Deep River Promise

by Jackie Ashenden

  “Sure,” Silas said absently. “Oh, and, Damon? I wouldn’t mention Zeke to anyone. At least not until he turns up. The town is already unsettled enough with this oil crap. They don’t need to know that one of the new owners has disappeared.”

  The new owners…of which he was one.

  Damon took a breath, thinking about Connor and the responsibility the kid was carrying around on his shoulders. Bad enough for an adult man, let alone for a fifteen-year-old. And now he was skipping school… Yeah, he didn’t like that. Not good for the kid and it was worrying his mom too. The mayor didn’t need that on top of everything else she was managing, which from the sound of it was quite a bit…

  He needed a plan to help, that was clear. He wasn’t going to be here long, but hopefully it would be enough time to make good on his promise to Cal and help his son.

  “No problem,” he said to Silas as he turned to leave. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them Zeke’s on a spiritual quest or something.”

  But as he left, it wasn’t Zeke that he was thinking about.

  And it wasn’t Connor either.

  It was Astrid James’s cool gray eyes.

  * * *

  Sweat ran into Astrid’s eyes as she put her hands down on her yoga mat and straightened her legs into downward dog.

  “Breathe,” Gwen said softly. “Concentrate on where your energy is going.”

  The community center hot yoga class was halfway through, the little stove in one corner of the large open space throwing out a tremendous amount of heat.

  It wasn’t a large crowd, but enough people turned up every morning to make it worth Gwen’s while. Every class she attended made Astrid proud. Everyone had been resistant when she’d first initiated the classes, but Gwen’s positivity, plus the offer of free coffee and a donut from April’s for every attendee, soon helped things along.

  Of course, the coffee and donut didn’t really go with the whole yoga vibe—Gwen’s words—but Astrid wasn’t going to be picky. If it got people off their butts and doing some exercise, getting joints mobile and muscles stretched, then it was all good.

  She enjoyed the classes herself, leading by example. There was something meditative about them, which was helpful, especially when she had too many other things on her mind.

  Things such as a very handsome, exceedingly charming man, whose warm blue eyes and slow, sexy smile seemed hell-bent on disturbing her peace of mind.

  “Hold,” Gwen said, and began to count.

  The muscles in Astrid’s legs burned and began to shake, but she didn’t move, testing herself. Trying not to think of the tension in her own house the day before.

  She’d dashed home at lunchtime to see if Connor had come home, but he hadn’t. Not for the first time, she’d wished the cell phone reception was more reliable so she could text him or maybe even track him, but he never responded to her texts anyway.

  He’d returned later that day and refused to talk to her about anything, merely taking one look at her stricken face before saying, “I don’t want to talk about it, Mom.”

  She’d known that stubborn cast to his chin, recognized it well; he wouldn’t be pushed. So all she’d said was, “At least tell me you’re okay.”

  He’d sighed and nodded his head. “Yeah. I’m okay.” But there had been a guarded look in his bright blue eyes. As if he didn’t quite trust her anymore.

  That had hurt. But then she supposed she deserved it.

  “Damon is staying in town for a few more days,” she’d told him, not sure what else to say.

  Something had shifted in her son’s gaze and maybe for the first time in her life, she hadn’t been able to read it. Hadn’t been able to tell what was going on in his head at all. Which had scared her. She’d wanted to ask at least a dozen more questions, but he’d only muttered, “Thanks,” before shuffling off to his bedroom and closing the door very firmly.

  “And come down into child’s pose,” Gwen said, dragging Astrid back into the present. “Breathe deep.”

  Her muscles screamed with relief as she came down onto her knees, leaning forward so her forehead was pressed to her mat. Her T-shirt was sticking to her skin, the hot, humid atmosphere in the room embracing her like a warm, sweaty hug.

  “And that’s the end of the class,” Gwen murmured. “Thank you all for coming. Namaste.”

  People shifted slowly, coming to their feet and picking up their mats, the sound of conversation rising.

  Astrid did the same, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Debbie Long, whose husband Carl worked on the trawlers, was preparing to come over, no doubt to talk to her yet again about Carl’s unique collection of beer coasters and did Astrid think that could be something tourists might like.

  Gwen, too, was casting hopeful glances her way as Clare Owen, who ran the local B&B, engaged her in conversation.

  Since a casual conversation with Clare usually lasted a good half hour—the woman couldn’t be direct if her life depended on it—and it didn’t look like she was going to stop talking anytime soon, Astrid walked quickly past to the community center’s doors.

  She didn’t have time to talk to either Debbie or Gwen this morning, not when she still had to look at Kevin’s fishing charter idea, plus the details of Phil’s wildlife sanctuary.

  She was busy. Too busy. And that was good, especially with Connor weighing on her mind.

  Outside, it was a crisp and beautiful morning. With all those mountains around, Deep River got a lot of rain, so it was extra nice when the sun decided to show itself, the deep, intense blue of the sky contrasting sharply with the year-round snow on the peaks that surrounded the town. Almost the same blue, in fact, as the eyes of the man lounging in the gravel area just in front of the community center’s doors.

  Damon.

