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

calls were half measures, and the boy deserved more than that from him. A hell of a lot more.

But he didn’t have it to give. All he could give him was the truth.

“I’m sorry, Con.” He held the boy’s gaze. “I can’t stay. I know it sucks, but I have to think of my mom. She’s got no one else to take care of her and she needs to stay in LA, where the hospitals are.”

Something seemed to go out of the kid then, the light of determination in his eyes dying. He looked away, his shoulders hunching. “Yeah, I get it.”

The hopeless note in Connor’s voice made Damon feel as if someone had punched him in the stomach.

“Connor,” he began.

But the teenager only shook his head and walked past Damon wordlessly, stiff and furious as he strode back to the community center and up the stairs, disappearing inside.

Good going, asshole.

Damon cursed under his breath and strode forward a couple of steps, taking a couple of deep breaths, trying to corral his fury and frustration.

The early evening air was cool and fresh in his lungs, carrying with it the scent of the river and the faint spice of cedar and spruce from the forest.

His temper eased a little.

Why did he feel Connor’s disappointment so acutely? The boy wasn’t his son. He’d known him less than a week, so the sharpness of the feeling didn’t make any sense.

Perhaps it was because he knew what it was like to be lonely. To need someone to talk to. His mom had worked two jobs to make ends meet, leaving him on his own a lot. Which he hadn’t complained about, especially considering she was working hard to keep him fed.

So yes, it had been lonely. But he’d sucked it up and gone on because he’d had to. Because he’d had no one else.

Because life was hard and some things you had to do by yourself.

He’d managed it; Connor would have to do the same.

“Damon?” The voice behind him was soft and feminine.

Astrid.

He turned sharply. She came down the steps from the center’s porch and onto the gravel, her footsteps crunching. Her hair gleamed, a soft golden halo. She wore worn jeans and a deep-blue long-sleeved button-down shirt with a parka thrown over the top, the color tingeing the gray of her eyes, making them look like thunderclouds.

She was so beautiful. But it wasn’t her beauty that made his heart catch inside him. It was the look on her face, full of concern.

Everyone needs someone, Damon. And you have me. You will always have me.

The memory of what she’d said to him the night before drifted through his head like a song he couldn’t remember the words to, the tune haunting him.

He ignored it.

“Yes?” He tried to sound neutral but couldn’t hide the rasp of emotion that lingered in his voice. “Is the meeting starting?”

“I’m going to give it a few more minutes.” She took another couple of steps, then stopped, her gaze roving over him. “Are you okay? I saw Connor come in looking upset. Did he do something he shouldn’t?”

It took conscious effort to relax his tight muscles. “He just told me that he called my mother. He got her details from Silas and called her to tell her how great Deep River was and that she needed to move there with me.”

Shock rippled over Astrid’s fine, precise features. “Oh, for the love of… That kid… I’ll kill him.”

“It’s not his fault.” Damon’s hands ached where they were clenched in fists, so he thrust them in his pockets. “It’s Silas I’m planning to kill. He had no right to give Connor Mom’s number.”

“No, he didn’t.” Astrid folded her arms. “But I think Silas wants you to stay.”

“Yeah, I know he does.”

“And so does Connor.”

“I can’t, Astrid. You know I can’t.”

“No,” she said quietly. “I know.”

The acceptance in her tone caught at his anger somehow, inflaming it though he couldn’t think why. Because he didn’t want her insisting that he stay, right? He didn’t need another voice to add to the chorus.

“That doesn’t sound convincing,” he said before he could stop himself.

She frowned. “What do you want me to say, then? You have your mother to care for. I understand that.”

“Do you?” He didn’t know why he was asking her. He didn’t know what he wanted her to say.

“Of course. What does it matter what I think, anyway?” Her gaze was cool, the mayor in charge. But he could hear a note of challenge in the words, as if she wanted him to dispute it.

Which he would. He wasn’t going to let her opinion change his mind, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t important or that she didn’t matter. And he wanted to hear what she had to say.

“It matters,” he said. “Tell me.”

She stared at him, expressions he didn’t understand flickering across her face. Her eyes had darkened almost into the deep blue of her shirt. “No,” she said at last. “I don’t think you should stay.”

His gut lurched, though again he wasn’t sure why. Because wasn’t that a good thing? It was better for her if she didn’t want him to stay.

“Why not?” The question was out before he could stop himself.

“Because you don’t want to.”

“What makes you say that?”

She held his gaze, unflinching. “I can see it in your eyes, Damon. I think if you’d wanted to stay, you’d move heaven and earth to make it happen.”

There was no accusation in her tone, but it was so determinedly neutral it needled him. “There’s no way I can—”

“Please,” she interrupted, and this time he heard a small tremor in her voice. “Don’t use your mother as an excuse.”

Shock moved through him, lightning rooting him to the spot.

“I’m not,” he said hoarsely. “You think I should leave her alone? Let her burn her house down? Wander onto the road and get hit by a car? Or just forget to eat? You think I should do that instead?”

She shook her head. “No, of