Orchard Valley Brides

by Debbie Macomber

  “I’m sure she did, but once we were a bit older she used her medical skills in other ways. When the migrant workers came to pick apples at our orchard and a couple of neighboring ones, Mom organized a health clinic for them. She did this for years—until she became too ill to do it any longer. Then she and Dad set up a fund so the workers and their families could afford to go to the clinic in Orchard Valley.” Norah swallowed hard. “She was a very special woman, Rowdy. I wish you’d known her.”

  “I wish I had, too, but I already guessed she was special. She raised you, didn’t she?”

  That was about as romantic as Rowdy ever got with her. Norah didn’t expect flowery words from him, certainly nothing more than a careless term of affection. Like “angel face”…

  “It’d be a whole lot more convenient for us if you worked regular hours like everyone else,” Rowdy said after a moment. “Some days you’re on duty, some days you’re not. Half the time you end up staying later than you’re scheduled to. I’m surprised you don’t burn out with those long hours.”

  “Me work long hours?” she challenged with a short laugh. “Ha! You do the same thing. Even more so. I’m surprised you didn’t burn out years ago.”

  “That’s different.”

  “It is not,” she insisted, “and we both know that. Only you’re too proud to admit it.” She paused thoughtfully. “Rowdy,” she said, “I do agree that there’s a difference. My life isn’t dictated by my job the way yours is.”

  “What’s so unusual about my dedication to CHIPS?” Rowdy countered sharply. “Don’t forget I started the company. CHIPS is more than a job. No one’s hiring me to work eighteen hours a day—I do it by choice.”

  Norah was well aware of the truth of his words. With a small inward sigh, she changed the topic, asking questions instead about the San Francisco meetings.

  When she’d finished the call, she wandered downstairs. Without consciously realizing where she’d been headed, she found herself standing in the doorway of her father’s den.

  “Would you like a cup of hot chocolate?” she asked. The offer was an excuse to talk, and she suspected her father would recognize it as such.

  He did. Setting aside his book, he glanced up at her. “Sure. Would you like some help?”

  Before she had a chance to answer, he stood and followed her into the kitchen. While she took out the saucepan, her father retrieved the milk from the refrigerator. Norah was gratified to see how much more energetic he’d become lately; his recovery really had been miraculous, she decided.

  “How’s Rowdy?” he asked almost as if he’d known exactly what she wanted to discuss.

  “Good,” she answered, hoping to appear nonchalant. “He’s taking a business trip to San Francisco in the morning. I asked him how often he’s been there, and he told me he’s visited the Bay area a dozen times in the past half year.”

  “As I recall, Valerie took several trips there with him.”

  “I remember that,” Norah said, “but did you know that in spite of all those times Rowdy’s visited San Francisco, he’s never been down to Fisherman’s Wharf or walked through Chinatown or taken a cruise around the Bay? When I pressed him, he admitted he’s never seen anything more than the airport and the inside of a hotel meeting room.”

  “Rowdy Cassidy’s a busy man.”

  “Don’t you get it?” Norah cried, surprised by the strength of her emotion. “He’s working himself to death, and for what? Some software company that will pass on to a distant relative he hasn’t seen in twenty years. A relative who’ll probably just sell his share of the stock. To strangers!”

  “It bothers you that Rowdy doesn’t have any heirs?” her father asked as he brought down two earthenware mugs.

  “What bothers me,” she returned heatedly, “is that he’s working himself to death for no real reason. He’s a candidate for a heart attack—the same way you were. He’s got atrocious eating habits, doesn’t exercise and works too hard.”

  David nodded and grinned. “You know what it sounds like to me?” he asked, and not waiting for a reply added, “Rowdy Cassidy needs a wife. Don’t you agree?”

  As hard as she tried to concentrate on her own duties, Norah couldn’t keep her mind off Rowdy. He’d already told her he wouldn’t be able to call her, since his meetings with the stockholders would last until all hours of the night. For reasons she didn’t understand, Norah was restless all afternoon.