  He looked tall and broad and delicious dressed in those battered and worn jeans. Today, instead of a T-shirt, he wore a casual black button-down shirt made out of some kind of textured and soft-looking, touchable fabric. The sleeves were rolled up, exposing muscled forearms and strong wrists, and somehow the dark color made his skin look even more golden, his hair a deep shade of caramel, and his eyes…

  Yes, she needed to stop looking now.

  What on earth was he doing here?

  Her heart was beating much faster than it had been during class, her palms sweaty where they clutched at her mat.

  “Good morning, Ms. Mayor.” His voice rolled over her, rich and deep as he approached, his hands in his pockets, his smile slow and sexy. “How was your class?”

  His outrageous good looks made Astrid very conscious of how sweaty and red-faced she was, and that her hair was sticking to the back of her neck. And no doubt her T-shirt to her body, and not in a sexy way.

  Aiden hadn’t liked her appearance to be anything less than perfectly groomed and had always had something to say about it if she wasn’t wearing makeup or a pretty dress. So when she’d come to Deep River, she’d worn nothing but jeans and T-shirts and had defiantly thrown all her makeup away. She never thought about her appearance these days.

  But she was excruciatingly aware of it now, and the same old feelings of discomfort and shame she’d used to feel around Aiden were coming back, winding through her like ivy, clinging to her. She hated it.

  Resisting the urge to touch her hair, she forced the feelings away, holding on to her temper as she came down the wooden steps from the community center’s porch.

  “Good morning, Mr. Fitzgerald,” she said coolly. “To what do I owe the pleasure so bright and early?”

  He gave her a leisurely survey, and she braced herself for the distaste that would no doubt soon show in his expression. Yet it wasn’t distaste that flickered in his eyes but something hotter and far more…appreciative.

  A little jolt of shock pulsed through her. Since when had a man looked at her with appreciat
ion? With heat? The way a man looks at a woman and likes what he sees?

  A long time. She couldn’t remember how long.

  That fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach that she’d felt the day before in the Moose was back, a feminine kind of excitement. A reminder that though she might be done with men, her body was not and it liked this particular man. It liked the heat and appreciation that burned in his eyes.

  She could feel a similar heat in her cheeks and knew she was blushing like a teenager. How intensely annoying. With luck he wouldn’t notice, since she was red as a beet already.

  “I’m here to offer you some help,” he said in that unhurried way he had. “With some of these tourist ideas that the town wants to get off the ground.”

  Astrid blinked in surprise. “How can you help with that?”

  “I know a thing or two about money, and I’m good with investments.” He shrugged those broad shoulders. “Silas thought I could look over them and offer advice.”

  People were starting to come out behind her, the conversation lowering to a startled buzz as the mostly female attendees caught a glimpse of Damon standing like a Hollywood movie star in the middle of the gravel parking area.

  He must have noticed, because he glanced behind her, his smile widening in that warm, genuine way. As if he really was pleased to see them all. “Morning, ladies.”

  A scattering of “mornings” echoed back, including a couple of giggles that were very reminiscent of a pack of teenage girls mooning over the star quarterback.

  And that annoyed her too. Unreasonably.

  “In that case, you really should go to the mayor’s office.” She tried to keep the irritation from her voice. “My office hours are from nine onward.”

  “It’s a Saturday,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be in the office.”

  God, he was so reasonable. He made it impossible for her to sustain any kind of annoyance. Which naturally made her even more irritable.

  It’s not him you’re annoyed at. It’s yourself.

  Oh yes, she was well aware. But knowing that didn’t help one bit, especially when he smiled at her like that, watching her with that warm, steady gaze.

  Trying to get ahold of herself, she pasted on a cool smile. “I can be. But I need to go home and have a shower first.” She started walking past him, determinedly keeping her attention forward. “Meet me at the mayor’s office in fifteen minutes.”

  Much to her intense aggravation, he fell into step beside her. “Not a problem. Though we can just as easily meet at your place. Then you won’t have to—”

  “The mayor’s office.” Astrid stopped walking and gave him a steady look, the thought of him in her actual house alarming for reasons she couldn’t have articulated even to herself. “Fifteen minutes.”

  He studied her for a moment, making her feel even hotter than she already was. “Sure. I’ll get us coffee from April’s. And maybe a couple of donuts too.”

  “I don’t want a donut. I have perfectly good granola at home.”

  “But we’re not meeting at your home. Which means I’ll provide the breakfast.” He lifted a hand and then, quite casually, hooked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You’ll eat a donut and you’ll like it. And then we’ll discuss Deep River’s tourism possibilities.” His hand dropped, his expression becoming serious. “Don’t worry. We won’t talk about Connor if you don’t want to.”

  “Oh, but I—”

  “See you in fifteen, Ms. Mayor.”

  And before she could say a word, he turned and strolled off in the direction of the town center, his hands in his pockets.

  “What is going on with that man?” Debbie murmured from behind her. “He seems sweet on you.”

  Great. The last thing she needed was people thinking that about her and Damon. What the hell had he been thinking, touching her the way he had? In full view of the others?

  Her skin felt tingly and tight where his fingertips had brushed the side of her ear and her heartbeat was racing.

