Orchard Valley Brides (4 page)

“Not really.” She wasn't sure how much she should tell him about her time with Rowdy. Her own confusion didn't help. The man was in love with her sister, for heaven's sake! And he annoyed her no end with his tactics. The fact that she was attracted to him didn't make any sense. None whatsoever.

“I have to go back to the hospital,” she said on her way upstairs, deciding not to offer any further explanation. She wanted a long bath, a short nap and a change of clothes, in that order.

“Don't worry about dinner,” David called up after her. “I can take care of it. Plenty of leftovers in the fridge. Besides, I had a big lunch, so I don't have too much of an appetite.”

Norah hesitated at the top of the stairs. Her father was right; he was now fully capable of looking after himself. The last thing he needed was her fussing over him. It came as something of a shock to realize that. Then she smiled. It came as a relief, too.

 

The hospital was quiet when Norah returned a couple of hours later. The head floor nurse smiled when she saw her carrying a boxed pizza. “I wondered what you promised him,” LaVern joked. “He's been as good as gold all evening.”

Opening the door with a flourish, Norah marched into Rowdy's room, balancing the pizza on the palm of one hand. “Ta da!”

Rowdy reached for the triangular bar dangling above his head and pulled himself upright. “I was beginning to think you were going to renege on our bet.”

“A Bloomfield? Never!” She set the pizza box on the table and wheeled it to his side. “However I must warn you this pizza is healthy for you.”

“Oh, great, you've ordered granola and broccoli toppings.”

“Close. Mushroom, green pepper, onion. I had them put anchovies on your half. Personally I think you should appreciate my thoughtfulness. I can't stand those slimy little fish things—they're disgusting.”

“Don't worry. I won't force you to eat any.”

“Good.”

Rowdy helped himself to a napkin and lifted the first slice from the box. He raised it slowly to his mouth, then closed his eyes as if in ecstasy as he chewed. “This is excellent, just excellent.”

“I demand a rematch,” Norah said, dragging her chair to his bedside. “When we're finished eating. Winning is a matter of personal pride now.”

“Sore loser,” he mumbled through a mouthful of pizza.

“What!” Norah felt the annoyance rise up inside her.
Rowdy must have noticed it, too, because he grinned. “I was teasing,” he assured her. “Believe me, I don't want to bite the hand that feeds me.”

“You ready for another challenge, then?” Norah asked, eager to clear away the remains of the pizza and set up the board.

“Anytime you want, sweetheart.”

Norah didn't think he meant the term as one of affection and decided to ignore it. At least that was her intention….

But more than once, her concentration drifted away from the game. Before she could stop herself, she wondered what it would feel like to be Rowdy Cassidy's “sweetheart.” He was opinionated and headstrong, but he could charm the birds out of the trees, as her mother used to say. He was also a man who usually got what he wanted—Valerie Bloomfield being one of the few exceptions. Norah felt oddly deflated, suddenly, as she recalled his feelings for her sister.

Almost without being aware of it, she'd lost two games in a row. Not until she made a silly mistake that cost her the second game did she realize they hadn't set their wager.

“What are you going to want next?” she muttered, irritated with herself for losing so easily. “I could bring you another blueberry muffin tomorrow morning.”

Rowdy's smile was downright smug.

“How about three games out of five?” she asked hopefully.

“A deal's a deal.”

“Now that's profound,” Norah said in a sarcastic aside. “Fine.” She spread both hands in a gesture of defeat. “You won. I'm not sure how fair or square it was, but you won.”

“My, my, are you getting testy?”

She couldn't very well admit why she'd been so distracted. She stared down at the board as she rapidly gathered up the checkers. When she'd finished, he reached for her hands, holding them between his own, drawing her closer to his side. She knew she should protest, or make some effort to pull away from him. But she found it difficult to move, to speak, to do anything but gaze into his eyes.

“I'm going to kiss you, Norah Bloomfield,” he said in a quiet, dispassionate voice. “I want that even more than I wanted the pizza.” He gave her hands a tug and then she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her heart was pounding hard against her ribs, her breath coming in short, painful bursts.

His mouth settled over hers, his hands in her hair, pressing her against him. Norah was shocked by the powerful sensuality she experienced. Her eyes closed slowly as excitement overtook common sense.

