Orchard Valley Grooms (19 page)

“There’s method in your madness, Valerie Bloomfield.”

“Naturally. Colby doesn’t know that I can’t tell one side of a cookie sheet from the other. I don’t want to disillusion him quite so soon. He suggested I make dinner tonight and, well, you get the picture.”

“I do indeed. I’ll be happy to share the spaghetti sauce with you.”

“I’ll hang around the kitchen to be sure some of the aroma sticks to me.”

“I’ll give you the recipe if you want.”

“I want, but if I have trouble cooking with a microwave, heaven only knows what I’ll do once I’m around a stove. One with burners and a real oven.”

Steffie chuckled. She certainly had no objection to helping her sister prepare dinner for Colby, but she wasn’t sure taking a plate over to Charles’s house was such a good plan.

Valerie and Norah convinced her otherwise.

“Charles never did get to sample your cooking,” Norah reminded her. “He stopped by and you offered him dinner, but he’d already eaten. Remember?”

“How’d you know that?”

Norah looked mildly surprised, as though everyone must be aware of what went on between Steffie and Charles. “Dad told me.”

Her dear, matchmaking father. Steffie should have known.

“It isn’t going to hurt anything,” Valerie reminded her. “If you want, you can ride into town with me. I’ll go over to Charles’s house with you and we can drop off the meal, then I’ll drive you home.”

Steffie still wasn’t sure, but Norah and Valerie believed it was a romantic thing to do. They both seemed to think Charles was serious about their relationship.

As for Steffie, she didn’t know what to think anymore. In fact, she preferred not to think about their relationship at all. And yet…

She remained hesitant about this project of delivering him a surprise dinner but Valerie and Norah were so certain it would be a success that she went ahead with it.

They were apparently right.

She’d found his door open—that hadn’t changed, she thought with a twinge of embarrassment—and had left a container of the sauce, some noodles with instructions and a couple of last-minute extras on his kitchen table.

Steffie was propped up in her bed reading a new
mystery novel at ten-thirty that night. Her bedroom window was open and a breeze whispered through the orchard. The house was quiet; her father had gone to bed an hour earlier, and her sisters were both out for the evening.

When the phone chimed, she answered on the first ring, not wanting it to wake her father.

“How’d you do it?” Charles asked, sounding thoroughly delighted. “I came home exhausted and hungry, thinking I was going to have to throw something in the microwave for dinner. The minute I walked into the house, I smelled this heavenly scent of basil and garlic. I followed my nose to the table and found your note.”

“You should thank Valerie and Norah. The whole thing was their idea.” Had he been furious, Steffie would gladly have shifted the blame, so she figured it was only right to share the credit.

“I haven’t tasted spaghetti that good since my grandmother died. I’d forgotten how delicious homemade sauce can be.”

Steffie was warmed by the compliment. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Enjoyed it! You have no idea. It was like stepping back into my childhood to spend the evening with my grandmother. She was a fabulous cook, and so are you.”

Steffie leaned against the heap of pillows and closed her eyes, savoring these precious moments.

“The bottle of red wine and the small loaf of French bread were a nice touch,” he told her.

“I’m glad,” she said again. A dozen unnamed emotions whirled inside her.

“I wish you didn’t live so far out of town,” Charles said next. “Otherwise I’d come over right now—to thank you.”

“I wish I didn’t live so far out, too.”

“Since we’re both making wishes, there are a few other things I’d like, as well,” he added in tones as smooth as velvet.

“You’re limited to three.” How raspy her own voice sounded.

Charles chuckled. “Only three? What happens if I want four?”

“I’m not sure, but I seem to remember reading about a handsome young newsman who was turned into a frog because he got greedy about wishes.”

“How many have I got left?”

“Two.”

“All right, I’ll choose carefully. I wish we were together in your father’s stable right now.”

“You’re wasting one of your wishes on the stable?”

“That’s what I said. It seems as though every time I’m there, you end up in my arms. In fact, I’m looking forward to visiting your father’s horses again soon.”

