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Authors: Debbie Macomber

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Steffie’s suspicions were raised. “Does the good doctor know how Rowdy feels about you?”

“I think he might. Then again, we’ve never really discussed Rowdy, and why should we? If you want the truth, I think Colby would rather forget about him.”

“Maybe he should take his head out of the sand.”

“Don’t you go saying anything to him,” Valerie said vehemently. “I mean it, Steff. What happens between Rowdy and me is between Rowdy and me.”

“Is Colby the jealous type?” Steffie remembered how she’d felt the day she saw Charles standing next to Wendy, the intern at the
Clarion.
Until that moment, she’d never thought of herself as jealous. Even now the blood simmered in her veins when she recalled how the little blonde had gazed up at Charles, her blue eyes wide with open admiration.

“I don’t know if Colby is or not. I only know how I’d feel if the situation was reversed.” Valerie seemed to consider her next words. “Before Colby and I became engaged he was dating a nurse named Sherry Waterman, a friend of Norah’s. Apparently he’d been going out with her for quite a while. Everyone was expecting them to announce their engagement. Norah seemed to feel otherwise, but that’s another story.”

“I swear Norah’s got a sixth sense about these things.”

Valerie nodded. “I think she does, too. At any rate, Colby and I decided that although we were attracted to each other, a long-term relationship was out of the question. Colby…asked me to hurry up and leave because my staying made everything so much more painful for us both.”

“He didn’t!” Steffie was outraged. “It’s a good thing he didn’t say that around me.”

Valerie laughed. “He didn’t really mean it. Oh,
maybe he did at the time, but I didn’t make falling in love easy for either of us.”

Valerie’s stubbornness was a trait the three Bloomfield sisters shared, Steffie thought with a small, rueful grin.

“After we talked, Colby started dating Sherry again. I think they went out four or five nights in a row. I didn’t know about it, but in a way, I guess I did. I certainly wasn’t surprised when I heard.

“Poor Norah felt she had to let me know what was happening. I think it was harder on her than on me.”

“Were you jealous?”

“That’s the funny part,” Valerie said pensively. “At first I was so jealous I wanted to scratch Sherry’s eyes out. I fantasized about hunting down Colby Winston and making him suffer.”

“You should’ve asked me to help you. I’d gladly have volunteered.”

Valerie smiled and patted Steffie’s forearm. “Spoken like a true sister, but as I said that was my
first
reaction. What I found interesting was that it didn’t last.

“I sat down and thought about it and realized how selfish and unfair I was being to Colby. If I truly loved him, I should want him to have whatever made him happy. If that meant marriage to Sherry Waterman, then so be it.”

“In other words you were willing to let him go.”

“Yes. And that was a turning point for me. Don’t misunderstand me, it hurt more than anything I’ve ever
done. Remember the day I was supposed to fly back to Houston?”

Steffie wasn’t likely to forget it. “Of course.”

“When I got ready to leave, I really had to work at controlling myself. I wasn’t sure I could make it down the front steps without bursting into tears.”

“I knew you were upset….”

“Naturally, Colby would have to choose right then to stop in for a visit. That man’s sense of timing is going to be a problem.” Valerie shook her head in mock exasperation.

Steffie laughed. Give Valerie a week and she’d have Colby’s life completely reorganized.

“Somehow I managed to pull it off,” Valerie continued. “I remember sitting in the car and—this is odd—I felt a sense of peace. I don’t know if I can explain it. I felt this incredible…nobility. Don’t you dare laugh, Steffie, I’m serious. I didn’t stop loving Colby—if anything, I loved him more. Here I was, willingly walking away from the first man I’d ever loved.”

“I wanted to throttle Colby about then.”

Valerie grinned. “I remember learning about the tragic hero in my college literature courses. In some ways, I felt like I qualified for the tragic heroine.”

“You weren’t sorry you’d fallen in love with him, were you?”

“No, I was grateful. I was leaving him and at the same time I was giving him permission to find his own joy. And like I said, that somehow…ennobled me.”

Steffie recalled the farewell scene on her front porch when she’d been so angry with Colby. “I…don’t know if I could be that noble about Charles.”

“What’s happening with the two of you?”

