by Rita Herron
So, she was a doctor, albeit one with a rattletrap of a car. That didn’t mean she had to snub him.
He clenched his jaw, then realized he wasn’t thinking straight. She couldn’t be snubbing him because she had no idea he was Ty Cooper, Montana cowboy; she thought he was doctor/millionaire Dex Montgomery and she was mad because he hadn’t fallen into her trap and offered her money.
Remembering his mission for being here, his anger died. He couldn’t get involved personally with her or anyone else because he’d be going back to Rolling Bend soon. Besides, when she found out who he was, she probably would snub him. Just as Paula had years ago. She was too educated to pay attention to the real Ty Cooper.
No, he wouldn’t set himself up for that humiliation again.
She shifted into drive again, the little bug spinning gravel as she bounced up the paved drive beneath an awning of trees that lined the entrance to Dex’s house. It was too dark to see if the grass was green, but since it was May he supposed it would be. Thank God they had grass, and Dex didn’t live in one of those downtown postage-sized, cookie-cutter condos surrounded entirely by brick and mortar. He thought of the rolling hills, the mossy green valleys and the dirt drive to the Cooper farmhouse and felt a pang of homesickness.
Seconds later, he forgot it as he stared in awe at the mansion in front of him. The houses they’d passed were big enough to be hotels, but this one reminded him of the governor’s mansion.
How many people actually lived here?
Dex had mentioned his grandparents, a cook, a gardener, some kind of personal valet named George.
All people he didn’t know.
Whereas back home he had his grandparents, his adopted brothers Chad and Court, their wives Jenny and Brenda, and their kids.
Dr. Stovall pulled into the circular stone drive in front of massive white columns and Ty gulped. Would the people in this mansion be waiting for him with welcoming arms or would they recognize him as a fraud the minute they saw him?
Chapter Three
Jessica watched Dex Montgomery unfold his long legs from the front of her car, grab his Gucci briefcase and his Louis Vuitton garment bag, and frowned. How many hospital gowns could she buy for needy kids with the money he spent on one piece of designer luggage alone?
Irritated with herself for obsessing, she glanced up and saw him staring at his house, the oddest expression on his face. He shifted on one foot, frowning as if his feet hurt, then turned to her.
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was dreading going into his own h
He leaned into the still-open car door. “Thank you for the ride, Dr. Stovall.”
So, he’d been trying to formulate a thank you. Obviously a difficult task for him. Didn’t he even thank his servants?
A small smile tugged at his lips. “I’m sorry if I offended you when I called you sugar. It was just something I picked up on my trip.”
In Chicago. Where? From one of his love bunnies?
She’d heard women fell all over him everywhere he went, but she didn’t intend to be one of them.
“Forget it.” She fluttered her fingers to wave good-bye. “I’ll see you at the hospital.”
His dark brows shot up as if he was surprised at her comment, but he quickly slid a mask over his expression. “I’m looking forward to it.”
She nodded, then slid the car into gear and left him standing in his drive. Unable to resist, she checked her rearview mirror. To her surprise, his lips curved into a smile.
The damn man was flirting with her!
Dex Montgomery had never noticed her before; why would today be any different?
Had he undergone a personality transplant in Chicago?
TY WAS SURE he had blisters on his feet. Still, his aching toes couldn’t compare to the hollow feeling he had inside as he opened the door to the Montgomery house.
Was Dex back at the ranch now, being embraced by his loving family? Would Ty get the same warm reception here?
A moment of conscience attacked him for lying to the Coopers, but he shoved it aside. They had lied to him for thirty-two years.
It was time he knew the truth.
Time he met the other half of his family and learned about his father.
He opened the heavy mahogany door and slipped inside. The sound of his leather shoes hitting polished marble sounded foreign to his ears. The ornate entryway shimmered with soft light from the two-story chandelier, crystal teardrops glittering like diamonds above him. He swallowed, listening for the sounds of family, laughter, kids, his dog. Of dinnertime. But only silence greeted him.