“That can be arranged. Fury and Princess will be thrilled.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he murmured. Steffie could picture him sprawled comfortably on his sofa, talking to her, a glass of wine in his hand.

“Be warned, you have only one wish left.”

“Give me a moment—I want to make this good. I’ve had two glasses of wine and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m feeling kind of mellow.”

“I noticed.” She smiled to herself.

“Know what I’d like?”

“You tell me,” she teased.

“With my last wish, I’d like to wipe out the past.”

“That one’s easy,” she said, and even though he couldn’t see her, she made a sweeping motion with her hand. “There. It’s gone, forgotten, never to be discussed again.”

“Uh-oh. I think I made a mistake.”

“Why’s that?”

“We can’t sweep it away.”

“Why not?” she asked, striving for a flippant air. “It was one of your wishes, and it’s in my power to grant it, so I have.”

“But I don’t want it wiped out
completely.
Let’s talk about it now, Stephanie, get this over with once and for all.”

Steffie’s heart jolted. “Sorry, it’s gone, vanished. I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” Willfully she lowered her voice, half pleading with him, not wanting anything to ruin these moments.

The silence stretched between them. “You’re right, this isn’t something we can discuss over the phone. Certainly not when I’m half drunk and you’re so far away.”

“You’re tired.”

“It’s funny,” Charles told her, and she could hear the satisfaction in his voice. “I’m so exhausted I’m dead on
my feet, and at the same time I feel so elated I want to take you in my arms and whirl you around the room.”

“You never once mentioned buying the paper.” She didn’t mean it as a criticism. But he’d managed to keep it a secret not only from her, but from just about everyone in town. When Steffie had mentioned Charles’s news to her father, he’d been as pleasantly surprised as she.

“I couldn’t, but believe me, I was dying to tell you. Negotiations can be tricky. I was prohibited from saying anything until I’d reached an agreement with Dalton Publishing and the financing had been arranged.”

Steffie snuggled down against her pillows. “So much is happening in our lives. First there was Dad’s heart attack, and now Valerie’s wedding. Oh, Charles, I wish you were here to see Valerie. I didn’t know anything in the world could fluster my sister, but I was wrong. Being in love flusters her.

“I was with her Monday when she tried on wedding dresses. My practical, levelheaded older sister would stand in front of a mirror with huge tears running down her cheeks.”

“She was crying?”

Steffie smiled at the memory. “Yes, but these were tears of joy. She never allowed herself to believe that Colby loved her enough to work through the things that stood between them. The two of them are so different, and that’s been the problem all along. But neither of them seems to understand, even now, that it was those very differences that attracted them to each other.”

“
We’re
different.”

His words gave Steffie pause. “I know but—”

“And I’m attracted to you, Stephanie. Very attracted.”

It was ironic that she’d told him how love had completely unsettled her sister, only to be sitting on her own bed a few minutes later with the phone pressed against her ear and the tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“Yes,” she whispered in a trembling voice.

“Stephanie? What’s wrong? You sound like you’re crying.”

“That’s the silliest thing I ever heard,” she rallied, rubbing her eyes with one hand.

“I wish I was there.”

“Sorry,” she said, laughing and crying at once, “you’re flat out of wishes.”

“M
ore wine?” Charles asked, reaching for the bottle of Chablis in its silver bucket.

“No, thanks,” Steffie said, smiling her appreciation. Their dinner had been delectable. It was one meal she wouldn’t soon forget, although it was Charles’s company that would linger in her mind more than the excellent halibut topped with bay shrimp.

“How about dessert?”

Steffie pressed her hands to her stomach and slowly shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

“Me neither.” He leaned against the back of his chair and gazed out the window to the Columbia River below. The gorge was in one of the most scenic parts of Oregon. Steffie had always loved this view of the mighty river coursing through a rock-bound corridor.

“I’ve looked forward to this evening for a long time,” Charles said, turning back to her.

