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.
Norah drifted up the stairs to her room. She wished now that she’d let Rowdy kiss her. And yet it angered her that she should be feeling anything—especially when she knew how deeply Rowdy cared for Valerie.
Norah changed out of her uniform and walked slowly down the back stairs that led to the spacious kitchen. Halfway there, she could hear Steffie and Charles. They were speaking in low tones, and their words were followed by silences. Lovers exchanging promises, no doubt.
Not wanting to embarrass them, or herself, Norah made sure they heard her approach. She burst onto the scene with a smile to find her sister sitting in Charles’s lap. A wooden spoon coated in spaghetti sauce was poised in front of his mouth.
With obvious reluctance, Charles dragged his gaze away from Steffie. “Thanks for getting me into that press conference this afternoon, Norah. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” She opened the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of lemonade. Her back to the happy couple, she heard Steffie whisper something, then giggle softly.
“What time’s dinner?” Norah asked, refusing to look in their direction. She got a tall glass and added ice before pouring the lemonade.
“Another hour or so.”
She couldn’t face Steffie and Charles just now. Seeing how happy they were, how much in love, was almost painful. “Do you need any help with dinner?”
“No, thanks,” Charles answered for Steffie. “We’ve got everything under control here.”
Norah was sure they had.
It wasn’t until she was in her bedroom with the door closed that she realized how tense and rigidly controlled she’d been.
Steffie and Charles’s wedding was only a few weeks away, and she was excited and happy for them both. They hadn’t wanted the elaborate affair Valerie and Colby had had. Just as well, since Orchard Valley had yet to recover from the first Bloomfield wedding.
Norah was happy for her sisters. Really happy. They both deserved the love they’d found.
Love.
It had changed Valerie, turned her life upside down. Her oldest sister had never been one to reveal her emotions, but from the moment Valerie had accepted Colby’s engagement ring, she’d changed. She’d become exuberant, animated. Right before Norah’s eyes, love had transformed her sister into someone she hardly recognized. Valerie, who’d always been so serious, so business-minded, had become giddy with love.
It had the opposite effect on Steffie. Her middle sister had always been the emotional one, and she’d never had any qualms about expressing her opinions, no matter how outrageous they might be.
These days Steffie was calm and peaceful. When she was with Charles, she seemed to be a different woman, Norah thought. Her sister had always been in a hurry; there were people to meet, places to go, experiences to live. But no longer. She’d relaxed, slowed down.
Both her sisters were marrying men who balanced them. Men whose personalities complemented and completed theirs.
And then there was Norah.
Expelling her breath, Norah stretched out on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She dated often, but none of the men she was currently seeing affected her the way Colby and Charles had affected her sisters. Still, after watching what had happened to them, she wasn’t sure what to expect in her own life. Should she expect her personality to be moderated, too? And in what way? She’d never been as serious as Valerie or as vivacious as Steffie. She was just plain Norah.
The phone rang, but the first ring was abruptly cut off. A moment later, Steffie came pounding up the stairs, yelling, “Norah! Phone!”
Norah rolled over and picked up the phone on her bedside table. “Hello,” she mumbled.
“Do you feel up to a game of checkers?”
“Rowdy?” Her heart quickened at the sound of his voice.
He chuckled. “You mean you’ve been playing games with other men? I’m shocked.”
“I…” She didn’t know what to say. Instinct told her to say yes, to agree to another game immediately. Bu
t common sense intervened. “No,” she told him firmly.
“I promise no more tricks,” he said as a means of inducement.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think so.”
There was a long silence before he spoke again. “I had another reason for calling. I wanted to thank you for everything you did this afternoon.”
“It wasn’t that much.”
“But it helped, and I’m grateful. I’ve caused quite a ruckus in the orderly world of this hospital, haven’t I?”
“Indeed you have,” she said with a soft laugh. She had a sneaking suspicion it was the same wherever he went—Orchard Valley, Houston or New York City.
Rowdy chuckled, too, and then asked her a couple of questions, about the hospital and the town; she answered and asked him a few of her own. The conversation continued in a casual vein.