“I’m not sure.” Steffie was being entirely honest. “We had a wonderful dinner on Thursday, then we drove to Multnomah Falls and watched the moonlight on the water.”

“That sounds so romantic.”

“It was. We walked up to the footbridge and…talked.”

“I’ll bet!” Valerie laughed.

“We did—only we did more kissing than talking.” Steffie knew that Charles had wanted to talk, wanted to discuss the past with her. She hated the thought of reliving all that pain. But more than anything she dreaded examining her utterly ridiculous behavior. Every time she recalled the scene in his bathroom, with her playing the role of waterlogged enchantress, she burned with humiliation. Someday they’d talk about it, but not now. It was too soon.

“Dad seems to think you two will get married.”

This discussion was a repeat of the one she’d had with her father every day for the past two weeks. “You know Dad when he’s got a bee in his bonnet. I’ve had to make him promise not to say a word about marriage to Charles.”

“Do you really believe he listened to you?” Valerie asked.

“I hope so,” she muttered.

Valerie frowned as she turned to stare out the car window. Steffie’s hands tightened on the steering wheel and she glanced around her. Wild rhododendrons blossomed along the side of the road, their bright pink flowers a colorful contrast to the lush green foliage.

“I’m worried about Dad.”

Valerie’s words surprised Steffie. “Why? He’s getting stronger every day. His recovery is nothing short of miraculous. I’ve heard you say so yourself, at least a dozen times.”

“All right, I’ll rephrase that. I’m worried for you.”

“Me? Whatever for?” As far as Steffie was concerned, her life had rarely been better. She’d applied for late admission to the Ph.D. program and planned to begin researching thesis topics soon. As for Charles…well, things were wonderful. Yes, she still had a lot of murky ground to cover with him, but there’d be time for that later.

“Dad’s riding high on success,” Valerie reminded her. “He seems to think that because everything fell into place with Colby and me, it should for you and Charles, as well. Remember he’s supposed to have dreamed all this.”

“I know. We’ve had our go-arounds on that issue. He’s told me at least twice a day for the past two weeks that I’m going to marry Charles by the end of the summer. Now I just smile and nod and let him think what he wants.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“It drives me nuts.” Possibly because she wanted to believe it so badly…

“Aren’t you nervous that Dad’s going to get impatient and say something to Charles?”

“No,” Steffie answered automatically. “Dad and I’ve been over this. He knows better than to say anything to Charles.”

Valerie nodded. “I wish I shared your confidence.”

Steffie put on a good front for the remainder of the drive, but she was growing more and more concerned. She knew one thing; she didn’t have the personality to take on the role of tragic heroine. She’d leave that to her older, wiser sister.

As soon as Valerie had checked in for her flight to Texas, Steffie headed back to Orchard Valley. As the minutes ticked away, she became increasingly anxious to get home.

It was just like Valerie to plant the seeds of doubt and then fly off, leaving Steffie to deal with the result—a garden full of weeds!

When she pulled into the driveway, Steffie experienced an immediate sense of relief. Her world was in order; her fears shrank to nothing. All was well. Her father was rocking on the front porch, the way he did every evening. He smiled and waved when he saw her.

“Hello, good-lookin’,” she said as she climbed out of the car. “How was your day?”

“I had a great afternoon. Every day’s wonderful now that I’ve got all these reasons to live. Oh, before I forget, Charles stopped by to see you. Guess he must’ve been in the neighborhood again.” A smile twinkled from her
father’s eyes. “You might want to call him. I suspect he’s waiting to hear from you.”

Steffie froze. Doubt sprang to new life. “You didn’t say anything to him about…what we discussed, did you?”

“Princess, I didn’t say a word you wouldn’t want me to.”

“You’re sure?”

“As positive as I’m sitting here.”

Steffie went inside the house, reassured by her father’s words. Norah was busy in the kitchen, kneading bread dough on a lightly floured countertop.

“Did you happen to see Charles?” Steffie asked in passing. She opened the refrigerator and removed a cold soda.

“He stopped by earlier and sat on the porch with Dad. I think he was here for about fifteen minutes.”

Steffie swallowed a long cool drink. “I’ll give him a call.”