She didn't doubt for an instant that if she'd made the slightest protest Rowdy would have released her. But his mouth was warm, hard, compelling…

When the kiss ended, she automatically rose to her feet and backed away. She blinked, feeling confused. “Th-that was…unfair,” she stammered.

“Unfair? In what way?” he demanded.

“We didn't set the terms of the wager—I wasn't prepared for it!”

“You needed a warning?”

She brought the tips of her fingers to her lips, at a loss to explain herself. “I'm…not sure. Yes, I think so.” She still felt dazed and it made her furious.

“Norah, what's wrong?”

“I don't think playing checkers was such a good idea, after all,” she said coldly, recovering as well as she could. Her hands trembled as she hurriedly finished putting away the game. It wasn't until she felt a tear roll down the side of her face that she realized she was crying, and that only humiliated her more.

“I didn't mean to offend you,” Rowdy said, his voice regretful.

“Then why'd you do it? Why couldn't we just be friends? Why does everything have to boil down to…to that?”

“You're making a bigger deal out of this than necessary,” he said softly. “I'm sorry if I upset you. It won't happen again.”

Suddenly Norah wasn't sure she wanted that reassurance. She wasn't sure
what
she wanted; that was the problem. As much as she hated to admit it, she'd enjoyed the kiss.

“We heard from Valerie and Colby,” she said abruptly.

He frowned. “Are they having a good time?”

She didn't meet his eyes. “Wonderful.”

“Valerie's going to be bored out of her mind within a month, you know that, don't you?”

Norah shook her head.

“I told her when she handed me her resignation.” His frown deepened. “She knows it, too.”

“Valerie will find something else.”

“In Orchard Valley? Don't count on it. Not with her qualifications. What's she going to do? Run the school lunch program?” Rowdy was growing more animated by the minute. “Ridiculous woman, letting her emotions dictate her life. I expected better of her.”

“My sister made her choice, Mr. Cassidy. If anyone was being ridiculous, it's you.”

His mouth tightened at her words and Norah marveled that they could be wrapped in each other's arms one moment and sniping at each other the next.

“She and this Carlton fellow will be very happy, I'm sure,” Rowdy said stiffly. He leaned back against the pillows and grimaced in obvious pain.

“It's Colby.”

“Whoever,” he snapped irritably.

Norah knew it was the discomfort speaking now, and relaxed. “I'll ask LaVern to bring you some pain meds.”

“I don't need anything,” he growled.

“Perhaps not, but as a favor to me, please take it.”

“I don't owe you any favors.”

Norah was offended by the sharpness of his tone. He glared at her as if he couldn't wait for her to be gone, reminding her once again that it was Valerie he was interested in—not her.

“All right,” he said curtly. “I'll take the pills. Just stop looking at me like I've done something terrible. It was only a kiss! You'd think no one had ever kissed you before.”

At his words, Norah understood. That was
exactly
the way she felt, as if Rowdy Cassidy had been the first man to hold her. The first man to kiss her. It was as if she'd waited all her life for this moment, this man.

She turned and rushed from the room.

 

Norah dreaded the next morning, since she was scheduled to report to Rowdy's floor again. She avoided seeing him as long as possible—an entire fifteen minutes into her shift.

“Good morning,” she greeted him with a bright smile.

“Sounds like you're in better spirits than you were the last time I saw you,” he said, watching her closely.

“Having one's ego destroyed in a game of checkers will do that,” Norah said with false cheerfulness, carrying his breakfast tray to the bedside table.

“Was it the checkers…or the kiss?”

“It looks like lumpy oatmeal and soft-boiled eggs this morning,” she said, ignoring his words.

“Norah.” His hand covered hers, preventing her from leaving.

“The checkers,” she said dryly. “You flatter yourself if you think a kiss would unsettle me like that. I'm a big girl, Mr. Cassidy.”

“Then perhaps we should try again.”

“Don't be absurd.”

Rowdy's hand tightened over hers. “It isn't as preposterous as you make it seem. You're very sweet, Norah Bloomfield. A man could get accustomed to having you around.”

Norah hesitated, not knowing if she should take his words as a compliment or an insult. “I'm not a plaything for your personal amusement. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do.”

“Will you stop by later?”

“If I have the time.” Her back was to him; she was eager to make her escape.

“If you bring the checkers game I'll give you another chance to redeem yourself. I might even let you win just so I can give you what
you
want.”

“Ah, but that's where we differ,” she said as breezily as she could. “You see, Mr. Cassidy, you don't have anything I want.”

