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“He’s a wealthy man. Prominent in his field.”
“Yes.”
Colby clenched his jaw as though he disapproved.
“Do you know something about Rowdy that I don’t?”
“I’ve never met the man. Everything I know about him I’ve read online or in the papers. But from all outward appearances, the two of you should be an ideal couple.” His words were indifferent. Then without saying anything else, he turned and walked away from her.
“Colby,” Valerie called, once she’d recovered from her initial surprise. She hurried after him. “What’s wrong? You’re acting like I’ve done something to offend you.”
“I’m not angry,” he said, his voice low. His gaze held hers with a disturbing intensity. “I remember what you said yesterday about wondering how we were going to say goodbye. I was just thinking the same thing. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to stand by and watch you marry another man.”
To her the solution was simple. He could marry her himself. But … they’d both already decided that wouldn’t work.
“What about you?” she asked, needing to know. “Is there someone special you’ve been seeing?”
“Yes.”
Her heart felt as if it had done a nosedive, colliding with her stomach. Her face must have revealed her shock because he elaborated.
“Sherry Waterman. I thought Norah might have mentioned her.”
“A nurse?” she guessed.
Colby nodded. “Sherry has her nursing degree and she’s also trained as a midwife. That’s what she’s been doing for the past five years. She’s good with children and she enjoys weaving and gardening.” His voice was brisk and matter-of-fact as he listed Sherry’s qualifications.
“She … sounds exactly right for you.” The aching admission was torn from her throat. Although it was painful to think of Colby with another woman, Valerie knew he’d chosen well in Sherry Waterman. Domestic, talented, perfect in all the ways Valerie wasn’t.
“We’ve been dating for the last year.”
“A year,” Valerie repeated slowly, surprised he hadn’t proposed to Sherry long before now. “You shouldn’t keep her waiting then.”
“I keep telling myself the same thing.”
His words hurt, although Valerie pretended otherwise. “I’m delighted for you, Colby.”
“Rowdy Cassidy will make you a good husband.” His eyes probed hers.
Valerie smiled and nodded, then they both turned and walked in opposite directions. And although she was tempted, she didn’t look back.
Valerie’s cell phone vibrated, and she took the call in the hospital lobby.
“Valerie, it’s Rowdy. Thought I’d check and see how everything’s going with your father. No one’s heard from you in a while.”
When had she last reported into CHIPS headquarters? Two days before, she calculated. Two whole days! Valerie found that hard to believe. Until recently, her job had been all-consuming, but it wasn’t that way now. She’d completely overlooked her work responsibilities, forgotten everything that had once been so important. It seemed impossible that she could have allowed so much time to slip past.
“My father had open-heart surgery.”
“How’s he doing now?”
“Fabulously well. His recovery in the last twenty-four hours has been remarkable.” She didn’t tell him that much of the improvement was a result of a change in attitude. Since his “conversation in the garden” with Grace, David Bloomfield’s will to live was stronger than ever. If there was anything to worry about now, it was the fact that Steffie hadn’t arrived yet and no one had heard from her. Valerie had spent part of the morning calling the airlines to find out which flight she was on, to no avail.
“We miss you around here,” Rowdy said in that casual way of his. Valerie could picture him sitting in his office, leaning back in his plush leather chair, cowboy boots propped on the mahogany desk. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Rowdy without his boots and hat. She always thought of him as the Texan of frontier legend, the man who tackled life with robust energy, who considered no problem insurmountable. He worked hard, played hard and lived hard.
“I miss CHIPS, too.”
“Any idea when you’ll be back?”
“I’m sorry, no, but if you need me because of the Old West Bank deal—”
“No, no,” Rowdy said, breaking in. “We’re handling that from our end, so don’t you worry about a thing. I just wanted you to know I miss you.”
The personal pronoun didn’t escape Valerie’s notice. Rowdy was attracted to her. “My father wanted me to thank you for the flowers,” she said. “Th-they got here yesterday morning.” She’d hardly been aware of it at the time, although the nurses had all exclaimed over the lavish bouquets. Now, she felt flustered and nervous with him, something that had never happened before. Their relationship was moving into new territory, and Valerie found the ground unstable and a bit frightening.
