Kit & Rogue (The Sons of Dusty Walker) (3 page)

*  *  *

“When will you get back?” Kit hooked her feet behind the legs of the dining table chair, her chin resting on her hand as she lusted after her handsome fiancé who was buttoning his black western shirt.

“Before midnight, I promise.” Rogue grabbed his vest, slipping it on. “If you need me, call - anytime.” He knew there were a few overnight guests at White Wing, the hunting lodge that Kit and her mother owned, but her mother was off visiting friends. A couple of employees and Kit would be holding down the fort for a few days. Since Dave Parker’s attempt on Kit’s life, he hated to let her out of his sight. Her stepfather had only married Kit’s mother to get his hands on some bearer bonds that he knew Will Ross had hidden somewhere on White Wing property. When Kit had gotten in his way, he had lashed out at her, ready to hurt or kill her to get his hands on the money. Automatically, he picked up his handgun, slipping it into the concealed holster at the back of his belt.

“Do you have to carry that gun, Rogue? Do you think it’s necessary?”

Her voice wasn’t argumentative. She was just asking a reasonable question that she needed an answer to. “I’ve been carrying it for several years. Kansas recognizes a valid Texas concealed handgun permit. When you’re out in the brush as much as I am in rattlesnake country, you appreciate it. Besides, I might have to rescue some damsel in distress.”

She gave him a sexy smirk. “As long as that damsel is me, I guess it’s okay. Just don’t fool around and shoot yourself.”

“I’m a crack shot, sweetie.” He studied her beautiful face. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can cancel this outing if you need me to stay with you.”

“I told you for the tenth time, I’ll be fine. I’m just bushed, working those new horses really took a lot out of me today. They’re all fine stock, but they’re not as good as Rogue-Angel. I’d give anything for one of his colts.” Her wishful observation gave Rogue an idea and he mentally filed it away for later.

“Okay, I just have to make sure my baby is good. You’re my responsibility now,” he assured her.

“I’m perfectly fine.” Her contented smile gave Rogue a sense of peace. She was happy. The money from the bearer bonds that her father left her had gone a long way to alleviate the financial problems of renovating White Wing and paying off the money her step-father had borrowed against their land. Now, she could concentrate on training her roping horses and helping out her mom with White Wing. No more financial troubles. “You go and have a good time, just come home horny.”

Rogue threw his head back and laughed, catching Kit to him. “No question about that, all I have to do is think of you and I have to hold my hat in front of my crotch.”

Kit eyed his sizeable package. “You might need to invest in a ten-gallon hat.” At Rogue’s smirk, she sighed. Life was good. “Do you have a pair of swimming trunks to take on the cruise? We leave Friday night. I can make a trip into town if you don’t.”

“Nope, got it covered. I picked up a pair before our fishing trip the other day.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I even bought a pair of sandals. I’m ready for this trip. All I need is a pair of sunglasses and I’ll be ready to sail in style. If we get stranded on some deserted island, at least I’ll be dressed the part,” he teased.

Kit shivered. “Don’t say that. I’ve seen that movie with Tom Hanks. I don’t want to be a castaway.” Actually, she had several reservations about this trip. Heck, she didn’t even like the water. What had she been thinking?

Oh, yeah.

She wanted to elope and Vegas seemed so overdone. Besides, as he’d mentioned, Rogue had told her more than once that he regretted never taking the time to go on a cruise. Oh well, she’d make it. Not too many cruise liners sank every year. Did they?

“See you later, baby. Be waiting for me. Naked,” he whispered playfully.

“You got it, Cowboy. Don’t win all of your brother’s money,” she warned, knowing he was a highly skilled card player.

“Candy from a baby,” he yelled over his shoulder. Hearing her small noise of protest, he laughed. “Teasing, Kit-Kat. I love you.”

The drive from White Wing into Red Creek didn’t take long, about fifteen minutes. He passed the small shops, seeing the lights and fall decorations. He’d never been much for holidays, but fall was undeniably his favorite time of the year. A grin came out of nowhere. Next year they’d have a baby. Soon he’d be taking the little tyke trick-or-treating. That would be fun.

