valerie refilled her own paper cup. “So, what did Dad have to say about us girls?” she asked.

“He’s very proud of all three of you.”

“Naturally. We’re his children. What I’d like to know is what he meant when he said I was ‘the one.’”

“Yes, well.” He walked away from her and stood gazing out the window into the night sky.

“Come on, Dr. Winston, I’m a mature woman and this is my father. I’m sure if I insisted he’d tell me.” They both knew that coercing her father was out of the question; nevertheless, it was an effective ploy. Dr. Winston went to the coffeepot and filled a cup, even though he’d declined one moments earlier.

“It seems he’s the most worried about you.”

“Me?” Valerie blurted. Of the three girls, she was the most financially secure. She was established in an excellent career and living on her own. For heaven’s sake, she was the only one with investments! “That makes no sense at all.”

“Yes, well.”

“Why is he worried about me? Furthermore, why didn’t he talk to me instead of discussing it with you?”

“There are any number of reasons—”

“Just tell me what he said,” Valerie interrupted impatiently.

“Your father seems to think—”

“Yes?” she prompted.

“That you should be married.”

Valerie couldn’t restrain her laughter. It shot out of her, like bubbles from a champagne bottle.

“In fact,” Colby continued grimly, “your father seems to think you should be married to me.”

Two

“Married to you?” Valerie echoed, her laughter fading. Dr. Colby Winston! She’d never heard anything so preposterous. She had no intention of marrying anyone within the foreseeable future. There was simply no room for a man in her life. She wasn’t a romantic; even when she was younger and in college, she hadn’t dated much. Her father knew all that, and he’d never seemed particularly worried about it. This latest revelation shocked her nearly as much as Norah’s call.

“I see no reason to be too concerned,” Colby said, his voice compassionate as though he understood that his announcement had unsettled her. She was usually more proficient at controlling her emotions.

“This sort of delusion isn’t unheard of in heart patients,” he went on. “As I said, I certainly don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“You mean your patients generally try to marry you off?”

“No.” He smoothed his tie as if he needed something to do. “Your father fully expects to die. It’s what he wants, but he’d feel better about leaving the three of you behind if at least one of you was married. Your father and I are friends, and I guess it’s only natural that he’d attempt to match me up with one of his daughters.”

“It should’ve been Norah. She seems more your type.”

His smile was fleeting. “Perhaps, but it’s your name he repeatedly mentions.”

“Then apparently I’m the one,” Valerie said, not realizing what she was saying until the words had left her mouth. “I mean—” She stopped abruptly.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Colby assured her. “But I’m sure we don’t have to take any of this seriously.”

“Oh, I agree. That would be foolish in the extreme.”

“Maybe your father feels you should marry first because you’re the oldest,” Colby ventured.

“Maybe,” Valerie agreed. But something inside her suggested that wasn’t the sole reason. She tucked her arms around her waist and inhaled deeply, hoping to breathe in a bit of calm and sense.

“I wouldn’t have said anything,” Colby said, “but I thought it was best to air this. If he mentions marriage again, my feeling is we should go along with him, at least for now.”

“Go along with him? You’ve got to be kidding.” Valerie could hardly believe her ears.

Colby shrugged. “You know your father better than I do,” he muttered. “He’s as stubborn as they come. Don’t lie, but if he brings up the subject of … marriage, take the route of least resistance, then try to channel the conversation in a different direction.”

“I’m not going to give my father any false hope. Or you either.” She added the last part coyly and was rewarded when she saw him swallow tightly. An angry spark momentarily leaped into his dark eyes, but was soon quelled.

Sitting down, Valerie rummaged through her purse for a roll of antacid tablets. Her stomach ached and she was weary to her very bones.

Colby ignored her, although he made no move to go. The preoccupied look on his face suggested that he had something else to say; he seemed to be searching for words.

Valerie considered what Colby had told her. If she ever decided to marry—if—she’d settle down with someone who had the same drive, the same will to succeed, as she did. A man who knew where he was going, who’d set his sights high. Not some well-meaning small-town doctor.

She’d marry a man like Rowdy Cassidy.

The name sprang into her mind with a suddenness that shocked her.

Until that moment, Valerie didn’t fully grasp how much she admired her employer. Rowdy had started his computer software business out of a friend’s garage fifteen years earlier. He’d built the company into one of the most successful in the country. Although he’d earned more money than he could possibly spend in a lifetime, he continued to work ten-and twelve-hour days, demanding as much of his staff as he did of himself.

“It might, uh, help matters if you were involved with someone,” Colby said in a casual voice. Valerie found his nonchalant tone a bit exaggerated, which for some reason made her suspect that he wasn’t “involved with someone.”

“I’m not in a relationship at the moment, but I might be soon,” she told him. Valerie and Rowdy—a couple. Odd that she’d never thought of him in romantic terms before. He’d be the perfect husband for her. She liked him and respected him, as a man and a professional. Rowdy had hand-picked her for his management team because he believed in her abilities.

In retrospect, she realized Rowdy had sought out her company on several occasions. But she’d been so absorbed in proving herself worthy of his faith that she hadn’t guessed he might have any personal feelings for her.

For months she’d been blind to what was right in front of her. Not that she was entirely to blame, though. Rowdy wasn’t exactly a heartthrob kind of guy. Oh, he was handsome enough, with his rugged cowboy looks, but his brusque, outspoken manner didn’t encourage romantic aspirations. As far as she knew, he’d never dated anyone seriously, at least not in the years she’d worked for him.

For that matter, Valerie wasn’t any expert on falling in love, either. She’d dismissed the possibility of romance in her own life; it was fine for her sisters and schoolfriends, but not for her. There’d always been too much she wanted to do, too much to strive for. Too much to achieve before settling down in a permanent relationship.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Colby said, breaking into her thoughts. At her blank look, he elaborated. “You said you weren’t involved with someone yet, but you will be soon. I may be overstepping my bounds here, but I wouldn’t advise you to invent a phony relationship. Your father would see through that in a minute.”

“I agree. I wouldn’t even attempt anything so foolish. But there’s a man I work with, and, well, it seems natural for the two of us to … get involved.”

Dr. Winston looked so relieved that she might’ve been offended if she hadn’t been warmed by the newly risen hope of a romance with Rowdy Cassidy.

“I’ve given your father something to help him rest,” Colby went on. “He should sleep through the night without a problem, so if you want to drive home and join your sister—”

“No,” Valerie interrupted quickly. “I won’t leave Dad. I understand that I can’t see him yet, but I want to be here … in case anything happens. It’s important to me.”

“That’s fine.”

Valerie was grateful. “Thank you.”

He nodded, then yawned, revealing for the first time his own fatigue. “I’ve left orders that I’m to be contacted the minute there’s any change in his condition.”

“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”

“No thanks necessary. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

Valerie smiled and sat down to leaf through a six-month-old news magazine. She’d just finished reading the letters to the editor when the nurse appeared, carrying a pillow and a blanket.

“Dr. Winston thought you might need these,” she said, setting the bundle down next to Valerie.

It was a thoughtful thing to do, she mused later as she rested her head against the pillow and tucked the thin blanket around her shoulders. She felt a twinge of guilt, especially since she’d already decided to call in the country’s top heart surgeon first thing in the morning.

By noon, it was unlikely that her father would still be a patient of Dr. Colby Winston’s.

He liked her, Colby realized. He’d been prepared not to. Valerie Bloomfield was everything her father had claimed. Professional, astute and lovely. But when it came to relationships, she was precisely the type of woman Colby made a point of avoiding.

He liked his women soft and feminine. He was looking for a wife, and David Bloomfield had somehow intuited that, or he wouldn’t have dragged his eldest daughter into almost every conversation. But Colby didn’t have a business executive in mind. He needed a helpmate, a woman who understood the never-ending demands of a doctor’s work. A woman who’d understand the long hours, the emotional stress, the intrusions into his private life.

What he didn’t need was a career-obsessed executive. Perhaps he was outdated in his thinking. He certainly acknowledged that a woman had every right to pursue her own profession, to choose her own calling in life, but Colby was looking for a woman who’d make that calling him. Well, not just him but them—their marriage, their family, their home.

He had to admit it sounded selfish and egocentric to expect his wife to wrap her life around his. Nevertheless that was exactly what he wanted.

His own career was all-consuming; there weren’t enough hours in the day to do everything that needed to be done. When he got home at night he wanted someone there to greet him, to offer comfort, serenity.

Sherry Waterman fit the bill perfectly. They’d been dating off and on for almost a year. Lately, it seemed, more off than on. Colby wasn’t sure why he’d allowed his relationship with Sherry to taper off. He hadn’t talked to her in nearly two weeks now—maybe longer. But he knew she’d be an ideal wife for him, and for that matter so would Norah Bloomfield. Yet he couldn’t picture spending the rest of his life with either of them.

If he was going to analyze his lack of interest in both Sherry and Norah, then he might as well examine what he found so attractive about Valerie. Not the briefcase she carried with her like a second purse. Certainly not the way she popped antacid tablets, or the way she dressed in a sexless gray suit that disguised every feminine curve of her slender frame.

What appealed to him most was the contrast he sensed in her. Outwardly she appeared calm and collected, asking intelligent questions with the composure of someone inquiring about commonplace statistics instead of her father’s chances of survival.

Colby hadn’t been fooled. He noted how she gnawed on her lower lip even while her gaze steadily met his. Valerie had been badly shaken by her father’s ordeal. There were depths of emotion in this woman, a real capacity for feeling that was—or so he guessed—usually kept hidden.

He also noticed the love in her eyes when he took her to see her father. He’d watched her struggle to keep her emotions at bay. Her fingers had trembled when they reached for her father’s hand and her face had grown gentle. There was a strong bond between those two.

It hadn’t been necessary to repeat David’s comment about their marrying, and Colby wasn’t sure why he had.

He suspected he’d been hoping to discover if she was involved with someone. Knowing that she was, or rather that she was about to be, should have reassured him. But it hadn’t. If anything, he was more curious than ever.

Norah’s arrival stirred Valerie into wakefulness early the following morning. She hadn’t slept much, too exhausted and keyed up to let herself relax. Toward dawn she’d drifted into an uneasy slumber.

“How’s Dad?” Norah asked, handing Valerie a white sack that contained breakfast.

“The same. I haven’t been in to see him, but I’ve talked to the CCU staff several times.” She’d paced the hospital corridor most of the night and as a result had received intermittent reports.

“He’s been like this from the first, as though he’s balancing on the edge of a cliff. He could fall either way.”

“He’ll live,” Valerie said fervently, as if her determination would be enough to keep him alive.

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am,” Valerie returned, forcing her voice to remain confident.

“Oh, before I forget,” Norah said, sitting opposite Valerie, “there were two messages on the answering machine when I got home last night. The first was from Mr. Cassidy at CHIPS. He’s your boss, isn’t he?”

Valerie nodded, opening the bag her sister had brought. She removed a warm croissant and a cup of fresh coffee. The last time she could remember eating had been at O’Hare, and although her pizza had looked decent, she’d been too upset to feel very hungry.

“What’d Rowdy have to say?”

“Just that he’d heard about Dad’s heart attack. He asked if there was anything he could do.”

Valerie smiled to herself, pleased that Rowdy had taken a few minutes out of his busy schedule to call. It seemed to confirm her thoughts of the night before; she was increasingly convinced that his interest in her was more than business.

“Who else phoned?” she asked, purposely turning her mind from Rowdy. There’d be plenty of time later to mull over her recent revelation.

“Steff.”

“How’s she doing?” Valerie asked before biting into the flaky croissant.

“Not very well, I’m afraid.” Norah’s shoulders slumped forward slightly. “She sounded desperate.”

“I take it she hasn’t left Italy yet?”

“She can’t. Apparently the whole country’s at a standstill. Like I told you, she’s trapped in this tiny village a hundred miles outside Rome. She’d gone there to spend a few days with a friend’s family.”

“Why doesn’t she rent a car?”

“Seems everyone else thought of the same thing. There’s not a car to be had.”

“What about her friends?”

“From what I understand, the people she’s with don’t have a car. She and her friend got a ride there from someone else, and everyone she knows is away on spring break. She’s very upset. I called her back, but she was out, so I left a message.” Norah shook her head in frustration.

“What did you tell her?”

“That you’d arrived. That I’m on leave from my job as long as necessary. And … that Dad’s condition is stable.” It was a small lie, but necessary, Valerie agreed, for their sister’s peace of mind.

“I’ll try to give her a call later,” Valerie said, sipping the rapidly cooling coffee. She glanced at her watch and calculated the time difference between Oregon and Texas. If she phoned now she might be able to catch Rowdy. If he was in the office, she’d ask him to locate the best heart surgeon in the state. No, on the West Coast.

She knew there were restrictions against using cell phones in hospitals, so she lined up at the pay phone, which didn’t afford her much privacy. But that couldn’t be helped. To her relief, she was immediately connected with her boss.

“Valerie,” he said, his big voice booming over the wire. “Good to hear from you. How’s your father?”

“We don’t know yet. It could go either way.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Rowdy sounded genuinely concerned and again her heart warmed toward him. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

“There is,” Valerie said, lowering her voice in an effort not to be overheard. She looked around to make sure no staff members were within earshot. “I need the name and phone number of the best heart surgeon on the West Coast. Dad’s too ill to be transferred to another hospital just yet, but the one here in Orchard Valley is small. I can’t be sure he’s getting the best possible care. I want to make other arrangements as soon as I can.”

“Of course, I’ll get right on it.”

Not for the first time, Valerie felt a twinge of conscience. Colby Winston obviously cared about her father. If she hurt his professional pride by going behind his back, then she’d apologize. For now, though, her primary concern had to be her father, and if that meant offending a family friend, well, too bad. It couldn’t be avoided.

“How can I reach you at the hospital?” Rowdy asked.

“It’s easier if I call you back. In an hour or so?”

“Sure thing.”

“I really appreciate this,” Valerie told him.

A few minutes later, she strolled into the waiting room, where she’d left Norah. Colby had joined her and it struck Valerie a second time how perfect Norah would be for him.

Valerie should’ve been pleased by the idea. Excited, too. But she wasn’t and she didn’t know why.

Norah smiled at something Colby was saying, and Valerie realized with a small pang that her youngest sister was half in love with him already. If she could see it, then surely her father had, too. He was probably confusing the two of them in his mind, Valerie reasoned, which was certainly understandable under the circumstances.

“Dad’s doing about the same,” Norah said when she became aware that Valerie had entered the room. “Colby was just in to see him.”

“Good morning,” he greeted her, smiling briefly.

“Morning.” Feeling guilty, she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“You can take turns visiting your father if you’d like, but you can only stay five minutes, and I’d prefer that you waited an hour between visits.”

“Fine,” Valerie murmured. “Since I was with him last night, do you want to go first?” she asked Norah.

“All right.”

Valerie assumed that Dr. Winston would go with her sister, but he stayed behind, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot. His back was to Valerie.

“Your father’s going to require open-heart surgery,” he said once he’d turned around to face her. “Right now his heart’s too weak to withstand the additional stress, but we’re fast approaching a crisis point, and you and your sisters need to prepare yourselves.”

“Here?” Valerie challenged. “And who’d perform the surgery?”

“I will—I am a qualified cardiovascular surgeon. And Orchard Valley has one of the best heart units in the state,” Colby said in a reassuring voice.