“Actually the flowers were for you. I thought you needed something to brighten up your day.”
“It was very thoughtful of you.”
“It’s the least I could do for my favorite executive. You hurry back, you hear?”
“I will. And, Rowdy, thanks for calling.” She closed her cell phone and let her breath rush out in a deep sigh.
Norah was already in the waiting room when Valerie returned there. “That was Rowdy Cassidy,” she explained unnecessarily.
“Are you in love with him?” Norah asked without preamble. “I thought you and Dr. Winston might be hitting it off, but …”
“Colby’s involved with Sherry Waterman.” Valerie kept her voice steady, making a strenuous effort to feign disinterest.
One glance at Norah told her she hadn’t succeeded. “You’ll recall that I never bothered to mention Sherry. There’s a reason.”
“Oh?” Valerie shrugged. “I wondered … I mean, even Colby seemed to think you had, or rather that you should have.” She’d wanted to ask her sister, but had hesitated, almost preferring not to know.
“Those two have been dating for a year. If Colby was serious about Sherry he would’ve asked her to marry him before now. Even Sherry’s given up on them, although Colby doesn’t seem to have figured that out yet. The last I heard, she was seeing someone else. Not that I blame her,” Norah was quick to add. “It must be the most frustrating thing in the world to be crazy about a guy and have him lukewarm toward you.”
“I’m sure it must be.”
“You still haven’t answered me,” Norah pressed. “What about Rowdy? Are you in love with him?”
Valerie shrugged again, uncomfortable with the subject of her boss, unsure of her own feelings toward him. “Yes and no.”
“You’re beginning to sound like Colby. I think he loves everything Sherry represents. She’s a nurturing, kind-hearted woman. She fits the image of what Colby wants in a wife.”
“Then what’s stopping him?”
Norah gnawed on her lower lip for a moment. “My guess is that she bores him. Don’t get me wrong, Sherry’s not a boring person. Actually when I think about it, Sherry and I are a lot alike. She’s a homebody like me, and little things mean a lot to her. She doesn’t need an active social life or fancy clothes. Given the choice between a stay-at-home date with a rented movie or dining in a world-class restaurant, she’d opt for the movie.”
“I see.”
“You’re much better suited to Colby.”
“Me?” Valerie asked, her voice rising in astonishment. Hadn’t Norah just finished describing the kind of woman Colby wanted—a woman completely unlike Valerie?
“I’ve seen the looks the two of you exchange,” Norah continued thoughtfully. “I’m not blind, you know. I can feel the attraction between you. It’s mutual—and it’s hot.”
“Really,” Valerie said, becoming preoccupied with the crease in her wool trousers.
“Yes, really!”
“Yes, well, I’ll admit we’re attracted to each other, but nothing’s going to come of it.” She glanced at her watch, wanting an excuse to leave. “I’m going to stop in and see Dad.”
Norah’s smile seemed all-knowing. “Okay.”
David Bloomfield’s color was better, and he grinned happily when he saw his eldest daughter.
“Hello, Dad,” she said in a cheerful voice as she leaned over to kiss his cheek.
“Valerie,” he whispered, holding out his hand to her. “Listen, sweetheart, you’re spending too much time at the hospital. Take the day and get out in the sunshine. You’re beginning to look pale.”
“But …”
“It’ll do you good. No more sleeping on some dilapidated couch in the waiting room, either.”
She’d slept in her own bed in her own room for the first time the night before. In the morning, she’d been astonished at how well rested she felt. And she’d indulged in a long, hot shower, followed by a good breakfast—cooked by Norah.
The crews were just beginning to spray the apple trees under the direction of Dale Howard, the orchard manager. She’d heard the familiar sounds of men working in the orchards. It brought back memories of years past, of racing down the long, even rows, and climbing onto the low limbs of the trees, sitting there like a princess surveying her magical kingdom. Orchard Valley was magical, a town set apart.
For Valerie, coming home was like escaping to the past. The people were friendly, the neighbors neighborly, and problems were shared. It was a little piece of heaven.
