Orchard Valley Grooms (7 page)

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

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

There was none.

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

“Nothing much.”

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

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

“Of course not.”

“Is there any reason he
should
mention you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her father, however, didn’t respond.

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

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

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

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

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

Her father, however, had said nothing.

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

It was Charles Tomaselli, looking tired and frustrated.

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

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

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

“How late
is
she?”

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

“That was forty-eight hours ago.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

“I…don’t know, I just am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I realize that.”

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

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

“Colby asked about you.”

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

“He wanted to know where you were.”

“Did you tell him?”

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

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

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

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

“You don’t want to talk about Colby?”

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

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

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

Norah shrugged. “I may be wrong, but I think Colby wanted to talk to you. I have a feeling he might call.”

Norah was right.

When Valerie returned from her trip to the hospital, her sister had left a note taped to her bedroom door.

COLBY PHONED. SAID HE’D TALK TO YOU IN THE MORNING.

Valerie read the message with mixed feelings. Thrill and dread went at it for round two, again evenly matched. She determined to forget everything—love, Colby, the future—for tonight. The morning would be soon enough to resume her worries. She craved the forgetfulness of sleep, the escape from thought and feeling.

Valerie had assumed she’d fall asleep with the same ease she had the previous night. For a solid hour she beat her pillow, tossed and turned in an effort to find a comfortable position. Finally giving up, she reached for the light on the bedside table and read until her eyes closed and the business journal slipped from her fingers.

But Valerie’s exhausted sleep wasn’t the restful
oblivion she’d longed for. Colby wandered into her dreams like an uninvited guest.

He looked handsome, dressed in the suit he’d worn the night he’d taken her to the Italian restaurant.

“You’re not going to be able to forget me, are you?”

In her dream, Valerie said nothing, but only because she had no argument. She merely stared at him, adoring every feature, every movement.

A noise disturbed her, distracting her from Colby. Irritated, she looked over her shoulder to see what it was and when she looked back, he was gone. She cried out in frustration, the sound of her own voice jerking her awake. She was sitting upright in the bed, heart pounding furiously.

It took her another moment to realize there was some sort of commotion going on downstairs. She climbed out of bed and grabbed her robe.

From the top of the stairs, she saw Norah, laughing and crying at once. A battered suitcase stood on the floor, along with a leather coat and an umbrella.

“Steffie!” Valerie cried excitedly, racing down the stairs.

Her sister was home.

C
olby picked up the clipboard at the foot of David Bloomfield’s bed, scanning the notations the nursing staff had written through the night. Although his eyes were lowered, he couldn’t help being aware of David Bloomfield’s cocky grin.

“You must be feeling more like your old self this morning,” he observed genially.

David’s smile widened. “I’m feeling more chipper each and every day. How much longer do you intend to keep me prisoner here? I’m itching to get home.”

“Another week,” Colby answered, replacing the clipboard. “Perhaps less, depending on how well you do.”

“A week!” David protested. “Are you sure you aren’t holding me up just so you’ll have an excuse to visit with Valerie?”

Colby’s hackles rose, and he was about to defend his
medical judgment when he realized the old man was baiting him—and enjoying it.

“I’m going to have you transferred out of the Surgical Intensive Care Unit this morning,” Colby continued, “but first I want you up and walking.”

“I’ve been up.”

Colby glanced back at the chart, surprised to see no indication of the activity.

“I just didn’t let anyone know. I felt a bit dizzy, so I only walked around the bed. Not much of a trip, but it tired me out plenty.”

“You’re not to get out of this bed again unless there’s someone with you, understand?” He used his sternest voice.

“All right, all right,” David agreed. Stroking his chin, he studied Colby. “She’s pretty as a picture, that oldest daughter of mine. Isn’t she, Doc?”

Colby ignored both the comment and the question. “I’ll have one of the physio staff come down in a few minutes and we’ll see how well you do with your exercises. I imagine that by this afternoon you’ll have conquered the hallway.”

“From what I hear, that Rowdy Cassidy’s been calling her two, three times a day.”

Colby stiffened at the mention of the other man’s name. He’d tried to tell himself that Valerie would be happier married to Cassidy. They shared the same attitudes, beliefs and ambitions; together they’d take the business world by storm. Rowdy was exactly the type
of dynamic personality who’d help Valerie fulfill her goals and dreams. She’d never be content as a physician’s wife, he told himself again. Nevertheless, he was having trouble accepting the obvious.

He’d never thought of himself as romantic. His career had consumed his life from the time he was a high-school sophomore. His much-loved grandfather had died of heart disease, and it was then that Colby had decided to become a doctor. Everything else had been subordinated to that goal. Only in the past year or so had he felt the desire to marry and start a family.

He’d acted upon that desire with methodical thoroughness, mentally tabulating a list of his wants and needs. He’d looked around at the single women in Orchard Valley and decided to date Sherry Waterman. If things didn’t work out with Sherry, Norah Bloomfield was next on his list, although he was concerned about their age difference.

