Rita Herron - The Rancher Wore Suits

Jessica Stovall had cold feet.

Not in bed, as her ex-husband had once said, but cold feet about meeting Dex Montgomery. She was seriously considering turning her car around and heading as far away from the Atlanta airport as possible.

Had she actually volunteered—no insisted—she’d pick up Dr. Montgomery from the airport?

She must be a glutton for punishment.

Her 1985 VW Bug hit the curb as she parked in the short-term parking area, and she coasted backward, wincing when the gears ground together. She parked on a slight incline, then removed the rock from the floorboard and placed it behind the front wheel to keep the car from rolling. Someday, she had to get that emergency brake fixed. Her ex-husband had wanted her to sell the car a long time ago. But Nellie had been with her forever.

Just as she’d once thought her husband would be.

Only, Nellie hadn’t let her down the way he had. A hollow emptiness pulled at her, the old pain re-surfacing. He had left her when she’d needed him most. She kept Nellie because she needed to know something was constant in her life, that she wouldn’t lose everything.

She hopped out, crossed the busy crosswalk, dodged a taxi and stumbled into the baggage claim area where Dr. Montgomery’s financial advisor had told her to meet him. This morning she’d knocked on his office door, hoping to beg him to reconsider his decision about funding the new children’s wing at the hospital, but the doctor’s gorgeous assistant, Bridget Holmes, had greeted her with a cool smile instead. Bridget was supposed to pick up Dex, but she planned to call a limo service for him. Jessica had jumped at the chance to give him a ride. Since she’d gone out of her way to make a trip to drive him home, he’d have to feel indebted to her and listen to her spiel.

At least she hoped he’d listen.

Dex Montgomery, doctor turned entrepreneur, was a shrewd businessman and seemed to have a heart for nothing but stock dividends and flow charts.

Jessica was the opposite. She loved her patients, the children at the hospital who needed tender loving care along with medical treatment. And she intended to see that they received the best of both. After all, the kids were her family now. The only one she would ever have.

She couldn’t let them down.

According to Dr. Epstein, she only had two weeks to get the money, too, or the plans for the children’s wing would be cut off completely. Besides, there were a few children who desperately needed money for treatment now.

Gathering her composure, she straightened her suit jacket and searched the crowd flooding the baggage-claim area for Dr. Montgomery. She was a respected pediatrician, a woman who’d risen from poverty to make a good life for herself by caring for others and keeping them from suffering. She refused to let Dex Montgomery intimidate her or reduce her to a jittery female.

His six-foot-plus, Armani-clad self would appear any second. All she had to do was play nice, dig deep enough to unearth his compassionate side, and ask him for money.

Piece of cake.

Yeah, right.

Facing a firing squad might be easier than getting money from a Montgomery.

A DEEP SENSE of panic mushroomed inside Ty as the plane coasted to the runway. Two hours and a few drinks ago, this trading places idea had sounded like fun.

But now his beer-induced bravado had worn off and reality had hit with the force of a two-by-four.

This charade was a mistake.

He should get off the plane and book a return trip to Bozeman. And fast.

The plane screeched to a halt, rolled to the gate, and when the seat belt sign dinged, impatient passengers flooded the aisles, obviously anxious to return to their lives.

His stomach twisted. He should be getting back to his life—in Montana. Mending fences and herding cattle. Trying to figure out a way to improve things.

Not playing dress-up in this uncomfortable suit and choking tie. How did Dex stand it?

Because he’d never known anything else.

An ache, soul-deep, settled in Ty’s chest. Somewhere in midair, he had contemplated what his family had done to him and to Dex, and his shock had dwindled, turning into anger and hurt. His loving grandparents, the ones who’d drilled into him his entire value system, had lied to him, had denied him knowledge of his own brother and his other grandparents.

He wasn’t sure if he could forgive them.

Not only had they denied him knowledge about his father, but they’d robbed him of knowing his identical twin brother. What would his parents have thought if they’d known their boys had been split up after their deaths?

Maybe he would find out when he arrived, and maybe he’d learn a little about the man who’d fathered him.

And about why the Montgomerys had wanted nothing to do with him.

People rushed down the aisle, and Ty finally stood, reaching overhead for his beat-up duffel. Instead, his hand brushed over the soft leather garment bag Dex had shoved in his hands. He couldn’t forget that damn briefcase, either. Dex had gotten so riled when Ty had almost left it in the bathroom after they’d exchanged clothes, a vein had bulged in his forehead. Apparently, Dex guarded the hunk of leather, along with his cell phone, as if they were his life. Ty scoffed. The bag alone cost more than he paid his ranch hands in a day. He wiggled his cramped toes inside the custom-made Italian shoes and almost tripped. The stupid shoes gave no support to his ankles. He certainly couldn’t ride with them.

Of course, Dex didn’t need a horse; he had cars and limos and taxis.

No, Dex had money. The kind that could have helped the Coopers.

But Ty didn’t want their money. He simply wanted some answers about his past. The Montgomerys had given him up without batting an eye, and they’d written off Ty’s sweet, loving mother because she was a rancher’s daughter. Apparently they’d thought the Coopers weren’t good enough. Just as Paula had thought he wasn’t good enough for her.

The old pain haunted him.

I could never live on a ranch, she had said.

And he couldn’t live anywhere else.

Besides, Dex seemed to have some strange ideas about his wealth himself. What was the last thing Dex had told him? Be wary of everyone, especially the women. They all want me for my money.

Ty could only imagine. No one had ever wanted him for his money. But he had certainly been exploited by a woman. Again, he thought of Paula. Just the sound of her name brought back bad memories.

Yes, he’d better be on his toes.

The ones that were now pinched and aching inside Dex’s stiff Italian loafers. He slowly made his way out of the plane towards the gate. Thank goodness Dex’s financial advisor planned to meet him in baggage claim. He’d follow her lead and let her show him the ropes. And when he met his other grandparents, maybe he would understand how they could keep one grandson and throw away the other.

JESSICA WRUNG HER HANDS together, trying to calm her nerves as she saw Dex Montgomery’s tall, commanding presence rise above the crowd. The man was so darned good-looking he would stand out anywhere. His dark sexy gaze caught hers and a twitch of a smile actually pulled at the corner of his mouth, then he scanned the crowd without speaking.

Her stomach quivered, her pulse clamored and perspiration beaded her forehead.

She assured herself it was simply nerves.

She had too much riding on this project.

His chin lifted, and he strode right past her as if he didn’t even know her.

Sure, he expected Bridget, but did he have to pretend she didn’t exist? She called his name, fighting irritation, “Dr. Montgomery.”

He continued looking across the crowd, oblivious.

She threaded her way between an overweight man and some teenagers until she stood behind him. “Dr. Montgomery.”