A cold empty silence that made him pause and analyze his surroundings. Elaborate oil paintings of the Civil War mingled with rich colors on the wall, leading to a double curved staircase covered in white carpet. Geez. He could picture his muddy work-boot prints on the steps, and Angelica and the twins romping around with sticky, jelly-crusted hands and muddy shoes. This place was nothing like home.
“Mr. Dex?”
Ty started and saw a stately-looking man dressed in a black uniform approaching. This had to be George, his personal valet, and according to Dex, his friend. His thick gray hair and stiff posture didn’t look very friendly, though.
“We were expecting you earlier, sir. Long flight?”
Ty nodded. “Y. Where is everyone?”
George automatically took the garment bag from him and gestured toward the right. “Your grandfather’s in his study, as usual. And have your forgotten your grandmother always plays Bunco on Sunday nights?”
“Oh, right.” What the heck was Bunco? They had a bunkhouse at home, but no game named after it.
“Mr. Dex, are you all right?”
“Yes.” Ty scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly weary. The less he said the better. “The trip, you know. I lost track of time.”
George nodded curtly. “Very well. I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten but the cook prepared your favorite dinner. I’ll bring a drink and your meal to your suite if you wish.”
Ty stared at him in shock. The only time he’d ever been served on a tray was when he’d been sick as a kid. Gran Cooper had made him homemade vegetable soup with cornbread, and let him stay in bed and watch cartoons. She’d played Scrabble with him. He doubted they had homemade soup and cornbread here. Or that they played Scrabble. Or that anyone would appreciate the wood carvings he made. But his grandmother loved them. And Angelica had carried the eagle he’d carved to show-and-tell. “No, I’ll eat at the table with the family.”
George frowned again. “Sir, your grandfather already dined, and your grandmother will have hors d’oeuvres with the ladies.”
So, no family dinner. “All right. You and I can eat together.”
George coughed, looking uncomfortable. “Mr. Dex, thank you, but that’s most inappropriate. You know I always take my dinner with the staff.”
Ty’s stomach twisted. He was blowing this big time. George clicked his heels. “I’ll have your dinner waiting in the dining room in five minutes.”
He suddenly disappeared, his movements efficient. Ty shook his head in disgust; how was he supposed to know how to act with servants? At home, everyone joined in to help. They cooked together, ate together and cleared the table together. The men sometimes even washed dishes. It was the Cooper clan way.
But he wasn’t a Cooper here; he was a Montgomery and he had to act like one.
George would probably faint dead away if he walked into the kitchen to help wash dishes. No, he couldn’t give Dex’s personal valet a heart attack.
Was Dex having to learn to dress himself back in Montana?
Ty chuckled at the thought of his brother being that helpless and wondered how he would handle scrubbing pots at home. Would he have to clean the big cast-iron pan Gran Cooper used to fry chicken?
God, he wanted to get to know his brother better.
His stomach growled at the thought of Gran’s chicken and homemade buttermilk biscuits, reminding him he was s
tarved. Unsure where the dining room was located, he wandered to the right, trying to remember the tidbits Dex had mentioned. Dex’s formal study occupied the first room, while his grandfather had his own private office upstairs off his suite. Apparently the house was so large they had separate staircases leading to their own wing
Curious about his brother’s office and hoping it would tell him more about his twin, he slowly walked inside, amazed at the fine leather and the rich woods of the furniture. Decorated in hunter green and maroon, it was a masculine room that Ty might have felt comfortable in, except for the state-of-the-art computer system occupying the entire back corner. Two paintings of English hunt scenes hung on one wall flanking a brick fireplace which had obviously never been used.
Desperate for any information on his brother and his grandparents, Ty searched the desk and wall-to-wall bookshelf for family photos, but found none.
