Orchard Valley Brides (3 page)

“What's wrong?”

“It's Mr. Cassidy again. He wants to talk to you as soon as possible.”

“That's unfortunate, since I'm on duty.”

Karen blinked, apparently not sure what to do next. “I don't think Orchard Valley is ready for a man like Mr. Cassidy.”

“What's he done
now?
”

“He had a laptop computer brought in so he could communicate with his company in Texas. Some man showed up with it yesterday.”

Norah rolled her eyes.

“Cassidy can barely sit up and already he's conducting business as if he were in some plush office,” Karen went on. “I can't figure out how it happened, but we all seem to be at his beck and call.”

“What's he want with me?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Karen snapped. “It isn't my place to question. My job is to obey.”

Norah couldn't keep from laughing. “Karen, he's only a man. You've dealt with others just like him a hundred times.”

Karen shook her head. “I've never met anyone like Rowdy Cassidy. Are you coming or not?”

“Not.”

Her friend ran a hand through her disheveled hair. “I was afraid you were going to say that. Would you consider doing it as a personal favor to me?”

“Karen!”

“I mean it.”

Still Norah hesitated. She wasn't a servant to be summoned at Mr. High-and-Mighty's command. Even if he'd whipped the other members of the hospital staff into shape—the shape of
his
choice—she had no intention of following suit.

“I'll stop in later,” she said reluctantly.

“How much later?”

“I'll wait until I'm on break.”

Karen's smile revealed her appreciation. “Thanks, Norah. I owe you one.”

Norah wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it herself. A few days earlier, Karen would've given up her retirement to have Rowdy Cassidy removed from her floor. A mere twenty-four hours later, she was running errands for him like an eager cabin boy wanting to keep his pirate captain content.

 

“You can leave my lunch tray there,” Rowdy instructed the young volunteer, pointing to his bedside table.

Norah watched the teenager hang back as though terrified of crossing the threshold into Rowdy's room. Considering the earlier incident with a meal tray, Norah didn't blame her.

“Come on, now,” Rowdy returned impatiently. “I'm not going to bite you.”

“I wouldn't believe him, if I were you,” Norah said, taking the tray out of the girl's hands.

Rowdy scowled. “It's about time you got here.”

“You're lucky I came at all.” She didn't like what was happening. Rowdy had manipulated the staff, bullied them into getting his own way, but such methods wouldn't work with her.

“It's been three days. Where have you been?” he demanded, frowning fiercely.

“I didn't know I was obligated to visit you.”

“Obligated, no, but you must feel a certain moral responsibility.”

She set down the tray, and crossed her arms. “I can't say I do.”

He scowled again. “Where was it you said Valerie and her…husband were honeymooning?”

“I didn't.”

“Hawaii? Carlton probably hasn't got an imaginative bone in his body. Which hotel?”

“Carlton?”

“Whoever Valerie married. I'm right, aren't I? They're in Hawaii. Now tell me the name of the hotel.”

“You must be joking, Mr. Cassidy. You don't think I'd be so foolish as to give you the name of the hotel so you could pester my sister on her honeymoon, do you?”

“Aha! So it
is
Hawaii.”

Norah winced.

“I just wanted to send a flower arrangement,” he went on, his voice a model of sincerity. “And I thought a bottle of champagne would be in order. I'd like to congratulate them, since I missed their wedding.”

“A flower arrangement? Champagne? I'll just bet,” Norah muttered under her breath.

Rowdy went still for a moment. “You don't know me
very well, do you, Ms. Bloomfield? Or you'd appreciate that I'm not the kind of man who'd begrudge others their happiness. Now that Valerie's married Carlton, I—”

“Colby,” she interrupted.

“Colby,” he repeated, bowing his head slightly. “Well, I'd like to offer them both my most heartfelt congratulations.”

Norah shrugged. “Sorry, I don't have the name of their hotel.”

Rowdy's gaze hardened briefly. “Then I have no choice but to wait until the happy couple returns from their honeymoon.”

“That's an excellent idea.” Norah clasped her hands behind her back; she hadn't been completely honest with Rowdy. “Valerie didn't know about your accident until after the wedding,” she told him, not quite meeting his eyes.

Rowdy said nothing for several minutes. “I didn't think she knew,” he murmured, giving the impression that had she been aware of his injuries, she'd never have gone through with the wedding.

