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

Her sister was home.

Seven

Colby 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.”