Rogue: The Sons of Dusty Walker

by Hunter, Sable

  “Are you coming in or are you going to stand outside all night?”

  Rogue whirled, seeing a motherly looking woman framed in the light flowing from an open door.

  He didn’t move.

  “Rogue Walker, get your ass in here. It’s getting late and I’ve been waiting up for you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He was a Texas boy and Texas boys were polite to women, especially women old enough to be his mama.

  His response brought a laugh from the woman’s lips. “I’m gonna like you.” She held the screen door open for him and he walked into a kitchen made warm by soft lights and great smells. “Cinnamon rolls?”

  “And milk. Sit yourself down.”

  A man walked up from behind the pleasantly plump lady with the kind face. Who did he look like?

  “Lou, this is Rogue. Rogue, this is my husband. He’s a good man to have on your side. Do you want a roll, honey?”

  Lou took Rogue’s duffle. “No, save me one.” He nodded to Rogue. “I’ll put this in the room Marliss made up for you, second floor, west hall, last room on your right. You’ll like it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Arguing with Lou was probably fruitless.

  “The keys to the vehicles are on the pegboard by the back door. Use what you need.” Lou pointed behind him and to the left.

  “I brought my own truck, thank you.” He didn’t want to drive anything that had belonged to Dusty. In fact, he wasn’t going to do one damn thing he didn’t have to. A new sense of rebellion was boiling up inside. What had brought this on? He’d been feeling relatively calm.

  And then he realized. The pictures. It was the pictures that covered one solid wall. Dusty’s image had been caught in a dozen different poses, some with fairly famous people. Many with an attractive woman he assumed to be his wife.

  Marliss placed a warm fragrant cinnamon roll and a big glass of milk on the table. “Eat up.”

  “Couldn’t I have coffee?” Rogue asked.

  “No, it’s too late. You need your rest. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.” She puttered around and handed him a napkin.

  Rogue drank his milk. “This is good.” He didn’t realize he’d been hungry. Dinner was cut short, he’d had other things on his mind.

  “Of course they’re good. Lou made them.” When Rogue looked surprised, she laughed. “He and Cubby are always in competition about something. Which is good for me and Sherry. Cubby introduced some new cinnamon rolls at the Creekside Café, so Lou had to show him up.”

  “I think he did,” Rogue said around a mouthful. “Did you sweeten up Dylan, Jackson and Killian this way?”

  Marliss shook her head. “No, we saved the best for last.” She winked at him. “I hear you’re seeing Kit Ross.”

  Rogue stopped chewing. Marliss had gone from coddling to meddling pretty fast. “We’re old friends.” That was as good an explanation as any.

  “That’s not what Sheila said.” She patted Rogue on the arm. “Never mind. We’ll talk more about this tomorrow.” She began to turn out the lights, then picked up his plate and glass. “If you’ll be down here at seven, I’ll have pancakes and bacon ready for you.”

  “I don’t usually eat breakfast,” Rogue muttered.

  “I bet you did while you lived with your mama.” She went to a closet and opened the door. “And you’ll eat breakfast while you’re staying with me.” Marliss handed him a big thick book. “If you can’t sleep, here’s something for you to look at.”

  “What’s this?” Rogue asked.

  She took him by the arm and started walking him toward the stairs. “I’ll show you around the place tomorrow.”

  “What’s in this book?” he asked again.

  Marliss smiled at him. “You. The topic of that book is you.”

  * * *

  Rogue wiped the condensation off the side mirrors of his truck. His image was obscured by fog, much like his life. He felt as if he’d been living on the outskirts of something big that he hadn’t even known was there, existing on the fringe and never realizing what he’d been missing. The scrapbook had been a revelation. He’d stayed up until three, staring at photograph after photograph of himself as a baby, a toddler – playing sports, riding horses, attending church, his whole life on display. His mother had to have sent Dusty the pictures, but Rogue had never known. The pages of the memory book were well worn as if someone had touched and stared at them repeatedly.

  This morning, frankly, he didn’t know how he felt. Marliss had sensed his mood and his restlessness. She’d plied him with strong coffee and blueberry pancakes. “I won’t bother you this morning, but we’ll talk when you’re ready,” she’d said.