“It wouldn't have made any difference,” Norah told him, unable to hide her irritation. “Anyway, she had enough on her mind without having to worry about you. So we decided not to tell her until later.”

“You kept it from her?” he stormed.

“That's right, we did,” she replied calmly.

He was furious; in fact, Norah had never seen a tantrum to equal his. But she ignored his outburst and went about setting up his lunch tray. She removed the domed cover from the meal, then folded the napkin and laid it across his chest.

When he paused to breathe, Norah asked, “Do you
want your lunch now, or would you prefer to wait until you've calmed down?”

Rowdy's mouth snapped shut.

“Is Dr. Silverman aware you've had a computer brought in for business use?” She pointed at the laptop beside him on the bed. “Furthermore, is he aware that you're attempting to work out of this room?”

“No. Are you going to tell him?” he asked, eyeing her skeptically.

“I might.”

“It doesn't matter. I'm getting out of this hick town as soon as I can arrange it.”

“I'm sure the staff will do everything possible to speed the process. You've made quite a name for yourself in the past few days, Mr. Cassidy.”

Before Rowdy could respond, Karen appeared in the doorway, looking frazzled. She glanced at Norah, obviously relieved that her friend was close at hand.

“It's time for your injection, Mr. Cassidy,” she said.

“I don't want it.”

“I'm sure Mr. Cassidy doesn't mean that, Karen,” Norah said cheerfully. “He'll be more than happy to take his shot—isn't that right?”

Rowdy glared at her. “Wrong, Ms. Bloomfield.”

“Fine, then. I'll hold him for you, Karen, I only hope I don't bump against his leg, since that would be terribly painful. Of course, if he passes out from the agony, it'll make giving him the injection that much simpler.”

“If I take the shot I won't be able to work,” Rowdy growled.

“Might I remind you that you're in the hospital to rest, not to conduct your business affairs?”

Norah took one step toward him, staring at his right leg.

“All right, all right,” he grumbled, “but I want you to know I'm doing it under protest. You don't play fair—either one of you.”

Karen threw Norah a triumphant look. Rowdy turned his head while she administered the pain medication. In only minutes the drug began to take effect.

Rowdy's eyes drifted shut.

“Thanks, Norah,” Karen whispered.

“What's going on here?” Norah asked. She'd never known Karen or any of the others to allow a patient to run roughshod over them.

“I wish I knew.” Karen sighed. “The only one he's civil to is you. The whole floor's been a madhouse since he arrived. I've never known anyone who can order people around the way he does. Even Dr. Silverman seems intimidated.”

“Harry?” Norah could hardly believe it.

“I've never looked forward more to a patient's release. The crazy part is that no one's supposed to know he's here. Especially the press. His friend—the CHIPS attorney—read us the riot act about talking to anyone from the media. They're worried about what'll happen to the stocks.”

Norah walked out of Rowdy's room with Karen. Now she understood why the plane crash had received only a brief mention in the news and why Rowdy's name had been omitted. “When will he be able to travel?” she asked.

Karen gave a frustrated shrug. “I don't know, but my guess is it won't be soon. His leg's going to take a long
time to heal and the less he moves it now, the better his chances for a complete recovery later. He may end up walking with a cane as it is.”

Norah couldn't imagine the proud and mighty Rowdy Cassidy forced to rely on a cane. For his sake, she hoped it wouldn't come to that.

 

At home that afternoon, Norah was still bothered by the thought of a vital man like Rowdy hobbling along with a cane. But she didn't want to think about him. He wasn't her patient and really, other than the fact that her sister had once worked for him, there was no connection between them.

She'd managed to stay away from him for three days, despite the way she felt drawn to his presence. She shook her head, bemused that he'd succeeded in causing so much turmoil. The hospital had become a whirlwind of activity and it all seemed to focus on one man. Rowdy Cassidy.

“Hi,” Steffie said, breaking into Norah's thoughts.

Norah, who'd been making a salad for their dinner, realized her hands were idle. She was thinking about the hospital eleven miles down the road, instead of her task.

“I didn't know if you'd be back for dinner or not,” she said, hoping her voice didn't betray the path her mind had taken.

“I wasn't sure, either,” Steffie admitted, automatically heading for the silverware drawer. She counted out cutlery and began to set the kitchen table.