“Ouch,” he said and as she left the room she glanced over her shoulder to see him clutching at an imaginary wound. She didn't want to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

Three hours had passed when Karen Johnson sought her out. “Check on the cowboy, would you, Norah? Something's wrong.”

“Why me?” Norah protested.

“You're the only one who can go near him without getting your head ripped off.”

“Did he ask for me?”

Karen frowned slightly. “Yes, but don't feel too complimented. He's throwing out plenty of names, including the governor's and a couple of congressmen. It wouldn't surprise me if they rushed to his side, either.”

Karen hadn't exaggerated. By the time Norah arrived from the far end of the corridor, she could hear Rowdy ranting. His words, however, were indistinguishable, which in Norah's opinion was probably for the best.

“Rowdy,” she said, standing in the doorway, hands on her hips. “What's going on in here?”

He looked up at her, placing his hand on the telephone's mouthpiece. “Word leaked out that I was in a plane crash.” He sighed heavily. “CHIPS stock has already dropped two points. We're in one hell of a mess here.”

“D
o you know of a decent secretarial service?” Rowdy demanded as soon as Norah walked in the door the next morning. He might have been sitting behind a mahogany desk preparing to command his empire. His dark eyes were sharp and alert, his jaw tense.

“Uh…I don't think so.”

“What I need is a phone book.”

Taken aback, Norah turned and pointed behind her. “There's one at the end of the hall.”

“Get it,” he said, then added, “Please.”

Still Norah hesitated. “Rowdy, you seem to have forgotten you're in a hospital and not a hotel.”

“I wouldn't care if I was in the morgue. I'm not about to watch the business I built—ten years of blood and sweat—go down the tubes because of a stupid broken leg.”

“Your leg's far more than—”

“The telephone book,” he reminded her crisply.

Norah threw her hands in the air and retrieved the phone book from the nurses' station.

“This is it?” Rowdy's eyes widened incredulously when she handed it to him. “I've read short stories longer than this.”

“There's always Portland, but to be honest I don't know where I'd find a Portland directory.”

“Kincade and Robbins are flying in. They'll be here by noon. I hate to ask my assistant, Ms. Emerich, to travel, but I may not have any choice. Advise the administration here that I'll be holding a press conference this afternoon.” He rubbed the side of his jaw, his expression thoughtful. “While you're at it, would you arrange to have a barber drop by sometime this morning? I'm going to need a decent haircut and a shave.”

“Rowdy, this is a
hospital.
”

“Not anymore,” he told her flatly.

“I don't have time to be running errands for you. In case you've forgotten, you're not the only patient on this floor. I can't allow you to disrupt the entire wing with camera crews and the like.”

“The excitement will do them good,” he told her, leafing through the Orchard Valley directory. “It'll give your patients something to tell their families during visiting hours.”

Norah was beginning to get irritated. “You're not listening to me.”

He went on as if she hadn't spoken, his eyes narrowed and resolute. “I'm going to hold a press conference and if I can't do it from here, I'll find someplace I can.”

“You can't be moved.”

“Don't bet on it.”

Norah didn't, not for an instant. Rowdy would have
his way, simply because he made it impossible to oppose him and win.

Norah left him and reported what he'd told her to Karen Johnson. She was never quite sure what happened next. But before the morning ended, the hospital administrator, James Bolton, had visited Rowdy's room. Norah had no way of knowing what was discussed, but she learned a little later that a number of reporters and two camera crews would be brought into Rowdy's room early that same afternoon. Just as he'd predicted.

Orchard Valley General Hospital had never seen anything like it. Charles Tomaselli, Steffie's fiancé, showed up, and cornered Norah to ask if she could get him into the press conference.

Norah shrugged. “I'll try.” She did and when she came back with a
yes,
was rewarded with a thumbs-up from Charles.

By two that afternoon, the ward looked more like a media carnival than a hospital.

“Did you ever dream it'd come to this?” Karen asked her, leaning against the counter at the nurses' station as she viewed the proceedings.

Norah shook her head. She didn't know if Rowdy had the physical stamina to withstand a lengthy interview. The news conference had been going on for nearly an hour, with no sign of ending anytime soon.

Reporters were crammed inside his hospital room, spilling out into the hallway and jostling one another. Cameras flashed as microphones were thrust in Rowdy's direction.