“I don’t want one of the best, I want the very best! This is my father we’re talking about.” Valerie knew she sounded unreasonable, even rude, but her concern about David overrode all other considerations, including her embarrassment at misjudging Dr. Winston. Why had Norah never mentioned that the man was a heart surgeon? Still, it didn’t matter; her father deserved the best-equipped facility and the best-trained specialist around. She spoke in a calmer voice. “If he needs surgery, then he’ll have it, but not here. Not when there’s a better hospital and more experienced …”

“Heart surgeons?” Colby finished for her.

She stiffened, wanting to avoid a confrontation and knowing it was impossible. “Exactly.”

“You’re welcome to a second opinion, Valerie. I’d be happy to review my credentials with you, as well.”

Her arms cradled her middle. Her breakfast seemed to lie like a deadweight in her stomach.

Colby had begun to speak again. “Norah—”

“You already mentioned the possibility of open-heart surgery to Norah?” she flared, disliking the fact that he’d talked to her sister first.

He nodded. “Just now. While you were out.”

That hurt her pride. She, after all, was the oldest, the decision maker, the strong one.

“If you’d like to talk to another specialist, I can recommend several.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Valerie returned stiffly, feeling like a traitor. “I’m having a friend get me the names of the top heart surgeons on the West Coast.”

A vacuum of silence followed her words.

“I understand.”

She glanced toward him, surprised not to hear any resentment in his voice.

“It isn’t that we don’t appreciate everything you’ve done,” she rushed to explain. “Norah’s told me several times that if it weren’t for you, we’d have lost Dad that first night. I’m grateful, more than you’ll ever know, but I want to stack the odds in Dad’s favor, and if that means bringing in another surgeon, I’ll do it.”

Her impassioned words were met with a cool but not unfriendly smile. “If David were my father I’d do the same. Don’t worry, Valerie, you haven’t offended me.”

She was so relieved that she nearly sagged onto the sofa.

“Let me know who you want to call in and I’ll be happy to confer with him.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Dad and Norah are right,” she added, almost to herself.

“About what?” Colby asked on his way out the door.

She looked up, realizing he’d heard her. “You really are wonderful.”

Their eyes met and in those few seconds an odd understanding passed between them. It wasn’t a look lovers would exchange, she thought, but one close friends would.

Norah came back from the five-minute visit with their father, pale and clearly distressed. Slowly she lowered herself onto the sofa, her hands clasped tightly together.

“Dad’s not doing well this morning?” Valerie ventured.

Norah nodded. “He’s so weak … he’s talking about dying and.” She paused, her light blue eyes glassy with tears.

“He isn’t going to die,” Valerie said vehemently, clenching her fists at her sides. She refused to let him die.

“He’d prefer if you and Steff and I were married, but that can’t be helped now, he says. He told me he’s sorry he won’t be around to enjoy his grandchildren, but—”

“Norah,” Valerie admonished briskly, “you didn’t honestly listen to that garbage, did you? We can’t allow him to talk like that.”

“He seems to think you should marry Dr. Winston.”

Valerie frowned. “So I heard. That just goes to show you how illogical he’s become. If anyone should marry Colby Winston, it’s you.”

Norah lowered her eyes and an attractive shade of pink flowed into her cheeks. “Every female employee in the hospital’s in love with Dr. Winston. Even the married women have a crush on him. He’s so strong, yet he’s gentle and caring. I—I don’t know what I would’ve done the last couple of days without Colby.”

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Valerie asked, fighting down an unexpected sense of disappointment.

“I’m not in love with him—not exactly. I admire him the way everyone else does, and if he ever asked me out, I’d accept without thinking twice, but he hasn’t.”

Valerie was sure she would. She paced the small room, wondering what had prompted this sudden need for movement—her father’s apparent death wish or Norah’s feelings for Colby Winston.

“I’ve been busy this morning myself,” she said, not looking at her sister. “I asked Rowdy Cassidy if he’d get us the name of the top heart surgeon on the West Coast. Dad has to have the finest medical—”

Norah’s head shot up. “You what?”

“Listen, if you’re concerned about offending Colby, I’ve already spoken to him and he agrees we should get a second opinion.”

“But Colby teaches at Portland University. He’s the best there is!”

“For Orchard Valley.” Of that Valerie was confident, but there was a whole world Norah knew little or nothing about. Her sister’s entire universe revolved around Orchard Valley and their five-hundred-acre apple orchard ten miles outside town.

“Colby’s one of the best cardiovascular surgeons in the state.” Norah didn’t bother to disguise her irritation. “Do you know what you’ve done?” she demanded. “You’ve just insulted one of this country’s most—”

“I didn’t insult him,” Valerie insisted, interrupting her sister’s tirade. “I made sure of that. Furthermore, you never even let me know he was a heart surgeon—I thought he was just a G.P. And even if he’s considered good here in Orchard Valley, Dad needs absolutely the best one available anywhere. Shouldn’t you be concerning yourself with his problems and not worrying about offending your doctor boyfriend?”

Norah’s eyes widened with shock and hurt. She stood and without a word walked out of the room, leaving Valerie swamped in remorse. She hadn’t meant to snap at her sister, nor had she wanted to sound so overbearing. Referring to Colby as Norah’s boyfriend had been childish and petty, which proved how badly her nerves were frayed.

An hour passed and Valerie hurried down to the lobby to call Rowdy on her cell phone.

“It’s Valerie,” she said breathlessly when he answered.

“Listen, you’re in luck. There’s an up-and-coming heart surgeon working out of Portland University. Apparently he’s developed an innovative surgical technique. I’ve talked to three of the top heart specialists in the country and they all highly recommend him.”

“Great.” She groped through her purse until she found a pen and a notebook, which she positioned against the lobby wall. “Ready.”

“His name is Dr. Colby Winston.”

Valerie dropped her arm. “Dr. Colby Winston,” she repeated.

“I’ve got his phone number here.”

“Thanks, Rowdy,” she said, pride and shame clogging her throat, “but I’ve already got it.”

She hadn’t been home for twenty-four hours and she’d already managed to alienate her sister, insult a family friend and at the same time disparage a highly regarded doctor.

“Just great, Valerie,” she muttered to herself. “Can things get any worse?”

Three

“Steffie?” David Bloomfield’s eyes fluttered open and he gazed up at Valerie.

“She’ll be here as soon as she can,” Valerie reassured him. It was now early evening, and during every previous visit that day, he’d been asleep, his heart’s activity reported on the monitor.

How weak he sounded, she thought, as though death was only hours away. Her own heart clamored with dread and fear; she wanted to shout at him to fight, to hang on.

It wasn’t that easy or straightforward—as Valerie knew. In the past two days she’d learned more about the functions of the heart than she’d ever imagined. In more ways than one … She’d learned that the symbolic heart, the center of human emotion, grew larger with the sorrows as well as the joys of love. And the physical heart was subject to its own stresses and risks.

Colby had strived to make the explanation as uncomplicated as possible. Simply put, her father was experiencing heart failure; his heart was pumping blood less efficiently than it should. The decreased strength of the muscles then resulted in distended blood vessels that leaked fluid into his lungs, which interfered with his breathing. Each hour he was growing weaker and closer to death.

“Can’t … hold out much longer.”

“Of course you can,” Valerie insisted, railing against discouragement and defeat. “You’re going to live long enough to be a problem to your children. Isn’t that what you’ve always said? You’ve still got years and years. Good years, with a houseful of grandchildren.”

Her father’s smile was fleeting. “Go home, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You haven’t even been to the house yet.”

“There’s nothing there for me without you.” She rubbed her thumb soothingly across the back of his hand, avoiding the IV needle. “Get well, Daddy, please get well. We all need you.”

His eyes drifted shut, and the oppressive need to give in to the weakness of tears nearly overcame her. She blinked furiously in an effort not to cry, succeeding despite the enormous lump in her throat.

Valerie was grateful her features were outwardly composed when Colby entered the cubicle a few minutes later. He read over the clipboard that outlined her father’s progress, then made a brief notation.

“He’ll sleep now,” he said, guiding her out of the room.

“What’s happening?” she asked once they’d left the Coronary Care Unit. “Why is he so much weaker than before? It’s like watching his life ebb away. Surely you can do something?” She heard the note of hysteria in her own voice and didn’t care. Perhaps she was being selfish in wanting him to live when he so clearly wanted to be released from life. But she loved him so desperately. She needed him, and so did Steffie and Norah.

“We’re doing everything we can,” Colby assured her.

“I know—but it’s not enough.”

“Valerie, trust me, I love that crotchety old man myself. I don’t want to lose him, either.” He led the way to the elevator. “Come on, I’ll buy you some dinner.”

When she declined, he said, “Well, at least a cup of coffee.”

She was on the verge of pointing out that there was coffee in the waiting room, then hesitated. He was right. She needed a break, even if it was only ten minutes in the hospital cafeteria.

They rode the elevator down to the basement and walked into the large, open room, which was mostly empty now. Colby reached for a serving tray and slid it along the counter, collecting a green dinner salad, a cellophane-wrapped turkey sandwich and coffee. Valerie surveyed the cottage cheese salad with the limp pineapple and instead grabbed a bottle of cranberry juice. She wasn’t at all hungry, although she’d eaten very little in the past few days.

He withdrew his wallet and paid the cashier, then carried the tray to a table at the back of the room, near the window.

He chose one far removed from any of the occupied tables, and that started Valerie’s heart pounding with a renewed sense of anxiety. Colby had brought her here to face the inevitable.

“I’m going to lose my father, aren’t I?” she asked outright, determined to confront the truth head-on.

Colby looked up, his dark eyes filled with surprise. “Not if I can help it. What makes you ask?”

She slumped against the back of the chair, so relieved that it was all she could do not to weep openly. “I thought that was why you brought me here—what you intended to tell me.” With trembling hands, she picked up the bottle of juice and removed the top.

“We aren’t going to lose him.” He spoke with such fierce conviction that she realized his will to keep her father alive was as strong as her own.

“How long have you known my dad?” she asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table.

“A few years now.”

Valerie vaguely recalled hearing Colby’s name mentioned once or twice, but she couldn’t remember when or for what reason. With her hectic work schedule she’d been home only intermittently. Her last visit had been nearly six months ago, although she phoned weekly.

“We met soon after your mother died,” Colby explained. “Your father made a generous donation to the hospital in her name.”

Valerie knew that David’s contribution had been large enough for the hospital to begin construction of a new wing. The irony of the situation struck her for the first time, and she drew in a deep, painful breath. The new wing housed the Coronary Care Unit.

“By the way,” she said, feeling obliged to apologize—or at least acknowledge his reputation. “I understand that I was, uh, mistaken earlier in what I assumed about your skills. I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry.” He shrugged. “It happens all the time. But back to your dad—he and I play chess once a week.”

“You ever beat him?”

Colby grinned. “Occasionally, but not often.”

Valerie was good at chess herself, which was hardly surprising since her father had taught her to play. One day, perhaps, when all of this was over, she’d challenge Colby to a game. Odd how easy it was to assume they’d continue to know each other…. “He’s very proud of you,” Colby said casually as he unwrapped his sandwich.

Valerie suppressed a sudden urge to giggle. “So … he mentioned me before his attack.”

“At every opportunity.” He frowned as he said it. He was, no doubt, thoroughly sick of the subject.

Valerie settled back and crossed her arms, enjoying herself. “In other words, Dad’s preoccupation with matching the two of us up isn’t something new.”

Colby paused, averting his gaze. “Let’s put it this way. He wasn’t quite as blatant about it as he’s been the past few days.”

“You must’ve been curious about me.”

“A little.”

“And?” she said. “What do you think?”

Colby lifted his shoulders, as if to say she hadn’t impressed him. Or was he saying she hadn’t disappointed him?

“That doesn’t tell me a thing,” she complained.

“You’re everything your father said and more,” he muttered, obviously hoping to satisfy her and at the same time put an end to the conversation.

Valerie knew it was sheer vanity to be so pleased. Still, although he might have intended his remark as a compliment, she didn’t read any admiration in his eyes. If Dr. Colby Winston was attracted to her, he concealed it well. She hated to admit how much that wounded her pride. The truth was, she wanted him to be fascinated with her. She wanted him to feel enthralled, enchanted, impressed—the way she was with him. Because, despite herself, and despite their awkward beginning, despite the prospect of a relationship with Rowdy Cassidy, she couldn’t get Colby out of her mind.

In a strictly objective way, Valerie knew she was slim and attractive. No matter what her father said about her hair, it was styled in an exuberant tangle of russet curls that highlighted her cheekbones and unusual gray-green eyes.

Those eyes were her greatest asset in the looks department, although her mouth tended to be expressive. Being tall, almost five eight, was a plus, too. Norah was barely five three, and the entire world seemed to tower above her sister. When Valerie wore heels, there wasn’t a man in her field she couldn’t meet at eye level, which she considered a definite advantage.

“You don’t like me, do you?” she asked bluntly.

Her question clearly took him aback, and he didn’t immediately respond. “I don’t dislike you,” he finally said.

“I make you nervous?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what is it?” she prodded. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning to fall in love with you. As I said before, there’s someone else on the horizon. I’m just … curious.”

“About what?”

“How you feel about me.”

His mouth tightened, and Valerie could tell he wasn’t accustomed to dealing with a woman as direct as she was. Most men weren’t. Valerie didn’t believe in suggestion or subtlety. The shortest distance between any two points was a straight line. She’d learned that in high-school geometry and it had worked equally well in life.

“I think you’re very good at what you do.”

He was sidestepping her question and doing a relatively competent job of it, but she wasn’t fooled. “Which is?” she pressed.

“Functioning in a male-dominated field.”

“Are you implying I’ve sacrificed my femininity?” She couldn’t help sounding a bit sarcastic.

His lips tightened again. “You’re good at putting words in someone’s mouth, too, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes,” she agreed, “but only when it suits my purposes.”

“No doubt.”

“You’re not sure how you feel about me, are you?”

“On the contrary, I knew the minute we met.”

She cocked an eyebrow, waiting for him to finish. “Well?” she asked when he didn’t supply the answer.

“You’re bright and attractive.”

“Thank you.” It wasn’t what she’d hoped to hear. He’d revealed no emotion toward her. She’d rarely met a man who was so … she searched for the right word. Staid, she decided. Stoical. He seemed to close himself up whenever he was around her, almost as though he felt he needed protection.

Valerie knew she could be overpowering and opinionated, but she wasn’t cold or hard. Just straightforward. They were alike in that way, both sensible, seasoned professionals. It was common ground between them, yet Colby seemed determined to ignore their similarities.

He’d been kind to her, she reminded herself. But she sensed that he would have behaved in the same compassionate manner regardless of who she was. Valerie understood that, even applauded it.

So why was she looking for something that wasn’t there?

She shook herself mentally. “All right, Dr. Winston,” she began in a brisk voice. “Tell me about my father.”

Norah was asleep on the sofa when Valerie returned from the cafeteria. She spread the blanket over her sister, wondering why Norah wasn’t at home. Norah stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty,” Valerie said, smiling tenderly.

“Where were you?” Norah asked, sitting up. She swept tangled hair away from her face, and Valerie saw that her soft blue eyes were puffy, as though she’d recently been crying.

“Down in the cafeteria with Colby.”

Norah blinked, looking mildly surprised.

“He hadn’t had dinner yet and asked me along so we could talk.”

