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“And?” Valerie’s own heart felt as though it were in danger of failing just then. It pounded wildly, sending bursts of fear through her body.
“We can’t delay the surgery any longer.”
Norah was on her feet, tears streaking her face. “You can’t do the surgery now! His chances of survival are practically nil. We both know that.”
“He doesn’t have any chance if we don’t.” Although he was speaking to Norah, it was Valerie’s gaze he held, Valerie’s eyes he looked into—as if to say he’d do anything to have spared her this.
Five
Colby had been with her father in the operating room for almost six hours, but to Valerie, it felt like six years.
While she waited, she recalled the happy times with her father and, especially as she entered adolescence, the not-so-happy ones. Her will had often clashed with his, and they’d engaged in one verbal battle after another. Valerie had found her father stubborn, high-handed and irrational.
Her mother had repeatedly told Valerie the reason she didn’t get along with her father was that the two of them were so much alike. At the time Valerie had considered her mother’s remark an insult. Furthermore, it made no sense. If they were alike, then they should be friends instead of adversaries.
It wasn’t until her mother became ill that Valerie grew close to her father. In their love and concern for Grace, they’d set aside their differences; not a cross word had passed between them since.
Valerie couldn’t say which of them had changed, but she figured they’d both made progress. All she knew was that she loved her father with a fierceness that left her terrified whenever she thought about losing him.
The passage of time lost all meaning as she paced, back and forth, across the waiting room floor. It wasn’t the waiting room she was so familiar with, since Surgery was on the hospital’s ground level; a small brick patio, bordered with a waist-high hedge, opened off glass doors. Every now and then, Valerie or Norah would wander outside to breathe in the cool air, to savor the peace and tranquility of the night. There’d been no other patients in surgery that evening, no other families waiting for news.
Somehow word got out about her father’s crisis. Pastor Wallen from the Community Church stopped by and prayed with Valerie and Norah. Charles Tomaselli was there for an hour, as well. Various friends, including Al Russell from the pharmacy, came, too.
At midnight, an exhausted Norah had curled up on the sofa and fallen into a troubled sleep. Valerie envied her sister’s ability to rest, but found no such respite from her own fears.
Pacing and sucking on hard candy to relieve her nerves were the only methods she had of dealing with the terrible tension. She stared out the window at the bright moonlit night, then turned suddenly when she heard a soft footfall behind her. Colby stood there, still wearing his surgical greens.
Valerie’s eyes flew to his, but she could read nothing.
“He made it.”
She nearly slumped to the floor with relief. Tears welled up, but she blinked them back. “Thank God,” she whispered, raising both hands to her mouth.
“I nearly lost him once,” Colby said hoarsely, shaking his head. How exhausted he looked, Valerie noted. “I didn’t think there was anything more we could do. It seemed like a miracle when his heart restarted. In some ways, it was. Only so much of what happens on the operating table is in my hands.”
“I’m sure it was a miracle,” Valerie whispered, hardly able to speak. She walked to the sofa on unsteady legs and bent to wake Norah. Her sister woke instantly—her training as a nurse, no doubt—and Valerie told her, “Dad made it through the operation.”
“The danger’s not over yet,” Colby cautioned. “Not by a long shot. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I can’t. If he survives the night—”
“But he survived the surgery,” Norah said, her voice raised with hope. “I didn’t think that was possible. Surely that was his biggest hurdle?”
“Yes,” Colby agreed, “but his condition is critical.”
“I know,” Norah answered, but a faint light began to glow in her eyes. From the little Norah had said, Valerie realized her sister hadn’t expected their father to live through the ordeal. Now that he had, she was given the first glimmer of promise.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Colby said, rubbing his eyes in an oddly vulnerable gesture. He must be running on pure adrenaline, Valerie thought. He’d been in surgery earlier in the day and he’d lost a patient; he’d feared he was about to lose another one. He still could. He didn’t need to say it aloud for Valerie to know.
Colby didn’t think her father would live until morning.
“I wish Steffie was here,” Norah said after Colby had left.
Valerie nodded. “I do, too.”
Colby had been gone a few minutes when a male nurse appeared. He knew Norah and greeted her warmly, then told them they could each see their father, but for only a moment.
Valerie went first. She’d assumed she was emotionally prepared, but the sight of her father destroyed any self-control she might have attained. Seeing him lying there so close to death affected her far more acutely than she’d expected.
Hurriedly she turned and left, feeling as though she could barely breathe. She walked past Norah without a word. She stumbled onto the patio, hugging her middle with both arms, dragging in one deep breath after another in a futile effort to compose herself.
The tears, which she’d managed to resist all evening, broke through in a flood of fear and anger. It was unfair. It was so unfair. How could she lose her father so soon after her mother?
She didn’t often give in to tears, but now they came as a release. Huge sobs shook her body. Slowly, she lowered herself onto a concrete bench, then rocked back and forth as the hot, unstoppable tears continued to fall.
A hand at her back felt warm and comforting. “Go ahead and let it out,” Colby whispered.
He sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders, and gradually drew her to him. She had no strength or will to refuse. Nestling her face against his jacket, Valerie sobbed loudly, openly. Colby rubbed his cheek along her hair and whispered indistinguishable, soothing words. His arms were strong and safe, and she desperately needed him and he was there.
When there were no more tears left to shed, a deep shudder racked her body. She straightened and used her sleeve to wipe her damp face.
“Feel better?” Colby asked, his hand on her hair.
Valerie nodded, embarrassed now that he’d found her like this. “Norah?”
“She’s talking to Mark Collins. One of the nurses who assisted me in surgery.”
“I … thought I was prepared … didn’t know I’d fall apart like this.”
“You’ve been under a lot of stress.”
“We all have.” She edged away from him, and taking the cue, he dropped his arm. She offered him a trembling smile, her gaze avoiding his.
“I wish I could guarantee that your father’s going to make it through this,” he said, his voice heavy. “But I can’t do that, Valerie.”
“I know.” Spontaneously, as though he’d silently willed it, she raised her eyes to his. His hands grasped her shoulders, tightening as he urged her closer. His eyes seemed to darken as his mouth made a slow descent toward hers, stopping a mere fraction from her lips.
Valerie closed her eyes, and his warm breath caressed her face. She inhaled the pungent scent of surgical soap and something else, something that was ineffably him.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered.
It certainly wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. “I … know,” she said, but she was beyond listening to common sense. She needed Colby. His warmth, his comfort, his touch. And she wouldn’t be denied.
“Please,” she whispered.
The driving force of his kiss parted her lips, and Valerie was instantly caught in a whirlwind of sensation. Her hands reached for him, sliding up his solid chest, her fingers locking at the base of his neck.
He moaned, and she did, too. There was no resistance in Valerie, none. She surrendered herself to his kiss, to his need and her own.
With what seemed like reluctance, he broke away and slipped his mouth from hers.
She felt cold when he lifted his face. Opening her eyes, she glanced toward the waiting room, grateful to see that it was empty. They were alone in the shadows of the hedge, but a few seconds earlier it wouldn’t have mattered if they’d been standing in the middle of the bustling emergency room.
“I shouldn’t have let that happen. We both—”
Valerie placed her finger over his lips, silencing him. “Don’t say it. Please.” Her hands cupped his face and she gazed into his eyes, dark now with desire. “I need you. Right or wrong, I need you. Just hold me.”
A faint quiver went through her as he brought her back into his arms. Closing her eyes again, Valerie surrendered to the strength and safety she felt in his embrace.
He kissed her forehead lightly. His breath was uneven, and she found pleasure in knowing that he was no less affected by their encounter than she was.
As she’d already told him, Valerie didn’t want to question the right or wrong of it now. Neither of them was in any real danger of falling in love. Colby had explained the reasons a relationship between them was unfeasible. And she agreed with him. But their calm, rational words didn’t take into account what she was experiencing. This excitement, this weightless sense of release and longing. She didn’t want it to end. Apparently Colby didn’t, either, because he made no move to let her go.
“You shouldn’t feel so good in my arms,” he told her.
“I’m sorry.” But she wasn’t, not really. Soon they’d both regret this, but she’d save all the remorse for another day.
While she was in Colby’s embrace, she didn’t have to think about the future. She didn’t have to worry about facing the world without anyone to guide and support her. For the first time since she’d come home to Orchard Valley, Valerie didn’t feel inadequate or alone.
True, Norah was with her and Steffie was due to arrive soon. The three of them had each other, yet Valerie couldn’t quite escape the old roles; she was the one they’d always depended on for encouragement, guidance, a sense of strength. Only Valerie didn’t feel strong. She felt shaken, knocked off balance. She felt completely helpless….
“Norah’s looking for you,” Colby said.
Valerie sighed and grudgingly broke away from him. She peered into the waiting room and noticed her younger sister. Norah’s eyes found her at the same time. She didn’t do a good job of concealing her shock.
Valerie stood and turned to Colby. “Thank you.”
He remained sitting on the concrete bench and sent her a smile full of private meaning.
Norah met her at the door, eyes shifting from Valerie to Colby. “Is everything all right?”
Valerie nodded. “Dad’s holding his own at the moment.”
“I didn’t mean Dad. I meant with you.”
“Of course,” Valerie answered, forcing a casual tone. “I … just needed a good cry, and Colby lent me his shoulder.”
Norah slipped her arm around Valerie’s waist. “His shoulder, you say?” she asked, with more than a hint of a smile. “It looked like more than that to me.”
It was the following night, and once again Valerie and Norah had taken up residence in the waiting room. Several small groups of people were scattered about the area, either silent or speaking quietly.
“Dad’s been asleep for nearly twenty hours.” Valerie voiced her concern to Norah, who was far more knowledgeable about what was and wasn’t usual after this kind of surgery. “Isn’t that too long? I realize the anesthesia has a lot to do with it, but I can’t help worrying.”