Patients from the other rooms stood in their doorways,
gawking, trying to find out what they could. Rumors washed like floods through the hospital corridors.

At one point Norah heard the president was visiting. Someone else claimed royalty had arrived. Two other people were convinced they'd seen Elvis.

From the corner of her eye, Norah saw Kincade, Rowdy's corporate attorney. He seemed to be searching through the crowd, looking for someone. Intuitively, she realized what was happening. Rowdy had worn himself out.

“Excuse me,” Norah said, thinking and acting quickly. Carrying a tray in one hand and a syringe in the other, she edged her way through the reporters and camera crews. The news staff reluctantly parted to make a path for her. She moved into the room, then held up one hand to shade her eyes from the blinding light. In an instant she saw that Kincade's concerns were well-founded. Rowdy was pale and definitely growing weaker, although he struggled to disguise it.

“You'll have to excuse me,” she said in her most businesslike voice. “This will just take a couple of minutes. It's time for Mr. Cassidy's enema.”

The room cleared within seconds.

Rowdy waited until the last reporter had left, then burst out laughing. Kincade and the other man Rowdy had referred to as Robbins were the only two who remained.

“Very clever,” Kincade said with a smile.

“She isn't any good at checkers, but she's one heck of a nurse,” Rowdy said. He lowered himself onto the pillows and closed his eyes in exhaustion. “You'll arrange everything for me, Robbins?” he asked hoarsely.

“Right away,” the other man assured him.

Briefly, Norah wondered if Rowdy even knew the first names of his staff members. It was Kincade and Robbins. But he'd always referred to her sister as Valerie. He knew
her
first name.

She was about to comment, then noticed that Rowdy was already asleep. Without another word, she ushered the two men out of the room.

“Thanks,” Kincade whispered gratefully.

She nodded. It was her job to look out for the welfare of her patients. She hadn't done anything extraordinary. Her means might have been a little unorthodox, but effective.

Robbins was tall and wiry and young, and Kincade was short, stocky and middle-aged. Both men were dressed in identical dark suits—the CHIPS uniforms, Norah thought wryly. She remembered her sister wearing the female version of that business suit. Though, strangely, Norah couldn't imagine Rowdy in anything but jeans and cowboy boots.

“I understand you're Valerie's sister,” Robbins said in a conversational tone.

“That's right.” She'd forgotten that the two men had probably worked with Valerie.

“We all miss her.”

But not as much as Rowdy does,
Norah mused and was surprised by a sharp, fleeting pain at the thought.

“Rowdy's transferring me to Portland to head up the expansion project,” Robbins said, eyeing Norah as if she had information to give. “I was hoping that once I got settled, Valerie would consider working with me.”

“I don't know,” Norah told him. “You'll have to talk to her.”

Robbins glanced nervously toward Rowdy's room. “Don't say anything to Rowdy. Valerie was by far the more logical choice, but I don't think those two parted on amicable terms. He accepted her resignation and then gave me the assignment that same day. Personally, I'd rather stay in Texas.”

It went without saying that Robbins would move simply because Rowdy had asked it of him. Oregon. Alaska. Anywhere. Whatever other talents Rowdy possessed, and Norah didn't doubt there were many, he inspired loyalty among his employees.

“Valerie and her husband are on their honeymoon. She should be back from Hawaii sometime this week. You might have the opportunity to tell her all this yourself,” Norah said, then turned away.

“Ms.—Bloomfield.”

This time it was Kincade, the corporate attorney, who addressed her. “Thanks again,” he said.

“No problem. I was happy to be of help.”

“This isn't easy for him,” the attorney added. “Rowdy's a physical man and being tied down to his bed, literally, is driving him to distraction. If it wasn't for you, I don't know what he would've done.”

“Wasn't for me?” Norah hadn't done much of anything. She'd provided a little entertainment with the checkers, a little nourishment with the pizza and muffins, and she'd fallen in with his schemes, like everyone else in the hospital. But that was it.

“He's mentioned you several times. All of us at CHIPS want you to know we appreciate everything you've done for him.”

Norah nodded, accepting his gratitude, but she felt
uncomfortably like a fraud. Rowdy must have greatly exaggerated the small things she'd done.

 

Later that afternoon, just before she was scheduled to be relieved from her shift, the office equipment began to arrive. First came a fax machine, followed by a second computer, a desktop model, complete with printer. Then two men carrying a desk with an inverted chair balanced on top passed her in the corridor.

