Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker Read Online Free PDF Page A

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?”
    Their 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