  When she arrived home she found her father weeding the garden she’d planted earlier that summer. He straightened and waved when he saw her.

  “Looks like we’ve got enough lettuce here for a decent salad.”

  Norah crouched down in the freshly weeded row and picked a handful of radishes. “We can add a few of these, as well.”

  It was good to see her father soaking up the sunshine, looking healthy and relaxed. He was working part-time, managing the orchard, which kept him occupied without overtaxing him.

  “Before I forget,” her father said, “an envelope was delivered for you this afternoon. I think it’s from Rowdy.”

  Norah didn’t linger outside a moment longer. She couldn’t imagine what Rowdy had sent her, but she wasn’t waiting to find out. When they’d spoken the night before, he hadn’t mentioned anything.

  The envelope was propped against a vase of roses left over from Steffie’s wedding. Norah’s name was inked with a lavish hand across the front. Eagerly tearing it open, she discovered a first-class airline ticket to Houston.

  Norah stared at it before she slowly replaced it in the envelope, which she set back on the end table. Apparently Rowdy had forgotten she was scheduled to work that weekend.

  The phone rang, and when she answered she heard Rowdy’s voice. “Norah,” he said, “I’m glad I caught you. Listen, I’ve only got a couple of minutes between meetings. I wanted to be sure the ticket was delivered. This is crazy. I’m supposed to be here negotiating an important deal, but all I can think about is how long it’s going to be before I can see you again. Trust me, this is no way to run a company.”

  “I can’t fly to Houston this weekend, Rowdy,” she said without preamble. “You already know that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m working, remember?”

  “Forgot.” He swore under his breath. “Can’t you get a replacement?”

  “Not easily. Weekends are precious to us all, and even more so to people who are married and have families.”

  He didn’t hesitate for an instant. “Tell whoever will work in your place that I’ll pay them ten times what they normally make in a weekend. I need to see you, Norah.”

  “I won’t do that.”

  She could feel his anger. “Why not?”

  “I can talk until I’m blue in the face and you still won’t understand. Just take my word for it. Your plan won’t work.”

  “You mean to say there isn’t a single nurse in Orchard Valley who’d leap at the chance to earn ten times her normal salary just for working your shift?”

  Norah could see that nothing useful would result from her arguing. “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  Norah sighed. “You’re entitled to believe anything you wish, but I know the people I work with. It may come as a shock to you, but family is more important than money.”

  “Damn it,” Rowdy said angrily. “Why do you make it so difficult?”

  “Rowdy, I can’t live my life to suit yours. I’m sorry, I really am, but I have a commitment to my job and to my peers. I can’t rush off to Texas because you happen to want me there. Nor will I allow our relationship to become nothing more than a few hours snatched between meetings and at airports.”

  “You seem to be taking a good deal for granted,” he said stiffly.

  “How’s that?”

  “Who told you we had a relationship?”

  Norah breathed in sharply at the pain his words inflicted. “Certainly not you,” she answered calmly, belying th
e turmoil she felt. “You’re right, of course,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I—I guess I’d put more stock in our friendship than you intended. I apologize, Rowdy, for taking our—my—feelings for granted—”

  “Norah,” he interrupted. “I didn’t mean that.”

  She could hear a conversation going on behind Rowdy, but she couldn’t make out the details.

  “Norah, I’ve got to go. Everyone’s waiting on me.”

  “I know…I’m sorry about this weekend, Rowdy, but it can’t be helped. Please understand.”

  “I’m trying, Norah. Heaven help me, I’m trying. If I get a chance later, I’ll give you a call.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t want their conversation to end on a negative note, but knew it was impossible for him to talk longer.

  “Rowdy,” she called, her heart pounding. “I…love you.”

  Her words were met with the drone of a disconnected line. He hadn’t heard her, and even if he had, would it have made any difference?

  Norah showed up for work on Saturday morning, her thoughts bleak. She’d been reassigned to the emergency room, but her heart was in a plane somewhere over California on its way to Houston, Texas.

