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Orchard Valley Grooms

Page 4

by Debbie Macomber


  “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.

 

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