  Now he was on his way to the office to meet Walt Forester, another of Dusty’s mineral and oil rights specialists. Today he was going out in the field. Rogue wondered how his brothers had reacted to this situation. It was second nature to him, and if he was going to be honest, Rogue was excited. Lone Wolf was young, his resources were limited. Not so with Walker Mineral. The idea that he could play in the big leagues of the oil business was exciting.

  When he arrived at the office, a middle-aged man with a paunch and a fringe of grayish-brown hair was waiting on him out front. “Rogue?” he called as soon as he cut the truck’s engine. “There’s no use going in. We have a lot to do.”

  Before Rogue could agree or protest, Walt had opened the passenger door and joined him. “Hope you don’t mind if we take your truck. Vic has the company vehicle and mine’s in the shop.”

  “Not at all.” Rogue shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you. Elaine was telling me you’re Lone Wolf out of Austin.”

  “I am. We’re just starting but I signed a pretty lucrative deal a few days ago.”

  “Not surprised. You’re Dusty’s boy. I don’t know what he told the others, not much I’m thinking, but he confided in me while we traveled. We’re closer to the same age, been friends a long time. He was proud of you,” Walt confided.

  Rogue felt a knot form in his throat. He didn’t really want to hear this. Trying to maintain the level of animosity that he’d harbored for his father for so long was beginning to be difficult. But he wasn’t ready to turn loose of it—not yet. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

  Walt waited a few moments to reply, probably digesting the fact that Rogue didn’t want to talk about his dad. “Well, we’ve got two places to visit. Let’s drive north out of town and head west. There’s a small farming community about an hour away that’s fixing to give Kansas a few more millionaires. I think we’ve found something.”

  As they drove Walt talked and Rogue listened. “I’ve seen a lot in my time and Dusty saw even more. A few weeks before he was killed, we talked about the craze sweeping the prairies of Kansas. Your father built a good business buying up leases for oil drillers. Up until a few years ago, he was purchasing leases for around fifteen to twenty dollars an acre. Now those prices have shot up into the thousands of dollars.”

  “I know what you mean.” Rogue nodded. “It’s the same in Texas, Louisiana and Oklahoma. Horizontal drilling has made a big difference.”

  “It’s almost like a gold rush,” Walt noted, adjusting the air conditioner vent to blow more directly on him. “New technology is turning acreage once thought to be drained dry of oil and gas into huge untapped reserves that will produce for the next century.”

  “I agree.” Rogue followed Walt’s directions as he pointed which way to turn. “Hydraulic fracturing coupled with horizontal drilling has changed the complexion of the oil industry in our country. I’ve heard estimates that two trillion barrels of oil are waiting to be drilled, nearly twice what’s available in the Middle East and North Africa.”

  “Dusty was in the middle of it all,” Walt said. “Because of his foresight and optimism, thousands of jobs have been created in our state. Landowners are receiving huge payouts from leasing agreements and soon from royalty checks.”

  “Yea, Dust
y was a saint,” Rogue drawled.

  “Well, no.” Walt smiled. “He was a human being with all the requisite faults, but a keen sense of humanity. If he saw a need, he tried to meet it and that’s a characteristic you don’t find every day.”

  Rogue was so tired of people singing Dusty’s praises that he didn’t know what to do. So, he tried to change the subject. “You know what I envisioned us doing today?”

  “What?” Walt asked.

  “I figured you spent most of your days at local courthouses, searching through handwritten records scribbled in land books.”

  Walt chuckled, rubbing a hand over the smooth dome of his head. “Hey, you’re not that far off. That’s still the only way here to track down ownership of mineral rights to countless acres of wheat fields. Today we’ll be meeting up with some landowners to see if we can get them to sign.”

  “A visit from you is like Ed McMahon stopping by with a big check from Publisher’s Clearing house.” Rogue slowed down as he came into a speed zone.

  “I don’t think he actually worked for them, that’s an urban legend,” Walt mused. “But you’re right, we make people’s dreams come true.”