  Refusing Rowdy’s offer to spend the weekend with him had been one of the most difficult things she’d ever done. And yet she’d had no choice.

  Her relationship with Rowdy—and she did believe they had a relationship, his harsh words to the contrary—had made it over several hurdles. They were only beginning to understand and appreciate each other. Despite the present and future problems, Norah felt a new and still shaky confidence, a sense of optimism.

  She hadn’t heard from Rowdy, other than that one harried phone call, since he’d left Texas. She remembered his saying that he’d be back in Houston sometime Saturday afternoon. Norah planned to leave the hospital at three and hoped to hear from Rowdy shortly after she got home.

  He hadn’t said he’d call, but she hoped—Norah pulled herself up short. She was doing it already. Although she’d promised herself she’d never allow a man to rule her life, she’d willingly surrendered her heart—and her freedom—to Rowdy Cassidy. There wasn’t a single reason to hurry home, she reminded herself. If Rowdy phoned while she was out, she’d return his call later.

  Satisfied that she’d put her thinking back on track, she went about her duties. A little after eleven, the new intern, Dr. Fullbright, came into the emergency room to tell her she had a visitor in the waiting room. She immediately assumed it was Valerie, who sometimes dropped in to visit Colby.

  When she saw Rowdy standing there, she stopped cold. He looked exhausted. His eyes were sunken and his features pale, but it didn’t matter to Norah. Never had she been more thrilled to see anyone.

  “Rowdy?” she whispered, walking into his arms. One crutch fell to the floor as he held her against him. Norah reveled in the sensation of solid warmth and felt an unexpected urge to weep. He was pushing himself too hard, putting in too many hours.

  She’d repeatedly refused his offer to become his private nurse, and for the first time she wondered if she’d made a mistake. Obviously he did need someone.

  She knew from what Robbins had said that Rowdy hadn’t hired a replacement for Valerie and Norah assumed he was continuing to carry both loads himself.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “If you wouldn’t come to me, I decided I’d have to come to you.” His hand tangled in her hair as he spoke. “Have you had lunch yet?”

  “No. I’ll check and see if I can go now. We’re not too busy, but I’ll need to stay on the hospital grounds.”

  Rowdy nodded. “Can we go someplace private?”

  If there was any such place in the hospital, Norah had yet to find it. “The cafeteria shouldn’t be very crowded.”

  Rowdy didn’t look wildly enthusiastic at her suggestion, but he agreed.

  Norah led the way to the elevator, smiling at the two nurses already inside and regretted that she and Rowdy couldn’t be alone. If they’d had at least the brief elevator ride to themselves, she might have found the courage to repeat what she’d confessed at the end of their last telephone conversation.

  Norah was right; the cafeteria wasn’t crowded and they were afforded some privacy in the farthest corner. Once Rowdy was comfortably seated, his crutches leaning against the wall, he caught her hand, effectively preventing her from moving to the opposite side of the table. “Sit beside me, Norah.”

  Something in his voice, in the way he was looking at her, told Norah this wasn’t an ordinary conversation. When he’d asked for someplace private she’d assumed it was because he wanted to kiss her.

  “Yes?” she asked, taking the seat.

  Rowdy glanced around, apparently checking for eavesdroppers. “All right,” he said with a heavy sigh. “You win.”

  “I win?” she repeated, frowning.

  “I knew from the first what you wanted.”

  “You did?”

  “It’s what every woman wants. A gold ring on her left hand. I told you earlier, and I meant it, I’m not the marrying kind. I don’t have time for a wife and a family.”

  Norah was utterly confused, but she said nothing.

  “I couldn’t sleep last night,” he went on, “until I’d figured out your game plan. Even when I had, it didn’t make any difference. I love you so much I can’t think clearly anymore.”

  Norah remained bewildered. She’d tried to tell him she loved him, but he hadn’t heard her in his rush to get back to his meeting.

  “I love you, too, Rowdy,” she told him now, her voice soft.

