Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker (4 page)

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?

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.”

Jackson laughed. “You’re what, five years older than me?”

“Ten.” Vic took a big forkful and chewed, swallowing it down
with coke. “But I’m an office kind of guy. You? Rodeo, buckle bunnies, seeing
the country.”

Running away
, as Sapphire had always said when
Jackson had gone out on the circuit. “I guess.”

“You don’t have to sit behind Dusty’s desk for the rest of
your life.” Vic set down his utensils. “You can always travel the country doing
what your dad loved best.”

What Dad loved best? Besides his four mistresses and their
bastard sons? “It’s all up for grabs right now.” He said the words, but they
were a deflection. His brothers could do what they wanted with the company for
the next year. Jackson was looking forward to that big payout come next August.

“I understand.” Vic ate for a while. “Just so you know, your
dad’s done some really good things for this town. The Walker name is highly
respected here.”

“I’m sure it is.” Jackson had heard about his dad bailing
out businesses, but that could have been just self-preservation. If the town
went under, the company wouldn’t have a place to call home.

Elaine walked up to their table. “Mind if I join you? My
lunch meeting just ended.”

The guys stood and Jackson pulled out a chair for her.
“Please do.”

“Oh, such gentlemen. The town of Red Creek is blessed to
have you two bachelors gracing our streets.”

Jackson met Vic’s gaze, sending the man a silent request for
confidentiality.

Vic turned toward Elaine. “So, who did you meet with?”

Tucking back into his meal, Jackson let them talk business
while he considered his options. Dusty’s death threw a whole lot of new ones in
front of him, and he couldn’t overlook the fact that his old way of life would
change no matter how hard he tried to keep it the same.

****

Later that afternoon, Rori stepped into Heart Starter, Lexie
Choate’s quirky coffee shop, glad to see the place was empty.

“Hey, girl.” Lexie had her sketch pad out and was drawing
something. The woman’s artistic talent was insane, and the shop walls were
filled with her artwork.

“Hi. Can I get an iced mocha? Large, please.”

“Sure.” Lexie started the big, scary espresso machine. “Need
to stay awake this evening?”

Rori sat on a stool at the counter. “No. I’m just
procrastinating. I promised Dusty’s son, Jackson, I’d show him how to use the
computer.”

“Oooh. He’s a cute one.” Lexie pulled out another cup. “I’ll
make one for him, too. Keep you both awake this afternoon.”

Cussing under her breath, Rori stuck her tongue out at her
friend. “He’s the rodeo cowboy. You know how I feel about that.”

She shrugged. “Whatever prejudices get you through the day.”

Rori frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Lexi set the chocolate-infused iced coffees in
front of Rori. “I’ll put this on your tab.”

“Thanks.” Rori stood. May as well go and get it over with.
“We need to get Kit and Zoe and do a girls’ night out.”

“Okay. I’m in.”

Rori waited to see if Lexi would mention anything about the
gossip surrounding Zoe, but Lexi just picked up her pad and started drawing,
looking from it to Rori’s face and back again.

“Jeez, you know I hate it when you sketch me.” Rori crossed
her eyes and contorted her lips.

Lexi laughed. “I’m going to paint your portrait that way one
day.”

Rori chuckled and left the store, strolling down the street
to D. Walker Mineral Company and an afternoon of computering and too-closeness
with that dang rodeo cowboy. She walked past the empty reception desk. Abby
worked a seven-to-three shift, and since it was already three-thirty, the woman
would be long gone. Heading down the hall, she looked into the four offices
along the way to Dusty’s…Jackson’s…to find them empty. So much for her plan to
get here early enough to not be alone with the cowboy.

At his office door, she peeked in and found him staring at
papers in an open file folder. She rapped her knuckles softly on the doorframe.
“Am I too late?”

His head jerked up. “To keep me from falling asleep?” He sat
back. “Yeah. It’s happened four times already this afternoon.”

