Walker Pride
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty- Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter One ~ STARGAZING
WALKER PRIDE
BOOK 1
THE WALKER FAMILY SERIES
BY
BERNADETTE MARIE
This is a fictional work. The names, characters, incidents, places, and locations are solely the concepts and products of the author’s imagination or are used to create a fictitious story and should not be construed as real.
5 PRINCE PUBLISHING AND BOOKS, LLC
PO Box 16507
Denver, CO 80216
www.5PrinceBooks.com
ISBN-10: 1631121170 ISBN 13: 978-1-63112-117-3
WALKER PRIDE
Bernadette Marie
Copyright Bernadette Marie, 2015
Published by 5 Prince Publishing
Front Cover designed by Bernadette Soehner
Photo by: Vasily Pindyurin
Author Photo: David Kappell, 2009
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations, reviews, and articles. For any other permission please contact 5 Prince Publishing and Books, LLC.
First Edition/First Printing June 2015 Printed U.S.A.
5 PRINCE PUBLISHING AND BOOKS, LLC.
Stan,
There is great pride in being your wife
and the mother of your children.
I love you, forever and a day.
Acknowledgements:
To my Fab 5 who forever inspire me with all of the amazing things they do and the men they are becoming…I love you.
To my man who has more faith in me than I do in myself…I love you.
To my mom, dad, and sister who keep me grounded in who I am…I love you.
To Connie, Clare, and June who grin and nod when I need them to and then get the work done that I neglect…THANK YOU!
To my Street Team, my readers, and my fellow authors who bring me back to the computer every day to do what I love because they share their support with me…Thank you!
Dear Reader,
This is an exceptionally exciting journey! A new series and a new family to fall in love with.
When it was time to build this family, the Walkers, I reached out to my readers and they helped me build this amazing family and they voted to settle them in Georgia. I am blessed to have these special people reach out to me and become my friends.
Eric Walker was an instant attraction to me. I knew from the moment we decided on him that he was going to be a man with some deep seeded feelings. I hope that in creating Susan, a woman with a good head on her shoulders, I was able to make him loveable in the way I felt him.
This family will be particularly fun because not all of them are likable—yet. They all have some demons and some secrets, but the fun will be when we get to sort that all out.
Welcome to the Walker Family. Enjoy your stay!
Happy Reading!
Bernadette Marie
WALKER PRIDE
Chapter One
Fog rolled in over the ground, giving the acreage around the house an eerie feel.
Eric Walker pulled up the collar of his jacket and let out a sigh. It was appropriate for the day to be gloomy, he thought. When you laid someone in the ground, it was fitting for it to rain or be down right cold, as it was today.
He walked down the old steps of the house to his truck, which waited for him like a good horse. Always ready for an adventure. He’d have taken his horse, but his stepmother would frown on it. Not that he’d have cared, but for his father’s sake he chose not to.
As he climbed into the old Ford, its red paint faded and its fender bent in, he kicked the mud off his boots before he swung his feet inside.
Some things were sacred like the inside of a man’s truck. Though the outside had seen many days in the fields, the inside was an oasis of new interior, which pleased Eric.
The engine would be the next upgrade, he thought as he gave her some gas as he turned the key. There was some hesitation, but a moment later she roared to life, ready to take him anywhere.
Eric avoided the main house as much as he could.
He hadn’t been very old when his mother died, but while she lived in the big house, she had added her touches. Rooms were decorated feminine and they just felt homey.
Of course, he would think that. His mother had done the work herself and had taken great pride in it. But when she passed away and a year later his father remarried. Glenda changed everything.
He’d been ten when the last room received its final coat of new paint and he’d held that grudge since.
As the road to the house tossed him back and forth he adjusted the dial on his radio. It was the kind of day for wallowing in misery with Hank.
His mother loved Patsy Cline. He could still hear her singing as she painted his childhood bedroom.
It was foolish for a man of forty to think so far back and get so worked up, but funerals did that to him.
It had been his grandfather, George Walker, they’d laid to rest in the family cemetery and that was what made him start thinking about his mother.
Her headstone was a mere few feet from his grandfather’s. CONSTANCE WALKER. The letters had seemed so big for such a small woman.
Eric could have done with walking away after the old man was lowered into the ground yesterday, but now he had to trek to the house to hear the will.