  His eyes gentled. “That helps. Not much, but…it helps.”

  Norah shook her head in confusion. “I’m afraid I’ve missed something here. What are you trying to say?”

  His mouth fell. “You mean you don’t know?”

  Norah shook her head again.

  “I’m asking you to marry me. I’m not happy about it, but as far as I can see it’s the only way.”

  Nine

  “You’re not happy about asking me to marry you,” Norah echoed, too stunned to know what she was feeling.

  “I told you before that I had no intention of ever marrying.”

  “Then what are you doing proposing to me?” she demanded. “Did you think I was so desperate for a husband I’d leap at your offer?” The numbness was gradually wearing away, and she was furious.

  Norah had always been the Bloomfield with the cool head and the even temper. But her much-practiced calm was no match for this situation. Only a man like Rowdy Cassidy would have the nerve to insult a woman and propose marriage to her in the same breath.

  “You’re not desperate. It’s just that—”

  “That’s not what I heard,” she interrupted. “According to this oh-so-romantic proposal, you’re declaring me the winner of some great prize, which I guess is you. Well, I’ve got news for you, Rowdy Cassidy. I wasn’t even aware I’d entered the contest!”

  Rowdy clenched his jaw in an unmistakable effort to hold on to his own temper. “I don’t believe that. You have me so tied up in knots, I don’t know which way is which anymore. It wasn’t enough that you turned down the job, but you had to torment me by dating other men!”

  “One date! How was I supposed to know you’d want to see me the one and only night I’d made other arrangements? I’m not a mind reader, you know. Was I supposed to be so flattered, so—so overwhelmed by your summons that I’d cancel my evening with Ray?”

  “Yes!” he shouted.

  “I refused to do that then, and I refuse to do it now. I will not spend my life waiting for an opening in your absolutely ridiculous schedule.”

  Rowdy’s hand sliced the air between them. “All right, fine. Let’s just drop this thing with Ralph.”

  “Ray!” she shouted, attracting attention from those around her.

  Both were silent for several embarrassed moments.

  Finally, Rowdy exhaled sharply and said,
“Shall we try this again?” He studied her through half-closed eyes before proceeding. “I’ll admit there were better ways of asking you to be my wife. My only excuse is that I’ve had almost no sleep in the past thirty hours.”

  Norah mellowed somewhat. “Thirty hours?”

  Rowdy nodded. “It didn’t help that I was looking forward to you being there when I returned home. You might recall that you turned me down on that, as well.”

  “It’s not as though I didn’t want to be with you,” she assured him. “But you knew I was scheduled to work this weekend—I’d told you so myself, remember?”

  “What’s more important,” he said through gritted teeth, “your job or me?”

  “We keep rehashing the same thing,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “You want me to be at your beck and call. You’re suggesting I should spend my life in limbo, waiting for you to find time for me.”

  “That’s not what I mean at all,” he said in a dangerously quiet voice. “But if you cared about me half as much as I care about you, you’d be willing to make a few minor adjustments.”

  “You want far more than minor adjustments! You want absolute control and I refuse to give you that.”

  “You’re not even willing to compromise,” he said bitterly. “With you, it’s all or nothing.” He looked away from her, glaring.

  “Rowdy, I am willing to compromise. All I’m asking for is a little advance warning, so I know what to expect. Do you realize everything we’ve done has been on the spur of the moment? Nothing has ever been planned.”

  He nodded a bit sheepishly. “That’s not typical for me, you know. Falling in love with you has shot my concentration, not to mention my organizational abilities, all to hell.”

  “Oh, Rowdy.” He could be so sweet and funny when he wanted. But he acted as if loving her was some kind of…weakness. He didn’t see love as something that gave you strength, the way Norah did.

  “Norah,” he said. His hand reached for hers and his gaze was level with her own. “I love you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  The tears that filled her eyes and her throat made speaking impossible. All because she loved him so much…. Norah blinked, then grabbed a napkin from the shiny chrome dispenser in the middle of the table and blew her nose.