When he pulled up to the small saloon, he could see his brother’s vehicles already parked out front. This wasn’t a rowdy place, Red Creek was a friendly town. The saloon was the only place still open at this hour other than the diner. He’d been in the establishment once or twice, enough to know they served good beer and encouraged their customers to play pool, darts, cards or dance. In other words, Rogue would feel right at home.

Exiting his truck, he could hear live music coming from the swinging front doors as customers went in and out. His goal for tonight was to connect with the other Walker boys, and cement their relationship so they could learn to trust one another.

As he pushed the hanging doors open and entered, a short bowlegged man stopped him. “Hold on there, fella.” The slightly inebriated cowboy stared at him. “I need glasses, Pete! Here’s another one!” he announced to the balding man standing next to him. “I’m not just seeing double. Or triple! There’s four of them rascals.” He rubbed his eyes. “Are you fellows real or did I drink too many Miller lights?”

Rogue patted the poor fellow on the shoulder. “No, you’re not hallucinating. There’s four of us.” At the man’s puzzled expression, he laughed. “Believe me, I understand. It surprised me too.”

“Hey, Rogue! Over here.” Killian called from across the room. “We’ve already set you up a tab.”

He waved at his brothers, stopping to speak to a few folks he’d recently met along the way. Word of their arrival in Red Creek and the circumstances concerning Dusty’s death had given some people a lot to talk about. Shaking his head, Rogue continued on his way, accepting a beer from a passing waitress. He and his mother were used to gossip. Having an absentee father who isn’t married to your mother provides fodder to those who love to mind other people’s business. 

“Hope you brought a lot of money, high-roller.” Jackson tipped back a mug and drained it of its amber contents.

“I’m ready for the likes of you amateurs.” Rogue pulled out his chair and sat down heavily, more tired than he realized. Dylan shook his hand, but his eyes kept darting to the band performing on the small stage to the left. “You ought to get up there and play with those fellas.”

Dylan drummed his fingers on the table in time to the music. “I don’t know, maybe. I’m not sure if they’d want me to join in.”

“Shoot, they’d be honored. Has anyone recognized you yet?” Rogue asked Dylan, noticing several young women watching them closely. “I bet you have fans here.”

Shaking his head, Dylan slapped Killian on the back. “One woman asked Killian for my autograph. I’d say having you three around is like the King showing up at an Elvis impersonator convention, it’s hard to tell the real thing when you see it.”

Killian frowned. “Hey, she said I looked more like you than you do.”

“How about another round?” Jackson spoke up.

“Hell yeah!” Rogue motioned for a waitress to keep them coming. He reached in his vest pocket for the deck of cards he was never without, laying them on the table.

“Hey, how do we know those aren’t marked? You may be a card shark for all we know.” Dylan teased with a wink.

Jackson propped both elbows on the table. “I think the term is cardsharp, bro.”

Rogue began to shuffle the cards. “Actually, you’re both right. Sharp is the British choice and shark has become common in the states over the years. The word was actually schurke in German and meant swindler, which…” He raised an eyebrow at his brothers, “I’m not. My reputation is sterling in the gambling world. Having skill doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t have morals.” Rogue smiled big. “Ready?” he began to hum Kenny Roger’s famous song, “got to know when to hold’em…”

“Don’t start that!” Jackson warned. “Dylan’s the musician in the family.” There was good-hearted grumbling, but the game began. Cards were dealt, bets were made and there was more laughter than money exchanged. Rogue was surprised what a good time he had with his brothers. They attracted a crowd of onlookers, mostly women who stood around, cheering them on.

“You know what I feel like?” Jackson whispered for the Walker brothers’ ears only.

“What?” Rogue asked, intrigued.

Jackson tentatively looked over his shoulder. “With all the attention we’re getting, I feel like one of those dogs in those paintings, you know the ones where they’re sitting around a table wearing people clothes and playing poker.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Dylan laughed. “I’m no dog and I don’t mind the attention.”

