Jackson: the Sons of Dusty Walker
“Two more planes sat parked along the hanger. Dylan’s, and Killian’s, probably, if they’d decided to come back for this bonding week. And Rogue would still be here, unless he’d skipped out. The red company truck Jackson had used sat next to the planes, and he found the keys in the ignition. “Small towns.”
A few minutes later, he sat around a table in Cubby’s Restaurant with the other three Walker offspring.
“You’re driving Dad’s Caddy?” Dylan grinned at Rogue, who’d spent the last week in Kansas, and gestured to the champagne-colored land barge parked at the curb.
“Damn right. The thing is smooth as sin.”
Jackson fiddled with the fork that sat on a napkin in front of him. “You know, Dylan, when I got your email after that first week, I thought you’d gone crazy.” From the first minute he’d set foot here, Jackson had wanted nothing more than to shake the dust of this town off him and leave.
But a letter from a deceased man, a town full of characters, and most importantly, an amazing woma...n, had changed his mind.MoreLess
A few minutes later, he sat around a table in Cubby’s Restaurant with the other three Walker offspring.
“You’re driving Dad’s Caddy?” Dylan grinned at Rogue, who’d spent the last week in Kansas, and gestured to the champagne-colored land barge parked at the curb.
“Damn right. The thing is smooth as sin.”
Jackson fiddled with the fork that sat on a napkin in front of him. “You know, Dylan, when I got your email after that first week, I thought you’d gone crazy.” From the first minute he’d set foot here, Jackson had wanted nothing more than to shake the dust of this town off him and leave.
But a letter from a deceased man, a town full of characters, and most importantly, an amazing woma...n, had changed his mind.MoreLess
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