“This’ll help.” She stepped into the room and set the cups
on the desk. “Thought you could use this.” The red cotton shirt she’d changed
into after she’d showered and put on sexier lingerie evidently caught his
attention because his gaze dropped to her cleavage and stayed for a long while.
“I bet you had the Tuesday special at Cubby’s.” She walked around the far side
of the desk and pressed the buttons to turn on the computer and monitor. “His
meatloaf sandwich has put me out cold more than once.”

“Thanks for the coffee.” Jackson stood and offered her his
chair, sipping on the coffee. “That meatloaf and these reports nearly put me
into a coma.”

She slid into the seat, the residual warmth from his body
heating her bottom, sending a sexy shiver along her skin. “Well, this won’t
take too long.” She clicked the mouse a few times.

“Miss Rori, you’re overestimating my skills.” He grabbed a
guest chair and hauled it around the back of the desk and set it next to the
big leather one. “Like, for instance, what did you do to turn these on?” He
sat, picked up a pencil, and held it poised over a small notepad.

“Seriously?” Was he teasing her? The look on his face told
her he was serious.

“My mom has a tablet thing which I’ve used, but all this…”
He gestured to the computer. “It’s been since high school, the last time I used
one. And I don’t want to break anything.

She held back a smile at how solemn he looked, his eyes
intent, his lips thinned into a straight, sexy line. “Okay, sorry.” She went
over the power-up, gave him the login and password she’d set up for him before
heading over here, and showed him the different folders and files, printing out
a sort of map for him and making notes on it in red.

“Good.” Jackson compared the printout to the screen. “I’m
following this.”

She spent another hour showing him Dusty’s private files,
the ones saved to only his computer, which included payroll and banking
information.

He had her open files so he could see details, and as the
evening sun turned everything orangey, he pointed to a folder. “What’s that?”

Dusty had called it
Theresa
.

“That looks like something personal.” She stood and motioned
for them to switch chairs. “If you want to look at it now, I’ll go down the
hall.”

“No.” He sat in the big chair and used the mouse. “Sit. I’ll
take a look.”

She turned her back to him, facing the coatrack in the
corner where Dusty’s old white straw cowboy hat hung next to his denim jacket
with the company logo embroidered on the left chest. Poor Dusty. He didn’t
deserve to die the way he did.

“What the heck is this?” Jackson tapped her arm with the
back of his hand.

She swung around and looked at the columns of numbers and
dates. “I don’t know.” Standing, she leaned over him and looked at the screen.
The first column was dates, a month apart each, which began eight years ago.
“Scroll down.”

He did, a little slower than she’d like, but he was getting
better. The last date was just days before Dusty died. “Huh.”

“Yeah. Strange.” She pointed to the screen. “The second and
third column look suspiciously like bank routing and account numbers. The bank
routing numbers repeat themselves on a regular basis.” She counted. “Every
eighteen months, it’s the same routing number.”

“You’re saying whatever they’re doing, they use just
eighteen banks on a rotating basis.”

She nodded. “What could be the significance of eighteen?”

Jackson snorted. “Knowing Dusty…” He bit off the words. Was
he going to make a snide comment about Dusty and his harem? “So that makes the
fourth column…dollar amounts?” Jackson scrolled back up slowly. “This year it’s
thirteen thousand, and a thousand less every year going back.”

“I have no idea what it is.” She sat in her chair. “I can
pull up a list of Walker Co.’s bank accounts, but I know that’s not Red Creek
Bank’s routing number.”

He looked at her. “Can we search the world wide web for
these banks?”

She bit back a smile. “Most of us call it
the internet
now, and yes, I’ll show you how to do it.”

After a few minutes of trial and error, they found a site
that gave the information.

“These are all over the country.” He scratched his cheek.
“What do you think this is?”

To her, it looked sketchy.

“You’re thinking the same thing I am, right?” He stared into
her eyes. “Some kind of payoff or blackmail or gambling debt?”