Summer in Orchard Valley: Valerie / Stephanie / Norah

“You’re much better suited to Colby.”

“Me?” Valerie asked, her voice rising in astonishment. Hadn’t Norah just finished describing the kind of woman Colby wanted—a woman completely unlike Valerie?

“I’ve seen the looks the two of you exchange,” Norah continued thoughtfully. “I’m not blind, you know. I can feel the attraction between you. It’s mutual—and it’s hot.”

“Really,” Valerie said, becoming preoccupied with the crease in her wool trousers.

“Yes, really!”

“Yes, well, I’ll admit we’re attracted to each other, but nothing’s going to come of it.” She glanced at her watch, wanting an excuse to leave. “I’m going to stop in and see Dad.”

Norah’s smile seemed all-knowing. “Okay.”

David Bloomfield’s color was better, and he grinned happily when he saw his eldest daughter.

“Hello, Dad,” she said in a cheerful voice as she leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“Valerie,” he whispered, holding out his hand to her. “Listen, sweetheart, you’re spending too much time at the hospital. Take the day and get out in the sunshine. You’re beginning to look pale.”

“But …”

“It’ll do you good. No more sleeping on some dilapidated couch in the waiting room, either.”

She’d slept in her own bed in her own room for the first time the night before. In the morning, she’d been astonished at how well rested she felt. And she’d indulged in a long, hot shower, followed by a good breakfast—cooked by Norah.

The crews were just beginning to spray the apple trees under the direction of Dale Howard, the orchard manager. She’d heard the familiar sounds of men working in the orchards. It brought back memories of years past, of racing down the long, even rows, and climbing onto the low limbs of the trees, sitting there like a princess surveying her magical kingdom. Orchard Valley was magical, a town set apart.

For Valerie, coming home was like escaping to the past. The people were friendly, the neighbors neighborly, and problems were shared. It was a little piece of heaven.

“I wasn’t at the hospital last night,” she told him, pulling herself out of her musings. She loved Orchard Valley more than any place on earth, but she’d never be satisfied living here. There wasn’t enough challenge, not enough to tax her mind. No, Houston was her future and she accepted that with only one regret. Colby.

“So I heard,” her father answered. “I saw Colby earlier.”

Valerie watched his expression, hoping for—what?—some sign, some indication of her father’s thoughts. And of Colby’s.

There was none.

“Well? What did the good doctor have to say?”

“Nothing much.”

“Did he mention me?” she couldn’t prevent herself from asking.

“Nope, can’t say he did. Does that disappoint you?”

“Of course not.”

“Is there any reason he should mention you?”

Valerie was sorry she’d brought up the subject. “Not that I know of.”

Her answers seemed to make him smile. “So you like my doctor?”

“He’s been wonderful to you,” Valerie said.

“I wasn’t talking about me,” David told her gruffly. “I’m referring to you. You’re attracted to him, aren’t you, Valerie? You were never very good at hiding your feelings.”

“I’ve never met a man who appeals to me more,” Valerie said truthfully. There was no point in trying to deceive her father. He knew her all too well, and he understood her better than anyone, sometimes better than she understood herself.

“He feels the same way?” The question was calm, as though he were speaking to a child.

Valerie lowered her eyes before shaking her head. “It’d never work, and we both know it.”

She expected an argument from her father, was even looking for one. She wanted him to tell her she was wrong, that love could work when two people were committed to each other. That it wouldn’t matter how dissimilar they were, how differently they viewed life. That nothing mattered but the love they shared.

Her father, however, didn’t respond.

Discouraged, Valerie said goodbye and returned to the waiting room. On her way, she saw that Norah sat talking to another doctor at the end of the hallway. She was grateful her sister had left, because she needed time alone to think.

If she wanted evidence that people with very different personalities could fall in love and make the relationship work, she need look no further than her own parents. The story of how they’d met and fallen in love was like a fairy tale, one that, as a child, she’d never tired of hearing.

Her father had gone to university and obtained his degree in business administration. Armed with his dreams, he’d built a financial empire and became a millionaire within a few years. Then he’d collapsed with rheumatic fever, nearly losing his life. While he was in the hospital recuperating, he’d met a young nurse. David knew the moment he met Grace Johnson that he was going to love her. It never occurred to him that she’d refuse his marriage proposal.

Several months of relentless pursuit later, he’d convinced Grace to marry him. Despite the fact that she was deeply in love with David, Grace had been afraid. She was a preacher’s daughter who’d lived a simple life. David was a business tycoon who’d taken automation technology to new industry heights. Grace’s fears about a marriage to David Bloomfield were warranted. But over the years, love had proven even the most hardened skeptics wrong, and the two had lived and loved together until her mother’s death a few years before.

Her own romance wasn’t going to have a fairy-tale ending, the way her parents’ had. Her father knew it, too, otherwise he would’ve been the first to encourage her.

Her father, however, had said nothing.

Valerie was working in the den on her laptop, putting files in order, when she saw the red car hurtle down the driveway. She thought, for one hopeful moment, that it might be Colby, but then remembered he drove a maroon Buick. Still, she hastened to answer the door.

It was Charles Tomaselli, looking tired and frustrated.

“Have you heard from Stephanie?” he demanded without so much as a greeting.

Her sister’s absence had been weighing on Valerie’s mind, too. She’d done everything she could think of; she’d even placed a call to the American Embassy in Rome, with no results.

“I haven’t heard a word. I don’t know what could’ve happened to her.”

“How late is she?”

Valerie had to think for a moment. In the past week, she’d lost all track of time. “Norah was the last person to speak to Steffie,” she explained. “Let me see—that was just before Dad’s surgery. Steffie thought she’d be home within twenty-four hours.”

“That was forty-eight hours ago.”

He didn’t need to remind her, Valerie thought irritably. “She’s coming by way of Tokyo.”

“Tokyo? She’s flying to Oregon via Japan?” Charles snapped.