The Rancher Wore Suits

“Bridget couldn’t make it,” she said, shaking off the unsettling feeling. “Something about a business dinner. I offered to pick you up instead.”

He stared at her as if he didn’t recognize her, his thick dark brows drawn together. He’d let his hair grow, too, about a half-inch longer than she remembered, giving him a rugged, primitive appearance. He probably wouldn’t use an out-of-town barber, she thought, dismissing the slight difference and its effect on her. “Do you have more luggage?”

He shook his head, indicating the garment bag. “I carried on.”

She nodded. “Come on, then. I parked in the short-term lot.” He headed toward the MARTA sign and she frowned. What was wrong with him? He’d been in the Hartsfield airport at least a thousand times.

“It’s this way.” She laid her hand on his arm again. “Are you all right, Dr. Montgomery?”

He tipped his head and started toward the exit. “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.” He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she’d never seen him use. The movement spiked the ends, sending a lock over his high forehead. Somehow it made him seem vulnerable. “I fell asleep on the plane. I guess I’m not awake yet.”

“Yes, I heard your flight was delayed.” She led him through the doors toward her trusted VW. “Don’t worry. I’ll have you home in no time.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Worry laced his deep voice. “After all, it’s awfully late for a woman to be downtown alone.”

Jessica faltered, surprised by his concern. Maybe Dr. Montgomery really had a soft side hiding beneath that steel business veneer. “No, I don’t mind at all. In fact, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you on the way.”

Trepidation filled her, but she gathered her courage. She’d just have to use the old trick her speech teacher in college had told her about—she’d picture him naked while she gave her sales pitch about the children’s wing. Then she wouldn’t be so nervous.

TY FELT NAKED without his Stetson.

Was that the reason this sexy little slip of a woman kept looking at him the way she did? Had he somehow already blown his new identity?

No, she couldn’t possibly know.

Except he hadn’t recognized her, and he obviously should have. But the noisy airport had his head swimming.

Who the hell was this knockout woman, anyway?

A co-worker? Friend? Lover?

She was a little bitty thing, probably about five-three, and she had enormous grass-green eyes and auburn hair with flecks of red and orange that reminded him of a Montana sunset. Soft pink lips created a pouty little mouth that begged to be kissed, and the outline of her jacket showcased breasts that would just fit into the palms of his hands. Heat curled low in his belly, the pool of hunger undeniable.

Taking a deep breath to gather his control, he followed her through the dimly lit parking garage, his eyes feasting on the sway of her hips and the way that dark-blue skirt framed her behind. She had shapely legs, too, as if she exercised regularly, although he couldn’t imagine her wearing dusty jeans or doing hard work on a ranch, like the women he’d grown up with, the type of country girl he’d probably marry one day.

This woman was more like Paula. Educated, prissy, soft.

He’d learned his lesson dating a city girl a long time ago. Once burned, twice shy.

“My car’s over here. I hope you won’t be too uncomfortable, Dr. Montgomery.”

A lover wouldn’t call him doctor, would she?

“We’ll just put your bag in the trunk.”

She stopped at an old red VW bug, or what he guessed had once been red. The paint had faded, giving it a splotched effect, and the sunlight had turned the red to a dull orange.

He’d expected a limo, or Bridget to show up in an expensive sports car or Mercedes. Then again, he didn’t really care. He was a humble guy himself.

His brother’s words rang in his head. Be wary of everyone, especially the women. They all want me for your money.

This knockout had said she wanted to talk to him on the way home. Judging from her ancient car, she probably had financial troubles. Had she offered him a ride because she wanted money from Dex?

And if so, how far would she go to get it?

Chapter Two

Ty wouldn’t mind being seduced by her, he admitted silently. But he would never mix a relationship with business, especially with a woman like that woman.

Besides, Grandma Cooper would paddle his behind.

God, he missed her and the family. They’d probably be planning a welcome-home dinner for him right about now; he could practically smell the steaks sizzling on the grill and taste the buttery home-grown corn and biscuits.

Would the Montgomerys have a special welcome-home dinner, too? With Dex’s favorite foods?

Worry knotted his stomach. He had no idea what Dex’s favorite food was. How would he pull this off? Could he really pretend to be someone he’d just met?

What did he really know about his twin brother?

Nothing, except the information he’d crammed into his brain those few hours they’d sat in the bar. He and Dex might share the same genes, the same face, but they were completely different men.

He wanted to get to know his brother better. When this was over, he would.

The stunning auburn-haired woman next to him cranked the engine, then leaned outside the vehicle, removed a softball-sized rock from beneath her wheel and slid it behind the front seat.

“I have to get Nellie’s emergency brakes repaired,” she said.

He arched a dark brow. “Nellie?”

She nodded, a red blush creeping up her cheek to the auburn roots of her hair. “I named her in college.” She patted the scarred dashboard. “We’ve been together a long time.”

