Orchard Valley Brides (2 page)

“Love,” Norah repeated wistfully.

“Valerie's never been in love before, that's what threw her. Not the wedding plans or all the organizing or even the job situation.”

“What surprises me the most,” Norah said, recalling the past few weeks, “is how she immediately becomes composed whenever Colby's around.”

“He's her emotional anchor,” Steffie said knowingly. “Like Charles is mine. And—”

“Should I say anything to Val about Rowdy Cassidy?” Norah broke in.

“Sure,” Steffie told her, “but my advice is to wait until after the ceremony.”

Norah concurred, frowning a little.

“How badly was he injured?” Steffie asked.

“He's in critical condition and is scheduled for surgery on his leg. I think he'll be in traction for some time. He suffered some internal injuries, too, but they don't appear to be as serious as we first assumed.”

“So he'll be pretty well out of it until after the wedding, anyway?”

“Oh, yes. He's not expected to fully regain consciousness until sometime tomorrow afternoon—if then.”

“Then I suggest we let sleeping dogs lie,” Steffie said. “It's not like a visit from Valerie would do him any good—at least, not now.”

“Are you sure we're doing the right thing?” Norah wasn't nearly as confident as her sister. Valerie had a right to know about her friend's accident.

“No,” Steffie admitted after a moment. “I'm not at all sure. But I just can't see upsetting Valerie now, so close to the wedding. Especially when Cassidy isn't likely to know if she goes to see him, anyway.”

Norah had no idea what to do. Apparently Rowdy Cassidy cared enough for her sister to call her and even come to Orchard Valley. Perhaps he loved her. If that was the case, though, his love was too late.

 

Just before noon the next day, Norah was standing in the vestibule of the church with the other members of the bride's party. Everyone—except Valerie—was giggling and jittery with nerves. Valerie no longer seemed nervous; now that the day she'd worried over and waited for had finally arrived, she was completely calm. Serene.

But Norah's head was spinning. This wasn't her first wedding by any means. She'd been a bridesmaid three times before. Yet she'd never been more…excited. That was the word for it. Excited and truly happy for these two people she loved so much.

Although she'd never said anything to Valerie and certainly never to Colby, she'd been interested in the good doctor herself. Who wouldn't be? He was compassionate and gentle, but he also possessed a rugged appeal. He wasn't one to walk away from a challenge. Loving Valerie had proved as much.

Norah's oldest sister had worked hard on her wedding preparations, and all her careful planning had paid off. The church was lovely. Large bunches of white gardenias
decorated the end of each pew. The sanctuary was filled with arrangements of white candles and a profusion of flowers—more gardenias, white and yellow roses, pink apple blossoms.

The bridesmaids' dresses were in different pastels and they carried flowers that complemented their color. Norah's own pale rose gown was set off by a small bouquet of apple blossoms while Steffie, wearing a soft green gown, carried lemony rosebuds.

The fragrance of the flowers mingled and wafted through the crowded church, carried by a warm breeze that drifted through the open doors.

It was all so beautiful. The flowers, the ceremony, the love between Valerie and Colby as they exchanged their vows. Several times, Norah felt the tears gather in her eyes. She hated being so sentimental, so maudlin, but she couldn't help herself. It was the most touching, most
beautiful,
wedding she'd ever attended.

Valerie was radiant. No other word could describe the kind of beauty that shone from her sister's face as she smiled up at her husband.

The reception, dinner and dance were to follow immediately afterward at the Orchard Valley Country Club. But first they were subjected to a series of photographs that seemed to take forever. Norah didn't know why she felt so impatient, why she seemed to be in such a hurry. It wasn't like her.

After that was finally over, her father took her by the arm as they headed for the limousines, which were lined up outside the church, ready to drive them to the club.

“I heard about Cassidy,” he said in a low voice. “How is he?”