Things
had
worked out with Sherry, at least in the beginning. He’d found her refreshing and genuine and fun. Problems crept up later, when he discovered that she was entirely predictable. Involved with a woman who embodied every trait he wanted in his life’s partner, he’d been…bored. He wasn’t sure anymore that he needed someone quite so even-tempered and domestic.

According to the schedule he’d set for himself, he should have been married by now.

He wasn’t.

To irritate him further, the only woman he’d been
strongly attracted to in the past year was Valerie Bloomfield, and anyone with a lick of sense could see they weren’t the least bit compatible.

For months, long before his heart attack, David Bloomfield had found excuses to drag his oldest daughter’s name into their conversations. By the time he met Valerie, Colby was thoroughly sick of hearing about her. He hadn’t even expected to
like
her. Instead, his heart and his head had been spinning out of control from that first moment.

It was time to put an end to such nonsense, before either of them took this attraction business too seriously.

“Cassidy would be a good match for a woman like Valerie,” he said as offhandedly as he could. The last thing he wanted was for Valerie’s father to know how attracted he was to her, although he suspected David already knew. The old man seemed to have a sixth sense about things like this.

“Rowdy will, at that,” David returned matter-of-factly. “I should know, too.” The cocky grin was back in place.

Colby’s chest tightened, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. David hadn’t referred to his dream lately, the one he’d termed his near-death experience. But from bits and pieces of conversation, Colby had learned that David was still predicting Valerie’s wedding. It made sense that the man he expected her to marry was Rowdy Cassidy.

All the better. He—

“Stephanie’s home,” David said conversationally, cutting into Colby’s thoughts. “I saw her briefly this
morning. What a lovely sight she was to these tired old eyes.”

Colby nodded, finding it difficult to dispel the image of Valerie married to her employer. Well, he’d better get used to the idea, because it was likely to happen soon. And because he refused to deliberately ruin his life by marrying the wrong woman.

He’d call Sherry this afternoon, Colby decided with renewed determination, and ask her out to dinner. One thing was certain; he intended to steer clear of Valerie Bloomfield, regardless of how hard that was.

So much for the best laid plans, Colby mused as he left the Surgical Intensive Care Unit. Valerie was standing in the corridor waiting for him. As always, when he saw her, his heart was gladdened. An old-fashioned expression, perhaps, but he didn’t know how else to describe what he felt when he was with Valerie.

He remembered the time he’d sought her out after losing Joanna Murphy. Just being with her had taken the sharp edge off the pain of that unexpected death, had helped him deal with the frustration, the sense of powerlessness. When she’d suggested coffee, his first inclination had been to refuse, but he’d found he couldn’t. Sharing his concerns with her had, in some indefinable way, comforted him.

It seemed to him that their conversation had helped her, too, in coming to terms with her father’s illness.

They’d helped each other. In thinking about those moments together, Colby understood why he couldn’t
simply dismiss his fascination with her as sexual attraction. That was part of it, all right. But more than any woman he’d ever known, Valerie Bloomfield was his equal. In intelligence, in emotional strength, in commitment to those she loved.

Every time Colby had been with her since, he experienced an elation, a small joy that left him feeling bewildered. Left him wanting to be with her even more. Yet he knew he couldn’t afford to pursue a relationship that had no chance of lasting.

“You wanted to see me?” Valerie asked, her eyes meeting his expectantly.

He frowned and shook his head. “No.”

“Norah left a note for me last night, saying you’d phoned.”

“Oh, that. It was nothing.” He wanted to kick himself for that phone call now. He’d been looking for a reason to talk to her. His day had been long and tiring, and his defenses down, so he’d made up an excuse to hear the sound of her voice.

“I just wanted to tell you I’m transferring your father from SICU this morning,” he went on quickly. “His progress has been nothing short of remarkable. If it continues like this, he’ll be out of the hospital inside a week.”

Valerie’s eyes sparkled with relief. “That’s wonderful news! It seems everything’s happening at once. I don’t know if you heard, but Steffie got home last night.”

“So I understand.” Colby watched her closely. Although she said nothing else, he realized that something
was troubling Valerie. Her brow had furrowed, ever so briefly, when she mentioned her sister’s name. Colby suspected she wasn’t aware of the tiny, telltale action.

“Something going on with your sister?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, just now. She was sitting in the waiting room reading a copy of the
Clarion
when she jumped to her feet, demanding to know if I’d read it. Before I could say anything, she dashed out, taking the paper with her. I can’t remember ever seeing Steffie so angry. I’m not sure what got into her, but I’m guessing it has to do with Charles Tomaselli.”

“I’m sure she’ll tell you eventually.”

“I’m sure she will, too, although I have a feeling this is connected to an article he wrote with Dad’s help. I just don’t understand what she found so offensive. I read it and I didn’t see any problem. Those two can’t seem to get along. They never could. It’s always surprised me, because she seemed to be so keen on him and I was beginning to think he felt the same way.”