He couldn’t resist a chuckle. Should he offer to fix Nellie’s brakes for her? He was a decent mechanic; he’d fixed his share of farm equipment. Then again, did Dex know anything about cars?

Probably not. And if he did, Ty felt certain he didn’t actually work on them. Dex wouldn’t want to get grease on his expensive suits.

While the woman maneuvered her way through the parking-garage maze, Ty mentally reviewed the few things Dex had told him about himself. Dex had a medical degree, but he’d traded in his stethoscope for a computer. Now, he ran a huge medical conglomerate called Modern Medical Maintenance, Inc. which he’d affectionately called M3I. As if a man could be affectionate about a medical empire, Ty thought. The company owned a chain of cutting-edge facilities throughout the Southeast that sounded like they focused more on maintaining a profit margin than providing quality medical care.

Ty winced. Was he any better, though? He wanted more money to better the ranch.

Hell yes, he was different. He wanted to increase the ranch’s profits so he could make life easier for his family. But he’d never take advantage of people’s business problems or medical conditions to make a buck.

The VW hit a pothole, and he tried to adjust his legs in the cramped space, but his knees hit the dash and his head thumped the ceiling. The city air, the constant barrage of noises and the small space damn near suffocated him.

Oblivious to Ty’s discomfort, the woman wove into the fast-moving traffic. Even this late in the evening, cars flew by as if they were racing in the Indy 500. Ty searched his memory for the woman’s name. But Dex hadn’t mentioned anyone specifically, except for Bridget, his financial advisor.

A car slowed in front of them and several cars blasted their horns. Ty held onto the seat as more horns blared, and a man in a van rolled down his window, shouting obscenities. Lord help them if these maniacs ever came to Rolling Bend and got stopped by a cattle crossing. Where was everyone going in such a hurry?

Buildings and billboards raced by, along with skyscrapers as they drove through downtown Atlanta. A million lights glittered from high-rise apartments and offices, obliterating the stars he might have seen in the Montana sky. How did these people live without fresh air?

“Dr. Montgomery,” the woman began. “I know I mentioned this to you before, but I hope you’ll reconsider giving me the money.”

He gripped the seat edge. Maybe they did business like this in the city, but he was a Montana boy at heart. Sucking in a deep breath, he resorted to the pat answer Dex had told him to use.

“I’m sorry, Sugar, but all my financial decisions go through my advisor.”

“Sugar?”

Judging from the tone of her voice, Ty had committed a cardinal sin. “Miss—”

“It’s not Sugar or Miss,” she said in a tight voice. “It’s Dr. Stovall.” She flashed him an angry look, then pressed her pouty lips together.

He fidgeted in the seat, feeling like a fish out of water, dying on the dusty ground. What the hell had he gotten himself into? At this rate, he’d be discovered before he ever met the Montgomerys.

SO MUCH FOR being indebted, Jessica thought, fuming as she exited I-85 and veered through the Buckhead streets toward Dex Montgomery’s estate.

He’d probably been offended by her car. Or maybe he thought she was foolish for being so tenderhearted she’d actually named her car Nellie.

Heck, why had she told him that little bit of trivia?

She’d just been so nervous and for a minute, he’d looked at her as if he was actually attracted to her, like he would really be interested in what she had to say, so she’d thought she’d seize the moment before it seized her, and she’d started babbling.

Darn it, she’d promised herself no man would ever affect her this way again. Hadn’t she learned anything from her painful divorce? Jack had been a charmer, too. But looks didn’t mean a man had character or that he could accept flaws in someone else.

She didn’t even like Dex Montgomery; how could she let him rattle her so? For heaven’s sakes, he didn’t even use his medical degree to help people; he’d swapped it for stock options and boardrooms.

No, it wasn’t his potent sexuality. She was simply nervous because she’d hoped for his help in funding the hospital wing, and she had so much riding on his decision.

And he’d made the decision in a skinny minute without a single humane thought about whom he might be hurting. Why shouldn’t he? The man had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and had never wanted for anything, while she’d struggled for every scrap of education and every recognition she’d achieved. And those poor families and their sick children…

She stopped at the entrance gate to the long wooded drive of his estate, cranked her window down, refusing to apologize as the glass squeaked and squawked. Finally, she turned to Dex, confused at the baffled look on his face as he stared at the security gate. She was tempted to leave him here and make him walk up the drive.

Then again, maybe he was simply tired tonight, and tomorrow would be different.

Yeah, right.

Still, she pasted on a smile, forcing herself to be professional. “Go ahead, Dr. Montgomery, tell your security to let us through so you can get home to your family. I know you must be anxious to see them.”

ANXIOUS was definitely the word, Ty thought, as he cleared his throat and tested his brother’s name—his new name for the next week or so—“This is Dex, and uh, Dr. Stovall.” He glanced at the doctor’s face, hoping to see some hint of forgiveness for his blunder, but she stared straight ahead as if he didn’t exist.

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 home.

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. “Yes. 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 starved. 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 wings.

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.