“I feel bad about what happened this morning,” Norah said. “I was upset about Dad and angry with you for going behind Colby’s back. But then I realized I should have explained things better—you know, told you about his qualifications.” She sighed. “I was angry that you hadn’t talked to me first.”

“If I had, I might have saved myself a lot of trouble,” Valerie agreed. “Don’t worry about it, sis—I would’ve been upset, too.”

“If there was ever a time we need to stick together, it’s now. We can’t allow a quarrel to come between us.”

Valerie nodded. Norah looked small and lost, and Valerie crossed the room to sit down beside her, placing a protective arm around her sister’s shoulders.

“I wish Steffie was here,” Norah murmured.

Valerie did, too, but in some ways perhaps it was best that their sister hadn’t arrived yet. Her absence might well be the only thing keeping their father alive.

“What did you and Colby talk about?” Norah asked, pressing her head against Valerie’s shoulder.

“Dad, and what’s going to happen.”

“Does Colby know?”

“No, but it looks like he may not have the option of waiting until Dad’s lungs clear before performing open-heart surgery.”

“But his chances of survival would be practically nil if Colby went ahead with it now!”

Valerie had felt the same alarm when Colby described the procedure to her. He’d drawn a detailed diagram on a napkin and answered a multitude of questions. Although the surgery would be risky, it seemed to be the only alternative available to them. Valerie had understood and accepted Colby’s reasoning, even though her father’s chances were slim. She prayed the surgery could be delayed, but that was looking less promising every hour.

“The likelihood that he’ll survive is a whole lot better with the operation than without,” Valerie reminded her sister. “Still, he said he’d defer it as long as he could.”

“Yes, but … oh, Val, it’s so scary to think of what our lives would be like without Dad.”

“I know.” She stroked her sister’s hair, offering what reassurance and comfort she could.

“Isn’t Colby wonderful?” Norah asked after a while.

Valerie smiled to herself, then nodded. He’d made the surgery, with all its risks, seem the logical thing to do. For the first time since her arrival, she felt hopeful for her father’s chances. She held on to that small surge of confidence with both hands. Colby had been patient, answering her questions, giving her reassurance and hope when she’d felt none.

“Now can you understand why everyone likes him so much?” Norah asked, her voice soft.

“Yes.” She’d intentionally baited him, determined to find out how he really felt about her. She’d looked for some reaction, some sign, but he’d given her nothing.

The more reserved he was, the more challenged she felt. Valerie doubted he ever raised his voice or lost his cool, composed air. Even when she’d pressured him, he’d shown almost no emotion. Yet Valerie couldn’t shake the conviction that he was a man of deep feeling—and strong passion.

Colby was smiling; he’d been smiling ever since he’d left the hospital. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to invite Valerie down to the cafeteria. But he suspected it was because … well, because he enjoyed being with her. He’d never known a woman who was so willing to speak her feelings. She was direct and honest and, damn it all, interesting. It wasn’t that he found Sherry—or for that matter, Norah—boring. He enjoyed their company in an entirely different way.

But Valerie kept him on his toes. She didn’t take anything at face value, but challenged and confronted until she was satisfied. He admired that. In fact, he admired her. But that wasn’t the end of it. This was a woman he could grow to love.

He’d gone off the deep end, he told himself. Worked too many hours without a real break. He’d listened to David Bloomfield once too often. There could never be anything between him and Valerie. She wasn’t what he needed in a woman; not only that, she’d never be content with life in Orchard Valley again.

He knew that as well as she did.

The next morning, with Norah at the hospital, Valerie felt comfortable about leaving for the first time since her arrival from New York. She desperately needed a change of clothes. She was still wearing the business suit she’d had on when she’d received Norah’s message two—no, three—days earlier.

She drove to the family home, down the mile-long driveway that led to the colonial house. She took a moment to glance at the hundreds of neat rows of apple trees, all in fragrant blossom. Then she hauled her suitcase up to her old bedroom, showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a soft blue sweater.

When Valerie returned to the hospital she felt a thousand times better. Norah was still asleep, curled up on the sofa, her knees tucked under her chin. She was so blonde and delicate that Valerie had an almost overpowering recollection of their mother. She came to an abrupt stop. The words of greeting froze on her lips and she turned into the hallway.

Quietly she fought back the tears. She’d barely managed to compose herself before she saw Colby striding intently down the wide corridor, heading straight toward her, his face taut.

“Have you got a moment?” he asked stiffly.

“Sure,” Valerie said, puzzled by his obvious tension. “Is something wrong? Is it Dad?”

“No, this is between you and me.” Colby actually seemed angry. Furious, even, although he hadn’t raised his voice. This was certainly the most emotion she’d seen in him.

He marched toward the elevator, with Valerie following, and then down the narrow passageway to the back entrance of the hospital and the employee parking lot. He was several yards ahead of her.

“Where are we going?” she demanded. His pace was too swift for her to keep stride with him.

“Outside.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, we already are.”

“I don’t want anyone to hear this.”

“Hear what?” she practically shrieked, losing her patience.

Colby whirled around to confront her. “I want to know exactly what you said to your father.”

Valerie was confused. “About what?”

“Us.” The simple little word resonated with anger, contempt, disgust.

Well, so much for her assumption that Colby Winston felt any attraction for her.

“Us?” she repeated. “Don’t be ridiculous. There isn’t any us.”

“That’s precisely my point,” he snapped. “Perhaps you can tell me why your father suddenly announced that you were falling in love with me—and that he expected me to do something about it.”

“He what?” she exploded.

“You heard me. What in the name of heaven did you say?”

“Nothing.” Except for the time she’d seen him yesterday evening, her father had been asleep. At least, his eyes had been closed and his breathing was shallow but regular.

“He knew we’d talked in the cafeteria,” Colby informed her coolly.

“He did?”

“He mentioned it himself.”

“Maybe Norah—”

“Norah, nothing. It came straight from the horse’s mouth. That and a whole lot more.”

Valerie frowned, staring down at the ground in an effort to think.

“Valerie!”

“I … thought he was asleep.”

“What did you say?” he demanded a second time.

She was flustered now, which happened so rarely that it unnerved her even more. “Uh … just that we’d spoken the other night and I … ”

“Go on,” he insisted, his jaw muscles tightening.

“I, uh, have this tendency to talk when I’m upset. I don’t mind telling you Dad’s condition has really scared me. So if he’s asleep, like he’s been most of today, I sit by his side and tell him the things I’ve been thinking about.”

“Which included me?”

Reluctantly, she nodded. Rarely could she recall being more embarrassed. Color burned in her cheeks.

“Valerie, what did you say to him?” Colby asked for the third time. His voice was quiet but his face had sharpened with tension.

She closed her eyes. She didn’t remember everything she’d mumbled, but what she did recall made her cringe. She’d rambled on during those five-minute stretches, saying whatever came into her mind, and most of her thoughts seemed to concern Colby. Not for a second had she believed her father was awake enough to understand a word of it.

“I told him how impressed I was with you,” she began hesitantly. “Although I don’t know you well, I sense a strength in you. I told him how grateful I was to you because I’ve felt so helpless the last couple of days.”

She chanced a look in his direction but his expression was impassive. Not knowing what else to do, she continued. “In any family crisis there’s always one person who has to be strong, and everyone else leans on that person for support. I’m the oldest and I feel responsible for the others. But when I saw my father that first time, I just … couldn’t cope. It’s even harder for Norah. I realized that the strong one in this situation is you. I told Dad that … and some other things.”

“What other things?”

It wasn’t getting any better. “That I … found myself attracted to you. Not physically,” she rushed to explain, conscious that she was lying. “I’m attracted to the emotional stability I sense in you. Only I didn’t say all that to Dad because I didn’t think he could hear me anyway.

“Was that so terrible?” she asked, when Colby remained silent.

“No,” he finally admitted in a hoarse voice.

“What did Dad say to you?” she asked curiously.

Colby’s gaze touched hers, then withdrew. “That you’d fallen head over heels in love with me. And that’s a quote.”

“What?” Valerie said incredulously. “No wonder you were so upset!”

“Upset’s not the word for it. I’m worried about how this is going to affect David’s recovery, especially since he seems to have all kinds of expectations now—expectations that are going to be disappointed. Eventually he’ll just have to realize you’re not the kind of woman I intend to marry.”

“Believe me, Dr. Winston, you have nothing to worry about,” she murmured, annoyed now. “If I was going to fall in love, it would be with a man who was a little more sensitive to my pride.”

“I apologize,” he said, shrugging indifferently. “Your father unfortunately read too much into your … remarks. I’m afraid you’ll have to say something to him.”

“Me?”

“You’re the one who started this.”

“Why can’t we just let the whole thing drop? By tomorrow he’ll have forgotten I said anything.”

“That’s not likely,” Colby said in a grim voice. “He asked me to bring a preacher so we could be married at his bedside.”

Valerie couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. It was as though all the tension, all the waiting and frustration, had broken free inside her. She laughed until the tears streamed down her face and her sides ached, and even then she couldn’t stop. Clutching her stomach, she wiped the moisture from her cheeks.

“Colby, darling,” she said between giggles. “What shall I wear to the ceremony?”

Colby apparently didn’t find her antics humorous.

“I’ll want children, of course,” she told him when she’d managed to stop giggling. “Nine or ten, and I’ll name the little darlings after you. There’ll be little cheeses running around our happy home—Cheddar and Parmesan and—”

“I have absolutely no intention of marrying you.”

“Of course you don’t right now, but that’ll all change.” She enjoyed teasing him, and the laughter was a welcome release after the tension of the past few days.

“You’re not serious, are you?”

Valerie sighed deeply. “If you want me to say something to Dad, I will.”

“I think that would be best.”

“I’m really not so bad, you know,” she felt obliged to tell him. She was disappointed in his reaction, although she’d never admit it. If she was going to make a fool of herself over a man, she didn’t need to travel halfway across the country to do so!

“We don’t have a thing in common and shouldn’t pretend we do.”

“Well, but—”

“Let’s leave it at that, Valerie.”

His attitude hurt. “Fine. I’m not interested in you, either,” she muttered. Without another word, she turned around and marched back into the hospital.

The man had his nerve. He made a relationship with her sound about as attractive as one with a … a porcupine! Colby acted as though she’d purposely set a trap for him, and she resented that.

Norah was awake when she got back to the waiting room. Her younger sister looked up, smiling, as Valerie hurried in and began to pace.

“What’s wrong?” Norah asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She gestured toward the pot, but Valerie shook her head.

“Have you ever noticed how opinionated and high-handed Colby Winston can be?” she asked, still pacing furiously.

“Dr. Winston?” Norah repeated. “Not in the least. I’ve never known him to be rude, not even when someone deserved it.”

Valerie impatiently pushed the sleeves of her sweater past her elbows. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who irritated me more.”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I thought I did, too,” she answered darkly.

“Steffie phoned,” Norah said, cutting off Valerie’s irritation as effectively as if she’d flipped a light switch. “She got through to the nurses’ station here when she couldn’t reach either of us at the house or on our cells.”

“Where is she?” Valerie asked. “Is the transportation strike over?”

“No,” Norah replied. “She’s still trapped in whatever that town is. If she was in one of the big cities she wouldn’t be having nearly as much trouble. She asked about Dad, and I told her everything’s about the same. She sounded like she was close to tears.”

“Poor Steffie.”

“She said she’d give everything she owns to find a way home.” Norah sighed. “If something doesn’t break soon, I think Steff’s going to hike over the Alps.”

She’d do it, too; Valerie didn’t doubt that for a moment.

“I was with Dad earlier,” Norah said, changing the subject again. “He was more alert than before.”

Valerie frowned, well aware of the reason. Her dear, manipulative father seemed to think he was about to get his wish. Little did he realize she had no intention of marrying Dr. Colby Winston. Or that Colby was no more interested in her than she was in him.

Four

David Bloomfield’s condition didn’t change throughout the day that followed. Valerie saw Colby intermittently. He was in surgery most of the afternoon and came by, still wearing his surgical gown, to check on her father early that evening. Valerie happened to be there at the time, and she recognized the weariness in Colby’s face. Without saying anything to her father, she trailed Colby out of the room.

“What about a cup of coffee?” she suggested, and when he hesitated, she added lightly, “I thought you might like to know how I warded off the preacher.”

He grinned, then rubbed a hand across his eyes. “All right,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.”

Valerie headed downstairs with her briefcase and her laptop. That afternoon she’d had her assistant e-mail the contents of several files to her. Even if she had to be out of the office while her father was ill, there were still matters that required her attention. She’d spent much of the afternoon answering e-mails. Working out of the hospital waiting room wasn’t ideal, but she’d managed.

She was at a table in the cafeteria, reading over some notes on her laptop, when Colby arrived. As he pulled out a chair, she straightened, shut down the computer and closed it.

After a somewhat perfunctory greeting, Colby reached for the sugar canister in the middle of the table and methodically poured out a teaspoon, briskly stirring it into his coffee. “I wanted to apologize,” he began.

His words took her by surprise. “For what?”

“I was out of line, coming down on you the way I did about the marriage business. I should’ve realized your father was stretching whatever you said out of proportion. I took my irritation out on you.”

She dismissed his apology with a shake of her head. “It was understandable. As far as I’m concerned, it’s forgotten.”

His eyes met hers as though he couldn’t quite believe her. “You spoke to him?” he asked abruptly.

Valerie nodded, trying to conceal her amusement. “My poor father was distraught, or at least he tried to persuade me he was. But—” she sighed expressively “—he’ll get over it just as I will.” She fluttered her eyelashes melodramatically, teasing Colby just a little.

His eyes shot to hers, and a slow grin moved across his face, relaxing his features. “Disappointed, were you?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve always dreamed of a traditional white wedding gown—one that matches the sheets on my father’s hospital bed.” She smiled and relaxed, too, feeling at ease with him now. She’d been angry, but that was over, and she had to admit she actually liked this man. She certainly admired him.

Colby sipped his coffee, and once again she noted the lines of fatigue that marked his eyes and mouth.

“Rough day?”

He nodded. “I lost a patient. Joanne Murphy. She died this afternoon in surgery. We knew there was a risk, but …” He shrugged heavily. “No matter how often it happens, I never get used to it.”

“I’m so sorry, Colby.” Her hand slid over to his in a gesture of friendship and support.

His fingers gripped hers as if to absorb the comfort and consolation she offered. At the feel of his hand closing over hers, Valerie felt a thrill of happiness, and even more inexplicably, a sense of rightness. She didn’t know how else to describe it. Yet almost immediately, the doubts and uncertainties flowed into her mind.

They were friends, nothing more, she reminded herself. And very recent friends at that. Neither of them was looking for anything else. Neither of them wanted anything else. But if that was really the case, why would she experience this deep ache of longing? For one impulsive moment she yearned to throw herself into his arms, rest her head against his shoulder and immerse herself in his strength. Lend him hers.

Valerie decided she had to ignore these uncharacteristic sensations. She withdrew her hand, hoping he wouldn’t notice its trembling.

“I’d better get back before Norah wonders where I am,” she said firmly. Valerie knew she was a woman who needed to be in control, who looked at a problem from all angles and worked toward the most favorable solution. But Colby Winston wasn’t a problem to be solved. He was a man who left her feeling vulnerable and confused.

She was already on her feet, briefcase in one hand, laptop in the other, when Colby spoke. “Don’t leave … not yet.” His voice was low, hesitant.

Valerie stared at him, unsure whether to stay or go.

