Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker

Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker,
Book 2

by

Randi
Alexander

“JACKSON: THE SONS OF DUSTY WALKER, BOOK 2”
Copyright © 2015 Randi Alexander
*~*~*~*
Edited by E Felder
*~*~*~*
Cover by Diana Carlisle
*~*~*~*
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!
*~*~*~*

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.

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
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from the author.

The attorney for the late Dusty Walker leaned over his desk
and set a folder of papers in front of each of the four young men who sat like
a row of penguins in their dark suits and white shirts.

Jackson Walker, one of the four, adjusted the gray tie his
mother had strongly suggested he wear. Shock had him speechless—for the first
time in his life.

The lawyer’s gaze rested on each face. Was he taking in
their similarities? Even though the four brothers had never laid eyes on each
other until five minutes ago, they sat silently, letting the man have his fill
of staring.

His three half-brothers had to be as gobsmacked as Jackson
was. He kept his gaze forward, not ready to look at the three faces that proved
his dad had been a rat bastard.

The gray-haired lawyer unbuttoned his suit coat and sat,
pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up on his nose. “Incredible likeness. Your
father never mentioned it.”

Their father, Dusty Walker, hadn’t mentioned a whole hell of
a lot of things, like the fact that he had four sons, each of whom had no idea
there were three more just like him in other parts of the country.

Killian sat forward in his chair. “Are we quadruplets? Were
we separated at birth?”

The attorney shook his head again. “Absolutely not. “Each of
you is your mother’s biological son. You are each about a year apart in age.
Mr. Walker…uh…Killian.”

Jackson almost laughed. Since they were all four
Mr.
Walker
, the man must have realized he needed to take a different approach.

“Killian, you’re the oldest at twenty-seven, and Dylan,
you’re the youngest. It must be a very strong DNA strand in your father to have
produced men who look so similar.”

Besides different eye and hair color, their faces and bodies
could have been stamped from the same mold.

“When I arrived at your homes last week with the news that
your father had died, I was under strict instructions not to mention that you
had brothers. It was among your father’s last wishes that you learn of your
siblings’ existence by bringing you together.” The attorney picked up a sheaf
of papers. “I apologize for bringing you to Kansas under these circumstances.”

Jackson had spent the week since learning of his father’s
death with his mother, then had made use of the first-class flight from the
Pacific Northwest and the limo transportation provided for him by the law firm.
When he’d arrived at the lawyer’s office, he’d been shown into a separate
office until the attorney, Stanley Benner, Esquire, had asked the four of them
to come into his office.

The shock when they’d seen each other kept them all silent,
warily watching each other.

The attorney rattled the papers in his hand. “As I told you,
Dusty and his wife Theresa were killed in an auto accident. We were told they died
instantly.” He looked from one to the other. “So, if there are no more
questions, I’ll begin reading the key points in the will.” He waited a few
seconds, meeting each of their gazes.

“Yeah, I’ve got one.” Rogue looked at his brothers. “How did
he…?” He held up a hand. “Let me rephrase that. Why? Why four families in four
different states?”

The lawyer tossed the papers on the desk and laced his
fingers together. “Your father wanted to have children, and he confided to me
that his wife didn’t want them. This broke his heart.”

“So he went around looking for incubators?” Killian spat
out.

“That’s a little disrespectful.” Benner frowned.

“You’re calling me disrespectful?” Killian made a rude
noise. “I’d say your client is the one who was disrespectful.”

“She knew about all of us?” Dylan held his hands out, palm
up. “His wife, I mean?”

“No, she did not.” Benner’s cheeks turned ruddy. “And I was
sworn to silence under attorney/client privilege. I’m assuming that your
mothers made you aware of your father’s marital situation?”

One of the men cleared his throat, but no one spoke.

Jackson’s father had spent very few weeks with him every
year, and now he—they all—knew why. The man not only had a wife, but four
families. The time his dad did spend with Jackson was dedicated to grooming his
son to one day run the family business; poring over contracts for regional
mineral rights, surveying land, and interpreting tests to determine if the
acreage had value.

Jackson stared at the law degree on the wall, but his mind
spun back ten years to when he’d just turned fifteen and his mother had let
Dusty’s secret escape: Dad had a wife in Kansas. Worse, despite knowing Dusty
was married, Sapphire, Jackson’s mother, was Dusty’s lover, which made Jackson
a… Shaking away the memory, he focused his attention away from Oregon and back
to Kansas.

“So, in the interest of time, I will read the highlights of
the will. The entire document is in the folders I set in front of you.” The
attorney cleared his throat and read for a quarter of an hour. The details
included a grocery list of assets: a mineral and water rights company that
boasted assets near five-hundred million dollars, including a private
ten-person jet, a storefront in the small town of Red Creek, Kansas, as well as
a big house on the outskirts of town.

The brothers sat silent.

“Of course, there are the four houses in four compass points
of the US. In the north, Montana, where Killian resides. Texas, from where
Rogue hails. Dylan, of course, from Nashville, and Jackson, from Oregon.”
Jackson’s gaze flicked to each of his brothers as they glanced at each other,
then back at the lawyer. “These houses are currently company property, but your
father notes that you four, as the new owners of D. Walker Mineral, can opt to
transfer the homes into your mothers’—”

“Hang on.” Dylan stiffened. “You’re saying he left the
company to us?”

“Yes, of course.” Benner looked surprised. “I didn’t read
that portion of the will because I assumed…” He hefted out a sigh. “The company
is now legally in your names, exactly one quarter going to each.”

