Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker

by Alexander, Randi

  “Yeah. I’ll teach you what you need to know. But not this morning.” She pointed toward the back of the building. “I’ve got a few projects I need to finish.” She started walking that way. “Let me show you the work area in the back and the storage area in the basement.”

  He nodded and followed her into the back room, past the tables bearing the bits and pieces of unfinished computers, laptops, tablets, and a dozen boxes with cables and plug-ins that he had no clue about. She opened a wide door and headed down the steps.

  He followed, although it sounded like a hell of a lot of boring awaiting him down there. He’d go along, seeing as he owned this building. And he had some important information to get out of her. “So, your family?”

  At the bottom of the steps, she faced him. “Just Mom and Dad. They’re high school teachers in KC, and spend the summer traveling.” Her gaze didn’t leave his. “Why do you want to know about them?”

  How did he handle this…without asking for a paternity test? “Just curious.”

  It took her a few seconds to process that before she gave him a blessedly brief tour of the rows of racks holding electronics, and explained the temperature and humidity control system she’d installed.

  “Impressive.” He followed her back upstairs, resolutely keeping his eyes off her derriere. Back on the ground level, he pointed to the ceiling. “What’s upstairs?”

  “Living quarters.” She glanced away. “Mine.”

  She lived and worked here. Dedication, for sure. He’d bet any money that if he drove through town at midnight on any random night, he’d see the lights on and her bent over one of the tables. “Let’s see it.”

  She wrinkled her brow at him. “Why?”

  He laughed. “Darlin’, if you want to go on ahead and straighten the place up a bit first, that’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not messy...” She groaned. “It’s just…it’s my private space.”

  “I understand that, but I’d like to take a quick look at the setup.” And search for clues about her father. He leaned forward, his mouth quirking up a bit. “You’re not hiding anything up there, are you?”

  She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath. “Besides nuclear weapons and a kilo of cocaine? No.” Spinning on the rubber-soled heel of her red high-tops, she trudged past a small coffee area, set up for guests, he’d bet, and opened the door to a flight of stairs. He followed her up to a bright, sunny space. The blue couch and two matching chairs sat around a low table holding a few game controllers, all facing a big-ass television. An impressive array of game consoles resided on the shelves under the TV.

  He opened his mouth to make an obvious comment, then snapped it shut and looked at her.

  Her face looked shuttered, closed down, as if she was embarrassed that anyone saw her hobby.

  Jackson didn’t spot any photos sitting around, so he walked past the couch and into the small kitchen. “This is nice.” He enjoyed cooking some, a talent his mother shared with him from an early age. “This gas stovetop is state of the art.”

  “Um. Sure.” She walked up to it. “Never been used.” She grinned. “But I’ve gone through three microwaves in two years.”

  He laughed. “I’ll have to cook you up my…” He shook his head. First things first. “Show me the rest?”

  She blinked a few times, then turned and wandered toward the back of the building. “Bathroom.” She pointed toward the left. “Bedroom.” Her finger moved toward the right.

  Jackson peeked his head into the bathroom. Tub, separate shower, and all the rest. He strode right into her bedroom and glanced at the bare walls, then looked at the top of the dresser. There it was. A photo of Rori in a cap and gown, her parents on either side of her. Pointing to the picture, he glanced at her. “May I?”

  She nodded slowly. “Okay.” Her voice rose on the last syllable. She was confused, but he wasn’t about to explain.

  Picking up the eight-by-ten frame, he walked past the yellow-quilted bed to the window and held the photo in the sunlight. Her mother’s brown hair and brown eyes, then her father’s… Jackson breathed a sigh of relief. Her father had a full head of black hair, and eyes the color of the noon sky. “Nice family.”

  “Wait.” She stomped toward him. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Her eyes shot blue lasers at him.

  His brows shot up and he considered backing away from the shitstorm headed his way. “What?”

  She grabbed the picture from him, staring him down. “You thought I was one of Dusty’s…” Breathing fast, she shook her head. “You thought…” She backed away a step and set the photo on the dresser, face down.