“Oh, never mind.” Colby shook his head, eyes suddenly guarded. “Actually, I should be leaving myself,” he said quickly, bounding to his feet. He drank down several gulps of coffee, then strode out of the cafeteria, with Valerie close behind.

“Colby.” She stopped him in front of the elevator. “What is it you don’t like about me?” The question was out before she had time to analyze the wisdom of asking.

“I do like you,” he answered, frowning.

“But you wouldn’t want to marry someone like me?”

“No,” he agreed calmly. “I wouldn’t want to marry someone like you.”

“Because?” Valerie wasn’t sure why she continued to probe, why it was necessary for her to understand his reasons. She only knew that she felt a compelling urge to ask.

“You have a brilliant future ahead of you,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “Your father’s proud of your accomplishments, and rightly so. I admire your drive, your ambition, your ability.”

“But.” She said it before he could. There had to be a but in there somewhere.

“But,” he said with the slightest hint of a smile. “I’m not interested in getting involved with an up-and-coming female executive. When I commit myself to a woman and a relationship, I want someone who’s more … traditional. Someone who’ll consider making our home and rearing our children her career.”

“I see.” He was wise to acknowledge that she wasn’t the type who’d be content to sit quietly by the fireplace and spin her own yarn. No, Valerie would soon figure out how to have that yarn mass-produced, then see about franchising it into a profit-making enterprise. Business was in her blood, the same way medicine was in his.

“I don’t mean to offend you,” he said.

“You haven’t,” she assured him, and it was the truth.

The elevator arrived and they stepped inside together. Neither spoke as Colby pushed the appropriate button. The doors silently glided shut.

Valerie wished they weren’t alone. It seemed so intimate, so private, just the two of them standing there.

“Valerie, listen …”

“It’s okay,” she said, smiling up at him. “Really. I asked, didn’t I? That’s how I am. You were honest with me, and I appreciate that. It’s true I’m attracted to you, but that’s probably fairly common in our circumstances, since you saved my father’s life and all. Being attracted doesn’t mean I’m in love with you.”

“I know, it’s just that—” He broke off hastily, his eyes probing hers. “Oh, what the hell,” he murmured, the words so low that Valerie had to strain to hear him. Then his hands were taking hold of her shoulders and drawing her toward him. His mouth unerringly found hers and without conscious intent, she responded to his kiss, feeling none of the awkwardness she experienced with other men. The kiss was much like the man. Warm, deliberate, devastating.

She heard a soft moan from the back of her throat.

His head shifted restlessly before he released her. He dropped his arms, looking completely shocked. Valerie didn’t know what had distressed him most—the fact that he’d kissed her or that he’d enjoyed it.

“Valerie, I.” Her name was a whisper.

Just then the elevator doors opened, and Colby cast an accusing glare at the nurse who entered. Grabbing Valerie’s hand, he jerked her onto the floor before the elevator doors closed again.

“This isn’t CCU,” she protested, glancing around. Good grief, they were on the maternity floor. Down the hall, a row of newborns was on display behind a glass partition.

But Colby didn’t give her a chance to get a closer look. Still holding her hand, he led her to the stairwell. He held open the door, then released her and dashed up the steps. He was halfway up the first flight before he seemed to realize she was no longer beside him. He turned back impatiently.

“Colby,” she objected. “If you want to run up the stairs, fine, but you’re in better physical condition than I am. I sit at a desk most of the day, remember?”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“What, racing up the stairs?”

“No, kissing you!”

“It was nice enough, as kisses go,” she said, out of breath from the exertion, “but don’t worry, you won’t have to marry me because of a simple kiss.” The only way she could deal with this experience was to deny how strongly it affected her, push aside these unfamiliar, unwelcome feelings. She suspected that was how Colby felt, too.

“Our kiss may have been a lot of things, but simple wasn’t one of them,” he muttered.

“You’re worrying too much about something that really isn’t important.”

His eyes held such a quizzical expression that Valerie continued talking. “You’re tired, and so am I,” she said, making excuses for them both. “We’re under a great deal of stress. You’ve had a long, discouraging day and your guard slipped a little,” she went on. “My being so pushy didn’t help, either. You kissed me, but it isn’t the end of the world.”

“It won’t happen again.” He spoke with absolute certainty.

Pride stiffened Valerie’s shoulders. “That’s probably for the best.” Colby was right. Her personality was all wrong for someone like him. A doctor’s work was emotionally demanding and physically draining; she couldn’t blame him for seeking a wife who’d create a warm cocoon of domesticity for him. A home filled with comfort and love and peace. Valerie couldn’t fault his preference. She wished him well and determined to put the kiss out of her mind.

The next afternoon, Valerie went downtown. The streets of Orchard Valley greeted her like a long-lost friend. She felt heartened by the sight of the flower-filled baskets that hung from every streetlight.

The clock outside the Wells Fargo Bank was still ten minutes slow, even after thirty years. When Valerie was thirteen, a watchmaker from somewhere out East had been hired to repair the grand old clock. He spent most of a day working on it, then declared the problem fixed. Two days after he’d left town, the clock was back to running ten minutes late and no one bothered to have it repaired again, although it came up on the town council agenda at least once a year.

The barbershop with its classic red-and-white striped pole whirling round and round was as cheery as ever. Mr. Stein, the barber, sat in one of his leather chairs reading the Orchard Valley Clarion, waiting for his next customer. Valerie walked past, and when he glanced over the top of the paper, she smiled and waved. He grinned and returned the gesture.

The sense of homecoming was acute, lifting her spirits. She passed the newspaper office, two doors down from the barbershop; looking in the window, she noted the activity inside as the staff prepared the next edition of the Orchard Valley Clarion. She hadn’t gone more than a few steps when she heard someone call her name.

She turned to find Charles Tomaselli, the paper’s editor, directly behind her. “Valerie, hello. I wondered how long it’d take before I ran into you. How’s your dad doing?”

“About the same,” she answered.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He buried his hands in his pants pockets and matched his pace to hers. “I haven’t seen Stephanie around.”

“She’s still in Italy.”

Although he gave no outward indication of his feelings, Valerie sensed his irritation. “She didn’t make the effort to come home even when her father’s so ill? I’d have thought she’d want to be with him.”

“She’s trying as hard as she can,” Valerie said, defending her sister. “But she’s stuck in a small town a hundred miles outside of Rome—because of that transportation strike. But if there’s a way out, Steffie’ll find it.”

Charles nodded, and Valerie had the odd impression that he regretted bringing up the subject of her sister. “If you get the chance, will you tell your father something for me?”

“Of course.”

“Let him know Commissioner O’Dell called me after last week’s article on the farm labor issue. That’ll cheer him up.”

“The farm labor issue?” Valerie repeated, wanting to be sure she understood him correctly.

Charles grinned almost boyishly, his dark eyes sparkling with pleasure. “That’s right. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but your father would make one heck of an investigative reporter. Tell him I said that, too. He’ll know what I mean.”

“Sure,” Valerie agreed, wishing she knew more about the article and her father’s role in it.

“Nice seeing you again,” Charles said, turning to head back to the newspaper office. He hesitated. “When you see Stephanie, tell her hello from me,” he said over his shoulder.

“Of course. I’ll be happy to.” Thoughtfully, Valerie watched him walk away. Charles not only edited the Clarion, he wrote a regular column and most of the major features, like the farm labor story he’d just mentioned. Considering his talent and energy, she was surprised he’d stayed on with a small-town paper; he could have gone to work for one of the big dailies long before now. But then, these days, with major newspapers folding, maybe he’d been smart not to leave.

She found it interesting that he’d asked about Steffie. Several years ago, Valerie had suspected there was something romantic developing between them. Steffie had been a college student at the time and Charles had just moved to Orchard Valley. She remembered Steffie poring over every article, every column, exclaiming over Charles’s skill, his style, his wit. To Valerie, it had definitely sounded like romance in the making. His comments about Stephanie now suggested it hadn’t been entirely one-sided, either.

But then, romance was hardly a subject she knew much about. So if there was something between Steffie and Charles, it was their business and she was staying out of it. She knew just enough about relationships to make a mess of them. A good example of that was how she’d bungled things with Colby.

She felt a twinge of regret. Since their kiss, he’d been avoiding her. Or at least she assumed he was. Until then, he’d made a point of coming by and chatting with her when he could. They’d always been brief visits, but their times together had broken up the monotony of the long hours she’d spent at the hospital. She hadn’t realized how much those short interludes meant to her until they stopped.

Norah was the one who’d sent Valerie on the errand into town. Some flimsy excuse about picking up some photos from a roll of film their father had left for developing. He was admittedly old-fashioned when it came to cameras and photography; Valerie had wanted to buy him a digital camera last Christmas but he’d insisted that he preferred his forty-year-old Nikon, which had served him well all these years. Asking her to collect the pictures now was a blatant attempt to get her out of the hospital, not that Valerie minded. She was beginning to feel desperate for fresh air and sunshine.

Although most of the orchards were miles out of town, she could’ve sworn that when she inhaled deeply she caught a whiff of apple blossoms.

Spring was her favorite time of year. But although she’d been home intermittently over the past decade, she’d never spent more than a day or two and had never visited during April or May. She wondered if she’d been unconsciously avoiding Orchard Valley during those months, knowing that the charm and the appeal of her home would be at their strongest then. Perhaps she’d feared she might never want to leave if she came while the white and pink blossoms perfumed the air.

Not wanting to examine her thoughts too closely, Valerie continued down the street, past the feed store and the local café until she arrived at her destination. Al’s Pharmacy.

Al’s was a typical small-town drugstore, where you could buy anything from cards and gifts to aspirin and strawberry jam. At one end of the pharmacy Al operated a state-run liquor store and in the opposite corner was a small post office. The soda fountain, which specialized in chocolate malts, was situated at the front. It had been there since the fifties, the kind of thing rarely seen outside of small towns anymore. Valerie had lost count of the number of times she’d stopped in after school with her friends. She wondered if “going to Al’s for a chocolate malt” remained as popular with local teenagers these days as it had been when she was growing up. She suspected it did.

“Valerie Bloomfield,” the aging pharmacist called to her from behind the counter. “I thought that was you. How’s your dad doing?”

“The same.”

“Norah phoned and said you were on your way. I put those snapshots aside for you and just wrote it up on the bill. You tell your dad I’m counting on him to go fishing with me come July, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“I’ll tell him,” Valerie promised.

She took the package and wandered outside. Curiosity got the better of her, though, and she paused on the sidewalk to open the envelope. Inside was an array of snapshots her father had taken that spring.

Valerie’s heart constricted at the number of photos he had of her mother’s grave site. In each, a profusion of flowers adorned the headstone. There were a couple of pictures of Norah, as well. The first showed her sitting in a chair by the fireplace, a plaid blanket around her knees and an open book on her lap. The second was taken outside, probably in late March. The wind had whipped Norah’s blond hair about her face, and she was laughing into the sun. In both photographs her resemblance to their mother was uncanny.

Grief and pity tore at Valerie’s heart as she imagined her father taking those pictures. He was so lost and lonely without his Grace, and the photographs told her that in an unmistakable and poignant way.

Her thoughts oppressive, Valerie walked aimlessly for a few minutes. When she saw that she was near the community park, she strolled in, past the swimming pool, now drained and empty, and followed the stone walkway that meandered through the manicured lawns. As she reached the children’s playground, a breeze caught the swings, rocking them back and forth.

Memories of her childhood crowded her mind, and she sat in one of the old swings, almost wishing she could be a little girl again. It would’ve been easy to close her eyes, pretending she was eight years old. She allowed herself a minute to remember Sunday afternoons spent in this very park, with David pushing her and a tiny Stephanie on these swings, catching them at the bottom of the slide. But she was thirty-one now and her father, whom she adored, was in a hospital room, fighting for each breath he drew.

She refused to even consider the possibility of losing him. Was she being selfish? She didn’t know. Her father had said he was ready to die, ready to relinquish his life.

She dragged the toe of her shoe along the ground, slowing the swing to a halt. When the time came to let go of her father, Valerie prayed she could do it with acceptance and strength. When death came to him, she wanted it to be as a friend, not an enemy with a score to settle. But don’t let him die yet. Please, not yet.

As she drove back to the hospital, past the strip malls that marked the highway, she caught sight of a recent addition. A movie theater, a six-plex. It astonished her that little Orchard Valley could have six movies all playing at once, especially in the era of DVDs and movies you could download from the Internet. She supposed that in a small town, going to the movies was still a major social event. The downtown theater she remembered so well from her teenage years still operated, but to a limited audience; according to Norah the features were second-run and often second-rate.

Orchard Valley had its share of national fast-food restaurants now, too, many of them situated along the highway. But as far as Valerie was concerned, hamburgers didn’t get any better than those at The Burger Shack, a locally owned diner.

The summer she was sixteen, Valerie had worked there as a waitress, serving customers for minimum wage, thinking she was the luckiest girl in town to have landed such a wonderful job. How times had changed! How much she’d changed.

As she neared the hospital, Valerie felt a surge of reluctance. For nearly a week now, she’d practically lived on the CCU floor with only brief visits home to shower and change clothes. It had been a strange week, outside ordinary time somehow. Four years ago, when her mother was dying, she’d experienced something similar. But then her father and both her sisters had been there to share it. Now there were only two—Norah and her. And Colby …

She pulled into the parking lot and found a vacant spot, then walked toward the main entrance, sorry to leave the sunshine.

The minute she entered the lobby, Norah sprang up from the sofa she’d been sitting on. “I didn’t think you’d ever get back,” she said breathlessly. “What took you so long?”

“I stopped at the park. What’s the matter?”

“Steffie called from Rome. She’s flying home by way of Tokyo. I know it sounds crazy, but it was the most direct flight she could get. She’s hoping to arrive sometime tomorrow night. She wasn’t sure exactly when, but she said she’d let us know as soon as possible.”

“How’d she make it to Rome?”

“I asked her that, but she didn’t have time to explain. I told Dad she’d probably be here by tomorrow night.”

Valerie felt herself relax. Until now, she hadn’t realized just how tense she’d been over Steffie’s situation.

“Colby wants to see you,” Norah informed her next.

“Did he say why?”

Norah shook her head, frowning a little. “You two didn’t have an argument, did you?”

“No. What makes you ask?”

Norah shrugged vaguely. “Just the way he looked when he asked for you.”

“Looked?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Norah was clearly regretting that she’d said anything. “It’s like he was eager to see you, but then relieved when I told him you’d gone into town. That might seem absurd, but I can’t think of any other way of describing it.”

“I’ll catch him later.” For some reason, Valerie wasn’t quite ready to see him yet.

“I’m sure he’ll stop by this evening.”

“How’s Dad doing?” Valerie asked as they headed for the elevator.

“Not so good. His breathing is more labored and the swelling in his extremities isn’t any better. That’s not a good sign. Colby’s doing everything he can to drain his lungs, but nothing seems to work. In the meantime, Dad’s growing weaker by the hour.”

“He misses Mom even more than we knew,” Valerie whispered, thinking about the snapshots she’d picked up at Al’s Pharmacy. She wondered how often he’d visited their mother’s grave. How often he turned to speak to the woman he’d spent a lifetime with, remembering too late that she was gone.

“What will we do if anything happens to Dad?” Norah asked quietly.

A few days earlier, Valerie would’ve rejected that possibility, adamantly claiming their father wasn’t going to die. She’d stubbornly refused to consider it. She wasn’t as unyielding now.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, “but we’ll manage. We’ll have to.”

