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Authors: Debbie Macomber

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“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

“M
arried 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 school-friends, 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?”

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