Norah continued with the salad, glancing up now and then to watch Steffie. Her sister looked lovelier than ever and her calm, efficient movements revealed a new contentment. A new self-acceptance.

So this was what love did. Her sisters seemed to glow with the love they felt—and the love they received. In both of them, natural beauty was enhanced by happiness.

For most of her life, Norah had been referred to as the most attractive of the three Bloomfield girls. She was blonde, blue-eyed, petite. But lately, Norah felt plain and dowdy compared to Valerie and Stephanie.

“How's everything at the hospital?” Steffie asked absentmindedly.

“I take it you're asking about Rowdy Cassidy?”

Steffie laughed. “I guess I am. You know, I can't help feeling a bit guilty about not giving Valerie his message.”

“You weren't the only one.”

“You didn't give her his message, either? You mean he called more than once? Oh, dear.”

“I didn't talk to him,” Norah countered swiftly. “But Dad did.” Rowdy had never actually said so, but he'd implied that he'd phoned Valerie several times. If Steffie had answered one call and Norah none, that left only their dear, meddling father.

She was about to explain that when the phone rang. Norah reached for the receiver; two minutes later she was so furious she could barely breathe.

Slamming the phone down, she whirled on her sister. “I don't believe this. Of all the high-handed, arrogant—it's outrageous!”

“Norah, what's wrong?”

“R
owdy Cassidy has had me transferred out of the emergency room!” Norah shouted, clenching her fists. “The nerve of the man!”

“But why?” Steffie wanted to know.

“So I could be there to wait on him hand and foot like everyone else.” Norah stalked angrily to the other side of the kitchen. “I don't believe it! Of all the—”

“Nerve,” Steffie supplied.

“Precisely.”

“Surely you've got some say in this,” Steffie said, as she resumed setting the table. Norah glared at her sister, wondering how Steffie could think about dinner at a time like this.

“Apparently I
don't
have a choice in the matter,” Norah fumed. “I've been asked to report to Karen Johnson at seven tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, dear.”

“I'm so furious I could scream!”

“What's this yelling all about?” her father asked, strolling into the bright, cheery kitchen.

“It's Rowdy Cassidy again,” Steffie said before Norah had the chance.

David rubbed one hand along his jaw. “I don't think you need to worry—he'll be gone soon.”

His words were of little comfort to Norah. “Unfortunately, it won't be soon enough to suit me.”

Her father chuckled softly and left the kitchen.

 

Norah arrived on the second floor early the following morning.

Karen Johnson was at the nurses' station making entries on a patient's chart. “So you heard,” she said.

Norah gave her friend a grumpy smile. “I'm not happy about this.”

“I didn't think you would be, but what else can we do when His Imperial Highness issues a decree?”

“Is he awake?”

Karen nodded. “Apparently he's been up for hours. He wants to see you the minute you get here,” Karen said, and made a sweeping motion with her arm.

Although Norah was furious with Rowdy, her friend's courtly gesture produced a laugh. “How's he doing?”

“Better physically. Unfortunately, not so well emotionally. Being stuck in a hick-town hospital, as he so graciously describes Orchard Valley General, hasn't improved his disposition. But then, he'd find something to complain about in paradise. He wants out, and there isn't a man or woman on this floor who wouldn't grant him his wish if it was possible.”

Norah pushed up the sleeves of her white cardigan sweater as she walked into Rowdy's room, prepared to do battle. He smiled boyishly when he saw her, which disarmed and confused her. She hadn't expected him to be in a good mood.

“Morning,” he greeted her cheerfully.

“I want you to know I don't appreciate the fact that you've adjusted my life to suit your own purposes.”

“What?” he demanded. “Asking the administrator to assign you to this floor? You were the one who gave me his name, weren't you? Aren't you being a bit selfish?”

“Me? If
I'm
selfish, what does that make you?”

“Lonely. You're the only person I know in this entire town.”

“Your acquaintance is with my sister, not me,” she reminded him forcefully.

“In this case, it's any port in the storm. I trust you, Norah, although I'm not sure why. You've already admitted Valerie didn't know about my accident because you didn't tell her until after the wedding. I can only assume you wanted me for yourself.”

If he was hoping she'd rise to his bait, he had a long wait coming. She folded her arms and expelled a deep sigh. “I'll be bringing your breakfast in a couple of minutes,” she said, turning her back on him.