  He hung his head, not that he was ashamed…much…but it was a trick that always worked with his mom. “Can you blame me?”

  “Damn it.” She leaned against the end of the bed. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Darlin’, I owe you an apology.” He faced her head-on. “But if you’d lived in my boots for the last few weeks, you’d be looking for more of Dusty’s surprises in the faces of folks you met, too.”

  Her fingers played with the cotton bedspread. “Especially here in town, right?” She looked up at him, her eyes blue and sad.

  All he wanted to do was tug her into his arms, kiss away the sadness and leap with her in his arms onto the mattress. But he knew it wasn’t the moment. Taking her arm, he gestured toward the main room. “Breakfast?”

  She had to know he was changing the subject, but she went along willingly. “Breakfast and business talk, right?”

  “Right.” He followed her down the steps and out through the front of the building.

  She locked up.

  “Security?” He looked for wires or boxes or cameras, but saw none.

  “The best.” Turning, she ended up just inches in front of him. “Just try to get to my bedroom again, cowboy.”

  He leaned a fraction closer and smirked. “Is that a challenge?”

  Her eyes widened as the double-meaning of her words struck her. When her cheeks turned pink, he took pity on her, placed his hand on her back, and led her across the street to the town’s restaurant. Challenge accepted.

  ****

  Rori sat on the opposite side of the booth from Jackson as a parade of townsfolk stopped by to pay their respects and welcome him to Red Creek. Women boldly flirted with him, and some people actually asked for his autograph. Evidently, he was some big hoo-ga-doo in the rodeo world.

  Which served as a good reminder to her to stay the heck out of situations where she’d be alone with him. Like, for instance, in his office teaching him “computering,” as he’d so colloquially put it. She’d like to take back that agreement, but working with his company was her primary job.

  Cubby’s wife, Sherry, stopped at their table and refilled their coffee cups as the last gawker shook Jackson’s hand and wandered away. “Met your brother Dylan last week, you know.” The older woman stared at Jackson for a few seconds. “You look a lot alike. ‘Cept he has green eyes. Lighter-colored hair.”

  After a pause, Jackson lifted his hand toward the woman. “Jackson Walker.”

  Sherry set down the coffee pot and grasped his hand. “Sherry. My husband and I own this place.” She picked up the pot again. “So what’s all this talk about Dylan and Zoe Chapman? Is it true?”

  Jackson blinked a few times. “Uh, I don’t know. Haven’t communicated with Dylan.”

  Rori frowned at Sherry, who nodded her understanding. Jackson could barely cope with his new family situation. And if the rumor Abby had just shared that morning was true, Jackson sure as heck didn’t need to find out about another family member.

  Sherry swung her gaze back to Jackson. “You plannin’ on staying?”

  With a glance at Rori, he smiled up at Sherry. “For at least five more days.”

  Sherry snorted and walked away. “Full of that same Walker B.S., that’s for sure.”

  He coughed out a laugh. “Where do you go in this town for privacy?”

  Thei
r breakfasts arrived, and Jackson buttered his stack of pancakes. The side plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and ham sat between them, and he gestured for her to help herself.

  The smell of the bacon sent her mouth watering like crazy, but she sipped her coffee and stirred her bowl of fruit, granola, and yogurt. Sitting all day didn’t allow room for fried pork in her diet, not if she didn’t want to spread out like a melting snowman.

  “There’s nowhere that people aren’t watching you. It’s like living in a fishbowl.” She didn’t know why she said that. She liked Red Creek, mostly, but her love life had taken a direct hit in the two years since she’d moved here. Red Creekians liked to make everything their business, and she didn’t want her business to suffer because of gossip.

  Shoving a pie-shaped stack of three pancakes into his mouth, Jackson groaned.

  Her stomach rumbled, and she scooped a big spoon of her sorry breakfast into her mouth. Maybe if she jogged more? Bought a treadmill? Did yoga?

  “Is that all you’re having?” Jackson gestured with his coffee cup toward her bowl.

