Deep River Promise Read online

  She dusted the glass and goaty face beneath it, her brain returning stubbornly to the brilliant glitter in Damon’s eyes and the way he’d been looking at her, as if she was something good to eat. A dangerous thing to fixate on when pretty much every interaction she’d ever had with men had ended badly. At least for her.

  It might not end badly this time. After all, he’ll be leaving, right?

  “No,” Astrid muttered to herself. “No way.”

  “No?” a voice said from the doorway. “No way what?”

  Astrid turned.

  A small, curvaceous woman in a beautifully tailored blue linen dress stood in the doorway. Her strawberry-blond hair was coiled at the nape of her neck, her face heart-shaped and pretty. She projected an aura of delicate femininity, yet there was nothing overtly feminine about her direct blue stare.

  Morgan West. Caleb’s sister and Deep River’s Village Public Safety Officer, a.k.a. the law, was earnest, principled, honest, and completely committed to her job as town protector.

  Astrid liked her very much, though there was always a certain amount of guilt attached when it came to Morgan, because she was another person that Astrid hadn’t told about Connor. And considering that Morgan was his aunt…

  “Morgan,” Astrid said, forcing the guilt away and smiling. “You’re back.”

  “Hi, Astrid.” Morgan grinned and came into the office, while Astrid put down her dusting cloth in order to give her a brief hug.

  “How are you?” Astrid asked, giving her a concerned look.

  Morgan hadn’t returned to Deep River immediately after Cal’s funeral, and rumor was that she’d been at some kind of police training course. But there had been a few whispers questioning that and even more so after Silas had appeared with the news about the oil and how he was the new co-owner of the town. Speculation had been rife about why Morgan hadn’t been named in the will, and then once they’d discovered that Silas had offered the town to her and she’d refused, people were full of questions about why she hadn’t wanted Deep River.

  Certain factions within the town—traditional factions—had been disapproving. The town belonged to the Wests and should stay with the Wests. They were slightly mollified by the fact that Silas was Deep River born and bred, but they still hadn’t been very happy that Morgan had refused. She would come in for a bit of flak for that.

  “I’m doing okay.” Morgan had a very determined look on her face. “Tell me. How bad is it?”

  That was Morgan: direct and to the point. She didn’t beat around the bush. And Astrid knew exactly what she was asking.

  “The town is in an uproar,” she answered, just as blunt. “People are worried. They want to know why the sole remaining West didn’t contest the will or accept when the town was offered to her. And that’s not even going into this oil stuff.”

  An expression that Astrid couldn’t read flickered over Morgan’s pretty face. “Right. So, kind of what I expected. Silas came to the party though, didn’t he?”

  Astrid let out a breath. “Yeah, he did. In fact, he’s been great—pulled the town together, got everyone to make a decision about how they were going to tackle it.”

  Morgan nodded, as if this was what she’d expected. “Good. I knew Silas could handle it.”

  Astrid debated whether to just come out and ask or whether to let it lie. But then it was something Morgan wouldn’t shy away from, so she decided not to either.

  “Silas said that he offered you the town and you refused it,” she said carefully. “I don’t mean to pry, Morgan, but people were asking. They were shocked about the oil too. I mean, did you even know Caleb had been prospecting? That there were reserves under the ground?”

  “Can we not talk about it now?” Steel shone in her blue-gray eyes, yet there was no mistaking the note of pain in her voice. “It’s private family business.”

  Well, if Morgan didn’t want to talk, then she didn’t want to talk.

  “Okay, no drama.” Astrid kept her tone mild. “People will just have to suck it up.”

  Morgan’s mouth worked as if she’d been going to say something, then it firmed, Officer West firmly in control. “I’d like a rundown on the situation if you’ve got time.”

  “Of course.” Astrid gestured at the chair that Damon had vacated. “Take a seat and I’ll walk you through it.”

  “Astrid.” The steel in Morgan’s gaze had eased. “I’m not trying to be difficult, okay? At the moment, all I want is some normality.”

  That was something Astrid could get on board with. She could use some normality right now herself and it was a pity there wasn’t much of it to go around.

  “Hate to say it, but normality pretty much disappeared when Cal died,” she said.

  Grief flickered across Morgan’s face. “I suppose so.” She turned abruptly and went over to the chair near the desk and sat down. “Tell me anyway, then.”

  Chapter 8

  Coming out of the mayor’s office, his head still full of the glitter of heat in Astrid’s eyes, it took Damon a moment or two to notice a familiar figure.

  Connor was once again lounging near the Nowhere pole, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his strawberry-blond hair gleaming the sun.

  Hell, that was another thing to think about. Were people going to notice the resemblance at some stage? He’d met Morgan West at the funeral, and her hair was exactly the same color. It wasn’t common either.

  Connor came to attention instantly and started toward him in a very determined manner. Clearly the kid had something to say, which was good. Damon had been hoping Connor would seek him out rather than the other way around.

  “I’m going to April’s to get donuts,” he said casually as Connor approached. “Want one?”