  “Competition must be fierce.”

  “It is,” Walt agreed, “that’s why we’re here today. We need to get this sewn up. We’ve been working on the Wright Field for months and losing your father could have set us back, so we’ve doubled our efforts to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “You know, I used to think of Kansas in terms of tornadoes and hot weather. Now, I’m seeing it in a whole new light.” It wasn’t just the opportunity that was changing his mind, Rogue knew it was Kit too. He just wasn’t ready to consider what it all might mean. He didn’t know if he’d ever be ready.

  “Good. I brought you on purpose today. These folks need to see a Walker and that you already speak the language is a plus.”

  For the next few hours Rogue followed Walt’s lead and they visited four farming families. Folks whose lives were about to be changed. When they were through, Rogue turned to Walt. “I wonder if they’ll be buying yachts.”

  Walt laughed. “No, but they’ll pay cash for their tractors from now on.” As they headed back to Red Creek, Walt consulted his phone. “Look, I have to check on my car. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you’re ready to try some of this on your own. Why don’t you take the Lear and fly to St. Joseph? We need to do one of those courthouse deed searches you were talking about. This will give you a hands-on opportunity to see how things work without me looking over your shoulder. Take your time, get some dinner, spend the night if you want. This is your company – act like it.”

  Rogue considered what Walt said. “All right,” he agreed.

  “Great.” He handed Rogue a folder and a company tablet. “Here’s all the information you’ll need.” When they got back to town, Walt asked to be let off at the garage. “You know where the airport is, Dusty had it built for his use a few years ago. I’ll telephone the pilot and tell him to expect you.”

  Rogue thanked him. As he was pulling out, he had an idea. Walt was right. This was his company. He could take a guest with him if he wanted to. Picking up his phone, he gave Kit a call.

  “Hello?” She answered after three rings.

  “What you doing?”

  “Paperwork. Yuck.”

  Rogue smiled. “Well, I’m your hero, here to save you from boredom. Pack a bag and I’ll be by after you in a few minutes.”

  “Where are we going?”

  He could hear the happiness in her voice. “St. Joseph, work trip. We’ll be mixing business with pleasure.”

  “I’m all for that. I’ll be ready.”

  “Good.” Once they’d hung up, he called Marliss and let her know. He sure didn’t want to upset a woman who could make the lightest fluffiest pancakes he’d ever put in his mouth.

  As he drove toward White-Wing, Rogue made two other phone calls. One to Elijah and one to his mother. After finding out everything was as it should be, he took a deep breath. He had no idea what the future held, but so far he was enjoying the journey.

  * * *

  Kit hadn’t really known what to expect. She’d understood that Dusty Walker had been a wealthy man, but he’d never acted like it except for his generosity. The office in town wasn’t fancy and she’d never been inside his house. A private jet was another matter altogether. “I like this.” She touched the leather of the seats almost reverently.

  “Yea, it’s pretty nice, isn’t it?” Rogue watched Kit lean back in her seat. The swell of her breasts was like a magnet to his eyes. He’d been busy on the trip up studying the files so he’d know what to look for when he got to the courthouse. Then he’d wined and dined Kit at the finest restaurant St. Joseph had to offer, the J C Wyatt house, a restored tour home with more Victorian ambience than Rogue was comfortable with. But that wasn’t the issue. Kit had liked it, in fact, she’d loved it. They’d had pumpkin seed encrusted salmon with bacon and potato hash served with a pumpkin cream sauce. It wasn’t Texas BBQ, but it had made his girl happy and that was all that mattered.

  “It’s amazing.” She looked out the window. “The tops of the clouds look like cotton candy.”

  “You’ve flown before.” He knew she had taken a jet back and forth to Texas several times.

  “Yea, but I was always squished in between two people or on the aisle seat. This is entirely different.” She sounded almost giddy as she stared out into the wild blue yonder.

  “Okay, if that’s how you want to spend your time.” Rogue sighed. “Oh, well.”

  Almost immediately, Kit swiveled in her seat, her long hair swinging over her shoulder. “What else did you have in mind?”