“I wasn’t at the hospital last night,” she told him, pulling herself out of her musings. She loved Orchard Valley more than any place on earth, but she’d never be satisfied living here. There wasn’t enough challenge, not enough to tax her mind. No, Houston was her future and she accepted that with only one regret. Colby.
“So I heard,” her father answered. “I saw Colby earlier.”
Valerie watched his expression, hoping for—what?—some sign, some indication of her father’s thoughts. And of Colby’s.
There was none.
“Well? What did the good doctor have to say?”
“Nothing much.”
“Did he mention me?” she couldn’t prevent herself from asking.
“Nope, can’t say he did. Does that disappoint you?”
“Of course not.”
“Is there any reason he should mention you?”
Valerie was sorry she’d brought up the subject. “Not that I know of.”
Her answers seemed to make him smile. “So you like my doctor?”
“He’s been wonderful to you,” Valerie said.
“I wasn’t talking about me,” David told her gruffly. “I’m referring to you. You’re attracted to him, aren’t you, Valerie? You were never very good at hiding your feelings.”
“I’ve never met a man who appeals to me more,” Valerie said truthfully. There was no point in trying to deceive her father. He knew her all too well, and he understood her better than anyone, sometimes better than she understood herself.
“He feels the same way?” The question was calm, as though he were speaking to a child.
Valerie lowered her eyes before shaking her head. “It’d never work, and we both know it.”
She expected an argument from her father, was even looking for one. She wanted him to tell her she was wrong, that love could work when two people were committed to each other. That it wouldn’t matter how dissimilar they were, how differently they viewed life. That nothing mattered but the love they shared.
Her father, however, didn’t respond.
Discouraged, Valerie said goodbye and returned to the waiting room. On her way, she saw that Norah sat talking to another doctor at the end of the hallway. She was grateful her sister had left, because she needed time alone to think.
If she wanted evidence that people with very different personalities could fall in love and make the relationship work, she need look no further than her own parents. The story of how they’d met and fallen in love was like a fairy tale, one that, as a child, she’d never tired of hearing.
Her father had gone to university and obtained his degree in business administration. Armed with his dreams, he’d built a financial empire and became a millionaire within a few years. Then he’d collapsed with rheumatic fever, nearly losing his life. While he was in the hospital recuperating, he’d met a young nurse. David knew the moment he met Grace Johnson that he was going to love her. It never occurred to him that she’d refuse his marriage proposal.
Several months of relentless pursuit later, he’d convinced Grace to marry him. Despite the fact that she was deeply in love with David, Grace had been afraid. She was a preacher’s daughter who’d lived a simple life. David was a business tycoon who’d taken automation technology to new industry heights. Grace’s fears about a marriage to David Bloomfield were warranted. But over the years, love had proven even the most hardened skeptics wrong, and the two had lived and loved together until her mother’s death a few years before.
Her own romance wasn’t going to have a fairy-tale ending, the way her parents’ had. Her father knew it, too, otherwise he would’ve been the first to encourage her.
Her father, however, had said nothing.
Valerie was working in the den on her laptop, putting files in order, when she saw the red car hurtle down the driveway. She thought, for one hopeful moment, that it might be Colby, but then remembered he drove a maroon Buick. Still, she hastened to answer the door.
It was Charles Tomaselli, looking tired and frustrated.
“Have you heard from Stephanie?” he demanded without so much as a greeting.
Her sister’s absence had been weighing on Valerie’s mind, too. She’d done everything she could think of; she’d even placed a call to the American Embassy in Rome, with no results.
“I haven’t heard a word. I don’t know what could’ve happened to her.”
“How late is she?”
Valerie had to think for a moment. In the past week, she’d lost all track of time. “Norah was the last person to speak to Steffie,” she explained. “Let me see—that was just before Dad’s surgery. Steffie thought she’d be home within twenty-four hours.”
“That was forty-eight hours ago.”
He didn’t need to remind her, Valerie thought irritably. “She’s coming by way of Tokyo.”
“Tokyo? She’s flying to Oregon via Japan?” Charles snapped.
