Rori and Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker

Rori and Jackson: The Sons of Dusty
Walker, Book 6

by

Randi
Alexander

“RORI AND JACKSON: THE SONS OF DUSTY WALKER,
BOOK 6”
Copyright © 2015 Randi Alexander
*~*~*~*
Edited by E Felder
*~*~*~*
Cover by Diana Carlisle
*~*~*~*
Cover Model Scott Nova
*~*~*~*

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and
incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like
to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for
each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was
not purchased for your use only, then please return to place of purchase and
purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval
system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be
printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the web -without permission in writing
from the author.

Special thanks to
Jackson Young for inspiring the hero of this story. Jackson
is
a true
hero in my book. Spend some time with him at
Jackson Young Country
and find out
for yourself how much fun it is to be a member of the Rowdy Nation!

*~*~*~*

Jackson Walker knew he was dreaming, but with his
sweetheart, Rori Hughes, snuggled tightly in his arms, and the two of them
cradled warm and cozy in her bed, he couldn’t wake himself.

“You’re just like your father.” Rori stood in the middle
of Main Street, Red Creek, Kansas, her fists on her hips. “You can’t change
DNA, Jackson. You’ll break my heart and you’ll just rationalize it away with
the fact that you’re Dusty Walker’s son.”

Jackson reached over his head to attach his rodeo number
on his back, turned away from Rori, and instantly found himself behind the
wheel of his pickup, flooring the accelerator, squealing tires as he raced away
from her.

He woke with a gasp and opened his eyes. Light from the
streetlamps filtered in around the curtains, casting stripes on the ceiling.

Rori’s sweet patchouli scent drifted up his nostrils but she
didn’t move. Exhausted? They’d made love half the night in their hideaway
apartment on the second floor of her computer store on Main Street, and she’d
fallen deeply asleep just a few hours ago.

Easing his arm from under her, Jackson slid out of bed,
pulled on his briefs, and padded out of the room and across the wood floor to
the small kitchen. As he drew a glass of water from the tap, he stared out the
window. Down the street a ways, the D. Walker Mineral building stood half in
shadow as if hiding itself from him.

His dad. The man had been dead and buried for over a month,
but his legacy lived on. Especially the part where he’d conceived four sons
from four different women—none of them his wife—and had kept the four brothers
from each other.

Now that all four of them had each spent a separate week in
this boringly quiet little town, somehow they’d each decided to stay, at least
most of the time. Some of them had kept interests back home that had to be
dealt with. “Stupid spawn of a deceitful asshole.” Jackson shook his head,
catching himself. No, he had forgiven his father, had sat down and spoken with
his mother, who still loved ol’ dead-and-gone Dusty as if he were her main
reason for breathing.

Drinking his water, he let it cool his anger. That dream,
though. So real, it had to mean something. Jackson wandered into the living
room and checked the time on one of Rori’s many gaming consoles. Nearly four in
the morning. Was he subliminally picking up uncertainty from Rori? Hell, he
could barely keep track of his own thought processes, much less sense anything
from anyone else.

He sat on the arm of a heavy recliner and stared at the
blank TV. The rodeo reference in the dream disturbed him. Rori had been okay
with his travel schedule when he’d told her he wanted to hit a few hot rodeos
this fall. How come, in his dream, it felt like he was abandoning her?

Hell, the whole concept confused him. This was the first
time in his life he’d even considered settling down. How did he know if it was
real love, or if Rori just happened to come into his world when he needed
someone? The thought of walking away from her, though, nearly broke him.

“Hey, cowboy.” Her sexy, low voice preceded the padding of
her bare feet across the floor. “Are you looking for a rematch?” She stepped in
front of him, and her functional blue cotton robe flapped open as she reached
for the game controller, revealing her curvy, nude beauty.

Jackson set down his glass and pulled Rori onto his lap,
dropping them both into the big chair. “You know I’m a lover, not a paid
assassin fighter.”

Rori giggled, her shoulder-length black hair swinging wildly
as she settled in, her blue eyes glowing. “I appreciate that you tried it,
though. For me.”

“Anything.” Something choked the word in his throat a bit as
he stared at his amazing woman. “Anything for you, darlin’.” His fingers found
the tight, red bud at the tip of her breast that gave them both so damn much
pleasure.