“I have, too.” Until tonight, Steffie had only dreamed of being with Charles like this. As his equal, an adult…a woman in love.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look more beautiful, Stephanie.”

His words brought a flush of color to her cheeks. Steffie had dressed carefully, choosing an elegant Italian knit dress in a subdued shade of turquoise. Valerie had lent Steffie her pearl necklace and earrings, and Norah had contributed a splash of her most expensive perfume.

Her sisters and her father, too, had put a good deal of stock in this evening’s date. Steffie wasn’t sure what her family was expecting. No doubt some miracle. For herself, she was content just to spend the evening with Charles.

“You look wonderful yourself.” She wasn’t echoing his compliment, but was stating a fact. He’d worn a dark suit with a silk tie of swirling colors against a pale blue shirt.

“Then we must make an attractive couple tonight,” Charles commented, rotating the wine goblet between his fingers.

“We must,” Steffie agreed.

Charles finished off the last of his wine and set the glass aside. “You were generous enough to grant me three wishes the other night, remember?”

Steffie wasn’t likely to forget. She felt warm and shivery inside whenever she thought about their late-night telephone conversation.

“Being the honorable gentleman I am, not to mention talented and handsome, as you so aptly pointed out, it seems only fair that I return the favor. You, my lady, are hereby granted three wishes.”

“Anything I want?” Steffie cocked her head.

“Within reason. I’d be willing to drive you to Multnomah Falls to watch the water by moonlight, but I might have a bit of trouble if you decide you want world peace.”

“The Falls by moonlight?”

“I was hoping you’d ask for that one.”

She blinked at the way he’d turned her question into a pre-approved wish. “Charles,” she said, “you’re a romantic.”

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

“But I am. I’d never have guessed it.”

She was teasing him, and enjoying it and was surprised when he frowned briefly. “That’s because we’ve never discussed what happened—”

“Not tonight,” she said, holding a finger to his lips. “It’s one of my wishes. We’ll discuss nothing unpleasant.”

His frown deepened. “I think we should. There’s a lot we—”

“You’re the one who granted me three wishes,” she reminded him solemnly.

He nodded, his expression somewhat disgruntled. “You’re right, I did, and if you want to squander one of your wishes, then far be it from me to stop you.”

“It’s too lovely a night to dredge up the past, especially when it’s so embarrassing. Let’s just look forward—”

“Fine,” Charles agreed quickly and turned to thank their waiter when he brought two cups of steaming coffee to the table. “We’ll just look ahead. Now, remember you have one remaining wish.”

Steffie hesitated. “Do I have to claim it now?”

“No, but the wishes expire at midnight.”

Steffie laughed softly. “You make me feel like Cinderella.”

“Perhaps that’s because I’d like to be your prince.”

His gaze was dark and unguarded. Steffie lowered her eyes, for fear he’d read all the love that was stored in her heart.

“Do I frighten you?” he asked after a moment.

Steffie’s eyes flew back to his. “No. I thought I frightened you!”

He laughed outright at that. “Not likely.”

They drank their coffee in silence, as though afraid words would destroy the mood. After Charles had paid the bill, he drove toward Multnomah Falls, managing the twisting narrow highway with ease. Steffie had visited the Falls many times, but had always been a bit scared of the drive. However, Charles took the sharp turns in slow, controlled moves, and she relaxed, enjoying the trip.

The rock walls along the road were built of local basalt more than seventy years earlier, during the Depression.

“I love this place,” Charles said as they reached the parking area across the roadway from the waterfall. Because it was a weeknight, there were only a few cars in the lot.

Dusk was settling, and the tall, stately firs bordering the falls were silhouetted against the backdrop of a cloud-dappled sky. The forested slopes were already dark as Steffie and Charles began the gradual, winding ascent to the visitors’ viewpoint.