  “You were supposed to be leaving.” Connor sounded personally offended by this, his blue eyes snapping with anger. “You weren’t supposed to be hanging around.”

  Damon didn’t react. “Nice to see you too, Connor.”

  “What were you doing in Mom’s office?” The kid was bristling with the same prickly energy he’d noticed around Astrid. “You don’t need to talk to her.”

  Damon studied his face. There was something more going on than simple anger that Damon hadn’t left and that he’d been talking to Astrid. Naturally it would be complicated by Caleb’s death, but that wasn’t the only thing at work here.

  “I like that you’re looking out for your mom.” Damon kept his voice uninflected, holding the kid’s gaze so Connor could see the truth in his eyes. “But you don’t need to protect her from me. I’m not going to hurt her. I’ve just been talking to her about tourism opportunities for Deep River. That’s all.”

  “That would sound good if I trusted you. But I don’t.”

  “Fair enough. I wouldn’t trust me either. Have you been waiting for me?”

  Connor looked disdainful. “No.”

  “Do you want to talk?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Shall I get us a donut and hot chocolate?”

  The kid’s jaw worked, every line of him in denial.

  Damon gave him a minute.

  “Coffee,” Connor said, the very essence of grudging. “I like coffee.” And then, as an afterthought, “Please.”

  Damon nodded, keeping his grin to himself as he pushed open the door to April’s and went inside. He’d take grudging. That was progress.

  A couple of minutes later, he came out again, carrying coffees for himself and Connor, plus another bag containing the donuts.

  “I’m not talking to you,” Connor warned. “But thank you for the donuts.”

  Damon decided not to respond to that, jerking his head toward the dock, then starting toward it, the boy trailing along behind him.

  A couple of boats were still moored, but most of them had gone downriver to the sea. Kevin Anderson
’s was on the other side of the river, though whether he was picking someone up or dropping them off, Damon couldn’t tell.

  He went down the wooden stairs and along the dock a ways, then putting down the food and drink, sat down on the side, his legs dangling over the edge.

  Connor came up to him, hovered there a minute as if uncertain what to do, then finally, reluctantly, sat down beside him.

  Damon handed him his coffee and a donut.

  “Thank you,” Connor said politely, taking them.

  Good manners even when annoyed. That was an excellent start.

  Silence fell and Damon let it sit there, broken only by the rushing of the river beneath the dock, the sound of the odd conversation drifting from the town nearby, and the call of a bird somewhere overhead.

  The sun was still shining, settling warmly on his back and doing a good job of convincing him that it was summer. Though it wouldn’t actually be summer for another few weeks yet.

  It was peaceful in this place. More peaceful than Juneau. He’d thought the day before about the magic of Alaska, but this town had a magic all its own. In the mountains that surrounded the town and in the deep green of the river it was named for.

  He liked it very much.

  “You like her, don’t you?” Connor asked after a moment.

  Ah, hell. Damon knew what he was talking about and he did not want to get into it. “You really want to talk about me and your mom when you could be asking me about your father?”

  But the kid didn’t back down. “It’s just a question.”

  Damon glanced at him.

  Connor looked back, challenging.

  “Yeah, I do like her,” Damon said, giving him the truth because he wasn’t going to lie. Connor deserved the truth and so did Astrid. “But just so you know, nothing’s going to happen. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

  Connor’s gaze was full of distrust and suspicion, but there was something more swimming in the depths. Something that Damon thought looked an awful lot like fear.

  His heart shifted in his chest, the feeling unexpectedly sharp. At another time, he might have been worried by that, because his feelings were always muted, the sharp edges blunted long ago. But there were too many questions in his head to be concerned about that now.

  Why was this boy afraid? And about what? Was it him, Damon himself? Connor had been mad about Damon talking to Astrid, which mean the kid was worried for his mother.

  Someone has hurt these two and badly.

  The thought sat in his head, the edge keen as a razor blade. The kid’s protectiveness and worry, his fear—they were all giveaways. Astrid was more guarded and reserved, and there was a wariness to her. She radiated “only so far and no farther.” Yet there were hints of a more passionate nature underneath all that cool, little flickers of fire and electricity.

  People hid stuff all the time, and he knew that better than most.

  These two were hiding something. And if he wanted to know what it was, he would have to go carefully.

  Why do you want to know?

  A redundant question. He had a promise to keep and if that involved finding out what had hurt a boy and his mother, then he would. And maybe he’d hurt the son of a bitch responsible in turn, because he had no problem with that. No problem with that whatsoever.

  “You said you’d leave yesterday,” Connor said. “And you didn’t.”

  “No. I didn’t,” Damon agreed. “Thought I’d stay in case you wanted to talk to me about your dad.”

  “You mean you stayed for me?” Connor looked frankly disbelieving. “Why?”

  “The truth? Because your father asked me to.”

  Connor’s face went blank. “What?”

  “You got a letter from your dad and so did I. He wanted me to look out for you, make sure you were okay. So that’s why I’m here.”

  Connor stared at him for a moment longer, then glanced away, out over the water, holding his coffee in his hands. “I didn’t ask to be looked out for.”

  “I know.”