“I phoned the hospital this morning,” Norah told him. The man had been on her mind most of the night. She hadn't gotten much sleep, which left her with plenty of time to think about Rowdy Cassidy. She'd attributed her restlessness to night-before-the-wedding jitters. She hadn't intended to call the hospital until much later; there was plenty to occupy her before the wedding. Valerie had regimented their morning like a drill sergeant, but she'd found a spare moment to make a quick call.

“Carol Franklin was on duty and she told me Rowdy had just come out of surgery.”

“And?”

“And he's doing as well as can be expected.”

“I thought it might be a good idea if one of us checked up on him later,” David Bloomfield said under his breath. “I'll tell Valerie and Colby about the accident myself, after the reception. I'm sure they'll want to see him, too.”

“I'll check on him,” Norah offered with an eagerness she didn't fully understand.

Her father nodded and pressed a car key into the palm of her gloved hand. “Steal away when you can. If anyone asks where you are, I'll make up some excuse.”

He moved off before Norah could question him. Her father seemed to assume she'd want to leave the social event of the year, her own sister's wedding, to visit a stranger at the hospital.

And he was right! Without knowing it, she'd been looking for an excuse, a means of doing exactly what her father had suggested. It was the reason she found herself so impatient, so restless; she realized that now. Something inside her was calling her back to the hospital. Back to Rowdy Cassidy's bedside.

There was a small break in the wedding festivities between the dinner and the dance. The staff was clearing off the tables and the musicians were tuning up. There should be just enough time for her to leave without anyone noticing.

Her father caught her eye, and he seemed to be thinking the same thing because he nodded in her direction.

Driving was an exercise in patience with all the layers of taffeta, but Norah managed, although she was sure she made quite a sight.

The hospital was quiet and peaceful when she arrived. If people thought it unusual that she was strolling inside wearing a floor-length rose gown, long white gloves and a broad-brimmed straw hat with a band of ribbon cascading down her back, they said nothing.

“What room did they put Rowdy Cassidy in?” she asked at the information desk.

“Two fifteen,” Janice Wilson told her, after glancing at her computer screen. It was obvious that Janice wanted to ask a few questions about Valerie and the wedding, but Norah skillfully sidestepped them and hurried down the main hospital corridor.

When she got to his floor, she went directly into his room. Standing in the doorway, Norah let her eyes adjust to the dim light.

Rowdy's right leg was suspended in the air with a pulley. His face was turned toward the wall. Norah walked farther into the room and reached for his medical chart, which was attached to the foot of his bed. She was reading over the notations when she sensed that he was awake. He hadn't made the slightest noise or done anything to indicate he was conscious.

Yet she knew.

Norah moved to the side of his bed, careful not to startle him.

“Hello,” she said softly.

His eyes fluttered open.

“Would you like a sip of water?” she asked.

“Please.”

She picked up the glass and straw, positioning it at the corner of his mouth. He drank thirstily, and when he finished, raised his eyes to her.

“Am I dead?”

“No,” she answered, with a reassuring smile. Obviously the medication was continuing to block out the pain, otherwise he'd know exactly how alive he was.

“Should be,” he whispered, as though speaking demanded a real effort.

“You're a very lucky man, Mr. Cassidy.”

He attempted a grin but didn't quite succeed. “Who are you, my fairy godmother?”

“Not quite. I'm Norah Bloomfield, Valerie's sister. And I'm a nurse. I was on call when they brought you in last night.”

“Unusual uniform.”

Once again Norah found herself smiling. “I was in my sister's wedding this afternoon.”

If she hadn't captured his full attention earlier, she did now.

“So Valerie decided to go through with it, after all, did she?”

“Yes.”

Silence filled the room.

“Damn fool woman,” he muttered after a moment. He
turned his head away from her and as he did, Norah noticed that his mouth had tightened with pain. His dark eyes were dulled by it.

Norah was left to speculate as to its source, physical or emotional.