After what seemed like only minutes, Norah heard Steffie calling her down for dinner. Norah glanced at her watch, surprised to discover that she’d been talking to Rowdy for nearly half an hour.
“I have to go.”
“Well, thanks again…Norah.” He said her name with an odd, breathless catch. “I always seem to be thanking you.”
Running down the stairs toward the kitchen, Norah realized she felt completely revived.
It seemed as though everyone—her father, Charles and Steffie—turned to stare at her when she walked into the room. “Is something wrong?” she asked, glancing down to be sure her blouse wasn’t incorrectly buttoned.
“Not a thing,” her father said, reaching for the green salad. “Nope, not a thing.” But Norah saw him raise his eyes to Steffie and grin from ear to ear.
Rowdy’s room had been transformed into a command post. Men and women were walking briskly in and out as Norah arrived early the next morning.
She brought Rowdy his breakfast tray and found Robbins on the phone, switching from one line to another. An elegant middle-aged woman with her dark hair in a chignon sat behind the desk, working at the computer. No one seemed to notice Norah—least of all Rowdy, who was issuing orders like a general from his headquarters.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Norah said, not bothering to restrain the sarcasm as she set down his tray.
“Norah.” Rowdy’s eyes lit up and he laid aside the file he was scanning. Horn-rimmed reading glasses were perched at the end of his nose; they only made him look more attractive.
“I brought your breakfast.”
“I don’t suppose you have any more of those blueberry muffins, do you?”
“I might.”
“But it’s going to cost me, right?”
“Not exactly.” She’d read over the notes the night staff had left regarding Rowdy and learned he’d been on the phone until all hours of the night. He’d called her, of course, but that had been much earlier in the evening.
She took the thermometer from its slot and stuck it under his tongue.
“I haven’t got a fever! Why do you insist on taking my temperature so many times?” he fussed when she was through.
She made the notation and then took his wrist. “You were on the phone for nearly eight hours straight.”
“Jealous?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“I might be.” She was far more concerned about his apparent lack of concern for his health.
“There were people I needed to talk to, people I had to reassure. By the way, did you see we got coverage on CNN? My plane crash put Orchard Valley on the map.”
“I’m sure the mayor is thrilled.”
“He offered me the keys to the city.”
“Uncle Jack? He didn’t!” Norah couldn’t believe it.
Rowdy laughed boisterously. “No, he didn’t, but he should have.”
Norah finished taking his pulse and recorded the information.
“Now do I get those blueberry muffins or are you going to make me beg?”
Norah removed two wrapped muffins from her sweater pockets. “Count your blessings, Cassidy. This is the last of the batch. My dad sent them to you with his best wishes.”
“Bless him.” Rowdy ignored the breakfast tray and unwrapped the muffins instead. “Meet Ms. Amelia Emerich, my executive assistant. You remember Robbins, don’t you?”
Norah smiled at both of Rowdy’s employees.
“I know your sister Valerie,” Ms. Emerich said. “A wonderful young woman. We all miss her terribly. Say hello for me, won’t you?”
Norah nodded, carefully watching Rowdy. She wondered how he’d react to the mention of her sister’s name. He didn’t, at least not outwardly.
“Mr. Cassidy will need an hour later this morning,” Norah told Robbins and Ms. Emerich. “Dr. Silverman’s scheduled to—”
“What time?” Rowdy broke in.
“The schedule says ten.”
“He’ll have to change it. I’ve got an interview with Time magazine at ten.”
“Rowdy, you can’t ask Dr. Silverman to rearrange his day because you’re meeting with a magazine reporter!”
“Why not? He’ll understand. I’m sure he won’t mind waiting. He might even want to talk to the guy from Time himself. I’ll try to arrange it if I can.”
“Kincade’s calling you at eleven,” Ms. Emerich told Rowdy.
“That’s right. Listen,” he said, directing his attention back to Norah. “Maybe it’d be best if you had Dr. Silverman check with Ms. Emerich before he does whatever it is he needs to do.”