“He’s been awake for brief periods off and on today,” Norah said. “He’s doing very well, all things considered.”
Her father wasn’t Valerie’s only concern. It was now after nine in the evening, and she’d been waiting since morning for some word from Steffie, who was supposed to be arriving sometime that day. But no one had heard from her, and Valerie felt anxious.
“Dad tried to talk the last time I was with him,” Norah told her.
“What did he say?”
She shrugged. “It didn’t make any sense. He looked up at me and grinned as if he’d heard the funniest joke in years and said ‘six kids.’”
“Six kids?”
“I don’t get it, either,” Norah murmured. “I’m going to ask Colby about it when I see him, but we keep missing each other.”
Valerie sat down and thumbed through the frayed pages of a two-year-old women’s magazine. It was a summer issue dedicated to homes and gardens, which only went to prove how desperate she was for reading material that would take her mind off her fears.
She glanced at photographs of bright glossy kitchens and “country” bedrooms, wicker-furnished porches and “minimal” living rooms—all of them attractive, none of them quite real. None of them home.
And she knew with sudden certainty that home was here. Here in Orchard Valley at the family house. In the upstairs bedroom at the end of the hallway. Home was curling up with a good book by the fireplace in her father’s den, and it was eating meals around the big oak table in the dining room her mother had loved.
That was home. She lived in her Houston condo in an exclusive neighborhood. She’d had a decorator choose the color scheme and select the furniture, since she didn’t have the time for either task. A housekeeper came in twice a week to clean. The condo was a place to sleep. An address where she could pick up her mail. But it wasn’t a place of memories and it wasn’t home.
She read an article in the same magazine about herb gardens. Gardening had always been her mother’s hobby, but every now and then Valerie had helped her weed. The times they’d spent working in the garden were among the fondest memories she had of her mother.
Perhaps in an attempt to recapture some of that simple happiness, Valerie had bought several large plants for her condo. But the housekeeper was the one who watered and fertilized them, since Valerie traveled so much.
Neither a home, at least not like the one she’d been raised in, nor a garden seemed to be in her future. Colby had recognized that from the beginning. Just as well, although it hadn’t warded off the magnetic attraction between them.
Valerie’s mind wandered to their exchange the night before. Their kissing was undoubtedly a mistake, but it was understandable and certainly forgivable. Both were emotionally drained, their resistance to each other almost nonexistent. Yet Valerie couldn’t bring herself to regret the time she’d spent in Colby’s arms.
It hurt a bit that he was avoiding her, because it told her he didn’t share her feelings. In those moments with Colby, Valerie had experienced something extraordinary. She’d always considered romantic love a highly overrated commodity. Dr. Colby Winston was the first man who’d given her reason to reevaluate that opinion—despite the fact that a relationship between them had no possible future.
Just when she was beginning to think he planned never to seek her out again, Colby surprised her. Norah had gone to talk with the nurse who’d been assigned to care for their father, and Valerie sat alone in the SICU waiting room, shuffling through her thoughts. Colby was on her mind just then—not that he was ever far from it.
She happened to glance up as he walked in. He was wearing a dark gray suit; she didn’t think she’d ever seen a handsomer man. Not even Rowdy Cassidy.
Their eyes met and held. “Hello,” she said, with a breathless quality to her voice. Over the course of her career, Valerie had made presentations before large audiences. Her voice carried well, yet with Colby she felt like a first-grader asked to stand before the class and confess a wrong.
“Valerie.” He paused and cleared his throat, then began again, sounding stilted and formal. “I’ve tied up everything here and I’m addressing a seminar this evening at the university. However, I have time for a bite to eat before I leave. Would you join me?”
“I’d be happy to,” she answered.
“I thought we should eat someplace other than the cafeteria.” His voice was more relaxed now. “There’s an Italian restaurant near here that serves excellent food.”
“Great.” Valerie brightened until she realized he hadn’t chosen the restaurant because he had a craving for spaghetti. He wanted to talk to her somewhere away from the hospital. Somewhere he could be assured none of his peers would be listening.
After leaving a message for Norah, they left the hospital in his car, a late-model maroon sedan. Sitting beside him, watching his strong, well-shaped hands on the steering wheel, gave Valerie a sense of intimacy, a feeling of familiarity.
The restaurant, a fairly new place she’d never visited before, was elegantly decorated in black and silver. The lighting, low and discreet, created a welcoming ambience.
“You didn’t need to pay for my dinner to apologize, you know,” Valerie said, reading over her menu. She quickly decided on a bowl of minestrone soup and fettuccine with fresh asparagus. No wine, because it would send her to sleep.
“Apologize?” Colby repeated.
Valerie lowered her menu and, crossing her arms, leaned toward him. “Not apologize exactly. You brought me here to tell me you’re sorry about what happened last night, didn’t you? I mean, it’s fairly obvious, since you’ve been avoiding me all day. But don’t worry about it,” she said off-handedly, “I understand.”
He scowled and set aside his menu. “Sometimes I forget how direct you can be.”