As she sighed, the memory of his dream assaulted him again.
He had to get his shit together. Rori was the best thing that’d ever happened
in his life, and he would make this work if it took every last ounce of his
strength to do it.

****

The week the four brothers agreed to spend together in Red
Creek had already begun to scrape heavily on Jackson’s nerves by noon the first
day. They sat in the company’s small conference room with their attorney,
Stanley Benner, Esquire, and jawed on about each little detail of the company.
Everyone had his own idea of how to distribute Dusty Walker’s duties as owner
and CEO, but none of the brothers was interested in the traveling portion. Not
when they each had a honey living and loving right here in town.

Traveling had been their dad’s thing. Hopping from one
family to the next around the four compass points of the US. Now, here the four
of them were, settled down like they’d been born and raised in Red Creek,
Kansas, and had never wanted to set foot outside it.

After some arguing that required mediation from the
attorney, to make everything fair, they distributed the crucial trips between
the four of them, and handed off the others to the company’s very qualified
employees.

A couple of days in, Jackson looked at the clock for the
seventieth time. Only five past ten and the lawyer had only gotten through a
tenth of the files stacked in front of him. This might just kill Jackson, and
his brothers, too. They’d been on edge, squabbling some, and were not feeling
that brotherly love at all.

Dylan stared at a spot on the wall behind Jackson. His baby
brother had to be experiencing the same exhaustion he was. Killian drew small
squares on a paper in front of him as if he was feeling boxed in, and Rogue
just stared down at his lap. Was the guy texting or—more likely—playing poker
at some online site?

Jackson waited until Benner finished speaking and closed the
folder he’d been reading from. When the man reached for another file, Jackson
stood.

Four heads swiveled to look up at him, three of them nearly
mirror images of Jackson, except for hair and eye color.

“Mr. Benner, I think me and my brothers here, have gotten
enough information for the time being.”

A slow grin spread across Dylan’s face.

Jackson hitched his thumbs in his front pockets. “I’m
feeling like it’s time we four had a sit-down to discuss everything before we
try to take in any more.”

Killian clicked his pen closed and set it down. “For the
first time all day, I think I agree with Jackson.”

Across the table, Rogue glanced at each of his brothers,
then stood. “I’m in favor of a break.”

“But, gentlemen.” The attorney set his pudgy hand on the
stack of files he hadn’t gone over yet. “We only have a week, and there’s at
least—”

“All in favor?” Dylan got to his feet.

“Yo.”

“Aye.”

“Damned right,” Rogue stepped to the door and pulled it
open, gesturing for his siblings to precede him. “Gentlemen.” He said the word
with more than a little sarcasm.

With Benner’s voice echoing a question about when they would
return, the four of them made it out onto the sidewalk in front of the building
in seconds.

The sun warmed Jackson as they strode through the company
parking lot, splitting off into different directions toward their vehicles.
Warm but not too hot, with a soft breeze blowing a few puffy clouds around, he
got a vision of exactly what they needed to do. “Fishing.”

“Huh?” Dylan pulled car keys from his pocket as Rogue and
Killian stopped and looked at Jackson.

“Let’s go fishing.” Jackson warmed to the idea. “Meet at the
dock in front of Dad’s house in half an hour, and we’ll take the boat out. Wet
a line.” It’d give them a chance to get to know each other outside of the office.
With each of them staying with their woman at night, the only time the brothers
were together was at D. Walker Mineral Co. And things weren’t going well there
at the moment.

Dylan spun back to face them. “Yeah, why the hell not? We
can talk about all this crap there as well as anywhere.”

Killian narrowed his gaze. “You know what you’re doin’ out
on a boat? I mean, for any of these boys who don’t have the skills to land a
fish?”

With a loud laugh, Rogue shook his head. “Which means, our
brother Killian is gonna need you to bait his hook.”

Killian pointed a finger at his brother. “Rogue, sounds like
we’re gonna have to have us a contest. Biggest fish wins.”

Dylan stepped forward. “I’m in. But it’ll be hot out on the
lake today, supposed to get up into the 90’s.” He looked down at his jeans and
boots. “I don’t have swimming trunks and shit.”

