The Doctor Wore Boots. Debra Webb
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same again.
The Gucci briefcase, Louis Vuitton garment bag, and state-of-the-art cellular phone he’d left home with just four days ago were now in the possession of a virtual stranger. A stranger who was his twin brother, who, in another hour or so, would be climbing into his limo and riding to his home to meet his family.
What the hell was he doing here?
Dex dropped the army-style duffel bag belonging to Ty Cooper to the ground. He tugged at the collar of the unstarched shirt he now wore and attempted to straighten the off-the-rack jacket. It was very obvious to Dex that his brother had absolutely no taste in clothing. The jeans were criminally worn and far too tight for comfort. The boots—Dex shook his head—had definitely seen better days. Though he doubted that even in mint condition he would have cared for the unnaturally high-arched footwear. He tried not to think about the cowboy hat perched atop his head. The urge to remove it was almost more than he could restrain.
Didn’t cowboys keep their hats on at all times?
What had possessed him to change clothes with another man, brother or not, in an airport rest room?
Temporary insanity. It was the only possible explanation. Stress had finally taken its toll. George, his valet, friend and confidant, had warned him that he was pushing too hard, working far too many hours. But Dex had refused to listen. He had to prove his worth, couldn’t risk disappointing his grandfather. He was thirty-two, for Pete’s sake. He had mountains to climb and oceans to cross. His mark to make.
He had lost his mind. Here he stood, in the middle of nowhere, when he should be dictating correspondence, crunching numbers, planning takeovers. His grandfather counted on him, trusted him unconditionally.
He couldn’t do this.
One telephone call would end this ruse here and now.
Dex grabbed the bag he’d abandoned on the ground and pivoted toward the airport entrance. This was a bad idea. Surely there would be another flight out of here sometime tonight. At the moment he really didn’t care where it was going, as long as it took him back to a more recognizable form of civilization.
“Ty!”
A vehicle screeched to a halt behind him.
“Ty! Over here!” a feminine voice shouted.
Dex froze. Ty. His transportation had arrived. Dex swore under his breath. He should just keep walking without looking back. But then he’d never know…
Slowly, his head throbbing with frustration and the lingering effects of alcohol, he turned and faced step two of his self-created nightmare.
A young woman waved from behind the wheel of an old pickup truck. “Sorry you had to wait!” she called. She leaned across the seat and opened the passenger-side door. “I didn’t know until an hour ago that I would be coming to pick you up.”
Blond hair, blue eyes—she was very young, twenty-two or three maybe. Dex frowned, searching his memory banks for the name that went with the face. Leanne. Leanne Watley. Neighbor. Family friend. The kid-sister type, Ty had said.
“I got here as fast as I could,” she hastened to add when he continued to simply stare at her. “Come on. Gran’s holding supper until I get you home. They’ve got a big celebration planned for your return.”
Somehow his feet moved. Dex wasn’t exactly sure how he managed the monumental task considering his brain felt paralyzed with uncertainty, but he took the necessary steps just the same.
He slid onto the ragged bench seat and awkwardly settled the big duffel onto his lap. He couldn’t imagine what possessed people to drive vehicles like this. There was no place to put anything. And the seat was most uncomfortable.
Leanne laughed. “You can put that in the back. It’s not raining.”
The back. “Of course.” His face heated. He wasn’t usually so inept. As he climbed out of the vehicle, Dex hoped she couldn’t see the level of disorientation afflicting him. His movements felt jerky, his ability to think nonexistent. He placed the worn bag into the bed of the truck and settled back into the passenger seat. He closed the door and offered her a strained smile. “Thank you.”
She frowned, just the slightest creasing of her smooth brow. “I guess you’re really tired. I’m sorry you had to wait for a ride.”
“Your delayed arrival was completely understandable,” he assured her. “Considering the unexpected change in my return itinerary, your reaction time was quite acceptable.”
Her eyes widened with something that looked very much like worry. “Are you all right, Ty? You sound a little…strange.”
Dex realized his mistake immediately. He was Ty Cooper now. Looking like him wasn’t enough, he had to speak and act like him as well.
“Jet lag,” he offered as much to his surprise as to hers. Could one actually acquire jet lag on a short jaunt that only crossed one time zone?
She nodded. “Oh.”
By the time they left Bozeman behind, the sick feeling in the pit of Dex’s stomach had escalated to a near-intolerable level. He shifted restlessly, peering out the window. How long before they would reach the ranch? How could he possibly fool Ty’s grandparents? This would never work. He should just demand that she turn around right now and take him back to the airport. Instead, he reviewed over and over again the information Ty had relayed to him regarding his family and the layout of the ranch. He reminded himself again to use his left hand as much as possible. Ty was a lefty.
“How’d the meeting with those investors go?” she asked, breaking the long, awkward silence.
Dex jerked back to attention. “Excuse me?”
“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” She looked at him with that genuine concern again.
“Yes, yes,” he assured her. “I’m fine. The meeting went…was okay…I guess.” He’d forgotten to ask Ty why he was in Chicago. She’d said investors. “I won’t know anything for a few days,” he added for good measure. That was typical. Investors made lots of promises, but the real story was revealed much more slowly. If Ty had begun some sort of deal, only time would tell if it was a good one or not.
Leanne sighed. “That’s too bad. I know you were hoping to have news when you got back.”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I was.”
He glanced at the young woman behind the wheel. What was she thinking? Had she seen through him already? Worry twisted inside him. If he couldn’t get through a few simple questions from a neighbor without making her suspicious, how on earth would he fool the Coopers?
“I know how much this deal means to you, Ty,” she went on, worry weighting her voice. “But maybe it’s like your pa said. Maybe you’ll just have to be happy with things the way they are. It’s not like you don’t have enough buyers to keep your ranch going. The Circle C has provided high-quality beef to its customers for three generations now.”
The cattle market. So that was the kind of investors Ty had gone to the city to meet. Dex was somewhat familiar with the distressed American market. Foreign beef had made a big comeback in the United States recently, a huge surge from the past couple of years when disease had wrought such devastation for European countries. Was Ty trying to increase the reach of his own ranch’s production? That sounded reasonable to Dex. He’d have to ask Ty about that or risk making a wrong step.
“I’d like to go to Chicago sometime,” Leanne said wistfully, drawing Dex’s attention in her direction. She huffed, her gaze steady on the endless ribbon of blacktop that lay before them. “I’ve never even been out of the state. I don’t know why I’m fretting over Chicago. I doubt I’ll ever be going there.”
Dex looked at her then, really looked at her. She was quite attractive. She wore no makeup as far as he could tell, but she didn’t need any. She looked vibrant, healthy.