The Rancher Wore Suits. Rita Herron
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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.
Patients like Donny were the reason she lobbied for more money for the children’s wing.
“And when you wake up, your heart’s going to be fixed, just like brand new,” she finished softly.
She only wished Dex Montgomery’s heart defect could be repaired with surgery as well.
THE SOUND of a knock woke Ty from a deep sleep. He flexed and rolled to a sitting position in his brother’s big sleigh bed, surprised when he glanced at the clock and saw it was already 6:00 a.m. Geez, when had he slept so late?
Normally he crawled out of bed with the roosters.
He had to admit Dex’s bed was comfortable, but he missed his feather pillows.
George opened the door and peeked in, a tray laden with coffee and newspapers in hand. Ty’s stomach growled, wishing he had some bacon and eggs. He’d probably have that waiting downstairs. Maybe he’d get to eat with his grandparents.
He waited till George set the tray down before he wrapped the sheet around him and stood.
George stared at him with that pinched odd look again, as if he were wondering what planet Ty had stepped off. Dex probably walked around in front of the man in his underwear but Ty did not get naked with other men. He was not shy, but he had to draw the line somewhere with this ruse.
“Your workout clothes are on the vanity in the dressing room, along with today’s attire, sir.”
Ty picked up the cup of coffee and sniffed. It smelled odd, as if it had some kind of flavoring in it, like the almond extract Gran Cooper used in her pound cakes.
“I know you must have missed your special brand in Chicago,” George offered, his voice laced with pride.
Ty hated to offend him, but he could no more down the sweet-scented stuff than he could swallow those slimy snails the night before. “Actually,” he began, clawing through his hair. God, he missed his hat. “I think we need to get diverse,” he said, proud of his vocabulary. “I had some of that regular stuff in Chicago. Why don’t you buy some today?”
George’s brows furrowed. “Very well, sir.”
Ty lifted the lid of a tall silver container.
“Your protein shake,” George announced, implying it was his customary breakfast. “The cook added three raw eggs just as you like. Now, I’ll leave you to your morning routine.”
Ty grimaced at the thought of drinking raw eggs, wondering what his normal routine consisted of. At home, he’d eat a big breakfast, then work on the ranch till lunch with the sun beating down and the wide-open space calling his name.
His stomach growled again. “Oh, and pick up some good hamburgers and a steak or two while you’re at it, George.”
George’s mouth fell open, but he quickly snapped it shut. “You aren’t concerned about your cholesterol?”
Ty hedged. “I met with an investor who’s working with the beef industry. Thought I needed to sample some before I give him advice.” At least part of that was true.
George nodded. Apparently he understood business. “Hamburger and steak it is, Mr. Dex.”
“And get enough for my grandparents tonight.”
George halted by the door. “But sir, they won’t be dining here this evening. They have plans at the country club.”
Did they ever dine here? Ty wondered. “Well, when is the next family dinner?”
“I don’t believe they have one scheduled this week.”
They had to schedule family dinners? Now, he’d heard it all.
“Your grandfather said you could ride in with him today if you want. He’s leaving at eight-thirty sharp. Or you can drive yourself, if you want. The Mercedes is back from its grooming.”
They groomed their cars? Ty almost laughed out loud but accepted the offer. At least if he rode with his grandfather, he’d finally get to meet him.
The man who hadn’t wanted him or his mother.
Besides, he had no idea where his office was located or how to get there.
A FEW MINUTES LATER, Ty stood in the middle of a home gym that could have held thirty people. Everything in Dex’s room and closet had been in order, even the gym was neat and organized, the opposite of how Ty lived at home. Gran would like that about Dex; she was always fussing at Ty to clean up.
He raised a skeptical eye at the equipment. He’d considered skipping this part of Dex’s routine, but didn’t want to draw suspicion to himself. Besides, he’d be relaxing the rest of the day, pushing paper behind a desk in some cushy air-conditioned office, signing his name, well, Dex’s name, to a bunch of forms. He’d be so bored he’d be napping by noon. Might as well stay in shape while he was here.
He recognized the stationery bike from TV and the weights. An old buddy from high school had owned a set; he’d wanted to build muscles and impress the girls. He recognized the treadmill, too, from some guy demonstrating it on the tube.
He benched his weight for a few minutes, then climbed on the treadmill. Thank God George had unearthed some tennis shoes for him; they were a hell of a lot more comfortable than those Italian things Dex wore. He wondered if he could wear the sneakers with his suit.
Nah, they’d probably notice.
He fiddled with the knobs for a few minutes, trying to figure out the machine, when the surface beneath him began to move. Slow at first. Not bad. He walked with the motion, trying to adapt to the rhythm.
Piece of cake, although he’d much rather be outside riding his horse Dodger. Studying the different speeds, he punched a few buttons and the motion sped up. Faster, then faster, then faster. He pumped his legs and arms, increasing his pace until he was running to keep up, but the machine sped up, and he felt his feet sliding out from beneath him. Suddenly his shoestring got caught in the rung, his foot was being dragged tighter, closer to the edge, and he thought his ankle was going to snap. He ran faster and faster, jerking his foot, trying to release it, but the motion continued, his toe came close to being ground in the machine, and his chest was aching as he tried to breathe.
“Mr. Dex?”
George’s shout alarmed him and he stumbled and lost the rhythm, then fell face-first against the bars. His nose hit the bar, his eye the handle. George rushed over and flipped off the machine. Ty struggled to breathe. Sweat poured off his body, his nose was bleeding and he thought he might have broken his toe.
“What happened, sir? Are you all right? Shall I call a doctor?”
The genuine concern in George’s voice brought Ty out of his stupor. He could imagine his brother laughing his head off when he found out that Ty had almost killed himself on his treadmill. And he was supposed to be a doctor.
He wondered how Dex was faring on Dodger.
JESSICA HAD JUST finished her first round of patients when Dr. Epstein, head of the hospital board, phoned. Her nerves instantly jumped to alert.
“Are you ready for the meeting today?”
Jessica took a calming breath. She was as ready as she would ever be. “Yes. I have all my information together.”
“I hope you can make this work. If we don’t get an answer in two weeks, the plans for the new wing will be dropped. We’ve