“I’ve given your father something to help him rest,” Colby went on. “He should sleep through the night without a problem, so if you want to drive home and join your sister—”
“No,” Valerie interrupted quickly. “I won’t leave Dad. I understand that I can’t see him yet, but I want to be here…in case anything happens. It’s important to me.”
“That’s fine.”
Valerie was grateful. “Thank you.”
He nodded, then yawned, revealing for the first time his own fatigue. “I’ve left orders that I’m to be contacted the minute there’s any change in his condition.”
“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”
“No thanks necessary. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
Valerie smiled and sat down to leaf through a six-month-old news magazine. She’d just finished reading the letters to the editor when the nurse appeared, carrying a pillow and a blanket.
“Dr. Winston thought you might need these,” she said, setting the bundle down next to Valerie.
It was a thoughtful thing to do, she mused later as she rested her head against the pillow and tucked the thin blanket around her shoulders. She felt a twinge of guilt, especially since she’d already decided to call in the country’s top heart surgeon first thing in the morning.
By noon, it was unlikely that her father would still be a patient of Dr. Colby Winston’s.
He liked her, Colby realized. He’d been prepared not to. Valerie Bloomfield was everything her father had claimed. Professional, astute and lovely. But when it came to relationships, she was precisely the type of woman Colby made a point of avoiding.
He liked his women soft and feminine. He was looking for a wife, and David Bloomfield had somehow intuited that, or he wouldn’t have dragged his eldest daughter into almost every conversation. But Colby didn’t have a business executive in mind. He needed a helpmate, a woman who understood the never-ending demands of a doctor’s work. A woman who’d understand the long hours, the emotional stress, the intrusions into his private life.
What he didn’t need was a career-obsessed executive. Perhaps he was outdated in his thinking. He certainly acknowledged that a woman had every right to pursue her own profession, to choose her own calling in life, but Colby was looking for a woman who’d make that calling him. Well, not just him but them—their marriage, their family, their home.
He had to admit it sounded selfish and egocentric to expect his wife to wrap her life around his. Nevertheless that was exactly what he wanted.
His own career was all-consuming; there weren’t enough hours in the day to do everything that needed to be done. When he got home at night he wanted someone there to greet him, to offer comfort, serenity.
Sherry Waterman fit the bill perfectly. They’d been dating off and on for almost a year. Lately, it seemed, more off than on. Colby wasn’t sure why he’d allowed his relationship with Sherry to taper off. He hadn’t talked to her in nearly two weeks now—maybe longer. But he knew she’d be an ideal wife for him, and for that matter so would Norah Bloomfield. Yet he couldn’t picture spending the rest of his life with either of them.
If he was going to analyze his lack of interest in both Sherry and Norah, then he might as well examine what he found so attractive about Valerie. Not the briefcase she carried with her like a second purse. Certainly not the way she popped antacid tablets, or the way she dressed in a sexless gray suit that disguised every feminine curve of her slender frame.
What appealed to him most was the contrast he sensed in her. Outwardly she appeared calm and collected, asking intelligent questions with the composure of someone inquiring about commonplace statistics instead of her father’s chances of survival.
Colby hadn’t been fooled. He noted how she gnawed on her lower lip even while her gaze steadily met his. Valerie had been badly shaken by her father’s ordeal. There were depths of emotion in this woman, a real capacity for feeling that was—or so he guessed—usually kept hidden.
He also noticed the love in her eyes when he took her to see her father. He’d watched her struggle to keep her emotions at bay. Her fingers had trembled when they reached for her father’s hand and her face had grown gentle. There was a strong bond between those two.
It hadn’t been necessary to repeat David’s comment about their marrying, and Colby wasn’t sure why he had.
He suspected he’d been hoping to discover if she was involved with someone. Knowing that she was, or rather that she was about to be, should have reassured him. But it hadn’t. If anything, he was more curious than ever.
Norah’s arrival stirred Valerie into wakefulness early the following morning. She hadn’t slept much, too exhausted and keyed up to let herself relax. Toward dawn she’d drifted into an uneasy slumber.
“How’s Dad?” Norah asked, handing Valerie a white sack that contained breakfast.
“The same. I haven’t been in to see him, but I’ve talked to the CCU staff several times.” She’d paced the hospital corridor most of the night and as a result had received intermittent reports.
“He’s been like this from the first, as though he’s balancing on the edge of a cliff. He could fall either way.”
“He’ll live,” Valerie said fervently, as if her determination would be enough to keep him alive.
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am,” Valerie returned, forcing her voice to remain confident.
“Oh, before I forget,” Norah said, sitting opposite Valerie, “there were two messages on the answering machine when I got home last night. The first was from Mr. Cassidy at CHIPS. He’s your boss, isn’t he?”
Valerie nodded, opening the bag her sister had brought. She removed a warm croissant and a cup of fresh coffee. The last time she could remember eating had been at O’Hare, and although her pizza had looked decent, she’d been too upset to feel very hungry.
“What’d Rowdy have to say?”