Chapter 15

“You’re pretty chipper for someone out carousing all night.” Marliss picked up the full mug of coffee Lou had poured, set it on the table in front of Killian, and gave him a narrow-eyed look.

He smiled. He’d tried to be as quiet as possible when he came home, but nothing escaped Marliss and Lou.

“Watching out the window, were you?” He took a fortifying sip of the dark brew.

“I’m a light sleeper.” Without asking, she pulled out a chair and sat down at the table with him. “Lou and me can never sleep until all the chicks are in the barn.”

Killian laughed. “I think you’re mixing your metaphors a little, Marliss. And I hardly think I could be classified as a chick.”

“You’re Dusty’s chick. That’s what counts.”

“Yeah? Didn’t count for much for a long time, did it?”

Marliss slammed her hand down on the table. “I won’t let you speak ill of the man. He loved all you boys, and your mamas.”

Killian quirked an eyebrow. “And his wife, too?”

Lou set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Killian, along with a basket of biscuits. “Dusty and the missus made a good marriage out of what they had. They knew what they was getting from the gitgo, and they forged ahead.”

Killian swallowed a bite of egg and bit off a piece of bacon. “I don’t understand how they could stay together if they didn’t love each other. What kind of marriage is that?”

“The kind they could both live with,” Marliss told him. “She wanted Dusty at any price, and he wanted in on the oil and minerals. He was always respectful of her.”

“Respectful.” Killian snorted. He took a moment to butter a biscuit. “You call it respectful for a man to have four women on the side like he did?”

Marliss leaned toward him. “He loved every one of those women, including your mama, and he did right by them, and you boys.”

Killian ate more egg, more bacon, a little biscuit, taking his time so he didn’t blurt out something in anger.

“Well?” she prodded. “Nothing to say?”

He chewed slowly, sipped a little more coffee. “What I have to say is, my mother is one of the most gracious women on the face of the earth. I cannot begin to imagine what she saw in Dusty or how she put up with his bullshit all these years, and that was before she knew there were three more women just like her.”

“He took good care of her,” Marliss insisted.

“With visits every few weeks, a few crumbs of his presence, a few smooth words now and then? You call that taking care of someone?”

Lou refilled his coffee mug. “He loved your mother,” he told Killian. “He talked about her all the time. And you.”

“And all the others, I’ll bet.”

“You were the oldest,” Marliss reminded him. “The first born. You and your mama held a special place in his heart.”

“Not special enough to keep him away from three more situations like mine.”

“Okay, enough.” Lou brought his own cup of coffee and sat down at the table. “Dusty Walker made a lot of mistakes. He was the first one to admit it. But there was a lot of good in the man, too. And a lot of love.”

“He sure was good at spreading it around,” Killian said stubbornly.

“He was a man with a big heart,” the cook insisted. “He wanted kids something fierce. It was a sad thing his wife couldn’t have them, and it gave both of them a lot of sorrow. I’m not saying the way he chose was the right one, but he lived up to his obligations with everyone. And he did it willingly.”

“I’m gonna show you something.” Marliss pushed her chair back from the table. “You sit right there.”

“Where’s she going, Lou?” Killian asked.

The big man shrugged. “Probably to get something.”

“Well, that tells me a whole hell of a lot.”

He ate in silence for a few minutes until Marliss came scurrying back into the room. She carried a big book and slammed it on the table next to Killian.

“Go on,” she told him. “Take a look.”

The book was covered in heavy, embossed leather and in the center, in script, was the letter K. What the hell was this? A scrapbook? What kind of scrapbook could Dusty have been keeping? He continued eating in silence, preparing himself for whatever he was going to see, while Marliss and Lou gave him what he called the deadeye stare. Finally, he pushed his plate away, wiped his mouth, and opened the book.

And stared. His jaw actually dropped as he turned the pages slowly, stunned at what he was seeing. His mother must have sent every picture of him she’d ever taken to Dusty, along with all the articles in the local paper about his awards in school. Academic honors. Athletic awards. Even pictures of him working at Hart Brothers Ranch. What the fuck? He stared at Lou and Marliss.

“What the hell is this?”

“He had one for each of you boys,” Marliss explained. “He knew it was impossible for him to be as much of a constant in your lives as he wanted to, but he didn’t want to miss out on everything, either.”

“One of these for each of us?” he repeated. He was having a lot of trouble absorbing this.

“He made sure each of you boys and your mamas were well taken care of,” Lou reminded him. “Bought good homes for y’all. Made sure each of you had everything you needed, though he couldn’t be there all the time. Especially since he couldn’t be there all the time.”