Deep River Promise, Jackie Ashenden [large ebook reader .TXT] 📗

sideways glance. “You mean like standing naked on a balcony?” Whatever worry had been in her eyes before had gone. Now, he caught the very distinct glitter of a tease, not to mention a hint of challenge.

Interest stirred inside him yet again. He did like a challenging woman.

Don’t be a fool. It’s time to go.

Yeah, it really was.

He smiled. “Something like that.”

Then he walked away, heading over the boardwalk to the stairs, his boots ringing on the worn wooden boards. And he didn’t feel the slightest pang of regret at an opportunity missed. Not at all.

He went down the stairs to the dock and walked along it toward where Connor stood. The boy watched him approach, determined not to take his eyes off him even for a second.

“So,” Damon said casually as he came closer to the kid. “Want to show me how people in this town get over the river?”

Connor eyed him warily. “The ferry.” He jerked his head toward the battered red fishing boat that was moored at the end of the dock. “But you already know that.”

Didn’t miss a trick, did he?

“Sure,” Damon said. “Just looking for an icebreaker.”

Connor’s blue eyes narrowed. “I’m not talking to you. All I’m doing is making sure you leave Deep River without trying anything funny.”

Damon lifted a shoulder, as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. No one’s forcing you.”

Keeping things easy and casual was probably going to be the best approach, walking that line between not being a threat and yet not being a pushover either—the immovable object to the unstoppable force. He was good at that.

Except for that one time the unstoppable force had run right over the top of him, and no amount of being immovable had stopped it from crushing him flat.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to think of that time.

Damon turned toward the ferry. “Come on, then.” He didn’t wait, heading on down the dock, hearing the boy’s footsteps clattering after him.

The guy who handled the ferry crossing—Kevin Anderson, a big man, burly and laconic, whom Damon had had a long chat with in the Moose a night or two ago—gave Damon a nod and grunted when Damon told him he wanted to go across.

The man couldn’t have been called effusive by any stretch, but Damon noticed the pointed look he gave Connor as the kid climbed on board after Damon.

“Bit late for the bus, Connor,” Kevin commented. “Your mom know you skipped school?”

“Yeah.” Connor didn’t look away from the other man’s stare. “Don’t worry, she grounded me. But I’m just making sure this guy”—he nodded at Damon—“gets out of Deep River okay.”

“Huh.” Kevin glanced at Damon too. “Is that right?”

“I thought it would be best,” Damon replied, meeting Anderson’s suspicious stare with his own. Letting the other guy know that he had it in hand.

“We can’t be too careful of strangers,” Connor said. “Mom said it was okay. Not that I need her permission,” he added quickly. “I just want to protect our town.”

A puzzled look crossed Anderson’s face, but he didn’t question it, only nodded. “Sure, sure. Best you keep an eye on him, then.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Connor assured him. “I will.”

Damon hid a smile and turned to go stand in the prow and wait.

The boat turned toward the far side and began to motor across, and sure enough, a couple of seconds later, he felt Connor’s presence at his side, along with a good healthy dose of eau de sweaty teenage boy.

“I’m not going to jump in and swim back.” Damon gazed at the far bank where the road was and the Deep River airstrip, the mountains towering beyond. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Connor snorted as if that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “As if.”

A silence fell and Damon let it sit there a moment, the only sounds the rumble of the ferry’s motor, the rush of the river, and the occasional cry of the gulls.

Then he asked, “Want to tell me what’s got you all riled up?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Cos it’s none of your business, that’s why.”

“Considering it’s me you’re pissed with, that makes it very much my business. I’m also not here to do anything to the town and I think you know that.”

“I don’t know that.” Connor began kicking the side of the boat with one scuffed sneaker. “All I know about you is that you turned up randomly, suddenly owning the whole town.”

Ah, so that was part of the issue, was it?

“If it helps, I don’t actually want to own the whole town.” Damon watched as the boat approached the far bank. “I have responsibilities elsewhere, so Silas is more than welcome to my share.”

“Sure, that’s what people say when they don’t want other people to know what’s going on.”

Damon glanced at him. “So what do you think’s going on?”

The boy’s face was very set and he met Damon’s gaze challengingly. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

Okay, this wasn’t getting him anywhere. Connor was obviously determined to be as prickly as his mother.

Damon glanced back over the river again. “I get that you don’t like me, and I get that you don’t trust me. And you’ve made it very clear you don’t want to talk to me. But we’re nearly here, so if you’ve got a question, now’s the time to ask it.”

“I don’t have a question,” Connor muttered. “Why would you think I had a question?”

“I don’t know,” Damon said dryly. “You tell me.”

Connor reddened. “I don’t have a question,” he repeated, though this time it sounded like it was more to himself than anything else.

Damon said nothing, letting the silence occupy another couple of moments. The kid would have to come to it in his own time. The only thing Damon could do was let him have some space to realize that.

The other side of the river loomed, the mountains pressing in. Flying into Deep River had been a bitch, and