Jackson looked down the line of buildings set like railroad
cars along the street. “I’ve never been in the clothes store.” He’d walked by
it a dozen times, but clothes shopping for him took place at a boot and saddle
shop. “We can try there, see what they have.”

Rogue shrugged. “Better than sweating to death in denim.”

The brothers crossed the street and headed for Plinees
Fashions. Jackson opened the glass door, setting a tinny bell ringing overhead,
and blasting him with cool air. The term
fashions
was probably a
mislabel. Racks of serviceable T-shirts, polyester pants, and a few women’s
blouses filled the area.

“Ah…” Killian stopped and looked around. “You sure this isn’t
a chick store?”

A petite blonde who had to still be in high school came from
the back room carrying a handful of hangers. She stopped and looked at the
brothers, her eyes opening wide as her cheeks turned bright red. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Dylan poured more charm into that one word than
Jackson could muster with a paragraph. “Y’all have men’s clothes here?”

Her gaze shot back and forth between all four of them for a
few seconds. Red Creek was a small town, and everybody made everybody else’s
business their own. She had to know who they were. Was she startled speechless
to have all four of them right in front of her?

Rogue chuckled and pointed left. “I think I see a sign back
there.”

She glanced that way, then back at them. “Yes. Yes,
menswear. It’s that way.” She clutched the hangers to her chest and looked
down.

Jackson leaned closer to Killian. “You figure she’d faint if
we asked her to help with sizes?”

The brothers marched toward the sign and found a surprising
selection of shorts and swim trunks. They each quickly chose one, grabbed
rubbery sandals from a display rack, and headed to the checkout counter.

The young employee stood texting manically, then set the
phone down at their approach. “Did you find what you were looking for?” She
managed a smile.

“We sure did.” Killian set his items on the counter. “My
treat, boys.” He pulled out his wallet and chose a credit card.

“I’ll take you up on that.” Jackson set his plaid trunks and
blue flip-flops on the counter.

Dylan set down his, too. “Bet that’s the first time that
wallet has been opened in a long time.”

“Watch your manners, young gun.” Killian gave the kid a
glare, followed by a smile.

Jackson was starting to like having brothers. Even the
teasing was growing on him, the almost mystical bro connection that seemed to
put them all of a same mind at times.

Halfway through the ringing-up process, the bell on the
front door tinkled and two young women came in, looked at the brothers, then
giggled as they ducked behind a rack of dresses.

Rogue caught Jackson’s eye and winked. “Looks like the place
is doing pretty well.” He glanced at their cashier. “Is it always this busy?”

The girl’s gaze shifted to where the two newcomers giggled
and held up their cameras, evidently taking pictures of the Walker boys.
“Sorry.” She said the words to the men as she shook her head for the benefit of
her friends.

“We’re used to it.” Jackson took the bag from her. “New in
town, I suppose it always raises a little interest.”

She blushed again and gave him a sweet smile. “This town is
dull as dirt most days. It’s good to have a few new faces to…um…” She glanced
at her friends.

“Stalk?” Killian signed the credit card receipt, gave their
cashier a killer smile, and followed as his brothers wandered out.

Not used to being stalked by anyone other than fanatic
groupies, Dylan led the way back to their company’s building.

“Gonna be like that for a while.” Killian slid his
sunglasses on.

Jackson slowed and looked into Rori’s storefront. She was in
there, but had customers. When he caught her glance, he winked.

Looking down at her phone, she typed.

His phone bonged as a text came in. He pulled it from his
pocket and opened her message.

You four shouldn’t run in a pack. You’re going to get all
the single ladies stirred up.

Jackson laughed and his brothers glanced at him.

“Rori. She says we’re a pack now. Out stirrin’ up the
females.”

His three brothers grinned and puffed out their chests,
changing their fast walks to manly swaggers. Jackson joined the fun and they
strolled across the street. True to Rori’s warning, people—mostly women—stopped
to stare.

“Watch out, Red Creek.” Jackson grabbed his truck keys from
his pocket. “The Walker boys are here to stay.”

His brothers laughed but Jackson turned somber. He hoped
like hell that was true.