Kitabı oku: «Summer in Orchard Valley: Valerie / Stephanie / Norah»

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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’

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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.