Dylan let go with a long, low whistle.

Jackson closed his gaping mouth and swallowed. He owned a
fourth of a half-billion dollar company? Hell, he’d always figured Dusty had
plenty of money. Their house, which sat a block from the ocean in Bandon, had
an unobstructed view of the Pacific from the rooftop deck, and stood within
walking distance of his mother’s pottery shop downtown. But half a billion?
Man, what he could do with a fourth of that. “So, if we sell our quarter?”
Jackson said the words slowly, figuring the other three had to be pondering the
same question.

“There are repercussions.” The attorney flipped pages. “Ah,
here. ‘Heretofore, the parties to which—”

“In plain English, please.” Killian put one booted foot on
the opposite knee.

“Of course.” The man set down the papers and leaned back in
his chair, placing one hand on his round belly. “The company is essentially
frozen as-is for a full year. After that time, if one of you wants to sell, the
others have the option of buying you out at half-worth.”

“Half-worth?” Rogue fisted his hand. “Meaning they’d buy me
out at a fifty-percent discount?” The guy looked pissed.

“Yes, that’s correct. Your father wanted to keep the company
in the family. Wanted you four boys to run it together.”

Jackson could wait a year. He had a sizeable savings
account. All he needed was money to get him to rodeos and pay his entry fees.
But hell, no matter what his father wanted, there was no room in his life for
small-town Kansas and an eight-to-five job. He’d be the first to sell his
quarter of the company.

Benner attempted a smile. “However, you are each officially
on the payroll, and your first paychecks will be cut the day you successfully
complete the one…” He swallowed then cleared his throat. “Stipulation in the
will.”

All four of them leaned an inch closer.

“Stipulation?” Dylan prodded.

“To inherit, you must spend a week in Red Creek, working in
your father’s office, learning more about the business, sharing with each other
what you’ve learned from your father over the years. You must also reside for
that week at your father’s house—your house—on Osprey Lake.”

“A week?” Jackson shook his head. He’d be damned if he’d be
forced to work and live with three strangers, even if they were blood
relatives. “What’s the timeframe here? Anytime in the next year?”

Rogue slapped open his folder and pulled out his copy of the
will. “What section is that in?” His words came out clipped.

“Second from the last page. You’ll see that there’s a thirty
day time limit.” The attorney checked his calendar. “Today is August second.
You’ll need to decide which week in August works for all four of you, and plan
to be back here then. Or if this week works…” He shrugged.

Killian tapped his fingertips on his knee. “Dad wants the
four of us to live in the same house and work in the same office? For an entire
week?”

“Like summer camp for the bastard sons of Dusty Walker.”
Dylan mumbled a curse.

Jackson rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. Good. At least
he wasn’t the only one who found this situation bizarre. “What the fuck was he
thinking?”

Rogue kept reading silently.

Benner’s face turned a dark shade of red. “He loved each one
of you, I know that because he took great pains to create provisions to make
sure you were taken care of after his death, as you were while he was alive.”

“Listen here.” Rogue stared at the will. “It says we each
have to spend a week, but it doesn’t say it has to be the same week.”

“No, it…uh…what…?” The attorney sat forward and frantically
flipped through his paperwork.

“I say we each take a week, get this goddamn stipulation out
of the way, and figure out the rest later.” Rogue looked at his brothers.
“Agreed?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Dylan accessed his phone. “I can stay this
week. I got nothin’ goin’ on.”

Jackson grabbed his folder. “I can do the week after.” The
sooner he got this bullshit out of the way, the sooner he could get back to his
real life. A burst of unease gripped him. Rodeo was his real life? Traveling
solo around the country, one-nighters with buckle bunnies, broken bones and
torn ligaments. One hell of a life he’d chosen.

Killian rose. “Sure, I’ll do the third week.”

“That leaves week four for me.” Rogue stood and tucked the
folder under his arm.

“Now wait, boys.” The lawyer stood, still staring at his
copy of the will as Jackson and Dylan got to their feet. “Your father wanted
you all to be here together. At the same time. To get to know one another.”

The brothers stood in a half-circle. Jackson’s gaze dropped
to the belt buckle Killian wore, then to the other two brothers’ belts. The
exact same belt buckle on all four of them. The one given to Jackson by his
father.

“Am I seeing things?” Jackson caught Killian’s surprised
gaze.

Killian looked down at his own waist. “Son of a bitch. I
can’t believe this. They’re all alike.”

“Kinda fucked up, huh?” One side of Dylan’s mouth curved up.
“The old man gave us the same belt buckle, like we’d use them to somehow
magically find each other.”

Jackson wanted to fling the buckle into the nearest lake and
watch it sink. So much for imagining his father thought he was special.
Special, like one of a matched set of four.

The room went silent, then, as if on cue, they all turned
toward the door.

“Wait.” The attorney raced around his desk and stood in
front of the men, his brow wrinkled, his breath coming fast. “Your father’s
wish was to have you spend this time together.” His hands fluttered like he
didn’t know what to do next.

“Well then…” Killian patted Benner’s shoulder as he strode
past him. “I guess he should have had his
lawyer
write that in the
will.”

Jackson bit back a grin. That Killian was a smart-ass, but
thank heavens Rogue had the brains to read the contract and get the four of
them out of the bunking-together clusterfuck. Dylan—he couldn’t read the kid,
but he appreciated how the youngest blurted out whatever came into his head. He
almost wished…naw. Fuck, they were complete strangers. Best to keep it that
way.

The four brothers left the office, walked to their separate
limousines, and left the parking lot.

Then, the fun began.