Odd. At home, his walls held dozens of snapshots of himself and his family members, of him and his neighbor Leanne. He wondered briefly what Dex would think when he met the girl next door, the girl the Coopers hoped he’d marry. He’d have to phone Dex and tell him to be nice to Leanne. She was just a sweet, innocent kid. He didn’t want her to get hurt. She had enough problems keeping her own ranch going, especially with her ill mother.
Although both their families had been trying to push them together, he and Leanne had been friends forever, and he couldn’t see her as anything other than a little sister. He was certain she felt the same way. Besides, he sensed that Leanne wanted to leave the ranch life for bigger dreams, and his life was home on the Circle C. Any woman he got involved with would have to love it, too. She would have to fit into his world of horses and cows and land. The ranch had been in the family for five generations; he wanted to make certain the legacy continued.
Dr. Stovall’s vibrant grass-green eyes flashed into his mind, but he banished the image. Nope, that woman definitely belonged here in the city with fine museums and fancy hospitals and other doctors. Just as Paula had.
He definitely did not.
JESSICA COULD NOT stand to go home. The little house she’d rented near the hospital seemed too quiet and lonely since her divorce. The reminder of all she’d lost was painfully vivid every time she looked at the vacant room she’d painted as a nursery. Although she’d covered the bright yellow with a taupe color, when she looked at the walls, she still saw the room the way she’d imagined it during the first weeks of her pregnancy.
At the hospital she stared through the glass at the babies in the maternity unit, her heart aching. If she’d carried her baby to term, it would be a year old now. She would be planning a birthday party. She and Jack might still be together, a happy little family.
It was something she had never had, but something she’d always wanted.
Her hopes had been dashed when she’d lost their child, yet she’d tried desperately to recover. Then the doctor had delivered the final blow. She had severe endometriosis and although she wasn’t yet thirty, she’d had to have a hysterectomy. Traumatic as that had been, she’d tried to move on with her life, telling herself there were lots of needy kids in the world they could adopt.
At first Jack had agreed. He’d even been understanding and promised her it hadn’t mattered.
But it had.
And eventually Jack had admitted it.
He wanted his own child, a son who would have the Thompson genes and carry on his name. Oh, he hadn’t been ugly or mean; he’d simply been honest. Just the way he’d been when he’d told her to get rid of Nellie.
He didn’t understand her sentimental attachment to the car. Maybe she didn’t, either. But Nellie was the first thing Jessica had owned that had been all her own. And no one would take it away from her. She had worked damn hard to get that car and everything else in her life. She would get the money for these kids. Of that she was certain.
She wiped a tear from her eyes, smiled at the chubby little Rivers baby boy, and squared her shoulders. She would not feel sorry for herself. There were children in the world, right here in Bethesda General, who were ill, who had to endure much worse suffering than she did. Children whose lives depended on expensive medical treatment; children who couldn’t afford it—the very reason she was so disappointed in Dex Montgomery, the reason she would approach him again tomorrow at the board meeting when he wasn’t tired and she was prepared, her data and business plan in hand.
More determined than ever, she headed down the hall toward the pediatric unit. Late at night, she usually found some sick child lying in a hospital bed who felt frightened and alone. She would see who needed her tonight. Then maybe she could sleep when she finally went home. Maybe she wouldn’t have nightmares of losing her baby.
And maybe she’d dream of a way to convince Dex Montgomery to help her.
TY STARED at the massive mahogany table in the dining room in amazement. The entire Cooper clan could fit around it. Yet none of them would feel comfortable with the formal furnishings.
The dark-maroon wallpaper reminded him of heavy drapes he’d seen at a funeral home. A crystal water glass that probably cost more than his grandmother’s entire set of good dishes sat in front of him, and a short glass full of dark liquor—Scotch he presumed, since Dex had been drinking it at the airport—had been placed beside it. He reached for the glass and took a sip. A brush fire started in his throat, scalding his windpipe. Coughing, he grabbed the linen napkin, trying to hide his reaction when George slipped up behind him.
“Are you all right, sir?”
“Yea…yes. Thanks.”
“Your salad.” George handed him a plate of lettuce sprigs that looked like grass roots, followed by a saucer of something slimy.