  “He could have looked out for me himself.” Connor’s voice deepened with hurt. “He knew where I was.”

  Caleb, you asshole.

  Damon had the strangest urge to put a hand on Connor’s back, a comfort and a support, just to let him know he was there. But he knew the kid wouldn’t welcome it, so instead he said, “You know why he didn’t, don’t you?”

  Connor shook his head, his jaw tense, his attention still out over the water.

  “He was ashamed,” Damon said. “He was ashamed of the way he treated your mom when she got pregnant. He…ran away. He was only two years older than you are now, so he was very young. Over the years, he came to realize what an awful thing he’d done, and so when Astrid needed some help, he gave it to her. And to you too.”

  “But he didn’t want to see me. He knew where I was and he didn’t come.”

  “Like I said, he was ashamed. You know what Caleb West was to this town. I think he was afraid of what people might think of him.”

  Connor looked down, saying nothing.

  “He was wrong,” Damon went on softly. “He should have said something to you. He could have done that at least.”

  “Yeah, well, he didn’t.” Connor took an angry bite of his donut.

  Well, the kid might be angry, but at least he wasn’t going to waste a good donut.

  Damon let the silence hang for another couple of moments, trying to think about how he could help, what he could do. It seemed as if all the adults in Connor’s life—and some of them for good reasons, no doubt—hadn’t been very clear with him. They’d kept information back. Which mean that right now what the kid really needed was to be told what was going on.

  It wasn’t his place to do that, but he had a duty to Cal. And who else did Connor have to talk to who already knew his secret and who knew his father? No one. And Damon was neutral ground too, which helped. Kid wouldn’t have to worry about getting angry with him because he had no horse in this race.

  “Your mom was protecting you, I think,” Damon murmured. “By not telling you who he was.”

  “How is that protecting me?”

  “Cal didn’t want anyone knowing he had a kid. And I guess your mom wanted to protect you from that.” Damon paused. “Every boy wants their father to be a hero, right? Running away from responsibility and denying that you have a kid isn’t exactly heroic. I suspect your mom wanted better for you than that.”

  Connor stared out over the water. He finished the donut, then sipped at his coffee, his posture stiff, his jaw tight. “Mom told me once that my dad was a soldier and he was fighting a lot. And that one day she’d tell me all about him. When I was old enough.”

  Damon thought about the wariness in Astrid, that prickling energy when he’d talked to her about Connor. Complicated. All of this was complicated.

  “Your father was a flawed guy,” he said, sipping at his coffee too, keeping things neutral. “But at heart, he was a good one. And he was trying to make up for mistakes he’d made when he was very young.” Caleb’s haunted face from that night on watch drifted in his memory, full of regret and grief yet also determination. “I think he knew he’d left it too late, but he still wanted to do the right thing by you.”

  “If he’d wanted to do the right thing, he could have left the town to me instead of you assholes.”

  “Ah.” Damon tried not to grin at the boy’s aggrieved tone, something in him easing slightly since being aggrieved was better than hurt. “Is that why you’re running around helping people? Throwing yourself between the town and me? You trying to protect this place?”

  Connor glanced at him, a fierce expression on his face. “Of course. My dad might not have left it to me, but it’s still my responsibility. You’re a stranger. You’re all strangers. I don’t know what you’re going to do
, so someone has to make sure that Deep River stays safe.”

  Sympathy gripped him. Connor was an intense, determined kid with a highly developed sense of what was right and wrong. A good kid, as Astrid had told him.

  Damon met his gaze, giving him honesty, taking him seriously. “I get it. And that’s a legit concern. Any stranger that comes into your town, you’re going to want to check them out, see if they’re on the level.”

  Connor’s jaw jutted, his gaze narrowing, obviously searching for signs that Damon was laughing at him. He didn’t find any. “Yeah. That’s right.”

  “That’s good. Protecting those you care about is important. It’s what separates a good man from a crappy one.”

  “Well, I—”

  “But you can’t protect a whole town on your own, kid,” Damon interrupted gently. “That’s a hell of a responsibility for a grown man, let alone a teenager.”

  “So? I can take it.”

  “Sure you can.” Damon sipped on his coffee peaceably. “But you know, Cal left it to three of us. Not just Silas. Or me. Or Zeke. He spread the responsibility around ’cause that’s tough for one person to carry.”

  “Yeah, but he did it,” Connor pointed out. “He was on his own.”

  “No, he wasn’t. Cal had his sister. And he had the mayor. In fact, he had the whole town with him, helping him and supporting him, because people look out for each other as well. Understand?”

  A muscle flicked in Connor’s square jaw.

  “You’re on your own,” Damon went on, giving it to him straight. “You don’t have any buddies at your side. You don’t have a sister. You can’t have the mayor because she’s your mom and you have to protect her. And because no one knows who you really are, you don’t even have the town.”

  Connor looked away. He picked up a stone sitting beside him on the dock and threw it hard into the river.

  Damon didn’t want to hurt him. He only wanted Connor to acknowledge the weight of the burden he was carrying, that it was heavy even for an adult. Responsibilities always were.