“I
n twenty years I've never worked with a more disagreeable patient,” Karen Johnson was saying when Norah walked into the nurses' lounge early Monday morning. “First, he refuses the painkiller even though the doctor ordered it, then he throws a temper tantrum—and his breakfast tray ends up on the other side of the room!”

“I hope you're talking about a patient in pediatrics,” Norah said, sitting down next to her friend.

“Nope. Rowdy Cassidy, the guy they brought in from that plane crash. One thing about him—he's certainly earned his name. By the way, he asked for you. At least I think it was you. He said he wanted to talk to the Bloomfield sister who wore fancy dresses. Since we both know Steffie's more likely to wear jeans and Valerie's on her honeymoon, he must mean you.”

Norah smiled to herself, recalling her brief visit with Rowdy the afternoon of Valerie's wedding. So he remembered.

“Don't feel any obligation to go see him,” Karen
advised. “In my opinion, the man's been catered to once too often. It'd do him a world of good to acquire a little self-restraint.”

From the beginning, Norah had suspected that Rowdy would be a difficult patient. He was an energetic, decisive man, accustomed to quick action. And he was probably furious about missing Valerie's wedding. He'd been thwarted at every turn, which no doubt added to his frustration.

Although Norah didn't really know Valerie's former boss, she had the distinct impression that he wasn't often foiled. Try as she might, she couldn't help feeling sorry for him. He'd gambled for Valerie's affections and lost. He'd seemed to honestly believe that her sister would have a change of heart and cancel her wedding plans if he came to Orchard Valley.

Norah waited until eleven-thirty to visit Rowdy, since that was when she took her lunch break.

He was lying in bed. His right leg, encased in plaster, was held at an angle. The blinds were drawn, casting the room into shadow. When he saw her, he levered himself into a sitting position, using a small triangular bar to pull himself upright.

“I heard you wanted to talk to me,” she said, standing just inside the private room.

He didn't say anything for a moment. “So you were real.”

Norah hid a grin and nodded.

“You
are
a nurse, or is this another costume?”

“I'm a nurse.”

“Valerie went through with the wedding, didn't she?”

Norah raised her eyebrows. “Of course.”

His frown darkened.

“What's this I hear about you throwing your breakfast tray?” she asked, stepping farther into the room.

“Who are you, my mother?” he demanded sarcastically.

“No, but when you behave like a child, you can expect to be treated like one.” She walked to the window and twisted open the blinds. Sunlight spilled into the room.

Rowdy shielded his eyes. “The thing with the tray was an accident. Now kindly close those blinds,” he barked.

“You're certainly in a black mood. My advice to you is to lighten up. Literally.”

“I didn't ask for your advice.”

“Then I'll give it to you without charge. It wouldn't be a bad idea if you took those pain shots, either. You're not afraid of a needle, are you?”

He scowled fiercely. “Close those blinds! I need my sleep.”

“You aren't going to sleep unless you've got something to help you deal with the pain. Taking a painkiller isn't a sign of weakness, you know. It's common sense.”

“I don't believe in drugs.”

“I wish we'd known that when you were brought into the emergency room,” she said with light sarcasm. “Or when you went into surgery, for that matter. It would've made for an interesting operation, don't you think? What would you've suggested we do? Have you bite into a bullet?”

“I'm beginning to detect a family resemblance here,” he muttered. “You don't look anything like Valerie, but you're starting to talk just like her.”

“I'll accept that as a compliment.”

He was clearly growing weaker; levering himself
upward must have depleted his strength. Norah was surprised by his ability to move at all.

She approached his bed and rearranged the pillows. He slumped back against them and sighed. “Is she happy?”

Norah didn't need Rowdy to explain who he meant by
she
. “I've never seen a more radiant bride,” she told him quietly. “They've left for a two-week honeymoon. She and Colby stopped by to check on you before they went, but apparently you were still out of it.”

