Killian (The Sons of Dusty Walker Book 3) (2 page)

Benner feigned a tepid 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. “What’s the time frame 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 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 wanted the four of us to live in the same house and work in the same office? For an entire week?” He had things to do and places to go. He saw this windfall as the means to realize a long-held dream, and he wanted to do some investigating.

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

Jackson rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. Good. At least, Killian 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 because he took great pains to create provisions to make sure you were taken care of after his death. Just as he did while he was alive.”

Yeah, real good. The jackass obviously thought money could buy anything and everything, including his kids.

“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?”

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

Jackson grabbed his folder. “I can do the week after. Get this bullshit out of the way.”

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. Killian saw Jackson’s gaze drop suddenly to the belt buckle he wore then the others. The exact same belt buckle on all four of them. The one given to them by their father.

“Am I seeing things?” Jackson asked.

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

“That’s 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 frowned as if he wanted to fling the buckle into the nearest lake and watch it sink.

Killian sympathized. So much for imagining his father thought he was special. Special, like one of a matched set of four.

The room went silent, and, 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.”

He noticed Jackson bite back a grin.

They were complete strangers. Best to keep it that way.

Dylan gave the others a trigger finger salute and headed out the door, the others right behind him.

Killian watched as each of his brothers—half-brothers, you idiot—entered their separate limousines and left the parking lot. He climbed into the one still waiting for him and leaned back, eyes closed, as the vehicle began to move.

Now, the fun begins.

Chapter One

Killian pushed back from his desk where he’d been working all morning and stretched. He’d spent the last two weeks catching up on what he had to do at Hart Brothers Ranch and making sure Larry Hart was okay with him taking off. After all, in a couple more weeks, all this bullshit would be over and he could get on with his life.

“I like to think of you as a friend as well as a hand here,” the man told him. “I’d never stand in the way of you doing something like this. Anyway, my brothers and I know you’ve wanted to have your own place for a long time. While we’ll hate to lose you, if this makes it possible, we wish you well.” Then he clapped Killian on the shoulder. “And we’ll help you any way we can.”

Killian had had to turn away at that, choked up at the kindness of the man.

The money, however much he ended up with, would help him realize his lifelong dream of raising Appaloosas. He’d kept his dream to himself. He hadn’t even told the Hart brothers. But in all the years he’d been working for them, he’d made it his business to learn everything about the company, from buying to breeding to training. Apparently, they knew him better than he thought.

As he got older, he’d brought it up to Dusty when they were together. The man, however, had never seen the value in it, and, after a while, Killian stopped talking to him about it.

Yesterday, the Walker plane had picked him up in Montana. His mother had insisted on driving him to the small airport, where the plane landed, and seeing him off. Things were still unsettled between them, and he didn’t know how he could fix it. He was still hurt she’d kept such vital information from him, and he felt betrayed. The shit with Dusty—he had stopped thinking of him as his father—was bad enough, but he’d always loved and respected his mother. He just couldn’t seem to get past this.

At the moment, he wasn’t feeling too kindly toward either of his parents.

This morning, Lou, the cook, had insisted on feeding him a full breakfast then told him to take whatever ride he wanted from the garage. What an eye-popping experience. After picking up his jaw at the sight of the boat of a Cadillac and a tricked-out Ford F-159 truck, he’d settled on a silver SUV. Less obvious, he hoped. Marliss, the housekeeper, handed him a piece of paper with directions to the office of D. Walker Minerals, and off he went.

When he got there, only two people were in the office. According to the information the attorney had given him, they were Abby Hollister, the receptionist/secretary, and Elaine Dennis, one of the mineral and oil rights specialists. It was obvious they’d been prepared for him.

”Welcome,” Abby said. “We’re glad to meet you.”

“We’ve got Dusty’s office all set up for you,” Elaine told him, urging him toward the office door.

“You’re the king for a week,” Abby teased. “You get to sit where the king does.”

Killian shook his head. He was no king, and he sure didn’t think of Dusty as one.

“Just give me a closet,” he said. “All I need is a desk and a place to set my coffee mug.”

Muttering under her breath, Elaine ushered him into a small office next to hers. He gave a short laugh when he saw it really wasn’t much more than a large closet.

“This is what you asked for,” she pointed out, a smile twitching at her lips.

“Where did my…brothers…work when they were here?” The descriptive word stuck in his mouth like bad whiskey.

Elaine nodded at the tiny office. “You can use this, or…Jackson used Dusty’s office.” She lifted a shoulder and dropped it. “You know, he really wanted you boys to step into his shoes.”

Killian snapped back before he had a chance to think. “We’re not ‘boys,’ and if we had a choice, we’d really have nothing to do with all of this.”

Abby eased back to her desk as the smile disappeared from Elaine’s face.

“I’m sorry you all are making such snap judgments about the man. Maybe while you’re here you can force yourself to find out a little more about him.”