“Good idea.”

She waited until she was in her room, then sat on her bed and reached for the phone. Although it had been several years since she’d called Charles, she still remembered his number. The same way she remembered everything else about him.

He must have been sitting by the phone, because he answered even before the first ring was finished.

“Charles, hello,” she said happily. “Dad said you came by.”

“Yes, I did.”

His voice was cool, and Steffie paused as the dread took hold inside her. “Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong, exactly. I guess you could say I’m disappointed. I thought you’d changed, Steffie. I thought you’d grown up and stopped your naive tricks. But I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

Nine

“D
ad!” Steffie struggled to keep the anger and distress from her voice. She hurried to the porch, her fists clenched against her sides. “You told me…you promised…” She hesitated. “What
exactly
did you say to Charles?”

Her father glanced upward momentarily, clearly puzzled. “Nothing drastic, I assure you. Is it important?”

“Yes, it’s important! I need to know.” She had to call on every ounce of self-control not to shout at him and demand an explanation. She longed to chastise him for doing the very thing she’d begged him not to.

“You look upset, Princess.”

“I am upset and I’m sure you know why… Just tell me what you said to Charles.”

“Sit down a bit and we’ll talk.”

Steffie did as her father requested, sitting on the top
porch step near his chair and leaning back against the white pillar. “Charles stopped in this afternoon, right?”

“Yes, and we had a nice chat. He tried to make me think he was here to visit me, but I saw through that.” Her father’s smile told Steffie all she needed to know. For one angry second, she thought he resembled a spider, waiting patiently for someone to step into his web.

“Obviously I was the subject under discussion, wasn’t I?” She forced herself not to yell, not to rant and rave at a man so recently released from the hospital.

Her father rocked back and forth a few times, then nodded. “We talked about you.”

Steffie closed her eyes, her frustration mounting. “I see. And what did the two of you come up with?”

“Let me tell you what Charles said first.”

She balled her hands into fists again, praying for patience.
“What did he say?”

“Well, Charles stopped by, as I said, pretending it was me he was here to visit, when we both knew he was coming to see you. I went along with it for a while, then asked him flat out what his intentions were toward you. I fully expected you to be wearing an engagement ring by now, and I let him know it.”

“Dad!” Without meaning to, Steffie sprang to her feet. “You breached a trust! I trusted you to keep your word, not to talk to Charles about this. And now you pass it off as…as nothing. Don’t you realize what you’ve done?”

For the first time he looked chagrined. “I did it because I love you, Princess.”

“Oh, Dad…you’ve made everything so much more difficult.”

“Aren’t you interested in what he had to say?” His smile was bright and cocky again. “Well, aren’t you? Now sit back down and I’ll tell you.”

“Oh, all right.” She sighed, lowering herself onto the porch step, her legs barely able to support her. She was shaking with trepidation.

“Charles seemed more concerned with the fact that I’d asked than with answering the question. To be perfectly honest, Princess, he wasn’t overly pleased with me.”

“I can’t believe he even answered you.”

“Of course he did. He said if the subject of marriage did come up, then it was between the two of you, and not the three of us. It was a good response.”

“You never should’ve said
anything
about us marrying.”

“Well, Princess, the way I figured it, he was going to pop the question, anyway. Besides, I don’t want Charles leading you on, or hurting you again.”

“Dad, you’ve made it nearly impossible for me now and—”

“Let me finish, because there’s more to tell you.” But after silencing her, he went strangely quiet himself.

“Go on,” she urged, clenching her jaw.

“I’m just trying to think of a way to tell you this without annoying you even more. I told Charles something you didn’t want me to tell him.”

“The dream?” The question came out a whisper. “But
you said you hadn’t told Charles anything I wouldn’t want you to. And before—you
promised
you wouldn’t mention marriage!”

“No, Princess, I never did promise. I took it under consideration, but not once did I actually say I wouldn’t discuss this with Charles. Now don’t look so worried. I didn’t tell him a thing about talking to your mother or about the three precious children the two of you are going to have someday.”

“What did Charles say? No,” she amended quickly, “tell me
exactly
what you said first.”

“Well, like I already told you, we were chatting—”

“Get to the part where you brought up marriage.”