The temptation to linger, even to suggest they have coffee together, was overwhelming, but Colby resisted. He was doing a lot of that where Valerie was concerned. Resisting. He only hoped his willpower held firm until she went back to Texas—and to Cassidy—where she belonged.

“Valerie,” Steffie said, standing in the doorway outside Valerie’s bedroom. “Have you got a moment?”

“Sure.” Valerie was sitting up in bed reading, but her
mind wasn’t on the latest computer technology she’d had every intention of studying. With infuriating frequency, her thoughts drifted away from high resolution monitors and narrowed in on Colby. She welcomed her sister’s visit, not least as a distraction.

Steffie crossed the room and sat on the edge of Valerie’s bed. “I made a complete fool of myself this morning,” she said, her eyes downcast.

Valerie waited for her to explain, but further details didn’t seem to be forthcoming. Her curiosity was aroused, but she didn’t want to pry.

“With Charles,” Steffie finally said, drawing her knees up and circling them with her arms. “It isn’t the first time, either. He’s the one person in the world I swore I’d never speak to again and then, the first few hours I’m home, I make an idiot of myself over him.”

Valerie set aside her business journal and drew up her own knees. “He’s been worried about you.”

“You’ve talked to him? When? What did he say?” Steffie’s head came up. Her long dark hair fell to the middle of her back, and her eyes probed Valerie’s. Although Steff was almost twenty-seven, she looked closer to eighteen. Especially now, when she felt so embarrassed.

“Charles asked about you shortly after I got home, and later he was concerned because you didn’t arrive when we expected you. Apparently he made some inquiries, trying to track you down. Both Norah and I were so caught up in what was happening with Dad that we weren’t as worried
about your late appearance as we should’ve been. Charles, however, seemed terribly anxious.”

“He was just hoping I’d get home in time to make an idiot of myself, which I did.”

Valerie thought that was unfair of Steffie. “Charles has been wonderful,” she protested, still wondering exactly what Stephanie had done.

“To you and Norah. I’m the one he can’t get along with.” Steffie’s shoulders rose as she gave a deep, heartfelt sigh. “How do you know when you’re in love, really in love?” she asked plaintively.

Their mother should be the one answering that question. Not Valerie. She hadn’t figured out her relationships with Colby
or
Rowdy. Bemused, she shook her head. She could outsmart the competition, put together some of the biggest deals in the industry, but she didn’t know how to tell if she was in love.

“I wish I could answer that,” Valerie said quietly. “I know next to nothing about love. I was sort of hoping
you’d
be able to enlighten
me.
”

Steffie frowned. “Don’t tell me we’re going to have to talk to Norah about this.”

“We can’t,” Valerie said, then started to laugh.

“What’s so funny? Listen, Val, this isn’t a time for humor, or even pride. If Norah knows more than we do, which she probably does, then we should forget she’s the youngest and come right out and ask her.”

“We can’t ask Norah about love, because she isn’t here,” Valerie said. “She’s on a date.”

Steffie started to laugh, too, not because it was particularly funny, but because it was a rare moment of shared closeness.

“Reading between the lines of your letters, I assumed you’d fallen in love with your boss,” she said next. “You never said as much, but the two of you seemed to be spending a lot of time together.”

“I think I might’ve been half in love with him until I met Colby.”

“Dad’s heart doctor?”

Valerie nodded. “When I first got home, Dad was fully expecting to die. He actually seemed to be looking forward to it, which annoyed everyone. Although not being able to get home must have been a nightmare for you, it might be the one thing that kept him hanging on as long as he did.”

“You’re sidestepping the issue. Tell me about Colby.”

“It started with Dad’s matchmaking efforts, which I found rather amusing and Colby found utterly frustrating, but then as we got to know each other we realized there was a spark.” More of a blowtorch than a spark, really, but she wasn’t going to say that.

“If you’re in love with Colby, then why do you look like you’re going to cry?”

“Because we both know it wouldn’t work. He’s a small-town doctor, who also lectures at Portland University. Although he could practice anywhere, he wants to stay right here in Orchard Valley.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t think I could be happy here,” Valerie said miserably. “Not anymore. And there are other problems, too….”

“But if you truly loved each other, you’d be able to find a solution to your differences.”

“That’s just it. I don’t know if this
is
love, and I don’t think Colby does, either. Everything would be much easier if we did.”

“Yes, but if he’s the right person…”

“I don’t know. I’m attracted to him. I think about him constantly, but is that enough for me to forsake all my ambitions? Give up my career? I don’t know,” she said again, “and it’s got me tied up in knots. How do I decide? And if I
did
quit CHIPS and found some other job around here, how do I know I wouldn’t resent him five years down the road? How do I know he wouldn’t end up resenting
me
for not being a more traditional kind of woman—which is what he wants? Besides, even if I do love Colby, how can I be sure he feels the same way about me?”