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

on his face must have given her pause because she didn’t say anything, letting him move past her without a word.

Outside, late afternoon was starting to set in, the sun on its way down. The late spring air had a hint of chill to it, the last gasps of winter coming down off the mountains.

Connor walked out into the gravel parking area. The line of people going in had lessened, the hum of conversation drifting out from the open doors ensuring people probably wouldn’t hear them.

The kid came to a stop, then turned around, facing him and the community center, the stubborn look on his face pure mule.

Damon stopped too, fighting to get a handle on the anger pooling in his gut. “Okay, so you get that calling my mother without telling me is a huge breach of her privacy, right?”

Connor said nothing, a muscle in his jaw leaping.

“How did you even get her details, anyway?”

“Silas. He had next-of-kin details for you.”

Okay, so that was good. At least the kid was giving him the truth and wasn’t hiding it. But still…

“So, what? You just asked him and he gave you that information without consulting me?”

“Yeah, he did.” Connor’s blue eyes glinted with challenge. “He agreed with me.”

Right, so now he was going to have to kill Silas. And then maybe stick his head over the bar in the Moose.

“Agreed about what?” Damon snapped, the iron of the officer he’d once been in his voice. “Tell me, Connor, and it had better be good.”

Connor didn’t flinch. He stood there the way he’d stood near the Nowhere pole when Damon had stumbled out of bed that first morning. All confrontation, challenge, and stubborn determination.

“We want you to stay,” Connor said flatly. “Me and Silas. We want you to stay in Deep River. And I know your mom is sick. Silas told me that you don’t want to take her away from her home, so I thought I’d call her and tell her what a great place Deep River is. How she’d be really happy here because there’s a porch to sit on and mountains to look at. And I’d visit her. She wouldn’t be lonely. Everyone here would visit her.”

The dead hearth of Damon’s heart felt sore, a longing rolling over him so strong he could hardly breathe. Because he could see his mother sitting on that porch, could see Connor coming to visit her, the pair of them sitting and chatting. His mother was a social person, she liked talking to people and particularly young people. They made her feel young too, she’d once told him…

No, it was impossible. Familiarity was important and there would be nothing familiar to her about Deep River. The confusion was already starting and it was only going to get worse, plus there were implications about being so far away from health services. The whole idea was ridiculous.

“So you call my sick mother, whom you don’t know and who doesn’t know you, without my knowledge, to sing the praises of some tin-pot little town in the middle of goddamn nowhere.” His voice was rising now, his anger getting hotter. “Tell me, Connor. If I’d done that to your very sick mom, how would you feel?”

Connor’s face had paled. “She didn’t sound sick. She said she liked the idea of it.”

“She’s got early onset dementia,” Damon said harshly. “She probably thought you were me.”

“No, she didn’t. I told her my name and where I was from and how I knew you. And I told her that I wanted you to stay here, with us. With me and Mom.”

Damon’s anger stretched out, dark as a shadow inside him, but he didn’t move.

Why are you so angry? When you weren’t supposed to care?

He ignored the thought. He didn’t want to frighten the kid, but Connor had to know that he’d overstepped. That he was messing with things that didn’t concern him and when those things concerned Damon’s mother, then he needed a reality check. A hard one.

“You had no right to do that,” Damon said coldly. “You had no right to invade her privacy and mine. You should have talked to me first.”

“Sure, I could have talked to you. And you would have said no.”

“You’re damn right I would have said no.” Tension crawled through him, every muscle in his body tightening. “This is none of your concern, Connor.”

“Bullshit. It is my concern.” Connor moved suddenly, taking a few steps forward, coming closer, his blue eyes full of a fury that matched the fury inside Damon. “My father chose you, Damon. He chose you to come and look out for me, but now you’re leaving. You stayed four measly days and now you’re going home. How is that looking out for me?”

The anger in his gut seemed disproportionate, but he couldn’t seem to shove it away. It ate at him, burned him. Felt like someone had lit a fire under him and was holding his skin to the coals.

“What do you want from me?” he demanded roughly. “You’re a great kid, you’ve got lots of confidence and common sense most of the time. You’ve got your mom and the town looking out for you. You don’t need me.”

“What do I want?” Connor shifted on his feet, crunching gravel under his sneakers. “I want a guy I can just…talk to about stuff. You know, things I can’t talk to Mom about. I know you’re not my dad and I’m not looking for one. But a friend would be good.”

Damon’s heart twisted, his anger turning inward on himself. A friend, that’s all the kid wanted. That’s all. How could he deny him that?

“I can give you my number. We can email or I can call—”

“Email?” Connor’s voice was sharp with disappointment and anger. “That’s seriously all you got? Going to be really effective out here where there’s no service.”

Shit.

You goddamn coward.

Damon gritted his teeth, set his jaw. No, screw that; he wasn’t a coward. And Connor was right; email or phone