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But Dr. Stovall’s passion for her work intrigued him. He felt ashamed for the way he’d treated her yesterday. No wonder she’d been ticked when he’d dismissed her so curtly—he’d thought she intended to seduce him for selfish reasons, when she’d obviously wanted to plead with him to help sick kids, her kids she called them.
And although he’d never been a man who liked suits on women, her dark-green one brought out the green in her eyes, and hugged her body perfectly. He wanted to peel that suit right off. The jacket gaped open to reveal some lacy underthing that reminded him of the underwear he’d seen in a catalog Leanne had once received in the mail. He couldn’t imagine his tomboy neighbor buying it, but his body hardened at the way the lace stroked Jessica’s cleavage when she moved.
Forget it, Ty. She thinks you’re Dex. Besides, she’s not your type.
“These children need our help, gentlemen,” Jessica said, dragging him from his lusty thoughts. “Without it some of them may not receive medical treatment at all.”
His heart twisted at the agony in her eyes.
“There is funding in place,” Grandfather Montgomery interjected. “The Montgomerys contribute to several charities that work with these families as well.”
“It’s not enough.” Jessica’s honeyed voice rang with conviction, her breasts rising with her breath. “Bethesda Hospital is located in a low-income area and draws patients from transient families, immigrants and homes where most single mothers not only work at a minimum-paying job, but also have poor health insurance.”
“That is their choice,” Grandfather Montgomery stated. “We already provide one fund for those in need; we simply can’t give out free services to every one who comes crying.”
Ty sat up straighter, his pulse kicking in at his grandfather’s cold comment. Jessica Stovall’s Irish blood roiled within her. Fire and worry blazed from those fiery green eyes.
“Most of these people are not crying for handouts, Mr. Montgomery. They’re hardworking families who’ve fallen on hard times. Their children have been struck with diseases and illnesses that, unfortunately, require lengthy and sometimes extensive medical procedures which cost an exorbitant amount of money.”
“Dr. Stovall, we’re aware of the problems,” Bridget piped in, “but our company must also maintain a certain financial level in order to operate—”
“You’re operating fine,” Jessica snapped, sending a furious look at Bridget. “Your doctors drive fancy cars and play golf on Fridays while these children suffer.”
Jessica yanked out photographs and began to spread them on the table. “Just look at this little boy. Donny is three years old and has a congenital heart defect. He underwent open heart surgery just this morning.”
Ty saw the faces of his twin nephews in the pictures, and his gut clenched at the thought of one of them undergoing something so frightening. The medical costs would virtually wipe out the Coopers’ ranch.
“There’s a child with leukemia who needs chemotherapy, and this little girl named Ashley was burned and needs skin grafts. Her parents died in the fire that injured her, so she has no one to care for her except an aunt with several children and financial problems of her own.” Color darkened Jessica’s cheeks as she became more impassioned. “Do you want to deny children chemotherapy or surgery, deny them the possibility of seeing another birthday or force them to go through life severely scarred so you can pay your doctors more or put a little more profit in your wallets?”
“Dr. Stovall,” Grandfather Montgomery said sharply. “That is enough.”
Ty snapped, “Yes, it is.” He stood, placing both hands on the table, his eyes glazed as he stared at the precious children’s faces. Jessica had spread out a dozen more photos and he wondered what their stories were, but couldn’t bear to hear any more. He imagined how his family would feel if Angelica or the twins needed medical help they couldn’t afford and no one stepped up to offer assistance. “You’re right, these children are important. We’ll find a way to make it work, Dr. Stovall.”
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