He couldn’t have cared less about who got what. His grandfather had always promised him the house on the edge of the property, where he’d lived since he was eighteen. There was no reason to assume he’d go back on his word.
Eric wondered about some of his cousins though. Would greed set in?
His own brothers were much like him. They were grateful for what they had. They worked hard and made honest livings. Everett Walker hadn’t raised his boys to be anything less than honest men. That alone gave Eric some pride.
He loved his brothers. He was eight when Dane had been born and there had been a lot of honest animosity, but that had come from a boy who missed his own mother.
Glenda, though she changed the house’s décor, was the best replacement for his mother Eric could wish for. She never treated Eric as though he were someone else’s child. She raised him as her own, with respect to his own mother.
Eric kicked up the heat in the truck as he crossed over the little bridge that connected the two original pieces of land over the small creek, which divided it.
All of his cousins had been at the funeral. Well, everyone but Bethan
y. It was completely possible his uncle Byron had forgotten to tell her that their grandfather had died at all. Or, she was so busy with her life in L.A. it was just too much to pack up to say goodbye to a grandfather she really didn’t know.
Eric’s uncle was a piece of work himself, he thought as he slowed to check the cattle grazing in the field to his right.
Byron Walker had five children, just as his father did. Only he’d been married and divorced twice and he’d never even married Bethany’s mother.
His father and uncle were complete opposites. Everett Walker, his father, was a family man. He was committed to each member of his family and to his wife. He saved money, nearly to a fault, Eric thought, and he worked harder than any other man Eric had ever known.
His uncle Byron, on the other hand, loved to live life as if it were a party. He’d nearly gone bankrupt three times.
It was well known he was not a faithful husband, which could have been why he’d been married and divorced. And his children were just people who had passed through his life.
Eric got along with his cousins, but they had never had a chance to become close. They came for visits when they were growing up and Todd had worked on the land for years, but he kept to himself.
It only made the drive to the house that much worse by thinking about everyone being in one room—together.
There were at least a dozen vehicles parked in the loop out front of the main house, each one as different as its owner.
Eric parked the furthest away. If he were able, he’d be the first one out. He stepped out of the truck onto the soft ground. Rain had softened the ground and he was sure his stepmother was already fit to be tied with the shoes coming into the house.
His father wouldn’t tolerate her asking everyone to kick them off at the door. Eric could lay down bets that the carpet cleaner van would be parked there by tomorrow morning.
Not wanting to make a grand entrance, as the last one to arrive, he walked around to the back of the house and pulled open the back door.
The woman standing in his mother’s kitchen jumped and placed her hands on her chest.
“You startled me,” she gasped and let out a breath.
Eric looked her over. He’d seen her before, but he couldn’t put a place to it.
The woman kept working. There were assorted trays on the counter and island. Obviously she was a caterer, and that was where he realized he knew her. She’d catered the reception after the funeral.
Eric toed off his boots. It was the least he could do for his stepmother, even if he hated the idea.
“So what’s going on in here?” he asked.
“Mrs. Walker wanted to have a small sandwich service while the attorneys were here.”
Eric nodded. “Platters of meats and breads. She hired you to do it?”
The woman shrugged, perhaps brushing off the insult he’d landed on her. “It’s what I do. Yesterday’s buffet was okay wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was fine.”
She grinned as she continued to work. “Fine. This is why I need a sit-down restaurant so I can create items that are more than fine.”
“I didn’t mean…”
She raised her eyes to meet his. “I know. This is what I have to do to pay for culinary school. Someday it will be much more than sandwich trays and buffets.”
“You want to own a restaurant, huh?” he asked as he reached over to the tray and took a black olive and popped it into his mouth.
Her eyes followed him and her lips tightened. “Yes. This isn’t forever.”
The unmistakable clicking of his stepmother’s shoes pierced his ears. He could hear the mumbling of his entire family, close and extended, down the hall. There was no doubt she was coming looking for him.
“Eric, I thought I heard that old truck of yours. The entire family is waiting for you.”
He gave the woman rolling ham into rolls a glance and she was smirking, her back toward his stepmother.
“I’ll follow you down,” he said as his stepmother turned and walked away. He leaned in toward the woman. “No fair laughing as she scolded me.”
The woman laughed then leaned in closer. “She scares me a little.”
“Yeah, she’s scared the hell out of me since I was eight.” That warranted a laugh. “I guess I’d better go. I can think of a million things I’d rather be doing.”