They were seated in the waiting room when Colby arrived. Valerie glanced up from a business publication she was reading and knew instantly that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. His eyes, dark and troubled, met hers. Without being conscious of it, she stood, the magazine slipping unnoticed to the floor.

“Colby?” His name became an urgent plea. “What is it?”

He sat down on the sofa and reached for Valerie’s hands, gripping them tightly with his own. His gaze slid from her to Norah. “Your father’s suffered a second heart attack.”

“No,” Norah breathed.

“And?” Valerie’s own heart felt as though it were in danger of failing just then. It pounded wildly, sending bursts of fear through her body.

“We can’t delay the surgery any longer.”

Norah was on her feet, tears streaking her face. “You can’t do the surgery now! His chances of survival are practically nil. We both know that.”

“He doesn’t have any chance if we don’t.” Although he was speaking to Norah, it was Valerie’s gaze he held, Valerie’s eyes he looked into—as if to say he’d do anything to have spared her this.

Five

Colby had been with her father in the operating room for almost six hours, but to Valerie, it felt like six years.

While she waited, she recalled the happy times with her father and, especially as she entered adolescence, the not-so-happy ones. Her will had often clashed with his, and they’d engaged in one verbal battle after another. Valerie had found her father stubborn, high-handed and irrational.

Her mother had repeatedly told Valerie the reason she didn’t get along with her father was that the two of them were so much alike. At the time Valerie had considered her mother’s remark an insult. Furthermore, it made no sense. If they were alike, then they should be friends instead of adversaries.

It wasn’t until her mother became ill that Valerie grew close to her father. In their love and concern for Grace, they’d set aside their differences; not a cross word had passed between them since.

Valerie couldn’t say which of them had changed, but she figured they’d both made progress. All she knew was that she loved her father with a fierceness that left her terrified whenever she thought about losing him.

The passage of time lost all meaning as she paced, back and forth, across the waiting room floor. It wasn’t the waiting room she was so familiar with, since Surgery was on the hospital’s ground level; a small brick patio, bordered with a waist-high hedge, opened off glass doors. Every now and then, Valerie or Norah would wander outside to breathe in the cool air, to savor the peace and tranquility of the night. There’d been no other patients in surgery that evening, no other families waiting for news.

Somehow word got out about her father’s crisis. Pastor Wallen from the Community Church stopped by and prayed with Valerie and Norah. Charles Tomaselli was there for an hour, as well. Various friends, including Al Russell from the pharmacy, came, too.

At midnight, an exhausted Norah had curled up on the sofa and fallen into a troubled sleep. Valerie envied her sister’s ability to rest, but found no such respite from her own fears.

Pacing and sucking on hard candy to relieve her nerves were the only methods she had of dealing with the terrible tension. She stared out the window at the bright moonlit night, then turned suddenly when she heard a soft footfall behind her. Colby stood there, still wearing his surgical greens.

Valerie’s eyes flew to his, but she could read nothing.

“He made it.”

She nearly slumped to the floor with relief. Tears welled up, but she blinked them back. “Thank God,” she whispered, raising both hands to her mouth.

“I nearly lost him once,” Colby said hoarsely, shaking his head. How exhausted he looked, Valerie noted. “I didn’t think there was anything more we could do. It seemed like a miracle when his heart restarted. In some ways, it was. Only so much of what happens on the operating table is in my hands.”

“I’m sure it was a miracle,” Valerie whispered, hardly able to speak. She walked to the sofa on unsteady legs and bent to wake Norah. Her sister woke instantly—her training as a nurse, no doubt—and Valerie told her, “Dad made it through the operation.”

“The danger’s not over yet,” Colby cautioned. “Not by a long shot. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I can’t. If he survives the night—”

“But he survived the surgery,” Norah said, her voice raised with hope. “I didn’t think that was possible. Surely that was his biggest hurdle?”

“Yes,” Colby agreed, “but his condition is critical.”

“I know,” Norah answered, but a faint light began to glow in her eyes. From the little Norah had said, Valerie realized her sister hadn’t expected their father to live through the ordeal. Now that he had, she was given the first glimmer of promise.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Colby said, rubbing his eyes in an oddly vulnerable gesture. He must be running on pure adrenaline, Valerie thought. He’d been in surgery earlier in the day and he’d lost a patient; he’d feared he was about to lose another one. He still could. He didn’t need to say it aloud for Valerie to know.

Colby didn’t think her father would live until morning.

“I wish Steffie was here,” Norah said after Colby had left.

Valerie nodded. “I do, too.”

Colby had been gone a few minutes when a male nurse appeared. He knew Norah and greeted her warmly, then told them they could each see their father, but for only a moment.

Valerie went first. She’d assumed she was emotionally prepared, but the sight of her father destroyed any self-control she might have attained. Seeing him lying there so close to death affected her far more acutely than she’d expected.

Hurriedly she turned and left, feeling as though she could barely breathe. She walked past Norah without a word. She stumbled onto the patio, hugging her middle with both arms, dragging in one deep breath after another in a futile effort to compose herself.

The tears, which she’d managed to resist all evening, broke through in a flood of fear and anger. It was unfair. It was so unfair. How could she lose her father so soon after her mother?

She didn’t often give in to tears, but now they came as a release. Huge sobs shook her body. Slowly, she lowered herself onto a concrete bench, then rocked back and forth as the hot, unstoppable tears continued to fall.

A hand at her back felt warm and comforting. “Go ahead and let it out,” Colby whispered.

He sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders, and gradually drew her to him. She had no strength or will to refuse. Nestling her face against his jacket, Valerie sobbed loudly, openly. Colby rubbed his cheek along her hair and whispered indistinguishable, soothing words. His arms were strong and safe, and she desperately needed him and he was there.

When there were no more tears left to shed, a deep shudder racked her body. She straightened and used her sleeve to wipe her damp face.

“Feel better?” Colby asked, his hand on her hair.

Valerie nodded, embarrassed now that he’d found her like this. “Norah?”

“She’s talking to Mark Collins. One of the nurses who assisted me in surgery.”

“I … thought I was prepared … didn’t know I’d fall apart like this.”

“You’ve been under a lot of stress.”

“We all have.” She edged away from him, and taking the cue, he dropped his arm. She offered him a trembling smile, her gaze avoiding his.

“I wish I could guarantee that your father’s going to make it through this,” he said, his voice heavy. “But I can’t do that, Valerie.”

“I know.” Spontaneously, as though he’d silently willed it, she raised her eyes to his. His hands grasped her shoulders, tightening as he urged her closer. His eyes seemed to darken as his mouth made a slow descent toward hers, stopping a mere fraction from her lips.

Valerie closed her eyes, and his warm breath caressed her face. She inhaled the pungent scent of surgical soap and something else, something that was ineffably him.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered.

It certainly wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. “I … know,” she said, but she was beyond listening to common sense. She needed Colby. His warmth, his comfort, his touch. And she wouldn’t be denied.

“Please,” she whispered.

The driving force of his kiss parted her lips, and Valerie was instantly caught in a whirlwind of sensation. Her hands reached for him, sliding up his solid chest, her fingers locking at the base of his neck.

He moaned, and she did, too. There was no resistance in Valerie, none. She surrendered herself to his kiss, to his need and her own.

With what seemed like reluctance, he broke away and slipped his mouth from hers.

She felt cold when he lifted his face. Opening her eyes, she glanced toward the waiting room, grateful to see that it was empty. They were alone in the shadows of the hedge, but a few seconds earlier it wouldn’t have mattered if they’d been standing in the middle of the bustling emergency room.

“I shouldn’t have let that happen. We both—”

Valerie placed her finger over his lips, silencing him. “Don’t say it. Please.” Her hands cupped his face and she gazed into his eyes, dark now with desire. “I need you. Right or wrong, I need you. Just hold me.”

A faint quiver went through her as he brought her back into his arms. Closing her eyes again, Valerie surrendered to the strength and safety she felt in his embrace.

He kissed her forehead lightly. His breath was uneven, and she found pleasure in knowing that he was no less affected by their encounter than she was.

As she’d already told him, Valerie didn’t want to question the right or wrong of it now. Neither of them was in any real danger of falling in love. Colby had explained the reasons a relationship between them was unfeasible. And she agreed with him. But their calm, rational words didn’t take into account what she was experiencing. This excitement, this weightless sense of release and longing. She didn’t want it to end. Apparently Colby didn’t, either, because he made no move to let her go.

“You shouldn’t feel so good in my arms,” he told her.

“I’m sorry.” But she wasn’t, not really. Soon they’d both regret this, but she’d save all the remorse for another day.

While she was in Colby’s embrace, she didn’t have to think about the future. She didn’t have to worry about facing the world without anyone to guide and support her. For the first time since she’d come home to Orchard Valley, Valerie didn’t feel inadequate or alone.

True, Norah was with her and Steffie was due to arrive soon. The three of them had each other, yet Valerie couldn’t quite escape the old roles; she was the one they’d always depended on for encouragement, guidance, a sense of strength. Only Valerie didn’t feel strong. She felt shaken, knocked off balance. She felt completely helpless….

“Norah’s looking for you,” Colby said.

Valerie sighed and grudgingly broke away from him. She peered into the waiting room and noticed her younger sister. Norah’s eyes found her at the same time. She didn’t do a good job of concealing her shock.

Valerie stood and turned to Colby. “Thank you.”

He remained sitting on the concrete bench and sent her a smile full of private meaning.

Norah met her at the door, eyes shifting from Valerie to Colby. “Is everything all right?”

Valerie nodded. “Dad’s holding his own at the moment.”

“I didn’t mean Dad. I meant with you.”

“Of course,” Valerie answered, forcing a casual tone. “I … just needed a good cry, and Colby lent me his shoulder.”

Norah slipped her arm around Valerie’s waist. “His shoulder, you say?” she asked, with more than a hint of a smile. “It looked like more than that to me.”

It was the following night, and once again Valerie and Norah had taken up residence in the waiting room. Several small groups of people were scattered about the area, either silent or speaking quietly.

“Dad’s been asleep for nearly twenty hours.” Valerie voiced her concern to Norah, who was far more knowledgeable about what was and wasn’t usual after this kind of surgery. “Isn’t that too long? I realize the anesthesia has a lot to do with it, but I can’t help worrying.”

“He’s been awake for brief periods off and on today,” Norah said. “He’s doing very well, all things considered.”

Her father wasn’t Valerie’s only concern. It was now after nine in the evening, and she’d been waiting since morning for some word from Steffie, who was supposed to be arriving sometime that day. But no one had heard from her, and Valerie felt anxious.

“Dad tried to talk the last time I was with him,” Norah told her.

“What did he say?”

She shrugged. “It didn’t make any sense. He looked up at me and grinned as if he’d heard the funniest joke in years and said ‘six kids.’”

“Six kids?”

“I don’t get it, either,” Norah murmured. “I’m going to ask Colby about it when I see him, but we keep missing each other.”

Valerie sat down and thumbed through the frayed pages of a two-year-old women’s magazine. It was a summer issue dedicated to homes and gardens, which only went to prove how desperate she was for reading material that would take her mind off her fears.

She glanced at photographs of bright glossy kitchens and “country” bedrooms, wicker-furnished porches and “minimal” living rooms—all of them attractive, none of them quite real. None of them home.

And she knew with sudden certainty that home was here. Here in Orchard Valley at the family house. In the upstairs bedroom at the end of the hallway. Home was curling up with a good book by the fireplace in her father’s den, and it was eating meals around the big oak table in the dining room her mother had loved.

That was home. She lived in her Houston condo in an exclusive neighborhood. She’d had a decorator choose the color scheme and select the furniture, since she didn’t have the time for either task. A housekeeper came in twice a week to clean. The condo was a place to sleep. An address where she could pick up her mail. But it wasn’t a place of memories and it wasn’t home.

She read an article in the same magazine about herb gardens. Gardening had always been her mother’s hobby, but every now and then Valerie had helped her weed. The times they’d spent working in the garden were among the fondest memories she had of her mother.

Perhaps in an attempt to recapture some of that simple happiness, Valerie had bought several large plants for her condo. But the housekeeper was the one who watered and fertilized them, since Valerie traveled so much.

Neither a home, at least not like the one she’d been raised in, nor a garden seemed to be in her future. Colby had recognized that from the beginning. Just as well, although it hadn’t warded off the magnetic attraction between them.

Valerie’s mind wandered to their exchange the night before. Their kissing was undoubtedly a mistake, but it was understandable and certainly forgivable. Both were emotionally drained, their resistance to each other almost nonexistent. Yet Valerie couldn’t bring herself to regret the time she’d spent in Colby’s arms.

It hurt a bit that he was avoiding her, because it told her he didn’t share her feelings. In those moments with Colby, Valerie had experienced something extraordinary. She’d always considered romantic love a highly overrated commodity. Dr. Colby Winston was the first man who’d given her reason to reevaluate that opinion—despite the fact that a relationship between them had no possible future.

Just when she was beginning to think he planned never to seek her out again, Colby surprised her. Norah had gone to talk with the nurse who’d been assigned to care for their father, and Valerie sat alone in the SICU waiting room, shuffling through her thoughts. Colby was on her mind just then—not that he was ever far from it.

She happened to glance up as he walked in. He was wearing a dark gray suit; she didn’t think she’d ever seen a handsomer man. Not even Rowdy Cassidy.

Their eyes met and held. “Hello,” she said, with a breathless quality to her voice. Over the course of her career, Valerie had made presentations before large audiences. Her voice carried well, yet with Colby she felt like a first-grader asked to stand before the class and confess a wrong.

“Valerie.” He paused and cleared his throat, then began again, sounding stilted and formal. “I’ve tied up everything here and I’m addressing a seminar this evening at the university. However, I have time for a bite to eat before I leave. Would you join me?”

“I’d be happy to,” she answered.

“I thought we should eat someplace other than the cafeteria.” His voice was more relaxed now. “There’s an Italian restaurant near here that serves excellent food.”

“Great.” Valerie brightened until she realized he hadn’t chosen the restaurant because he had a craving for spaghetti. He wanted to talk to her somewhere away from the hospital. Somewhere he could be assured none of his peers would be listening.

After leaving a message for Norah, they left the hospital in his car, a late-model maroon sedan. Sitting beside him, watching his strong, well-shaped hands on the steering wheel, gave Valerie a sense of intimacy, a feeling of familiarity.

The restaurant, a fairly new place she’d never visited before, was elegantly decorated in black and silver. The lighting, low and discreet, created a welcoming ambience.

“You didn’t need to pay for my dinner to apologize, you know,” Valerie said, reading over her menu. She quickly decided on a bowl of minestrone soup and fettuccine with fresh asparagus. No wine, because it would send her to sleep.

“Apologize?” Colby repeated.

Valerie lowered her menu and, crossing her arms, leaned toward him. “Not apologize exactly. You brought me here to tell me you’re sorry about what happened last night, didn’t you? I mean, it’s fairly obvious, since you’ve been avoiding me all day. But don’t worry about it,” she said off-handedly, “I understand.”

He scowled and set aside his menu. “Sometimes I forget how direct you can be.”

“I’d rather have everything out in the open. There’s no need to concern yourself with … what happened. I—needed you, and you were there for me.”

His scowl intensified. “In other words, any man would have suited your purposes?”