  “I usually skip breakfast.” She poked at a strawberry hiding in yogurt.

  “Most important meal of the day?” He went back to cutting his pancakes. “Why’s that?”

  She shrugged. “Most days, I don’t get out of bed until later.”

  He smiled. “I like hearing that.”

  A wave of desire roared through her. “It’s because I stay up until near dawn working.”

  “Ah, a night owl.”

  “Whoo, me?” She batted her eyes at him.

  He laughed, a slow, low rumble that tingled into her ears and made her ridiculously happy.

  Sherry came back with her coffee pot. “Your food okay?”

  “Great.” Jackson’s gaze never left Rori. “Thanks.” He crunched into a piece of bacon.

  The waitress hummed for a second, then moved on.

  Rori stuck her spoon into the unappealing breakfast and shoved the bowl to the side. “Should we talk about the contract while we have a few minutes between admirers?”

  “Sure, you start.”

  “First…” She took a second to gather her points. “The contract is with the company, not Dusty personally.”

  “Makes sense.” He cut a sausage in half and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly as he watched her.

  “Then, there’s the fact that I’m still needed. The company is going to continue its work.” For at least another year, if what Dusty’s attorney told her was true.

  “Good enough for me. I see no reason to make any changes.” He poured more syrup on the cakes then reached across the table and picked up her fork. “If Dad negotiated it for the company, even though he’s gone now…” He stuck her fork in the short stack, cut a wedge of pancake, and held the dripping mess out for her to take. “I’d bet my best boots it’s a valid contract.”

  The smell of real maple syrup mixing with the carb scent of the pancakes weakened her beyond redemption. Grabbing the fork from him, she shoved the whole pile into her mouth and chewed. Bliss floated inside her mouth and mellowed all the way down to her soul.

  He pushed the plate of cakes closer to her and spread more of the whipped butter on the top layer.

  Rori should talk to Jackson about her expansion ideas now that he was all…buttered up, but it could wait until they weren’t in such a public place. Giving up all pretenses of interest in her own breakfast, she dug into the pancakes, eggs, and breakfast meats. Damn him for making her run five extra miles today.

  Her phone beeped and she pulled it from her pocket. “Sorry, my customer is at the shop early.” She reached into her back pocket, but he held up a hand. “My treat.”

  “Thanks.” She stood and he wrapped his big, calloused hand around her wrist.

  “Sorry about the…photo thing earlier.” His blue eyes softened. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

  Rori nodded, letting the warmth of his touch slide along her bloodstream like a river of lava. “I understand. And sorry for…” She glanced around, seeing every eye in the place on them. “My overreaction.” Whispering the words, she slid her arm out of his grasp.

  “Not a problem.” His hand went right to his coffee cup. “So I’ll see you this afternoon?”

  “What?” How was she so easily distracted by this cowboy’s touch?

  “Computering lessons?” His lips curved up into a delicious smile. “You are free this afternoon, correct?”

  It shouldn’t be a problem, the two of them in the office with the other employees present. “Sure. I’ll call before—”

  “No need.” He leaned closer to her as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “I’ll be there reading through files. But…” His brows drew down. “You may have to wake me up.”

  The giggle that escaped her throat sounded louder than church bells as they echoed through the restaurant. Damn. She tucked her head down and bee-lined it to the door. What the heck was wrong with her?

  Chapter Three

  Jackson got the hell out of Cubby’s before more of the town came by to introduce themselves. As he walked the few yards to the office, he replayed his conversation with Rori. She wanted to open another Cyber Wise in KC? Did that mean she’d be leaving town?

  He pushed open the door to D. Walker Mineral Co. and stepped inside. Elaine Dennis, one of the oil and mineral specialists, stood talking with Abby.

  “Morning, boss.” Her pretty face bore little makeup, and for a woman old enough to be his mother, she had few wrinkles, and even fewer grays in her brown hair. “I saw you met Ms. Rori.”

  “I did.” He leaned against the tall reception desk, his elbow on the counter. “She wanted to check on her contract with us.” Jackson should probably have okayed it with Elaine, Vic, or the other specialist, Walt, but that bronc had already left the chute.