A chill raced down her arms and Steffie was grateful she’d brought a thin coat with her. Multnomah Falls was Oregon’s highest waterfall, plummeting more than six hundred feet into a swirling pool, then slipping downward in a second, shorter descent. The force of the falling water misted the night.

With his hand at her elbow, Charles guided them to the walkway that wove up the trail. When they got to the footbridge that spanned the falls, Steffie stopped to gaze at the magnificence around her. The sound of falling water roared in her ears.

“If we wait a few minutes, the moon will hit the water,” Charles told her. He stood behind her, shielding her from the wind that whipped across the water’s churning surface.

Steffie closed her eyes. Not to the beauty of the scene before her, but to the sensation she experienced in Charles’s protective embrace.

“I’ve dreamed of holding you like this,” he whispered. “Of wrapping my arms around you and feeling you next to me. I love the way your hair smells. It reminds me of wildflowers and sunshine.”

Steffie couldn’t speak. She couldn’t get even one word past the knot in her throat. She swallowed and
slowed her breathing, hoping that might help, because there was so much she longed to say, so many things she yearned to tell him.

“I don’t ever want to be separated from you again,” Charles told her, his voice raw.

She didn’t understand. Charles had all but sent her away. He’d all but cast her out of his life. She turned in his arms until they faced each other and raised her hands to his face.

Charles smiled then and gently gripped her wrists. He moved his head until his mouth met the sensitive skin of her palm, and he kissed her there.

“You know, three years ago there was so much I couldn’t tell you,” he began.

“I have one wish left,” she reminded him. “I want you to kiss me. Now.”

“With pleasure.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

They’d kissed before, but they’d never shared what they did in those moments. Charles’s lips found hers in the sweetest, most loving exchange she’d ever experienced, and Steffie’s emotions exploded to life.

Steffie wanted this, wanted it more than anything she’d ever known, yet at the same time she felt overwhelmed by confusion. Charles had ordered her out of his life, laughed at her declaration of love, humiliated her until she couldn’t bear to live in the same town. Now, he seemed to be suggesting that he
hadn’t
wanted her to go, and that he never wanted her to leave again.

Steffie wasn’t sure what to believe. With all her heart
she longed to lose herself in Charles’s kiss, to savor all the sensations that flooded her. And yet the uncertainty remained. Did he merely desire her, or did he, too, feel a forever kind of love?

But his kiss wiped out all thought as the joy rushed through her, replacing fear and doubt.

“Someone’s coming,” Charles whispered suddenly. He broke away, still holding her shoulders, and brushed his mouth against her forehead. Then he released her.

Steffie’s father was sitting by the fireplace in his den when she let herself into the house later that night. She saw the lamplight spilling into the entryway and decided to check on him.

“Dad?” David was sitting in the wingback leather chair beside the fireplace, her mother’s afghan tucked around his legs. His head drooped and his lips were slightly parted.

Steffie had spoken before she realized he was asleep. But just as she turned to tiptoe from the room, he stirred.

“Steffie?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she told him quietly.

“Good thing you did. I was waiting up for you.” He ran one hand through his hair and sat up straighter. “How was your dinner with Charles?”

Steffie sank onto the ottoman, angling her legs to one side. She knew her eyes had a dreamy look, but she didn’t care. “Wonderful.”

“Did Charles ask you anything?”

“Ask me anything?” she repeated, feigning ignorance. “What could he possibly have to ask me?”

David Bloomfield frowned. “Plenty. I thought—I hoped he was going to mention…an upcoming event.”

“Oh, that!” she said with a light disinterested laugh. If the evening hadn’t been so wonderful, she would’ve felt irritated with his pressure tactics. But she found it impossible to complain when she was this happy.

“He did, you mean? And what did you tell him? Don’t keep me in suspense, Princess.”

Steffie splayed her fingers and studied the smoothly polished nails before sighing. “I told him we’ll see about it on Sunday.”

“Sunday? You’re going to keep that boy in agony until Sunday?”