“No,” she said. “Only you. What we shared was very … sweet. I’ll always be grateful to you for letting me cry.”

“It’s not the crying that concerns me.”

“The kissing was very special, too,” she said softly.

“Yes, I suppose it was. But it might be best to forget that, uh, particular part of last night.”

The waitress approached with pad and pen in hand. They placed their orders, then Valerie resumed the conversation. “Maybe you can forget the kissing,” she said in a mild tone, “but I don’t think it’ll be possible for me.”

Colby’s gaze left hers. “Personally, I don’t think I’ll be able to forget it, either,” he said.

They both fell silent but a faint smile curved her lips as she savored his words. He’d tried to dismiss the attraction between them and couldn’t. Neither could she.

“It doesn’t change anything,” he told her, his voice calm and resolute.

He’d meant everything he’d said earlier; that much Valerie understood. She couldn’t change who she was. Easy as it would be to fall in love with him, Valerie knew she’d never be truly happy as a homemaker. She had too much ambition, too many dreams. A business career was what she wanted, where her skills lay, and she couldn’t relinquish that any more than Colby could give up his medical practice.

“Your father’s doing remarkably well,” Colby told her in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

Valerie was delighted. Norah had told her repeatedly what excellent progress their father was making, and it was thrilling to have it confirmed.

“I’ve got him listed as critical at the moment,” Colby went on, “but I have a feeling he’s going to surprise us all and live to be a hundred.”

Valerie beamed Colby a happy smile, hardly able to speak for the emotion clogging her throat. “We owe you so much, Colby.”

He shrugged off her thanks and seemed grateful that the waitress appeared just then to deliver the first course of their meal.

The soup was delicious, but after a few spoonfuls Valerie was finished, her appetite gone. She managed only a taste of her fettucine. Colby glanced over, frowning, when she pushed the plate aside.

“Is something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“You hardly touched your meal.”

“I know.”

“What’s wrong?” he pressed.

Valerie lowered her eyes. “I was just trying to decide how I was going to leave you, Colby, and not cry.” She hadn’t meant to sound quite so serious; she’d meant to sound wryly amused.

Her words silenced him. His eyes met hers, and when he spoke, his voice revealed his sincerity. “You’d be very easy to love.”

“But.” She said the dreaded word for him.

“But we both know it wouldn’t work.”

“You’re right,” she said convincingly. Why wouldn’t her heart listen?

“Valerie.” Her father smiled weakly as she entered the cubicle in SICU. His hand reached for hers, brought it to his lips. “I wondered when I’d see you.”

“I … went out for dinner.”

“All by yourself?”

“No.” But she didn’t want to tell him she’d been with Colby.

Besides, there were other things to discuss. Norah had told Valerie the most unbelievable story. Apparently while Valerie was out for dinner, their father had told Norah about a vision he’d had. A vision? Valerie didn’t know what to make of that, any more than Norah did.

“What’s all this Norah was telling me?” she asked.

Once again her father smiled, only this time it was brighter and there was a sparkle in his tired eyes. “I died, you know. Ask Colby if you don’t believe me.”

Vaguely Valerie remembered Colby saying something about her father’s heart stopping and restarting, and considering it a miracle. “I know we’re very fortunate to have you with us.”

“More fortunate than you realize. Now, I don’t want you getting all excited the way your sister did, but I don’t expect you will. I had what those television reporters call a near-death experience.”

“The long dark tunnel with the light at the end?” Valerie had certainly heard about the phenomenon.

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “I was in a garden.”

“The Garden of Eden?” she asked lightly.

“Might’ve been. I couldn’t say.”

He hadn’t been aware that she was joking. “I didn’t notice the trees so much, but there might’ve been an apple. What I did notice was the pretty woman tending the roses.”

“Mom?” Valerie breathed the question, hardly knowing where it came from.

David smiled and shut his eyes. “We had a good, long talk, your mother and I. She convinced me it wasn’t my time to die, that there’s still plenty for me to do on this earth. I wasn’t pleased to hear it because I’ve been thinking for some time now that I’d rather be with her.”

“Daddy, I don’t—”

“Shush now, because I have a lot to tell you and I’m getting weaker.”

“All right.”

“Your mother loves you and is very proud of everything you’ve accomplished, but she said you should take time to enjoy life before it passes you by.”

That sounded like something her mother would say.

“She also told me I was an old fool to try and match you up with Colby.”

“But—” She snapped her mouth closed, unwilling to say more.

“Grace feels my pushing the two of you to marry was ridiculous. Said I should apologize for that.”

Valerie remained silent.

“There’s more,” David continued, “lots more. Grace wanted to be sure she gave me plenty of reasons to come back to this world.”

“I’m very glad she convinced you.”

Her father’s eyes drifted shut, but he opened them again with apparent effort. “She talked to me about Stephanie and Norah, too.”

“Good, Daddy,” she said softly, patting his hand. “You can tell me all about it next time.”

“Want to explain now …”

“Shh, sleep.”

“You’re all going to get married. Your mother assured me all three of you would.”

“Of course we will. Eventually.”

“Soon. Very … soon.”

“I’m glad,” she whispered, although she wasn’t sure he heard her.

So her father had gone through a near-death experience. Valerie didn’t know how much credence to put in what he was saying. Marriage was the farthest thing from her mind at the moment. Obviously, marrying Colby was out of the question. And—without even noticing—she’d lost interest in the idea of a relationship with Rowdy Cassidy.

“She gave me twelve reasons to live,” her father announced sleepily. “Twelve very good reasons.”

Valerie recalled that Norah had said something about the number six. She couldn’t imagine why her father was speaking in figures all of a sudden.

“Twelve reasons,” Valerie echoed, then leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

Her father’s eyes fluttered open and he grinned boyishly. “Yup, my grandchildren. You, my darling Valerie, are going to give me three. All within the next few years.”

Six

“When’s the last time you spoke to your father?” Colby asked Valerie when she arrived at the hospital the next morning, carrying an armful of apple blossoms for the nurses’ station. He seemed to be waiting for her, and none too patiently.

She sighed, realizing what must have happened. “I take it Dad told you about his experience in the Garden of Eden?”

“It was the Garden of Eden?”

“Figuratively, I suppose.”

“So you know, then,” Colby muttered. A hint of a frown flickered across his expression.

“Look at it this way—at least Dad’s given up his matchmaking efforts.” Valerie had assumed Colby would be happy about that, so his reaction puzzled her.

His scowl deepened. “He apologized for even making the suggestion.”

“See, what’d I tell you?” Valerie said, her mouth quirking with a smile. “We’re both in the clear.”

Apparently, this wasn’t what Colby wanted to hear, either. “He also claimed you’d be married before the end of the summer—and that you’d present him with three grandchildren.”

“In the next few years. It looks like I’m going to be busy, doesn’t it?” Valerie hadn’t taken her father’s announcement too seriously; he’d had some kind of pleasant hallucination, and if it made him feel better, if it gave him a reason for living, then that was fine. She’d go along with it, although she wouldn’t actively encourage him.

Besides, it was highly unlikely she’d marry anytime soon, and even if she did, she had no intention of leaping into this motherhood business. Marriage would be enough of an adjustment. She enjoyed children, and naturally assumed she’d eventually want a family, but definitely not in the first year or two following her marriage.

“Did he say who you’re supposed to marry?”

“No. He wouldn’t tell Norah, either, although he seemed to enjoy letting her know she’s going to have six kids. Three boys and three girls, if you can believe it. You don’t really buy any of this, do you?”

His mouth twisted into a wry grin. “That would be ridiculous, only. Never mind,” he finished abruptly.

“No, tell me.”

He shrugged, clearly regretting that he’d said anything. “Another patient of mine, an older woman, had a near-death experience. It was all rather … strange.”

“She came back thinking she knew who her children would marry and how many grandchildren she was going to have?” Valerie asked sarcastically.

“No.” Colby threw her an annoyed glance.

“What happened then?” She was curious now, unable to disguise her interest.

“She seemed to know certain things about the future. She—predicted, I guess is the word—certain political events. She wasn’t entirely sure how she knew, she just did.”

“So what was that all about?”

Colby obviously wasn’t comfortable outlining the details of his patient’s experience. “She didn’t have any more than an eighth-grade education, and she’d never taken much interest in history or politics. But after that near-death phenomenon, she was suddenly able to discuss complicated world problems with genuine insight and skill. She didn’t understand it herself, and I didn’t have any medical explanation to offer her. The whole thing was as much a mystery to me as it was to her.”

Until then, Valerie had to admit, she’d found her father’s experience somewhat … entertaining. She’d been willing to tolerate it, since whatever had happened had been very real to David. This “dreamtime” with her mother had given his life a new purpose, and she was grateful for that, if nothing else.

“What are you saying?” she asked Colby.

“I don’t actually know.”

Suddenly none of this seemed quite as amusing. “Dad insists I’ll be married before the end of the summer.”

“He told me the same thing,” Colby said. “About you, I mean.” He paused. “Is it likely? I mean, is there someone back in Texas you’ve been seeing on a regular basis?” He clasped his hands behind his back and strolled slowly down the corridor. “Someone other than this person you were hoping to start dating soon?”

She puffed out her cheeks, debating how much to tell him about Rowdy Cassidy. “Not really, but …”

“Go on,” he urged.

“My boss, Rowdy Cassidy.” She shifted the spray of apple blossoms, conscious of their heady aroma in the antiseptic-smelling hospital corridor.

“The owner of CHIPS?”

Valerie nodded. “I’ve never gone out on a formal date with him, although until recently we saw each other nearly every day. We’ve often traveled together, and attend business dinners together. It wasn’t until I got here and Dad started talking about you and me marrying that—well, Rowdy seems the natural choice for me. He’s as dedicated to his career as I am and … we get along well.”

“He’s a wealthy man. Prominent in his field.”

“Yes.”

Colby clenched his jaw as though he disapproved.

“Do you know something about Rowdy that I don’t?”

“I’ve never met the man. Everything I know about him I’ve read online or in the papers. But from all outward appearances, the two of you should be an ideal couple.” His words were indifferent. Then without saying anything else, he turned and walked away from her.

“Colby,” Valerie called, once she’d recovered from her initial surprise. She hurried after him. “What’s wrong? You’re acting like I’ve done something to offend you.”

“I’m not angry,” he said, his voice low. His gaze held hers with a disturbing intensity. “I remember what you said yesterday about wondering how we were going to say goodbye. I was just thinking the same thing. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to stand by and watch you marry another man.”

To her the solution was simple. He could marry her himself. But … they’d both already decided that wouldn’t work.

“What about you?” she asked, needing to know. “Is there someone special you’ve been seeing?”

“Yes.”

Her heart felt as if it had done a nosedive, colliding with her stomach. Her face must have revealed her shock because he elaborated.

“Sherry Waterman. I thought Norah might have mentioned her.”

“A nurse?” she guessed.

Colby nodded. “Sherry has her nursing degree and she’s also trained as a midwife. That’s what she’s been doing for the past five years. She’s good with children and she enjoys weaving and gardening.” His voice was brisk and matter-of-fact as he listed Sherry’s qualifications.

“She … sounds exactly right for you.” The aching admission was torn from her throat. Although it was painful to think of Colby with another woman, Valerie knew he’d chosen well in Sherry Waterman. Domestic, talented, perfect in all the ways Valerie wasn’t.

“We’ve been dating for the last year.”

“A year,” Valerie repeated slowly, surprised he hadn’t proposed to Sherry long before now. “You shouldn’t keep her waiting then.”

“I keep telling myself the same thing.”

His words hurt, although Valerie pretended otherwise. “I’m delighted for you, Colby.”

“Rowdy Cassidy will make you a good husband.” His eyes probed hers.

Valerie smiled and nodded, then they both turned and walked in opposite directions. And although she was tempted, she didn’t look back.

Valerie’s cell phone vibrated, and she took the call in the hospital lobby.

“Valerie, it’s Rowdy. Thought I’d check and see how everything’s going with your father. No one’s heard from you in a while.”

When had she last reported into CHIPS headquarters? Two days before, she calculated. Two whole days! Valerie found that hard to believe. Until recently, her job had been all-consuming, but it wasn’t that way now. She’d completely overlooked her work responsibilities, forgotten everything that had once been so important. It seemed impossible that she could have allowed so much time to slip past.

“My father had open-heart surgery.”

“How’s he doing now?”

“Fabulously well. His recovery in the last twenty-four hours has been remarkable.” She didn’t tell him that much of the improvement was a result of a change in attitude. Since his “conversation in the garden” with Grace, David Bloomfield’s will to live was stronger than ever. If there was anything to worry about now, it was the fact that Steffie hadn’t arrived yet and no one had heard from her. Valerie had spent part of the morning calling the airlines to find out which flight she was on, to no avail.

“We miss you around here,” Rowdy said in that casual way of his. Valerie could picture him sitting in his office, leaning back in his plush leather chair, cowboy boots propped on the mahogany desk. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Rowdy without his boots and hat. She always thought of him as the Texan of frontier legend, the man who tackled life with robust energy, who considered no problem insurmountable. He worked hard, played hard and lived hard.

“I miss CHIPS, too.”

“Any idea when you’ll be back?”

“I’m sorry, no, but if you need me because of the Old West Bank deal—”

“No, no,” Rowdy said, breaking in. “We’re handling that from our end, so don’t you worry about a thing. I just wanted you to know I miss you.”

The personal pronoun didn’t escape Valerie’s notice. Rowdy was attracted to her. “My father wanted me to thank you for the flowers,” she said. “Th-they got here yesterday morning.” She’d hardly been aware of it at the time, although the nurses had all exclaimed over the lavish bouquets. Now, she felt flustered and nervous with him, something that had never happened before. Their relationship was moving into new territory, and Valerie found the ground unstable and a bit frightening.

“Actually the flowers were for you. I thought you needed something to brighten up your day.”

“It was very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s the least I could do for my favorite executive. You hurry back, you hear?”

“I will. And, Rowdy, thanks for calling.” She closed her cell phone and let her breath rush out in a deep sigh.

Norah was already in the waiting room when Valerie returned there. “That was Rowdy Cassidy,” she explained unnecessarily.

“Are you in love with him?” Norah asked without preamble. “I thought you and Dr. Winston might be hitting it off, but …”

“Colby’s involved with Sherry Waterman.” Valerie kept her voice steady, making a strenuous effort to feign disinterest.

One glance at Norah told her she hadn’t succeeded. “You’ll recall that I never bothered to mention Sherry. There’s a reason.”

“Oh?” Valerie shrugged. “I wondered … I mean, even Colby seemed to think you had, or rather that you should have.” She’d wanted to ask her sister, but had hesitated, almost preferring not to know.

“Those two have been dating for a year. If Colby was serious about Sherry he would’ve asked her to marry him before now. Even Sherry’s given up on them, although Colby doesn’t seem to have figured that out yet. The last I heard, she was seeing someone else. Not that I blame her,” Norah was quick to add. “It must be the most frustrating thing in the world to be crazy about a guy and have him lukewarm toward you.”

“I’m sure it must be.”

“You still haven’t answered me,” Norah pressed. “What about Rowdy? Are you in love with him?”

Valerie shrugged again, uncomfortable with the subject of her boss, unsure of her own feelings toward him. “Yes and no.”

“You’re beginning to sound like Colby. I think he loves everything Sherry represents. She’s a nurturing, kind-hearted woman. She fits the image of what Colby wants in a wife.”