When she came back, carrying the tray, Rowdy was sitting up in bed. “I need your help,” he announced.

“You look perfectly capable of feeding yourself.”

“I'm bored out of my mind.”

“Do what everyone else does. Watch television,” she said tartly. Whether he was lonely or not, she refused to
pander to his moods. He'd pulled a dirty trick on her and she wasn't going to reward his behavior.

Rowdy glanced up at the blank television screen. “Please don't be annoyed with me, Norah. I'm serious.”

“So am I.” But she could feel herself weakening. When Rowdy turned on the charm, Norah suspected few could deny him. Karen Johnson, for instance… Well, Norah had no intention of ending up the same way.

“When will you be back?” he asked, grimacing as he examined his meal. The toast was cold. Norah could tell by the way the butter sat hard and flat on top. The eggs were runny and the oatmeal looked like paste. Norah didn't envy him.

“Someone else will be by to pick up your tray in a little while,” she told him, not answering his question.

“You might as well take it now.”

“Try to eat something,” she suggested sympathetically.

“What? The half-cooked eggs or the lumpy oatmeal? No, thanks, I'd rather go without.”

“Lunch will be more appetizing,” Norah promised.

His brows arched cynically. “Wanna bet?”

Norah left his room, but she came back a few minutes later with two homemade blueberry muffins. Rowdy's eyes lit up when she set them on his breakfast tray. “I can't believe I'm doing this,” she muttered.

“Where'd you get those?” As if he feared she'd change her mind, he snatched one off the tray.

“I baked last night and brought them in for the staff at coffee break this morning. Enjoy.”

“I intend to.” Already he was peeling away the paper. The first muffin disappeared in three bites. “These are
wonderful,” he said, licking the crumbs from his fingers. “Ever thought about selling the recipe?”

Norah laughed. The recipe had been her mother's and Norah guessed it had originally come from a magazine. “Not lately.”

“Well, if you ever do, let me know.” He was ready to dig into the second one. “By the way, Kincade's stopping by this afternoon, so hold off on those pain shots, will you?”

“Kincade?”

“My corporate attorney. Kincade and I spoke yesterday and he's hand-carrying some papers that have to be signed, so I'm going to need a clear head. Got that?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Rowdy frowned, but said nothing. Norah shrugged, then gathered up the tray and left.

The morning passed quickly and she didn't talk to Rowdy again until near the end of her shift, at three. He was tired and out of sorts. His attorney friend had spent two hours with him, and an exhausted Rowdy had slept fitfully afterward.

“He's much calmer when you're around,” Karen commented as they prepared to leave.

Norah didn't believe for a second that she'd made the slightest difference to Rowdy's behavior. If Karen wanted to thank anyone, it should be Kincade, who'd kept him occupied; at least when he was busy he didn't have time to make everyone else miserable.

On impulse she decided to check on him before she left for home. He was sitting up, listlessly flipping through channels on the television. Apparently nothing appealed to him.

“I didn't know daytime television was in such desperate straits,” he muttered when he saw her. He pushed another button and the screen went blank. “I was hoping you'd stop by before you went home.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked, trying to gauge his mood. He seemed somewhat revived from the nap.

“Lousy.”

Norah was surprised he'd admit it. “Do you want a pain shot?”

He shook his head. “But I wouldn't mind a distraction. Can you sit down and talk for a few minutes?”

Norah made a show of glancing at her watch, although in reality she didn't have a single reason to hurry home. “I can stay for a short while, I guess.” She certainly wasn't being gracious about it, but that didn't seem to bother Rowdy.

“Good.”

Norah was met with the full force of his smile, and for a moment she basked in its warmth. Little wonder he inspired such loyalty and confidence in his employees. He definitely had the charisma of true leadership. Valerie had worked with him for nearly four years, dedicating her time and talent to his corporation until she had practically no life of her own. She'd done it voluntarily, too, inspired by Rowdy's own commitment to CHIPS.

“How'd the meeting with your friend go?” Norah asked conversationally.

He paused as though he'd never considered Kincade his friend. “Fine. Actually, it went very well. We've been able to keep the news of my accident from leaking to the press.”

“What would be so terrible about anyone finding out
you're in the hospital?” Norah shrugged. “Karen mentioned something about the stocks.”

Rowdy cast her an odd look. “You honestly don't know?” He shook his head again. “If the stockholders discovered I was incapacitated, they'd lose confidence in CHIPS and the stock could drop by several points.”