Norah was too stunned for a moment to react. “Dr. Silverman will be here at ten,” she said firmly. “If the reporter from Time magazine is here, then he’ll need to wait outside the room like everyone else. May I remind you once again that this is a hospital, Mr. Cassidy? You’ve managed to sweet-talk other people around here, but it won’t work with me. Is that understood?”
A shocked silence fell after her words. Ms. Emerich and Robbins both stood with their mouths open, as though they’d never heard anyone speak to their boss like this.
Rowdy’s eyes went from dark to darker. “All right,” he finally said, his voice sullen.
Norah whirled around and marched out of the room.
The results of Dr. Silverman’s examination revealed signs of improvement. If his leg continued to mend, Rowdy could be discharged within two weeks. No one was more relieved than Norah.
The sooner Rowdy left, the better for her. Once he was gone, Norah felt confident her life would return to normal. Once Rowdy had left Orchard Valley, her heart could forget him.
They’d only kissed once, but it was enough—more than enough. She knew this was a dangerous man. Dangerous to her emotional well-being. More important, he was in love with her sister.
Three days later, on a Monday afternoon, Norah stopped in to find Rowdy resting. The room was silent, which was rare. Norah guessed that Ms. Emerich and Robbins were out to lunch.
“I’ve got your medication,” she said, spilling two capsules into the palm of his hand and giving him a small paper cup filled with water.
Rowdy swallowed the pills.
He looked exhausted. Norah was furious that he insisted on working so hard, especially now when he needed to rest. He ran everyone around him ragged, yet he demanded twice as much of himself. She shook off her thoughts as she realized he was speaking to her.
“Did anyone ever tell you how much you look like an angel?” he asked.
“Just you.”
“You’re very beautiful, Norah Bloomfield.”
“And you’re very tired.”
“I must be,” he said on the tail end of a yawn. “I wasn’t going to say anything until later.”
“Say what?” she prompted.
“About your angel face. You don’t look a thing like Valerie.”
Her sister’s name went through her like an icy chill. The sister she loved and admired. The sister she’d always looked up to and idolized. Now, Norah could barely tolerate the sound of her own sister’s name.
“Rest,” she advised softly.
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
“I’m not sure.” The ward was full, and she didn’t have time to stay at his bedside, although it was exactly what she wanted to do. “I’ll be back later, when I’m finished my shift.”
“Promise?” His eyelids were drifting shut even as he spoke.
“I promise.” Impulsively she brushed the hair from his temple, letting her hand linger on his face. He was growing more important to her every moment, which terrified her. She dreaded the day he’d be released and in the same heartbeat willed it to hurry.
When Robbins and Ms. Emerich returned half an hour later, Norah suggested they take the remainder of the afternoon off. Rowdy would be furious, but she’d deal with him later. He was pushing himself too hard; he needed the rest.
Norah’s shift had ended at five, and she was sitting at his bedside when he awoke. He must have sensed she was there because he moved his head toward her and slowly smiled. “What time is it?”
“Five-thirty.”
His eyes widened. “That late? But what about—”
“I gave them the afternoon off.”
“Norah,” he groaned. “I wish you hadn’t. I was expecting several calls.” He struggled to a half-sitting position and his gaze shot to the phone. She stood and picked up the plug, dangling it from her fingers.
“You unplugged the phone?”
“As I explained earlier, you needed the rest.”
Rowdy’s mouth snapped shut and anger leaped into his eyes.
“And as I’ve explained before, this is a hospital, Mr. Cassidy, not Grand Central Station. If the call was that important they’ll try again tomorrow.”
Rowdy pinched his lips closed. Norah suspected it was to prevent himself from unleashing some blistering invective.
“I do have one small piece of information for you, however,” she said matter-of-factly.
Rowdy’s eyes met hers, his expression inquiring.
“Valerie and Colby got home this afternoon.”
Rowdy reached for the bar and sat upright, his face eager. His eyes sharpened the way they did whenever he felt strongly about something—or in this case, someone. “I need to see her right away,” he said. “See what you can do to arrange it, would you?”