“Then what’s stopping him?”

Norah gnawed on her lower lip for a moment. “My guess is that she bores him. Don’t get me wrong, Sherry’s not a boring person. Actually when I think about it, Sherry and I are a lot alike. She’s a homebody like me, and little things mean a lot to her. She doesn’t need an active social life or fancy clothes. Given the choice between a stay-at-home date with a rented movie or dining in a world-class restaurant, she’d opt for the movie.”

“I see.”

“You’re much better suited to Colby.”

“Me?” Valerie asked, her voice rising in astonishment. Hadn’t Norah just finished describing the kind of woman Colby wanted—a woman completely unlike Valerie?

“I’ve seen the looks the two of you exchange,” Norah continued thoughtfully. “I’m not blind, you know. I can feel the attraction between you. It’s mutual—and it’s hot.”

“Really,” Valerie said, becoming preoccupied with the crease in her wool trousers.

“Yes, really!”

“Yes, well, I’ll admit we’re attracted to each other, but nothing’s going to come of it.” She glanced at her watch, wanting an excuse to leave. “I’m going to stop in and see Dad.”

Norah’s smile seemed all-knowing. “Okay.”

David Bloomfield’s color was better, and he grinned happily when he saw his eldest daughter.

“Hello, Dad,” she said in a cheerful voice as she leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“Valerie,” he whispered, holding out his hand to her. “Listen, sweetheart, you’re spending too much time at the hospital. Take the day and get out in the sunshine. You’re beginning to look pale.”

“But …”

“It’ll do you good. No more sleeping on some dilapidated couch in the waiting room, either.”

She’d slept in her own bed in her own room for the first time the night before. In the morning, she’d been astonished at how well rested she felt. And she’d indulged in a long, hot shower, followed by a good breakfast—cooked by Norah.

The crews were just beginning to spray the apple trees under the direction of Dale Howard, the orchard manager. She’d heard the familiar sounds of men working in the orchards. It brought back memories of years past, of racing down the long, even rows, and climbing onto the low limbs of the trees, sitting there like a princess surveying her magical kingdom. Orchard Valley was magical, a town set apart.

For Valerie, coming home was like escaping to the past. The people were friendly, the neighbors neighborly, and problems were shared. It was a little piece of heaven.

“I wasn’t at the hospital last night,” she told him, pulling herself out of her musings. She loved Orchard Valley more than any place on earth, but she’d never be satisfied living here. There wasn’t enough challenge, not enough to tax her mind. No, Houston was her future and she accepted that with only one regret. Colby.

“So I heard,” her father answered. “I saw Colby earlier.”

Valerie watched his expression, hoping for—what?—some sign, some indication of her father’s thoughts. And of Colby’s.

There was none.

“Well? What did the good doctor have to say?”

“Nothing much.”

“Did he mention me?” she couldn’t prevent herself from asking.

“Nope, can’t say he did. Does that disappoint you?”

“Of course not.”

“Is there any reason he should mention you?”

Valerie was sorry she’d brought up the subject. “Not that I know of.”

Her answers seemed to make him smile. “So you like my doctor?”

“He’s been wonderful to you,” Valerie said.

“I wasn’t talking about me,” David told her gruffly. “I’m referring to you. You’re attracted to him, aren’t you, Valerie? You were never very good at hiding your feelings.”

“I’ve never met a man who appeals to me more,” Valerie said truthfully. There was no point in trying to deceive her father. He knew her all too well, and he understood her better than anyone, sometimes better than she understood herself.

“He feels the same way?” The question was calm, as though he were speaking to a child.

Valerie lowered her eyes before shaking her head. “It’d never work, and we both know it.”

She expected an argument from her father, was even looking for one. She wanted him to tell her she was wrong, that love could work when two people were committed to each other. That it wouldn’t matter how dissimilar they were, how differently they viewed life. That nothing mattered but the love they shared.

Her father, however, didn’t respond.

Discouraged, Valerie said goodbye and returned to the waiting room. On her way, she saw that Norah sat talking to another doctor at the end of the hallway. She was grateful her sister had left, because she needed time alone to think.

If she wanted evidence that people with very different personalities could fall in love and make the relationship work, she need look no further than her own parents. The story of how they’d met and fallen in love was like a fairy tale, one that, as a child, she’d never tired of hearing.

Her father had gone to university and obtained his degree in business administration. Armed with his dreams, he’d built a financial empire and became a millionaire within a few years. Then he’d collapsed with rheumatic fever, nearly losing his life. While he was in the hospital recuperating, he’d met a young nurse. David knew the moment he met Grace Johnson that he was going to love her. It never occurred to him that she’d refuse his marriage proposal.

Several months of relentless pursuit later, he’d convinced Grace to marry him. Despite the fact that she was deeply in love with David, Grace had been afraid. She was a preacher’s daughter who’d lived a simple life. David was a business tycoon who’d taken automation technology to new industry heights. Grace’s fears about a marriage to David Bloomfield were warranted. But over the years, love had proven even the most hardened skeptics wrong, and the two had lived and loved together until her mother’s death a few years before.

Her own romance wasn’t going to have a fairy-tale ending, the way her parents’ had. Her father knew it, too, otherwise he would’ve been the first to encourage her.

Her father, however, had said nothing.

Valerie was working in the den on her laptop, putting files in order, when she saw the red car hurtle down the driveway. She thought, for one hopeful moment, that it might be Colby, but then remembered he drove a maroon Buick. Still, she hastened to answer the door.

It was Charles Tomaselli, looking tired and frustrated.

“Have you heard from Stephanie?” he demanded without so much as a greeting.

Her sister’s absence had been weighing on Valerie’s mind, too. She’d done everything she could think of; she’d even placed a call to the American Embassy in Rome, with no results.

“I haven’t heard a word. I don’t know what could’ve happened to her.”

“How late is she?”

Valerie had to think for a moment. In the past week, she’d lost all track of time. “Norah was the last person to speak to Steffie,” she explained. “Let me see—that was just before Dad’s surgery. Steffie thought she’d be home within twenty-four hours.”

“That was forty-eight hours ago.”

He didn’t need to remind her, Valerie thought irritably. “She’s coming by way of Tokyo.”

“Tokyo? She’s flying to Oregon via Japan?” Charles snapped.

“I gather she didn’t have much choice.”

“Don’t you think you should be making some inquiries?” he asked gruffly.

“I already have. Tell me who else I should call and I’ll be happy to do so.”

Charles settled down on the top porch step, resting both elbows on his knees. “I have to tell you, Valerie, I’m worried. She should’ve been here before now.”

“I know.”

“I have some friends, some connections,” Charles said absently, “and I’ve checked with them. But they can’t find any trace of her on the flights scheduled out of Rome. If she isn’t here by tomorrow afternoon, I don’t think you have any alternative but to contact the authorities.”

Valerie swallowed tightly, then nodded. She could slap Steff silly for putting them through all this worry.

“She’s okay, Charles,” Valerie said after a moment.

“What makes you so sure?” He turned to look up at her.

“I … don’t know, I just am.”

Charles stood agilely, his gaze leveled on the long narrow driveway that led in from the road. “I hope you’re right, Valerie. I hope you’re right.”

Valerie hoped so, too. And she wondered if his concern for Stephanie meant as much as she thought it did.

Norah came back from the hospital a half hour later, talkative and lively. “I can’t get over how much Dad’s improved in such a short time.”

Valerie took the shrimp salad she’d prepared for their dinner from the refrigerator. Salads were her specialty. That, and folding napkins. She could do both without a hitch.

For the first time since her arrival, Valerie had spent most of the day away from the hospital. When her father had suggested she leave, she’d initially felt a bit annoyed. But as she revisited the life that had once been hers in this quiet community, she accepted the wisdom of his advice. She had needed to get out, to breathe in the serenity she found in Orchard Valley and exhale the fear that had choked her from the moment she’d received Norah’s frantic message. Then, after her walk, she’d come back to the house, and because she’d never been idle in her life, she’d set up a communications center in her father’s den.

“I’m going back to work, starting tomorrow,” Norah announced between bites of lettuce, shrimp and slices of hard-boiled egg. “The hospital’s understaffed, but then when isn’t it? I’ll still be able to see Dad, maybe even more often than before. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course I don’t mind. You do whatever you think best.”

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” Norah asked, rushing the words. “I wouldn’t do this if the hospital didn’t need me so badly.”

“I realize that.”

Norah took another forkful of salad. “You’re quiet tonight. Is anything wrong?”

“Not really.” She didn’t want to worry Norah about Steffie’s disappearance.

“Colby asked about you.”

She felt her stomach churn with contradictory emotions. Part of her was thrilled that he’d even mentioned her, yet she experienced a growing sense of apprehension.

“He wanted to know where you were.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Of course,” Norah answered blithely. “He said he thought it was a good idea for you to get out of the hospital more. You’ve practically been living there ever since you arrived.” She slowly chewed another bite of her salad. “He asked me what I knew about Rowdy Cassidy,” she said.

Valerie put down her fork, her appetite having fled. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth. That I’ve never met the man, but Dad seems to think he’s wonderful. You probably weren’t aware of this, but Dad’s been following CHIPS ever since you started working there. He thinks Rowdy’s a genius. Funny, though—I got the impression that wasn’t what Colby wanted to hear.”

“The shrimp was on sale at Vern’s Market,” Valerie said, changing the subject abruptly, not wanting to talk about Colby. Not now when she felt so vulnerable, so conscious of the attraction between them. “Vern said he cooked it himself this morning.”

“You don’t want to talk about Colby?”

Valerie grinned. Her sister hadn’t graduated magna cum laude for nothing.

“You’re not going anyplace tonight, are you?” Norah asked next.

“I thought I’d drive in to the hospital and visit Dad, but other than that, no. Do you need me to do something?”

Norah shrugged. “I may be wrong, but I think Colby wanted to talk to you. I have a feeling he might call.”

Norah was right.

When Valerie returned from her trip to the hospital, her sister had left a note taped to her bedroom door.

COLBY PHONED. SAID HE’D TALK TO YOU IN THE MORNING.

Valerie read the message with mixed feelings. Thrill and dread went at it for round two, again evenly matched. She determined to forget everything—love, Colby, the future—for tonight. The morning would be soon enough to resume her worries. She craved the forgetfulness of sleep, the escape from thought and feeling.

Valerie had assumed she’d fall asleep with the same ease she had the previous night. For a solid hour she beat her pillow, tossed and turned in an effort to find a comfortable position. Finally giving up, she reached for the light on the bedside table and read until her eyes closed and the business journal slipped from her fingers.

But Valerie’s exhausted sleep wasn’t the restful oblivion she’d longed for. Colby wandered into her dreams like an uninvited guest.

He looked handsome, dressed in the suit he’d worn the night he’d taken her to the Italian restaurant.

“You’re not going to be able to forget me, are you?”

In her dream, Valerie said nothing, but only because she had no argument. She merely stared at him, adoring every feature, every movement.

A noise disturbed her, distracting her from Colby. Irritated, she looked over her shoulder to see what it was and when she looked back, he was gone. She cried out in frustration, the sound of her own voice jerking her awake. She was sitting upright in the bed, heart pounding furiously.

It took her another moment to realize there was some sort of commotion going on downstairs. She climbed out of bed and grabbed her robe.

From the top of the stairs, she saw Norah, laughing and crying at once. A battered suitcase stood on the floor, along with a leather coat and an umbrella.

“Steffie!” Valerie cried excitedly, racing down the stairs.

Her sister was home.

Seven

Colby picked up the clipboard at the foot of David Bloomfield’s bed, scanning the notations the nursing staff had written through the night. Although his eyes were lowered, he couldn’t help being aware of David Bloomfield’s cocky grin.

“You must be feeling more like your old self this morning,” he observed genially.

David’s smile widened. “I’m feeling more chipper each and every day. How much longer do you intend to keep me prisoner here? I’m itching to get home.”

“Another week,” Colby answered, replacing the clipboard. “Perhaps less, depending on how well you do.”

“A week!” David protested. “Are you sure you aren’t holding me up just so you’ll have an excuse to visit with Valerie?”

Colby’s hackles rose, and he was about to defend his medical judgment when he realized the old man was baiting him—and enjoying it.

“I’m going to have you transferred out of the Surgical Intensive Care Unit this morning,” Colby continued, “but first I want you up and walking.”

“I’ve been up.”

Colby glanced back at the chart, surprised to see no indication of the activity.

“I just didn’t let anyone know. I felt a bit dizzy, so I only walked around the bed. Not much of a trip, but it tired me out plenty.”

“You’re not to get out of this bed again unless there’s someone with you, understand?” He used his sternest voice.

“All right, all right,” David agreed. Stroking his chin, he studied Colby. “She’s pretty as a picture, that oldest daughter of mine. Isn’t she, Doc?”

Colby ignored both the comment and the question. “I’ll have one of the physio staff come down in a few minutes and we’ll see how well you do with your exercises. I imagine that by this afternoon you’ll have conquered the hallway.”

“From what I hear, that Rowdy Cassidy’s been calling her two, three times a day.”

Colby stiffened at the mention of the other man’s name. He’d tried to tell himself that Valerie would be happier married to Cassidy. They shared the same attitudes, beliefs and ambitions; together they’d take the business world by storm. Rowdy was exactly the type of dynamic personality who’d help Valerie fulfill her goals and dreams. She’d never be content as a physician’s wife, he told himself again. Nevertheless, he was having trouble accepting the obvious.

He’d never thought of himself as romantic. His career had consumed his life from the time he was a high-school sophomore. His much-loved grandfather had died of heart disease, and it was then that Colby had decided to become a doctor. Everything else had been subordinated to that goal. Only in the past year or so had he felt the desire to marry and start a family.

He’d acted upon that desire with methodical thoroughness, mentally tabulating a list of his wants and needs. He’d looked around at the single women in Orchard Valley and decided to date Sherry Waterman. If things didn’t work out with Sherry, Norah Bloomfield was next on his list, although he was concerned about their age difference.

Things had worked out with Sherry, at least in the beginning. He’d found her refreshing and genuine and fun. Problems crept up later, when he discovered that she was entirely predictable. Involved with a woman who embodied every trait he wanted in his life’s partner, he’d been … bored. He wasn’t sure anymore that he needed someone quite so even-tempered and domestic.

According to the schedule he’d set for himself, he should have been married by now.

He wasn’t.

To irritate him further, the only woman he’d been strongly attracted to in the past year was Valerie Bloomfield, and anyone with a lick of sense could see they weren’t the least bit compatible.

For months, long before his heart attack, David Bloomfield had found excuses to drag his oldest daughter’s name into their conversations. By the time he met Valerie, Colby was thoroughly sick of hearing about her. He hadn’t even expected to like her. Instead, his heart and his head had been spinning out of control from that first moment.

It was time to put an end to such nonsense, before either of them took this attraction business too seriously.

“Cassidy would be a good match for a woman like Valerie,” he said as offhandedly as he could. The last thing he wanted was for Valerie’s father to know how attracted he was to her, although he suspected David already knew. The old man seemed to have a sixth sense about things like this.

“Rowdy will, at that,” David returned matter-of-factly. “I should know, too.” The cocky grin was back in place.

Colby’s chest tightened, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. David hadn’t referred to his dream lately, the one he’d termed his near-death experience. But from bits and pieces of conversation, Colby had learned that David was still predicting Valerie’s wedding. It made sense that the man he expected her to marry was Rowdy Cassidy.