“Would that really be so disastrous?”

“Yes,” he returned without hesitation. “If the value declines by even a single point, that's equivalent to losing millions of dollars. Any greater loss and it becomes catastrophic, with a ripple effect that could rock the entire industry.”

Either the man had an elevated sense of his own worth, or he was pessimistic by nature. Though perhaps she was being unnecessarily harsh, Norah mused. She knew next to nothing about business and finance. Nor did she care. She was content to leave the world's financial affairs in the capable hands of people like Rowdy Cassidy and her sister. She stood abruptly and walked toward the door.

“Do you have to go so soon?” Rowdy asked, disappointment in his dark eyes.

“I'll be right back,” she promised.

It took her several minutes to find what she was looking for.

Rowdy brightened when she returned. “What's that?” he asked, nodding toward the rather battered box she was carrying.

“You do play games, don't you?”

“Often, but I seldom need a board.”

Norah laughed. “Then I promise you this is right up your alley. It's a game of power, intrigue and skill.” She
set the box on the foot of his bed and slowly, dramatically, lifted the lid. She had Rowdy's full attention now.

“Checkers?” he asked with more than a hint of disbelief.

“Checkers.” She drew the bedside table closer, moved his laptop and some flowers and placed the board on it. Then she pulled up a chair. “You want red or black?”

“Black to match my evil temperament.” Rowdy gave an exaggerated leer, twirling an imaginary mustache.

Norah grinned. “I'm not going to argue with you.”

They set up the board together. “Generally when I play a game there's something riding on the outcome,” he said in a relaxed, offhand manner.

“Like what?” Norah pushed a red checker one space forward.

“Usually the stakes are big. It makes the game more…interesting.”

“So what do you think we should wager on this game?” she asked. She'd forgotten how competitive men could be.

“Something small—this time,” he said, studying the board.

“Give me an example.” It'd been a while since she'd played checkers and she wasn't all that sure of her skills. She'd never taken games, any game, too seriously.

“I don't know…” Rowdy paused, apparently mulling it over. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner? You mean after you're discharged from the hospital?”

“No, I mean tonight.”

Norah snickered. “What are you planning to do? Order up a second tray from the kitchen? If that's the case, I'm afraid I'll have to decline.”

“I won't need to order you another dinner tray,” he said
calmly, making his first jump and capturing one of her checkers. “I intend to win.”

Rowdy did exactly that, and his winning streak continued, even when they decided the wager was two games out of three. After her second loss, Rowdy leaned back against the pillows, folded his arms and threw her a self-satisfied smile. “I'd like rare roast beef, a baked potato with sour cream, green beans and three-layer chocolate cake for dessert, preferably with coconut frosting. Homemade would be nice. Do you have a recipe for good chocolate cake?”

Stepping away from his bed, Norah propped her fists on her hips. “Is this your usual diet? Good grief, you're a prime candidate for a heart attack. I'll bet you don't exercise, either.”

“Not recently.” He looked pointedly at his leg. “Are you going to honor your end of the bargain or not?”

“I'm not sure yet. I'll bring your dinner, but don't hold your breath waiting for rare roast beef.”

“I'm a Texan,” he challenged. “I was weaned on prime rib.”

“Then it's high time you started checking your cholesterol, cowboy. My father just went through open-heart surgery and it wasn't any picnic. My advice to you is to make a change in your eating habits now.”

“All right, all right,” Rowdy grumbled. “I'll settle for pizza and to show you how reasonable I can be, go ahead and order it with those little fish. That's healthy, right?”

“Anchovies? Do you know how high in sodium anchovies are?”

“There's no satisfying you, is there?” Rowdy chuckled. “If it isn't my cholesterol level you're fussing
about, it's sodium count or something. Before you leave, you'll have me on a diet of bread and water, which is basically all I've been eating since I got in here, anyway.”

Norah found herself laughing again. “I'll see to my dad's dinner and be back later with your pizza,” she promised on her way out the door.

“Bring that checkerboard,” he told her. “There're a few other wagers I'd like to make.”

Norah had a few of her own. If everything went according to her plans, Rowdy would be as docile as a sleepy cat before he left Orchard Valley Hospital.

“You're later than usual,” her father commented when she walked into the house. “Problems at the hospital?”