He picked up a ham roll and took a bite as she narrowed her eyes at him.
“She’s going to probably count each of those to make sure she’s paying the right amount.”
“If she short pays you I’m good for it. If she doesn’t tip you enough either, let me know. I’m good for that too.”
“Something tells me you’re trouble.”
He bit off another bite. “I’ve been known to be that too.”
She moved the tray of meat out of his reach. “I’ll be sure to be in touch if I need to collect.”
Eric held out his hand to her, but before she took it, she wiped her own on her apron. “Eric Walker.”
“Susan Hayes.”
“Eric!” His stepmother’s voice echoed down the hall.
“I’m forty years old. You think she’d realize I don’t play by her rules anymore.”
“Do you play by anyone’s rules?”
“Just my own.”
She took back her hand and reached for a bag of rolls. “Like I said something tells me you’re trouble.”
Eric shot her a grin as he stole a roll from the bag. Perhaps after putting up with his entire family he would actually stick around and watch the caterer work. He hadn’t had anyone pique his interest in a long time. It might be worth mingling with his family just to let her interest him a little more.
Chapter Two
Eric was still finishing the roll he’d stolen from Susan’s catering tray when he walked into his father’s home office. When his entire family was in one small room, he realized just how big a family it was.
His father and uncle sat in the chairs that faced the desk. His grandfather’s attorney sat behind the desk.
Tension was thick in the air as all eyes diverted to him. Without a word, he only gave the glaring crowd a nod and leaned up against the doorjamb next to his brother.
The lawyer opened the sealed envelope and Eric watched as his stepmother’s hand came to his father’s shoulder. She was worried she’d lose her home. Truth was, he was a little worried he’d lose his as well.
As the lawyer began with formalities, stating that when his grandfather penned the will he was of sound mind. Eric wondered how sound minded one would have to be to sit down and document who gets what when you kick the bucket.
Bethany caught his eye in the other corner of the room. At least someone told her the old man had died. He gave her a smile when she looked his way and she diverted her attention back to biting her nails—a bad habit she’d always had.
Eric thought it was odd that both of his uncle’s ex-wives were there. He could be absolutely sure his grandfather hadn’t left them anything. He’d never liked either woman his uncle had married. Nor had he liked Bethany’s mother either. Uncle Bryce had never had luck with the women.
That thought stuck with him. He was forty and he hadn’t had much luck either. Perhaps he’d better not judge too heavily.
The lawyer continued on with the formalities, noting that his father was to be the executor of the estate. That hadn’t been a surprise to anyone in the room. Everett Walker was much more responsible then his brother Byron—even in his sixties.
“The homestead will need to be divided,” the lawyer continued and that had a few more heads rise. “Within a year of my passing the North pasture and house will become the property of Elias Morgan.”
“What?”
Eric realized he and his father had spoken at the same time.
The lawyer raised his hand to quiet them both. “It was settled in a bout of bad luck years ago. The Morgan family will regain rights to the property which I purchased
from them nearly fifty years ago.”
Eric stepped further into the room. “It just goes back to them? He bought the property. I’ve seen the bill of sale and the deed. Why would he just give it back?”
He noticed his father’s fist tighten on his lap as he shrugged his wife’s hand off his shoulder and turned toward his brother.
“Byron, I have the strangest feeling this has something to do with you.”
His uncle’s chin darted out. “You would.”
“Don’t you…” His father stopped as his stepmother placed a hand on his shoulder again. He took a breath. “Why is it that a piece of very good property, legally purchased fifty years ago, now goes back to the original owner in a ‘bout of bad luck?’”
Eric watched as his uncle wiped his brow. “I might have lost it in a poker game.”
His father came out of his chair and Eric moved in quickly before Dane grabbed hold of his arm.
“Let him explain,” Dane said through gritted teeth.
“Everyone suffers a bit of bad luck,” Jake, Byron’s eldest son, said in defense of his father.
“Bad luck?” Eric shrugged off his brother’s grip. “That piece of land belonged to our grandfather, not your father. Who has the right to do something like that?”
“Eric,” his father’s voice broke through as he stood. “My father would pay off any debt of his children. I can’t imagine what we’ll find out in the next year.”
Byron pushed to his feet and his daughter Audrey moved in next to him. She was anything but fierce, so Eric could only imagine that she’d stepped in hoping no one would yell any further.
Walker Pride (The Walker Family Book 1) Page 1