  You liked it.

  Argh. No, she had not liked it. Not in any way. And she was going to have words with him about doing that kind of thing in future. Strong words.

  “No, he’s not,” she said crisply, not looking at Debbie. “He was just…brushing something off of my ear.” Then before Debbie could say anything else, she strode away determinedly.

  Astrid went up the winding gravel road that led to the small scattering of homes sitting on the hillside above the town. Hers was white and wooden and had been built into the side of a rocky bluff, with wooden stairs constructed against the rock face leading up to her front door.

  It wasn’t a big house—none of the houses in Deep River were—but it had an amazing view from the small deck that had been built around the front of it, and that was worth the aggravation of getting groceries up the steps.

  Shutting the front door behind her, she went down the tiny hallway to the large living area with its views over the town and the river beyond.

  Dumping her yoga mat on the old couch that had been pushed up against the wall facing the windows, she went back into the hallway, then stopped in front of Connor’s door. Childish wooden letters spelling his name had been stuck on the wood, but the first O had fallen off.

  She lifted her hand to knock, then dropped it again. Was there any point trying to force a conversation with him? He’d been very clear that he didn’t want to talk to her and he’d always been a kid who didn’t like to be pushed into anything. He had to come to it in his own time. She didn’t know how to broach the topic anyway, and apart from anything else, he was likely still asleep.

  Muttering a curse under her breath, she eventually stepped away and went to have her shower instead.

  Ten minutes later, she found herself debating over clothing choices, which was ridiculous and never normally an issue. She didn’t dress for anyone but herself. Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about the appreciative look in Damon’s sky-blue eyes, or about how much she’d actually liked it, no matter what she told herself.

  Would it really be too bad if she wore something nice? Before she’d had Connor, she used to enjoy dressing up. Putting on some makeup and pretty clothes. Going dancing and having fun with her friends. Then he’d arrived, and there was no time for fun, no money for pretty dresses, and all her friends had disappeared. Being with Aiden had been great initially, until his preference for her being pretty and feminine at all times had become pressure and a stick he used to beat her with, and eventually she’d ended up hating that side of herself.

  It had been that feminine and passionate side that had gotten her pregnant in the first place too, and so even now, she tried to keep it in check wherever possible.

  Still…it wouldn’t be wrong to wear something nice. They would be in her office, so no one else would see and gossip about it. And she wasn’t going to be doing anything ridiculous like going on a date. It would only be…letting herself enjoy a handsome man’s appreciation. That was allowable, surely?

  Astrid went to her dresser and pulled out a drawer, looking through her T-shirts and tops. She wouldn’t go all out—she’d thrown away all her sexy clothing anyway—but she could put something on that she liked, that she knew suited her.

  Pulling out one of her favorites, a light blue T-shirt in a silky fabric that did nice things to her eyes and skin, she put it on, then followed it up with a pair of close-fitting jeans. She brushed her hair until it hung in a straight, glossy, golden fall to her shoulders, then surveyed the meager store of makeup she’d allowed herself a couple of years after she’d come to Deep River. Most of it had dried up or flaked away since she never wore it, but now she regretted not asking Mal to order her some more. Ah well, she’d just have to settle for lip gloss.

  Still, makeup or not, she felt good as she stepped out of the house and made her way back down toward the town
center again, better than she’d felt in a while in fact. And that fizzing excitement gathering in the pit of her stomach only added to it, an excitement she couldn’t pretend wasn’t to do with Damon Fitzgerald.

  She needed to get a handle on herself.

  He was waiting by the entrance to her building when she arrived, holding two coffees and a paper bag in his hands, a folder under one arm. He smiled as she appeared, slow and sexy, making the excitement spread out, effervescent and light.

  “Nice T-shirt,” he murmured. “That color is pretty on you.”

  She flushed and looked away, trying to hide her pleasure that he’d noticed. “Thank you.”

  “I hope you left room for at least one donut.” He waved the bag he was carrying. “In among all that worthy granola.”

  “Well, seeing as I forgot about my worthy granola, I’ll probably take you up on that donut offer.” Fighting the stupid urge to smile at him, she busied herself opening the door, then tried to gesture him up the stairs first. But he only shook his head.

  “My mom was very clear on the rules. Ladies before gentlemen.”

  Astrid couldn’t resist. “And are you, in fact, a gentleman?”

  “Sometimes.” His smile took on a wicked edge, a hot blue spark in his eyes making her breath catch. “And sometimes not.”

  Oh boy…

  Astrid turned away quickly, before she did something very silly like ask him what happened when he wasn’t a gentleman, and went up the stairs to her office.

  Is this really such a good idea? To be alone with him?

  She ignored the thought. Being alone with him was fine. They were going to talk about business and nothing more. It wasn’t as if she was going to throw herself into his arms or anything, not when she barely knew him.

  Stepping into the mayor’s office, she moved over to her desk and sat down, feeling more restrained now that there was a large expanse of wood between them.

  Damon sat in the old wooden chair on the other side of the desk, putting the coffee and donuts down on the desktop. He ripped open the donut bag and took one out, handing it to her. “Here. Quality brain food.”