Read Orchard Valley Grooms for Free Online Page A

Valerie,” she said breathlessly when he answered.
    “Listen, you’re in luck. There’s an up-and-coming heart surgeon working out of Portland University. Apparently he’s developed an innovative surgical technique. I’ve talked to three of the top heart specialists in the country and they all highly recommend him.”
    “Great.” She groped through her purse until she found a pen and a notebook, which she positioned against the lobby wall. “Ready.”
    “His name is Dr. Colby Winston.”
    Valerie dropped her arm. “Dr. Colby Winston,” she repeated.
    “I’ve got his phone number here.”
    “Thanks, Rowdy,” she said, pride and shame clogging her throat, “but I’ve already got it.”
    She hadn’t been home for twenty-four hours and she’d already managed to alienate her sister, insult a family friend and at the same time disparage a highly regarded doctor.
    “Just great, Valerie,” she muttered to herself. “Can things get any worse?”

Three
    “S teffie?” David Bloomfield’s eyes fluttered open and he gazed up at Valerie.
    “She’ll be here as soon as she can,” Valerie reassured him. It was now early evening, and during every previous visit that day, he’d been asleep, his heart’s activity reported on the monitor.
    How weak he sounded, she thought, as though death was only hours away. Her own heart clamored with dread and fear; she wanted to shout at him to fight, to hang on…
    It wasn’t that easy or straightforward—as Valerie knew. In the past two days she’d learned more about the functions of the heart than she’d ever imagined. In more ways than one… She’d learned that the symbolic heart, the center of human emotion, grew larger with the sorrows as well as the joys of love. And the physical heart was subject to its own stresses and risks.
    Colby had strived to make the explanation as uncomplicated as possible. Simply put, her father was experiencing heart failure; his heart was pumping blood less efficiently than it should. The decreased strength of the muscles then resulted in distended blood vessels that leaked fluid into his lungs, which interfered with his breathing. Each hour he was growing weaker and closer to death.
    “Can’t…hold out much longer.”
    “Of course you can,” Valerie insisted, railing against discouragement and defeat. “You’re going to live long enough to be a problem to your children. Isn’t that what you’ve always said? You’ve still got years and years. Good years, with a houseful of grandchildren.”
    Her father’s smile was fleeting. “Go home, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You haven’t even been to the house yet.”
    “There’s nothing there for me without you.” She rubbed her thumb soothingly across the back of his hand, avoiding the IV needle. “Get well, Daddy, please get well. We all need you.”
    His eyes drifted shut, and the oppressive need to give in to the weakness of tears nearly overcame her. She blinked furiously in an effort not to cry, succeeding despite the enormous lump in her throat.
    Valerie was grateful her features were outwardly composed when Colby entered the cubicle a few minutes later. He read over the clipboard that outlined her father’s progress, then made a brief notation.
    “He’ll sleep now,” he said, guiding her out of the room.
    “What’s happening?” she asked once they’d left the Coronary Care Unit. “Why is he so much weaker than before? It’s like watching his life ebb away. Surely you can do something?” She heard the note of hysteria in her own voice and didn’t care. Perhaps she was being selfish in wanting him to live when he so clearly wanted to be released from life. But she loved him so desperately. She needed him, and so did Steffie and Norah.
    “We’re doing everything we can,” Colby assured her.
    “I know—but it’s not enough.”
    “Valerie, trust me, I love that crotchety old man myself. I don’t want to lose him, either.” He led the way to the elevator.