“I doubt it.” He hauled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I need to mind my manners better.”

She studied him for a long moment. “Out of curiosity, if all of you are so angry with Dusty, why did you agree to the terms of the will?”

He thought about it for a moment. “I think none of us wanted to be the one to screw it up for the others.”

She gave a brief nod. “Okay. Well, I’d better get you started here while the place is still quiet.”

Now, after a full morning of studying reports and maps and more shit like that, he needed a break. He lifted his Stetson from the hat tree, clapped it on his head, and walked into the front office.

Abby glanced up from her computer. “Going out?”

“For a minute. Just need to stretch my legs. Maybe get a bite to eat. Where do you all go, anyway? Is there someplace close by?”

Elaine walked out of her tiny office to place a folder on Abby’s desk and chuckled.

“I think I dropped too much stuff on him today,” she teased. “He needs to refill the well.”

“Whatever you’ve got,” Killian said, looking from one to the other, “bring it on. You don’t scare this country boy. So, where’s a good place to eat?”

“You could try Cubby’s Creekside Café right next door,” Elaine suggested. “He’s a cousin to Lou, your cook.”

Killian thought about the breakfast he’d consumed.

“If he’s half as good as Lou, it sounds like a winner. But I think I just want a bite of something. And to walk a little.”

She smiled at him, warming him with its genuineness. According to the information in the folder each of the brothers had received, Elaine had been with Dusty for a long time, longer than either of the two men on staff, and probably knew more about the business of D. Walker Mineral Company than anyone. Her light-brown hair was streaked with touches of silver, but her face was smooth and unlined. He had no idea how old she was. Somewhere between forty and sixty, he guessed. But she was spoon-feeding him the business and made him feel comfortable. He was grateful for that.

“Well, give yourself a look at Red Creek. There’s a great coffee shop down the street you could try, also. It’s called Heart Starter.”

“Yeah?” Killian gave a short laugh. “That’s some name.”

“Lexie’s coffee is indeed that. And her pastries taste from heaven.”

“Lexie?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Lexie Choate. She owns the place.”

Killian stared at Elaine who exchanged a glance with Abby and tried to conceal a smile. “Is there a joke here I don’t know about?”

Abby shook her head. “Not at all. However, if you do stop there and you’re so inclined, I’d love one of her honey buns.”

“Consider it done.”

He walked out the door, wondering if he was walking into yet another trap. His life seemed to be full of them.

It was just after noon, and the sidewalks were busy. Killian glanced into Cubby’s Creekside Café, studying the place through one of the windows. It seemed very homey inside and nearly full. Probably a good place to pick up local gossip. He’d bet a dime today’s was all about him and his brothers. Half-brothers, he reminded himself, and the familiar bitterness washed through him.

Benner had called this morning. He wanted Killian to stop by later today, so he could catch him up on how the first two weeks had gone, but Killian wasn’t even sure he wanted to hear. He wanted out of this disaster as soon as possible. Still, he’d have to talk to the man sooner or later. Might be best to get it over with.

He had made it to the end of the block, in front of Heart Starter. Was her coffee like battery acid, or just strong with a rich flavor? Whatever, he needed something to clear his brain, so he pushed the door open and walked in. A bell tinkled overhead.

“Be right with you,” a voice called.

Killian stopped in his tracks. The voice had the lyrical quality of an angel’s, plucking at his heartstrings as well as other parts of his body. When she rushed out from the back of the shop and he caught sight of her, he was sure he’d need some of the strongest coffee, because his heart stopped. Just. Stopped.

Lexie Choate was his actual dream come true, the best package Killian had ever seen.
Holy shit!
The top of her head just came to below his shoulder, a head full of streaky blonde curls. Gold-flecked hazel eyes surveyed him from beneath a fringe of thick lashes sweeping over creamy cheeks with a light dusting of freckles. She was busily tying a clean apron over a pink T-shirt and skinny jeans and smiling an apology to him with plump, kissable lips.

Kissable?

What the fuck, Killian?
First of all, he wasn’t here in this bumfuck town to have fun. Secondly, with the damnable truth about Dusty and the whole situation, was he even good relationship material anymore? What kind of genes did he carry, anyway? Could he be faithful to one woman? He needed to get his head out of his ass before it got permanently stuck there.

Yeah? The little voice in his head remarked. He should tell that to his cock which was suddenly begging to be let loose to have fun.

“Sorry.” Her voice danced over his skin like a teasing wind. “I got a little tied up in the back.”

At the words “tied up,” Killian’s fingers curled up over his absent length of rope. A picture burst into his mind of the very tasty barista naked except for his rope tied around her in an intricate pattern.

Down, boy!

The bell jingled again, interrupting his erotic reverie. He glanced behind him to see three people walk in. He stepped aside and motioned them to the counter.