She nodded, affecting a complete lack of concern. “He wanted to know if we could go horseback riding, and I said we could probably do it on Sunday. That’s the question you’re referring to, isn’t it?”

“No,” came his disappointed reply. “And well you know it. I expected that boy to ask you to marry him.”

“Well, he didn’t and even if he had—”

“Even if he had, what?” The frown slid back into place. “I tell you, Stephanie, you’re as stubborn as your mother when it comes to this sort of thing. You can’t fool me—you’ve been in love with Charles for years. If he asks you to marry him—”

“But he hasn’t and from what I could see, he doesn’t have any intention of doing so.”

“I don’t agree.”

“You’re free to think what you want, Dad, but keep in mind that this is
my
life and I won’t take kindly to your interfering in it. And remember that Charles values his privacy, too.”

“He didn’t ask you to marry him,” her father muttered under his breath. “You don’t think he intends to, either?” he demanded, louder now.

“Not to my knowledge.”

A look of righteous indignation came over him. “Then I’d better have a talk with that boy. I won’t allow him to trifle with your affections.”

“Dad!” Steffie had trouble not laughing over the old-fashioned terms he used. She was sure Charles would find it humorous, too, if she suggested he was “trifling” with her heart.

“I mean it, Steffie. I refuse to let that young man hurt you again.”

“He only has that power if I give it to him—which I won’t. You’re looking at a woman of the twenty-first century, Dad, and we’re too smart to let a man
trifle
with us.”

“Nevertheless, I’m having a talk with him.”

Her expression might have been outwardly serene, but Steffie’s insides were dancing a wild jig. “You’ll do no such thing,” she insisted.

“Apparently Charles Tomaselli doesn’t know what’s good for him.”

“Dad! We talked about this before, remember?”
Her good mood was quickly evaporating. “Now I want you to promise you’re not going to interfere with Charles and me.”

Her father refused to answer.

“I’ll be mortified if you even bring up the subject of marriage to him.”

“But—”

“I’m trusting you, Dad. Now good night.” She stood and kissed his forehead before hurrying up the stairs to her own bedroom.

“I appreciate the ride to the airport,” Valerie said as they drove out of town early Saturday afternoon. Her sister’s flight was scheduled to leave at six, which gave them plenty of time for a leisurely trip into Portland. Valerie was going to meet with Rowdy Cassidy to tell him about her engagement and request a job transfer.

“I’m glad to do it,” Steffie assured her older sister. Now that Valerie had set the preparations for her wedding in motion, she was free to return to Texas. There were several tasks, besides the discussion with Cassidy, that she needed to take care of. She had to pack her personal things, deal with her furniture and put her condo on the market.

“Colby wanted to come with me, but his schedule’s full,” she explained wistfully. “That’s something we’ll both have to adjust to.”

“Heavy schedules?”

Valerie nodded. “I’ll talk to Rowdy about that while I’m in Houston.”

“Do you think he’ll agree to let you head up the West Coast branch of CHIPS?”

“It’s hard to say…. I don’t think he’s going to be pleased about my wanting to leave Houston, but he hasn’t got a choice.” Steffie noticed a hesitancy in her sister that she hadn’t seen earlier. “Rowdy can be hard to predict,” Valerie added. “He might be absolutely delighted for me and Colby. But there’s also a chance that he’ll be angry I took an extended leave of absence to plan my wedding.” She sighed. “I didn’t tell him the whole truth about why I didn’t return the day I said I would.”

“Why not?” Steffie prodded, briefly taking her eyes from the road when Valerie didn’t immediately offer the information.

“I know I should have, but it just didn’t seem right to do it over the phone. Besides, I’m afraid Rowdy might be…have been interested in me himself. At one point, I even thought I was interested in him! Good heavens, I didn’t know a thing about love until I met Colby. I don’t mean to hurt Rowdy’s feelings but I can’t give him any hope.”

“Do you want me to fly back with you?”

“Oh, no. Rowdy’s really a gentleman beneath that cowboy exterior.”