All the better. He—

“Stephanie’s home,” David said conversationally, cutting into Colby’s thoughts. “I saw her briefly this morning. What a lovely sight she was to these tired old eyes.”

Colby nodded, finding it difficult to dispel the image of Valerie married to her employer. Well, he’d better get used to the idea, because it was likely to happen soon. And because he refused to deliberately ruin his life by marrying the wrong woman.

He’d call Sherry this afternoon, Colby decided with renewed determination, and ask her out to dinner. One thing was certain; he intended to steer clear of Valerie Bloomfield, regardless of how hard that was.

So much for the best laid plans, Colby mused as he left the Surgical Intensive Care Unit. Valerie was standing in the corridor waiting for him. As always, when he saw her, his heart was gladdened. An old-fashioned expression, perhaps, but he didn’t know how else to describe what he felt when he was with Valerie.

He remembered the time he’d sought her out after losing Joanna Murphy. Just being with her had taken the sharp edge off the pain of that unexpected death, had helped him deal with the frustration, the sense of powerlessness. When she’d suggested coffee, his first inclination had been to refuse, but he’d found he couldn’t. Sharing his concerns with her had, in some indefinable way, comforted him.

It seemed to him that their conversation had helped her, too, in coming to terms with her father’s illness.

They’d helped each other. In thinking about those moments together, Colby understood why he couldn’t simply dismiss his fascination with her as sexual attraction. That was part of it, all right. But more than any woman he’d ever known, Valerie Bloomfield was his equal. In intelligence, in emotional strength, in commitment to those she loved.

Every time Colby had been with her since, he experienced an elation, a small joy that left him feeling bewildered. Left him wanting to be with her even more. Yet he knew he couldn’t afford to pursue a relationship that had no chance of lasting.

“You wanted to see me?” Valerie asked, her eyes meeting his expectantly.

He frowned and shook his head. “No.”

“Norah left a note for me last night, saying you’d phoned.”

“Oh, that. It was nothing.” He wanted to kick himself for that phone call now. He’d been looking for a reason to talk to her. His day had been long and tiring, and his defenses down, so he’d made up an excuse to hear the sound of her voice.

“I just wanted to tell you I’m transferring your father from SICU this morning,” he went on quickly. “His progress has been nothing short of remarkable. If it continues like this, he’ll be out of the hospital inside a week.”

Valerie’s eyes sparkled with relief. “That’s wonderful news! It seems everything’s happening at once. I don’t know if you heard, but Steffie got home last night.”

“So I understand.” Colby watched her closely. Although she said nothing else, he realized that something was troubling Valerie. Her brow had furrowed, ever so briefly, when she mentioned her sister’s name. Colby suspected she wasn’t aware of the tiny, telltale action.

“Something going on with your sister?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, just now. She was sitting in the waiting room reading a copy of the Clarion when she jumped to her feet, demanding to know if I’d read it. Before I could say anything, she dashed out, taking the paper with her. I can’t remember ever seeing Steffie so angry. I’m not sure what got into her, but I’m guessing it has to do with Charles Tomaselli.”

“I’m sure she’ll tell you eventually.”

“I’m sure she will, too, although I have a feeling this is connected to an article he wrote with Dad’s help. I just don’t understand what she found so offensive. I read it and I didn’t see any problem. Those two can’t seem to get along. They never could. It’s always surprised me, because she seemed to be so keen on him and I was beginning to think he felt the same way.”

The temptation to linger, even to suggest they have coffee together, was overwhelming, but Colby resisted. He was doing a lot of that where Valerie was concerned. Resisting. He only hoped his willpower held firm until she went back to Texas—and to Cassidy—where she belonged.

“Valerie,” Steffie said, standing in the doorway outside Valerie’s bedroom. “Have you got a moment?”

“Sure.” Valerie was sitting up in bed reading, but her mind wasn’t on the latest computer technology she’d had every intention of studying. With infuriating frequency, her thoughts drifted away from high resolution monitors and narrowed in on Colby. She welcomed her sister’s visit, not least as a distraction.

Steffie crossed the room and sat on the edge of Valerie’s bed. “I made a complete fool of myself this morning,” she said, her eyes downcast.

Valerie waited for her to explain, but further details didn’t seem to be forthcoming. Her curiosity was aroused, but she didn’t want to pry.

“With Charles,” Steffie finally said, drawing her knees up and circling them with her arms. “It isn’t the first time, either. He’s the one person in the world I swore I’d never speak to again and then, the first few hours I’m home, I make an idiot of myself over him.”

Valerie set aside her business journal and drew up her own knees. “He’s been worried about you.”

“You’ve talked to him? When? What did he say?” Steffie’s head came up. Her long dark hair fell to the middle of her back, and her eyes probed Valerie’s. Although Steff was almost twenty-seven, she looked closer to eighteen. Especially now, when she felt so embarrassed.

“Charles asked about you shortly after I got home, and later he was concerned because you didn’t arrive when we expected you. Apparently he made some inquiries, trying to track you down. Both Norah and I were so caught up in what was happening with Dad that we weren’t as worried about your late appearance as we should’ve been. Charles, however, seemed terribly anxious.”

“He was just hoping I’d get home in time to make an idiot of myself, which I did.”

Valerie thought that was unfair of Steffie. “Charles has been wonderful,” she protested, still wondering exactly what Stephanie had done.

“To you and Norah. I’m the one he can’t get along with.” Steffie’s shoulders rose as she gave a deep, heartfelt sigh. “How do you know when you’re in love, really in love?” she asked plaintively.

Their mother should be the one answering that question. Not Valerie. She hadn’t figured out her relationships with Colby or Rowdy. Bemused, she shook her head. She could outsmart the competition, put together some of the biggest deals in the industry, but she didn’t know how to tell if she was in love.

“I wish I could answer that,” Valerie said quietly. “I know next to nothing about love. I was sort of hoping you’d be able to enlighten me.”

Steffie frowned. “Don’t tell me we’re going to have to talk to Norah about this.”

“We can’t,” Valerie said, then started to laugh.

“What’s so funny? Listen, Val, this isn’t a time for humor, or even pride. If Norah knows more than we do, which she probably does, then we should forget she’s the youngest and come right out and ask her.”

“We can’t ask Norah about love, because she isn’t here,” Valerie said. “She’s on a date.”

Steffie started to laugh, too, not because it was particularly funny, but because it was a rare moment of shared closeness.

“Reading between the lines of your letters, I assumed you’d fallen in love with your boss,” she said next. “You never said as much, but the two of you seemed to be spending a lot of time together.”

“I think I might’ve been half in love with him until I met Colby.”

“Dad’s heart doctor?”

Valerie nodded. “When I first got home, Dad was fully expecting to die. He actually seemed to be looking forward to it, which annoyed everyone. Although not being able to get home must have been a nightmare for you, it might be the one thing that kept him hanging on as long as he did.”

“You’re sidestepping the issue. Tell me about Colby.”

“It started with Dad’s matchmaking efforts, which I found rather amusing and Colby found utterly frustrating, but then as we got to know each other we realized there was a spark.” More of a blowtorch than a spark, really, but she wasn’t going to say that.

“If you’re in love with Colby, then why do you look like you’re going to cry?”

“Because we both know it wouldn’t work. He’s a small-town doctor, who also lectures at Portland University. Although he could practice anywhere, he wants to stay right here in Orchard Valley.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t think I could be happy here,” Valerie said miserably. “Not anymore. And there are other problems, too….”

“But if you truly loved each other, you’d be able to find a solution to your differences.”

“That’s just it. I don’t know if this is love, and I don’t think Colby does, either. Everything would be much easier if we did.”

“Yes, but if he’s the right person …”

“I don’t know. I’m attracted to him. I think about him constantly, but is that enough for me to forsake all my ambitions? Give up my career? I don’t know,” she said again, “and it’s got me tied up in knots. How do I decide? And if I did quit CHIPS and found some other job around here, how do I know I wouldn’t resent him five years down the road? How do I know he wouldn’t end up resenting me for not being a more traditional kind of woman—which is what he wants? Besides, even if I do love Colby, how can I be sure he feels the same way about me?”

“I wish Mom was here.”

“So do I,” Valerie said fervently. “Oh, Steffie, so do I.”

Valerie didn’t see Colby for several days. Four, to be exact. As her father’s health improved, she spent less and less time at the hospital, therefore decreasing her chances of casually running into him. She was working out of the house, and that helped. Being in a familiar place, doing familiar tasks, allayed her fears and tempered her frustrations.

She knew she should think about returning to Texas. The crisis had passed, and by remaining in Orchard Valley she was creating one of a different sort. CHIPS, Inc., needed her. Rowdy Cassidy needed her. She’d already missed one important business trip, and although Rowdy had encouraged her to stay in Orchard Valley as long as necessary, he’d also let her know he was looking forward to her return.

Valerie had almost run out of excuses for staying in Oregon. Her father was going to be discharged in record time and Valerie, with her two sisters, planned a celebration dinner that included Colby.

She was surprised he’d accepted the invitation. Surprised and pleased. She was hungry for the sight of him. He was in her thoughts constantly, and she wondered if it was the same for him.

All afternoon, she’d been feeling like a schoolgirl. Excited and nearly giddy at the prospect of her father’s homecoming—especially since Colby would be driving him back.

Norah had been in the kitchen most of the afternoon, with Stephanie as her assistant. Since Valerie’s culinary skills were limited to salad preparation and napkin folding, she’d been assigned both jobs, along with setting the table.

“What time is it?” Steffie called from the kitchen.

Valerie, who was carefully arranging their best china on the dining-room table, shot a glance at the grandfather clock. “Five.”

“They’re due in less than thirty minutes.”

“Do I detect a note of panic?” Valerie teased.

“Dinner isn’t even close to being done,” Steffie told her.

They’d chosen a menu that included none of their father’s favorites. David Bloomfield was a meat-and-potatoes man, but that was all about to change. Colby had been very definite about that. From now on, David would be a low-choles-terol-and-high-fiber man.

“The table’s set,” Valerie informed the others. As far as she knew, it was the first time they’d brought out the good china since their mother’s death. But their father’s welcome-home dinner warranted using the very best.

Fifteen minutes later, Valerie glanced out the living-room window to see Colby’s maroon car coming down the long driveway. “They’re here!” she shouted, hurrying to the front porch, barely able to contain her excitement.

This moment seemed like a miracle to her. She’d come to accept that she was going to lose her father, and now he’d been given a second chance at life. This was so much more than she’d dared hope.

Steffie and Norah joined her on the porch. Colby climbed out of the car first and came around to assist David. It was all Valerie could do not to rush down the steps and help him herself. Although her father had made phenomenal progress in the eight days since his surgery, he remained terribly pale and thinner than she’d ever seen him. But his eyes glowed with obvious pride and satisfaction as he looked at his three daughters.

He turned to Colby and said something Valerie couldn’t hear. Whatever it was made Colby’s eyes dart toward Valerie. She met his gaze, all too briefly, then they looked hurriedly away from each other, as though embarrassed to be caught staring.

“I’m afraid dinner’s not quite ready,” Norah said as Colby eased David into his recliner by the fireplace.

“I’ve been waiting two weeks for a decent meal,” David grumbled. “Hospital food doesn’t sit well with me. I hope you’ve outdone yourself.”

“I have,” Norah promised, smiling at Valerie. Their father wasn’t expecting poached salmon and dill sauce with salad and rice, but he’d adjust to healthier eating habits soon enough.

“Can I get you anything, Dad?” Valerie asked, assuming he’d request the paper or a cup of coffee.

“Walk down and see if the Howard boy is still in the orchard, would you, Val?”

“Of course, but I don’t think you should worry about the orchard now.”

“I’m not worried. I just want to know what’s been going on while I was laid up. I promise I’m not going to overdo it. Colby wouldn’t let me. I tried to die three times, but he was right there making sure I didn’t. You don’t think I’d want to ruin all that work, do you?”

Valerie grinned. “All right, I’ll check and see if the foreman’s still around.”

“Colby,” David said, raising his index finger imperiously, “you go with her. I don’t want her walking in the orchard alone.”

The request was a shamefully blatant excuse to throw them together, but neither complained.

Colby followed her out the front door and down the porch steps. “You don’t need to come,” she said, looking up at him. “I’ve been walking through these orchards since I was a toddler. I won’t get lost.”

“I know that.”

“Dad was just inventing a way for us to be alone.”

“I know that, too. He told me while we were driving here that he intended to do this.”

“But why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yes, but …” Her father had hinted more than once that he anticipated a prompt wedding between her and Rowdy Cassidy. He’d apparently dropped the idea of her marrying Colby—so did he want her to clarify that in person? He seemed downright delighted at the prospect of Rowdy as a son-in-law, talking about her marriage as if it were a foregone conclusion.

“How have you been?” Colby asked. They strolled in the late-afternoon sunshine toward the west side of the orchard, where the equipment was kept. There was a small office in the storage building, as well, and if Dale Howard was still in the orchard that was the most likely place to find him.

“I’ve been fine. And you?” Valerie could tell him the truth about her feelings or she could tell him a half-truth. She chose the truth. “I’ve missed you.”

Colby clasped his hands behind his back, as she’d seen him do before. It might have been wishful thinking on her part, but Valerie thought he did so in an effort to keep from touching her.

“I understand your boss is calling you every day,” he said stiffly.

“I understand you took Sherry Waterman out to dinner this week,” she retorted.

“It didn’t help,” he muttered. “The whole time we were together I kept thinking I’d rather be with you. Is that what you were hoping to hear?”

Valerie dropped her gaze to the dirt beneath her feet. “No, but I’ll admit I’m glad.”

“This isn’t going to work.”

How rigid his words sounded, as though he was holding himself in check, but finding it more and more difficult. “What isn’t?”

“You … being here.”

“Here? You didn’t have to come with me! I’ve already explained that I’m perfectly capable of finding my way—”

“CHIPS stock went up two dollars a share last week.”

Colby was leaping from one subject to the next. “That’s great,” she said cautiously. “I’m sure Rowdy’s thrilled.”

“You should be, too.”

“As a stockholder myself I am, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Houston is where you belong, with Rowdy Cassidy and all his millions.”

Rowdy had been telling her the same thing. Not in quite the same words, but he wanted her in Texas. With him. Not a day passed that he didn’t let her know how much he missed her. Rowdy wasn’t romantic; fancy words weren’t his forte. He was as straightforward as Valerie herself. He missed her, he said, missed the time they spent together and the discussions they’d shared. He hadn’t realized how much until she’d left.

“When are you going back?” Colby demanded.

Valerie understood that this was the whole purpose of their being alone together. This was the reason he’d fallen in with her father’s schemes and had walked in the orchard with her. He wanted her out of Orchard Valley and out of his life.

“Soon,” she promised, and her voice cracked with pain. The intensity of it took her by surprise; embarrassed, she increased her pace to a half trot, wanting to escape.

“Valerie.” His voice came from behind her.

“No, please … You’re right. I’ll—” She wasn’t allowed to finish her thought. Colby caught her by the upper arm and turned her to face him, bringing her into his warm embrace.

He took her wrists and placed them around his neck as though she were a rag doll, then circled her waist with his arms and brought her tight against him. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, his mouth was on hers.

Valerie felt as though she’d drown in the sheer ecstasy of being in his arms again. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to feel so right, so good. His mouth was eager and she opened to him as naturally as a flower to the sun.

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