  “Everything taken care of?” Elaine and Abby watched him.

  “It is. She’s coming in this afternoon to help me with Dad’s computer.”

  Abby puckered her face up. “Is something wrong with it?”

  “Nope.” He held back a smile. “But I want her help so as to make sure it stays that way once I get my paws on it.”

  The women laughed and Elaine wandered away. “I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

  “Thanks.” He waited a few seconds then bent closer to Abby. “What’s the story on Ms. Hughes?”

  Abby’s green eyes perked up. “Well, it’s Miss, never married, doesn’t date much at all, and is one of the smartest people you’ll ever meet.”

  He knew she was smart. “Doesn’t date much?”

  She shook her head. “Not that she doesn’t get asked. I heard one time, three bachelor farmers ended up at her store at the exact same time when she opened Monday morning.” She glanced around, then up into his eyes with a grin. “Guess they got to talking about her at Saturday night poker, and ended up all scratchin’ at her door at once.” Abby laughed. “Can you just picture it?”

  “Yeah.” He strolled past her desk. “I sure can.” Rori was one special woman, and he wanted to explore every single one of her secrets.

  Hours later, after staring at graphs and charts and reports from the company’s professional geologist, who had an office in the building, but was on jobsites most every day, Jackson needed air. He knocked on Vic’s open office door. “You wanna grab something to eat?”

  “Sure.” The guy picked up his cell phone and came around his desk. “It’ll just be us. Elaine’s got a lunch meeting.” They walked down the hall. “Walt was supposed to be back today, but he’s stuck in Arkansas waiting for some geo tests to come back before offering them a contract.”

  Abby sat at her desk eating potato chips, a spreadsheet open on her computer.

  “And Ms. Abby, here, works through lunch, so she can get home to her honey.” Vic smiled at the receptionist, his appreciation of the woman clear in his expression.

  “Jackson hasn’t met my honey yet, so he doesn’t
know what a lucky lady I am to have him a waitin’ on me to come home at night.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  Jackson laughed. “Sounds like you’ve got it made.”

  “Juuuust the right amount of separation to make a marriage work.” Abby went back to her computer.

  Vic held open the door and the two of them walked outside. “She’s a good worker, a strong woman.”

  “You’ve only been here a few months?” Jackson held open the door to Cubby’s, their only choice for lunch.

  “Yes, and despite that, I felt like part of the family.” Vic looked up at Jackson. “Still do, if you’ll pardon my familiarity.”

  “Not at all.” Jackson wasn’t sure what the guy meant, but there was no way he’d make Vic feel his job was at risk. Especially from Jackson, who was impatient to shake the dust of this town off his boots come Sunday morning.

  They took a table in a corner and ordered the special: a meatloaf sandwich with gravy and mashed potatoes, green beans, and a home-baked roll.

  “What made you come to Red Creek?” Jackson took a cold gulp of his strong sweet tea.

  “A couple things.” Vic narrowed his dark eyes. “I got tired of California, and the Walker Company has one of the best reputations in the business.”

  Jackson hadn’t been aware of the company’s status in the industry. The hours he’d spent with Elaine and Abby the day before had filled him in on what was going on with the company, but besides the way the women spoke highly of his father, they didn’t go into much detail. “He’s done pretty well financially.”

  “That, and his honesty, integrity, business sense…” Vic shrugged. “I would tell you that it’ll be a pretty big hat to fill, but I get the feeling you’re not planning on filling Dusty’s hat.”

  At that last part, the wind went out of Jackson’s sails. He’d been questioning the honesty/integrity piece, recalling the illegitimacy of the sons of Dusty Walker. “How do you figure that?” Vic was right about Jackson’s future plans, of course, but he’d tried to keep that fact hidden.

  Their lunches arrived, and Vic got busy turning his sandwich black with pepper from the shaker. “Just a hunch.” He gestured out the window. “This town doesn’t hold much appeal for a young guy like you.”