“All right, all right. But I want you to know I didn’t say anything about the dream. Not because you didn’t want me to, but because when it came right down to it, I didn’t think he’d believe me. You three girls are having trouble enough, so I can hardly expect someone outside the family to listen.”

“You told Colby about it.”

“Of course I did. He’s my doctor. He had a right to know.”

“Great. In other words you blurted out that you expected Charles to marry me—because you didn’t want him trifling with my heart?” Spoken aloud, it sounded so ludicrous. Not to mention insulting. No wonder Charles was cool toward her.

“Not exactly. I asked his intentions. He said that was between the two of you. As I already explained.”

“Good.” Steffie relaxed a little. “And that was the end of it?” she murmured hopefully.

“Not entirely.”

“What else is there?”

“I told him you were anticipating a proposal of marriage, and for that matter so was I.”

Steffie ground her teeth to keep from screaming. It was worse than she’d feared. Sagging against the pillar, she covered her face with both hands. It would’ve been far better had he told Charles about the dream. That way, Charles might have understood that she’d had nothing to do with this. Instead, her father had made everything ten times worse by
not
mentioning it.

Charles was angry with her; that was obvious from their telephone conversation. He’d refused to discuss it in any detail, just repeating that he was “disappointed.” He seemed to believe she’d manipulated her father into approaching him with this marriage business. He wasn’t likely to change his mind unless she could convince him of the truth.

“Where are you going?” her father asked when she left him and returned a moment later with her purse and a sweater.

“To talk to Charles—to explain things, if I can.”

“Good.” David’s grin was full. “All that boy needs is a bit of prompting. You’ll see. Once you get back, you’ll thank me for taking matters into my own hands. There’s something about making a commitment to the right woman that fixes everything.”

Steffie was drained from the emotion. She found she couldn’t remain angry with her father. He’d talked to Charles with the best of motives. And he didn’t know what had gone on between her and Charles in the past—the tricks she’d played. So he couldn’t possibly understand why Charles would react with such anger to being pressed on the issue of marriage.

“I’ll wait up for you and when you get home we’ll celebrate together,” he suggested.

Steffie grinned weakly and nodded, but she doubted there’d be anything to celebrate.

 

She took her time driving into town, using those minutes to organize her thoughts. She hoped Charles would be open-minded enough to accept her explanation. Mostly, she wanted to reassure him that she hadn’t talked her father into interrogating him about marriage. They’d come so far in the past few weeks, she and Charles, and Steffie didn’t want anything to spoil that.

Charles was waiting for her, or he seemed to be. She’d barely rung his doorbell when he answered.

“Hello.” His immediate appearance took her by surprise. “I—I thought it might be a good idea if the two of us sat down and talked.”

“Fine.” He didn’t smile, didn’t show any sign of pleasure at seeing her.

“Dad told me he talked to you about…the two of us marrying.” The words felt awkward on her tongue.

“He did mention something along those lines,” Charles returned stiffly.

He hadn’t asked her to make herself comfortable or invited her to sit down. It didn’t matter, though, since she couldn’t stand still, anyway. She paced from one side of his living room to the other. She felt strangely chilled, despite the warm spring weather.

“You think I put Dad up to it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said frankly.

He stood rooted to the same spot while she drifted, apparently aimlessly, around the room. His look, everything about him, wasn’t encouraging. Perhaps she should have delayed this, let them both sleep on it, instead of forcing the issue. Perhaps she should’ve dropped the whole thing, and let this misunderstanding sort itself out. Perhaps she should go home now before the situation got even worse.

“I didn’t ask Dad to say anything to you,” she told him simply.

“I wish I could believe that.”

“Why can’t you? This is ridiculous! If you intend to drag the past into every disagreement, punish me for something that happened three years ago, then—”

“I’m not talking about three years ago. I’m talking about here and now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll say this for you, Steffie, you’ve gotten a lot more subtle.”

“How…do you mean?”

“First, you park in front of the newspaper office just as I happen to—”

“When?”

“Last week. I was talking to Wendy, and when I looked up, I saw you sitting in your car, staring at us. Just how long had you been there?”

“I…don’t know.”

