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

while Astrid got some glasses, and they went outside again to where his mother sat on the porch, talking with Connor.

It was the perfect time for porch sitting, with the long summer twilight lying over the town and the air mild—or at least as mild as it would ever get in Alaska.

Astrid put the glasses on top of the wide wooden railing for Damon to pour them each a measure.

“One for the boy too,” Laura said, frowning.

“No,” Astrid and Damon both said at the same time.

Connor scowled.

Laura reached for her glass, then handed it Connor. “Just a sip, mind.”

Oh, his mother—she was going to be a problem.

But Damon didn’t care. How could he? When he had the three most important people in the world in his life?

Laura leaned back in the chair, and for a second nobody moved or spoke as she stared out over the river and the mountains beyond.

“You were right,” she said at last, glancing at Connor and then over to her son. “It sure is pretty here.”

And the last shred of tightness in Damon’s heart disappeared.

He gathered the woman he loved tight against him and stood with the boy he regarded as a son and the mother he adored, a family with roots that would soon grow deep, nurtured by love and compassion, joy and understanding. A tree that would grow tall and strong for years to come.

And together they watched the sun go down over Deep River.

Epilogue

Morgan West cycled home from Deep River township, the early-summer-evening sun shining on her back and making her feel warm under her uniform.

It had been a long day, but an excellent one and Morgan was full of a sense of well-being.

Sandy had just reported at a town meeting that one of the smaller cruise ship companies had agreed to add Deep River as a day stop on their way to Juneau, much to everyone’s delight.

Well, perhaps not quite everyone. There were still a few worries about tourists and strangers being around, but most people agreed that the Deep River tourism ventures were off to a great start.

It made Morgan happy. Being home made her happy.

That first day after she’d gotten back here—after the time she’d spent first on bereavement leave, and then on a police course for some distraction—and she’d put on her uniform…well, she’d felt like herself again. As if the normality that had been suspended after Cal’s death had reasserted itself.

And that was good. That was what she wanted: to be home in the place she loved, doing the job she also loved, protecting the people she cared about, and hopefully with no more drama in her life.

Morgan hummed to herself as she turned her bike into the driveway of the West house and coasted down the hill, letting the slight breeze generated by her speed cool her face.

But it wasn’t until she’d pulled up in front of the wide wraparound porch that she noticed the man standing right beside her front door.

The extremely tall man. And broad, like he routinely wrestled lions in his spare time. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and enough stubble to outline his very strong, hard jaw.

Handsome too, in a kind of wild, uncivilized way.

He had his hands in the pockets of a pair of very worn jeans and the expression on his face was that of a man who was set on getting his own way no matter what.

She recognized him. She’d met him at Cal’s funeral, and Damon and Silas had spent the last couple of weeks looking for him without much luck.

What was he doing here? Standing outside her front door?

Morgan got off her bike, leaned it up against the side of the house, then folded her arms across her chest and gave him a very stern look. “Where on earth have you been, Zeke Montgomery? Don’t you know everyone’s been looking for you?”

Keep reading for a sneak peek at the next book in Jackie Ashenden’s Alaska Homecoming series That Deep River Feeling

Available July 2021 from Sourcebooks Casablanca

Chapter 1

Zeke Montgomery knew Morgan West was going to be trouble the minute he laid eyes on her.

She stood at the foot of the steps to her own front door—the front door he’d been waiting outside of for the past couple of hours, not that he’d been counting or anything—with her arms folded, looking sternly at him like he was a little kid who’d just drawn on her walls with a crayon.

She was very small and wore a not particularly flattering uniform of dark brown pants and khaki shirt, with a dark brown parka that nearly swallowed her thrown over the top. And her strawberry-blond hair, the color of which reminded him of apricots, was in a very severe ponytail down her back.

She wore no makeup, her face freckled and wholesome, with those bright blue eyes, the ones he remembered from Cal’s funeral that had been red from weeping then but were much brighter now. They were also very, very direct.

And she was still the prettiest thing he’d seen for months, if not years.

All of which spelled trouble with a capital T.

She said crossly, “Where on earth have you been, Zeke Montgomery? Don’t you know everyone’s been looking for you?”

He had to admit, he was surprised. He didn’t think she’d remembered him from Cal’s funeral, but she obviously had. Which was good.

It was going to make this whole situation a hell of a lot easier.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, choosing to ignore the question for the moment. He’d tell her why he was here eventually, but in his own time. He didn’t like to rush important things.

Anyway, he hadn’t minded the two hours he’d spent sitting on her front porch waiting for her to come home. He could have gone searching for her, but he hadn’t wanted anyone else to know he was here—at least not yet.

He was a man used to waiting, though, and he’d liked the peaceful quiet