Rogue didn’t either, but he felt funny. Something was up. A shiver kept going up and down his spine. Someone was watching him, and it wasn’t the friendly group that was hanging around the table. It was something else. “Why don’t we take a break?” He snagged one of the waitresses as they went by. “Tell your manager we have an up and coming country star here. See if they’ll let my brother, Dylan, play a tune or two with the band. I guarantee they won’t be sorry.”

Rogue watched while the waitress delivered his message. Soon the owner came out of his office, climbed on the stage, and whispered to a member of the band. The lead singer nodded enthusiastically and motioned toward Dylan. Making an announcement, the owner called for silence. “Ladies and gentlemen, give me your attention. We have a special treat for you. Dylan Walker is in the house. He plays a mean guitar. Dylan, come play for us!” There was a general round of applause and in a few minutes, Dylan was onstage wowing everyone with his talent on the electric guitar.

“Hey, he’s really good.” Jackson remarked with pride, taking a swig of beer.

Rogue and Killian nodded their agreement. “He sure is,” Rogue agreed. As Dylan finished one song, the saloon customers demanded an encore, which he gladly gave. All the while Rogue felt pinpricks of unease on his back, like laser points from a hunting rifle. Occasionally, he’d glance around, seeing no one or nothing that he thought could be making him feel like a sniper was honing in on him.

After Dylan finished, he returned to the table and the cards were put aside. No one had been cleaned out, and no one would walk away with everyone else’s money. It had been a fun game, that was all. Now, the talk turned to their women. Killian, being newly married thought everyone should join his ranks. “You don’t know what you’re missing, I’m telling you.”

“Sometimes things are complicated,” Dylan spoke lowly, not volunteering any more information.

“When the time’s right, I’ll make my move.” Jackson murmured. “Rori’s the one for me.”

Rogue shuffled the cards, just to be shuffling. “Kit’s pregnant.”

“Congratulations!” The other three spoke simultaneously.

He smiled. “Thanks, I’m thrilled about it. I’ll marry her as soon as things settle down a bit and we can find time to make all the arrangements.”

“Yea, weddings can be tricky.” Dylan agreed. “If it were me, I’d just as soon stand in front of a JP. Women want flowers, cake and doves.” He made a bit of a face.

“It’s their big day,” Jackson raised his glass to Dylan. “As a singer, you should understand the importance of setting. After all, I bet you have smoke and flashing lights on stage when you go on tour.”

Dylan didn’t answer, he just raised his hand for another beer.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Killian reminded them. “I guess we should look at the calendar and make some plans before we call it a night.”

The others agreed and soon they’d divided up the necessary trips, each selecting a date and destination that was most suited to them. “Great, it pays that we’re from different compass points in the country,” Jackson noted. “We usually can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

“See what we can accomplish when we put our minds to it.” Killian smiled. Rising, he announced, “I think I’ll head home. My honey’s waiting on me.”

The others agreed, draining their glasses. Rogue waved away their offer to pay their part. “Nope, I told you, this evening is on me.”

“Let’s do it again soon.” Dylan shook his brother’s hands. Rogue waved them on as he went to the bar to pay their tab. Watching the other three Walker boys make their way through the crowd, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the attention they were getting.

“How much?” he asked the tired-looking bartender.

After they’d settled up, he slipped his wallet into his back pocket. A small tap on his shoulder made him jump.

“Rogue? Rogue Walker?”

A sweetly feminine voice with a Hispanic accent wafted over his shoulder. He turned on his heels. “Yep, that’s me.” His eyes met a pair of dark soulful brown eyes that appeared to be misted with tears. A beautiful woman stood before him with suitcase in hand. “Can I help you, ma’am? Are you all right?”

“It’s just so good to see you. I’ve waited so long.” She dropped the case and threw her arms around his neck. “I came as soon as I could, just as you asked. Thank you for sending me the money. I was very careful. I have some left.”