“Now that I think about it, I realize what a fool I’ve been. You’ve been spying on me for weeks, haven’t you?”

The idea was so outlandish that Steffie found herself laughing incredulously. Nothing she said would make any difference, not if he believed what he was saying. Because if he did, there was nothing of their relationship left to salvage.

“There’s no fooling you, is there?” she threw out sarcastically. “You’re much too smart for me, Charles. I’ve been hiding around town for days, following you with binoculars, charting your activities. It’s amazing you didn’t catch on sooner.”

He ignored her scornful remarks. “Very convenient the way you twisted your ankle the other day, too, wasn’t it? Somehow you managed to fall directly into my arms.”

“The timing was perfect, wasn’t it?” she said with a short, humorless laugh. “You’re right, I couldn’t have planned that any better.”

He frowned. “Then there was the dinner waiting for me at the house the other night. Italian, too, just the way my grandmother used to make it.”

“Interesting how I knew that, huh?”

“All of this adds up to one thing.”

“And what might that be?” she asked scathingly, folding her arms. She’d assumed far too much in this relationship. She’d lowered her guard and actually believed Charles loved her, because she loved him so deeply. Now she understood how wrong she’d been.

“It adds up to the fact that you’re playing games again.”

“Don’t forget the moonlight the evening we were at Multnomah Falls. I arranged that, too. I have to admit it took some doing.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic.”

“I don’t agree,” she returned defiantly.

Charles frowned and muttered something she couldn’t hear.

“I must say I’m surprised you caught on so quickly, what with me being so subtle and all.”

“Let’s clear the air once and—”

“But the air
is
clear,” she said, waving her arms wildly. She knew she was going too far with this, but the momentum was building and she couldn’t seem to stop. “I’ve been found out, and now it’s all over.”

“Over?”

“Of course. There’s no need to pretend anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Revenge. It’s supposed to be sweet, and it would’ve been if you hadn’t caught on when you did.”

“Just what did you intend to do?” he demanded.

“You mean you don’t have that figured out, as well?”

“Tell me, Stephanie.” His voice was hard as ice and just as cold.

“Fine, if you must know. Once I got you to the point of proposing—” she paused dramatically “—I was going to laugh and reject you. It seems only fair after the way you humiliated me. You laughed at me, Charles, and it was going to be my turn to laugh at you. Only you found me out first….”

His frown deepened into a scowl. “Your father—”

“Oh, don’t worry, he didn’t know anything about that part. Getting him to shame you into a marriage proposal was tricky, but I managed it by telling him I was afraid you were…trifling with my affections.” She gave a deep exaggerated sigh, astonished that he seemed to believe all this.

“I see.”

“Oh, you’re too clever for me, Charles. What can I possibly say?”

“Perhaps it would be best if you left now.”

“I think you’re right. Well, at least you know what it feels like to have someone laugh at you.”

Charles walked to his front door and held it open for her. With a jaunty step, Steffie walked out of his house. “Well, I’ll see you around, but you don’t need to worry—I won’t be spying on you anymore.”

His jaw was clamped tightly shut, and Steffie realized she’d succeeded beyond all her expectations. Charles was disgusted with her. And furious. So furious that he couldn’t get her out of his home fast enough.

“You can’t blame a girl for trying,” she said with a shrug once she’d slipped past him.

In response, Charles slammed his door.

By the time Steffie was inside the car, she was shaking so badly that she could hardly insert the key into the ignition. Her breath seemed to be trapped in her chest, creating a painful need to exhale.

Like Charles, she was angry, angrier than she’d ever been in her life. In one rational corner of her mind, she knew—had known all along—that it was a mistake to goad him with all those ridiculous lies.

But the shocking thing, the sad thing, was that he’d believed them. To his way of thinking, apparently, it all fit. And as far as Steffie was concerned, there was nothing more to say.

In time, she’d regret her outburst, but she didn’t then. At that moment, she was far too infuriated to care. In time, she’d regret the lies, the squandered hopes—but it wouldn’t be soon.

 

“Well?” her father asked, his expression pleased and expectant as she let herself into the house an hour later. “Are you two going to look for an engagement ring in the next few days?”

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