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

Mike snorted and folded his arms, remaining silent.

“What about Morgan?” someone else called out, and there were a few murmurs of agreement that whispered around the hall.

Morgan, sitting next to Hope, pulled a face, then stood up, her strawberry-blond hair glowing in the light. “I’m not an owner, as you guys already know.” She gazed around at the gathered townspeople. “And my brother didn’t leave Deep River to me because I didn’t want it.”

A shocked silence fell.

Yet Morgan didn’t look apologetic in the least. “I have a vote, just like the rest of you do, but no more than that. And I’m fine with it. For what it’s worth, though, I trust Silas and his friends, and Caleb wouldn’t have left the town to them if he hadn’t trusted them as well.”

Without another word, Morgan gave a nod, then sat down.

That Cal hadn’t left Deep River to Morgan had puzzled them all back in the shocked days after Cal had been killed. But they’d all agreed that he probably had a reason for not doing so, and it would have been a good one. Cal never left anything to chance.

Only his son and the woman he abandoned.

Damon’s gaze was drawn helplessly back to Astrid, standing at the head of the hall, unmoving and indomitable. She’d seemed fragile to him when he’d first met her, but not now. That strength was there inside her, an iron will like his own. The same kind of will that had made her go on after she’d been left with nothing and no one, with a tiny baby to look after. That had driven her to escape an abusive relationship, to swallow her pride and contact the man who’d rejected her for help, and all to find safety for her son.

She was a woman worth any price.

A woman worth loving.

Yes, and that too. But another man would have to love her. It wouldn’t be him.

People were starting to chatter again, the buzz of conversation rising, and Astrid called people to order and the meeting went on.

It went well.

Kevin Anderson turned out to be a surprisingly good speaker, talking eloquently about the fishing charter business he and a few of the other fishermen were planning. Gwen waxed lyrical about expanding the farmers’ market she’d started in the community center and how she’d roped in Clare from the B&B with her quilting, Filthy Phil with some carving, and Lloyd, the old trapper, with some of his homemade lemonade which he made in addition to his moonshine. And then Phil, who’d made the trip into town specially since he didn’t often come down from his little house on the hill, made a rambling presentation about the wildlife sanctuary that he’d begun building on his property. There was a bit of friction with Mike, who’d gotten up to speak about the luxury motel can of worms, that he’d once put to a town meeting a few years ago and that everyone gave the big thumbs-down to, but then Mike seemed to generate friction purely by existing. Sandy was a welcome breath of fresh air as she stood up to present her ideas for tourism promotion, including making Deep River a stop for cruise ships and other campaigns, appealing to people in big cities who might want a taste of the wild outdoors.

There were mutterings about tourists and crowds and not wanting things to change, but people generally accepted that if Deep River wanted to survive as a town, they were going to have to pull together on some things. And there was something positive about taking charge of their destiny themselves and not leaving it in the hands of the big-city suits.

They were a bunch of good people. Quirky and a bit different, but they all had good hearts—even Mike Flint. And they all wanted this to work for their town’s sake.

After the meeting had ended, Damon slipped out of the hall. He’d been planning to get the plane back to Juneau by the time night fell so he could leave for LA the next day, and he still had to get his stuff together back at the Moose. He’d do a round of goodbyes once he’d packed. No doubt everyone would be in the bar by that stage anyway, which would make things easier.

Twilight had settled over the town as he made his way back to the Moose, bathing everything in a golden glow. The river looked deeper and greener, the bush on the mountains lush and dense. Even the cluster of buildings at the water’s edge looked less ramshackle and more quirky and whimsical. Pretty, even. A place where people could take some time out from big city life. Where they could sit on the boardwalk with a beer and take in the silence and grandeur of mountains around them, let the peace of the wilderness settle inside them.

Yeah, this place would be okay. And Astrid would be too, and so would Connor. Perhaps he’d helped them, perhaps he hadn’t, but one thing was for sure: they’d go on without him just fine.

The thought should have encouraged him, but instead it felt bleak. A bleakness that had always been with him, that he hadn’t ever really shaken after Ella had died.

He needed to get back to LA; that was the answer for it. Submerge himself in caring for his mother. Watching out for other people was always preferable to thinking about himself and his goddamn issues, that was for sure.

He went down to the boardwalk and into the bar, climbing up the stairs.

It didn’t take long to pack his bag. He hadn’t brought much to start with, but by the time he came back downstairs again, the Moose was heaving with seemingly the entire town.

There were stares as he strode up to the bar, but he ignored them. Hope was standing behind it, regarding him with a steady, dark gaze. “You leaving then, pretty?”

He smiled, very conscious of how