“What's going on
now?
” Karen asked, rubbing her eyes as if she were seeing things.

“I have the feeling,” Norah muttered, “that Rowdy Cassidy is about to set up office—in a
big
way.”

Norah followed the desk and chair to Rowdy's room and stood staring in amazement at the transformation. He'd done exactly what she'd suspected. This wasn't a hospital room any longer, but a communications center. A man from the telephone company was busy installing a multiline phone. Heaven only knew how many lines Rowdy had ordered.

“I hate to intrude,” she said sarcastically, “knowing how busy you are and all—but
what
is going on in here?”

“What does it look like?” Rowdy returned curtly. “I'm getting back to work.”

“Here?”

“I don't have much choice. Robbins will be in bright and early tomorrow with my assistant, Ms. Emerich. I'll be handling as many of my own affairs as I can.”

“I only hope Dr. Silverman and the rest of the hospital staff don't get in your way.”

Rowdy didn't hear the sarcasm in her voice, or if he did, he ignored it. Norah sighed.

“Rowdy, this is a hospital. You're here to recover so you can go back to your life. You can't conduct business as usual. I'm sorry, I really am, but—”

“Either I conduct my business or there won't be one to go back to,” he announced starkly.

“You're exaggerating.”

“All four lines are connected and working,” the telephone installer said, setting the phone on the bedside table.

“Thank you,” Rowdy said as the man walked out the door. “Listen, Norah, you're a good nurse,” he continued, “but you don't know…checkers about managing a corporation. Now loosen up before I tell everyone what a poor sport you are.”

Norah felt the warmth invade her cheeks.

“This all right over here?” one of the men who'd hauled in the desk asked.

“Perfect,” Rowdy answered, barely glancing in that direction. “Thank you for your trouble.”

The two men left, closing the door behind them. As soon as he was alone with her, Rowdy reached for Norah's hand. “Have you recovered?” he asked, his eyes holding hers.

“I'm not the one who's sick.”

“I meant from the kiss.”

His comment intensified the heat in her face. “I—I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Yes, you do. You've been thinking about it every minute since.” He added in a whisper, “So have I.”

“Uh…” What bothered Norah most was how accurate he was. She'd spent a lot of time reflecting on their kiss, despite all her efforts to push it from her mind. She'd dreaded being alone with Rowdy again, fearing he'd know how confused and flustered his touch had left her.

“You're a beautiful woman, Norah.” He pressed her palm to his lips. The feel of his tongue against her skin sent hot sensation shooting up her arm.

Norah trembled and closed her eyes. He was drawing her closer to his side and like an obedient lamb she went to him. He reached for her and, finally, somewhere deep inside, she found the strength to resist.

“No…no, Rowdy. I'm Norah, not Valerie. I don't think you've figured out the difference yet.” She backed away from him and hurried out of the room. He called for her once, his voice sharp with impatience, but Norah ignored him.

 

The afternoon was overcast and gloomy; rain threatened. Norah found her father sitting in his favorite chair beside the fireplace in his den, reading.

“I understand there was quite a commotion at the hospital this afternoon,” he said, glancing up from his novel.

“You heard? Already?”

“Charles stopped in and gave Steffie and me a rundown of what happened. Sounds like a three-ring circus.”

“It was ridiculous.”

Her father chuckled. “I also heard how you broke up the news conference. I always knew you were a clever child, I just don't think I fully appreciated
how
clever.”

“Rowdy Cassidy's impossible.”

“Oh?” Although the question appeared casual, Norah wasn't fooled. Her father was doing his best to gauge how the relationship between her and Rowdy was developing. The situation with Rowdy was very like his own thirty years earlier, when he'd met Grace, who'd been a nurse, and married her. Theirs had been a hospital romance.
Although her father hadn't said much, Norah knew he was hoping history would repeat itself.

In a way it troubled Norah that he hadn't questioned her more about her relationship with Valerie's former employer. She should've been relieved. He'd barely asked about Rowdy, barely revealed any interest. Nor had he mentioned his near-death dream lately, other than that one cryptic remark about Rowdy's arriving right on schedule. She certainly didn't believe her father's dream—in which he'd supposedly had a conversation, complete with predictions about all three sisters. But it had sustained him and delighted him for so long that she actually found his silence disturbing.