Pain flashed in Rowdy's eyes, and once again Norah had to wonder if it was from physical discomfort or knowing that he'd truly lost Valerie.

What Rowdy didn't understand, and what Norah couldn't tell him, was that he'd never had a chance with her sister. Valerie's fate had been sealed the minute she met Colby Winston. Nothing Rowdy said or did from that point forward would've made any difference.

“Where are you going?” Rowdy revived himself enough to demand when she started to leave the room.

“I'll be back,” she promised.

True to her word, she returned a couple of minutes later with Karen Johnson following her. Karen's right hand was conspicuously hidden behind her back.

“Get her out of here,” he said, pointing at Karen.

“Not just yet,” Norah countered smoothly.

Karen hesitated, looking at Norah, who nodded.

“What's that?” he roared when Karen brought her arm forward to reveal the needle. She raised it to the light and squeezed gently until a drop of clear liquid appeared at the tip.

“You, Mr. Cassidy, are about to receive an injection,” Norah informed him.

“No, I'm not!”

Norah thought Rowdy's protest could probably be heard from one end of the hospital to the other, but it didn't deter her or Karen. Norah held Rowdy's arm immobile while Karen swiftly administered the pain medication.

Karen fled the room at the first opportunity. Not Norah, who dragged a chair to his bedside and sat down. Rowdy was furious and made no attempt to hide his displeasure.

Norah checked her watch and calmly waited. His tirade lasted all of three minutes before he slowed down, slurring his words. His dark eyes glared back at her accusingly.

“Have you finished?” she asked politely, when his voice had dwindled to a mere whisper of outrage.

“Not quite. I'll…both…fired…out of…hospital…for this…”

“I'll give you the name of the hospital administrator, if you like,” Norah said helpfully. “It's James Bolton.”

He muttered under his breath. She could tell that he was fighting off the effects of the medication. His eyes drifted shut and he forced them open, scowling at her, only to have his lids close again.

“I want you to know I don't appreciate this,” he said, surprising her with a rally of strength.

“I know, but it'll help you sleep and that's what you need.”

He was growing more tranquil by the moment. “I thought I'd died,” he mumbled.

It was a miracle he'd survived the plane crash. Norah felt thankful he had, for a number of important reasons.

“You're very much alive, Mr. Cassidy.”

“An angel came to see me,” he told her, his voice fading. “Dressed in pink. So beautiful…almost made me wish I
was
dead.”

“Sleep now,” she urged, her heart constricting at his words. He remembered her visit; he'd mentioned it when he first saw her today, and now, under the influence of the medication, he was talking about it again.

She backed away. Although his eyes were closed, he reached out for her. “Don't go,” he mumbled. “Stay…a bit longer. Please.”

She gave him her hand and was astonished by the vigor of his grip. Touching him had a curious effect on her. He wasn't in pain now, she knew; the tension had left his face. Norah wasn't sure why she felt compelled to brush the hair from his forehead. She was rewarded with a drowsy smile.

“An angel,” he mumbled once more. Within seconds he was completely asleep. His grip on her hand relaxed, but it was a long time before Norah left his side.

 

Norah's father was sitting on the front porch of their large colonial home when she got home late that afternoon. He still tired easily from his recent surgery and often sat in the warmth of a summer afternoon, gazing out at his apple orchards.

“How's the patient?” he asked, as Norah climbed the porch steps.

“Physically Mr. Cassidy's improving. Unfortunately I can't say the same about his disposition.”

David chuckled. “I should give that boy a few pointers.”

Norah grinned. Her father's own stay at the hospital
had been a test of his patience—and the staff's. David hadn't been the most agreeable invalid, especially once he was on the mend. In his eagerness to return home, he'd often been irritable and demanding. Colby had said wryly that David wanted to make sure the hospital staff was just as enthusiastic about his return home as he was himself.