Ty had no idea what the item was, but he didn’t intend to eat it.
“Your escargot with risotto,” George said, his shoulders thrown back with pride.
Escargot, Ty thought. Hadn’t Leanne told him once that escargot was snails?
He didn’t even eat cow tongue at home! Good grief, with the Montgomery wealth, they could certainly afford better grub. He’d starve to death if he had to eat like this. Irritated, he made a mental note to send Dex a freezer-full of prime hamburger and steak when he returned to Montana.
George stood stiffly by a long buffet, his body poised to jump to Ty’s every “Aren’t you going to eat, sir?”
“Um, I…was looking for the bisc…bread.” And the real food.
“Certainly.”
George returned with a basket of rolls, store-bought most likely, but at least Ty recognized them. Where was the butter?
He searched the table and saw a small china dish with pats of butter, so he slathered two pats on the bread. He inhaled it, only to catch George’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Is something wrong with the escargot, Mr. Dex?”
Yeah, it looks like it crawled out from under a rock.
“Sir?”
Ty could have sworn the man’s voice echoed in the huge empty room. How was he supposed to digest food, especially slimy creatures, with all this silence? Mealtime meant families talking and joking and arguing, rehashing the day on the ranch, kids throwing peas and clanging spoons, his dog Lady begging for scraps at their feet. After dinner Angelica would ride piggyback on his back, the twins would bounce on his knee. And sometimes he’d strum the guitar for a family sing-along on the porch under the stars.
Afterward, he and Pa Cooper would sit and talk—what did his Grandfather Montgomery do after dinner? Sip brandy in his study and read his stock reports?
He pushed the plate of snails away and stood. “Sorry, buddy, but I guess my stomach’s not up to speed tonight. I appreciate the supper, though.”
George made a tssking sound as if he assumed Ty had drunk too much, then took the plate away. “Very well, sir. Shall I draw you a bath?”
Ty nearly choked on the roll. There was no way in hell he’d let another man draw anything in the bathroom with him. “No, thanks.”
&nbs
p; George nodded curtly, looking slightly offended as he rushed away with the plate. Ty grabbed two more rolls and stuffed them in the pockets of his suit so he wouldn’t wake up with his belly so empty it was hitting his backbone, then left to find his bedroom. Poor Dex; how did the man survive on these piddly rations?
Still, he tried to look on the bright side as he climbed the steps in search of his brother’s bedroom. Maybe tomorrow night he would be eating with the entire family and he’d learn more about them and his father. He’d be able to fool them better after a good night’s sleep.
Dr. Stovall’s face materialized in his mind—that is, if he slept at all instead of dreaming about that redheaded vixen all night.
Or if he didn’t give himself away first.
Chapter Four
Jessica woke slowly, a tingling sensation rippling up her arm all the way to her fingers. Slowly, she lifted the child snuggled next to her, slid her arm from beneath him, then flexed her fingers to rejuvenate the blood flow. Her watch read 5:30 a.m. They would be coming to prep Donny for surgery soon
The three-year-old whimpered and opened his eyes. “Dr. Jesse?”
She gently pushed a lock of his blond hair away from his forehead. “What, sweetheart?”
“Stay till my mama gets here.”
Jessica smiled. “Don’t worry, I will.” Donny’s mother would come running in just as soon as she dropped her other two children at day care.
Then Jessica would have to run out in order to have time to shower and change before her eight o’clock appointments at her office. At eleven o’clock she had to break for her meeting with the hospital board. And Dex Montgomery.
“I scared,” Donny whispered, fat tears pooling in his eyes. “What they gonna do to me?”
Jessica squelched the tears flooding her throat, knowing she had to be strong for the little boy, then began to explain one more time the scary surgery he faced. He’d been born with a hole in his heart and the doctors had known they would need to operate eventually. They’d postponed it as long as possible. His prognosis looked good, but the surgery was costly, and his mother’s health insurance minimal.