  He gave her a seductive grin. “I told the attendant we didn’t want to be disturbed. And there’s a couch behind us that looks really comfortable.” The dreamy sensual look that came over Kit’s face stroked his ego almost as well as her delicate hands had stroked his cock the last time they were together.

  Unbuckling her safety belt, she rose to her feet and started undressing. “Doing it on an airplane is definitely on my list.”

  Rogue rose and began taking off his belt, then unbuttoning his shirt. He was mesmerized by the sight of Kit disrobing. She had lost most of her shyness with him, but it still turned him inside out when she would glance back over her shoulder and look at him through those long lashes, her pink tongue darting out to moisten her lips. “What else is on your list?”

  Kit slipped out of her skirt and pulled her blouse over her head, leaving her in nothing but panties and a bra—a new purchase especially designed to drive one Rogue Walker around the bend. “All kinds of places and positions.”

  Rogue’s eyes practically bugged at the sight of the tiny cream colored scraps of lace lovingly cupping her ass and tits. “Damn, baby.” Coming up behind her, he gently pulled on a lock of her hair, winding it around his finger. He found he loved touching her, needing the connection. “You’ll have to let me read it.”

  Kit couldn’t help but laugh. “When I was writing it down, I made myself think of a child making a Christmas wish-list.” Slipping off her heels, she faced him and once more she was almost knocked off balance by how incredibly sexy this man was.

  “Rest easy, in my book you get extra points for being on the naughty list.”

  For a big man, he was graceful. Kit stared while he tugged off his jeans. “You know, if we had music, you could dance. Magic Mike has nothing on you.” To her surprise, he spun around and finished with a hip thrust that made her clit throb. “Be still my heart.” She teased him by placing her hand on her chest, then opening her front-clasp bra. There was no doubt about it, she loved to be with him. Kit couldn’t imagine him not being a part of her life. A small voice in the back of her mind whispered that she was going to get hurt, there wasn’t really any way around it. Was it worth it?

  Hell yeah.

  “You do know how to fire me up,” he growled as he took her a
rm, tugged her close and melded his lips to hers.

  The man kissed like a dream. Kit gave herself over to him, not wanting to think. She only wanted to feel. Rogue slid his hands down her arms and clasped her wrists. He was taking charge. Elation sparked in her veins, causing her blood to flow hot. Since she couldn’t move her hands, she rubbed her tits back and forth across his chest, the nipples catching in the manly curls.

  “God, what you do to me,” he murmured, picking her up and laying her back on the couch. Before she could bat an eye, he ran a hungry hand up her leg and parted her thighs.

  The plane hit a bit of turbulence and her breath hitched, but it wasn’t because of the dip and sway of the jet riding the air currents. That’s not what excited her. It was the man kneeling at her feet. With a hot hooded gaze, he bent his head to her pussy, licking and nibbling, flattening his tongue and passing it across the hard nub of her clit.

  Slapping the leather of the couch, she moaned at the instantaneous bolt of pleasure. “Rogue, please…” She didn’t know what she was begging for, but it certainly wasn’t for him to stop.

  Rogue didn’t stop. Using his hands, he opened her wider and feasted on her like she was a banquet to a starving man. Kit whimpered loudly. There was nothing delicate about the way he ate at her. He did it with relish. No hesitation, no half-hearted effort. He knew exactly what he was doing and precisely how to please her.

  She rose up, needing to see, needing the connection. Placing a hand on his head, massaging the scalp, she wordlessly let him know what this meant to her. At her touch, he looked up – never stopping, just holding her gaze. Shivers of excitement encompassed her. He was almost more than she could handle.

  “Do what you did yesterday. Play with your tits for me,” Rogue whispered as he planted a kiss above her mound.

  Last time it had been dark, she hadn’t been sure he was watching or could see that well. Now, he was here—right here. She blushed. Her breasts were so sensitive and when she masturbated, they were where she began and where she ended. Trembling, she did as he asked. With lazy motions, she circled her breasts – rubbing, caressing. Then, she cupped them, kneading and shaping, molding them between her fingers. He watched, his tongue busy on her clit.