Norah sat on the top step, relaxing for a few minutes. Her day, much of it spent in the emergency room, had been long and tiring. “Dad,” she said carefully, supporting her back against one of the white columns, “what did you mean when you told Steffie that Rowdy Cassidy had arrived right on schedule?”

Her father rocked in his chair for a moment before answering. “I said that?”

Norah grinned. “According to Steffie you did.”

He shrugged. “Then I must have.”

Shaking her head, she got up. As she entered the house, she could hear her father's soft chuckle and wondered what he found so amusing.

Ever since his open-heart surgery, David Bloomfield had been spouting romantic “predictions” regarding Norah's two older sisters. She hoped he wasn't intending to do that with her, too.

Valerie and Colby had been the first to fit into his intrigue. Anyone with a nickel's worth of sense could see what was happening between those two. It didn't take a private detective to see that they were falling in love. Naturally there were a few problems, but that was to be expected in any relationship.

When their father awoke from his surgery, however, he claimed he'd visited the afterlife and talked with Grace, the girls' mother, who'd died several years earlier.
He also claimed he'd looked into the future and that he knew exactly who his three daughters would marry. Colby and Valerie inadvertently lent credibility to his “vision.” Their marriage made perfect sense to everyone. Certainly no one at the hospital was surprised when Colby gave Valerie Bloomfield an engagement ring. Their father, however, had crowed for a week over the happy announcement.

To complicate matters, a short time later, Steffie and Charles had fallen in love, just as her father had predicted. That case, too, was perfectly logical. Steffie had been in love with Charles for years. Charles had felt the same way about her.

Norah hadn't been privy to that information, but soon after Steffie came home it was obvious to all of them that she and Charles were meant to be together. It was only logical that they'd patch up their differences. Especially since their love had been strong enough to endure a three-year separation.

When Steffie and Charles announced
their
engagement, David had all but shouted with glee. Everything was happening just the way he'd said it would, after his near-death experience. The man had been gloating ever since. He'd gone so far as to insist that he knew when the grandchildren would begin to arrive. Valerie's would be the first, he said; she'd have identical twin sons nine months and three weeks—to the day—after her marriage.

He said it was just as well that Rowdy had rejected Valerie as manager of the Pacific Northwest branch, considering that she was going to be a mother of twins.

No one had known what to say to that, although Valerie had privately assured her sisters that she and
Colby had no intention of starting their family quite so soon.

They'd all decided it was best to let their father think what he wanted. He wasn't hurting anyone, and all his talk about the future seemed to give him pleasure.

Although these proclamations from their father unsettled the Bloomfield sisters, Colby had assured them that he'd had other patients who claimed to have experienced near-death encounters. It would all pass in time, he'd said with utter confidence.

Norah couldn't help noticing, however, that her father hadn't said anything to
her
about the man in her life. He'd made some cryptic comment while he was coming out of the anesthetic. He'd smiled up at Norah and mumbled something about six children. Later she realized he was telling her she would someday be the mother of six.

The idea was ludicrous. But he hadn't said a word about it since, which was a relief. She was a medical professional and refused to take his outlandish claims seriously. Neither did she wish to be drawn into a discussion concerning them. Besides, anyone who knew the two couples would know they would've gotten married with or without David Bloomfield's dream.

“Rowdy Cassidy's a good man, Norah,” her father said from behind her. “Be patient with him.”

Pausing, her hand on the screen door, Norah shook her head, trying to force the cowboy—as she still thought of him—from her mind. Rowdy was ill-tempered and arrogant, and she wanted as little to do with him as possible. Norah had no intention of becoming personally involved with such a spoiled, egocentric man.
“Be patient
with him.”
Norah scoffed silently. If anyone needed to learn patience, it was Mr. Rowdy Cassidy.

 

“Norah! Thank goodness you're here,” Karen Johnson said as she barreled through the double doors that led to the emergency room. Her face was red and she was panting slightly, as if she'd run all the way from the second floor.