Deep River Promise by Jackie Ashenden (cat reading book txt) 📕

she had. She’d just hoped it would have happened when the timing was better. Not that the timing with this particular secret was ever going to be better.

“Your theory based on what?” She didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm, letting her anger at herself get the better of her. “Your twenty minutes of being alone with my son?”

He irritatingly refused the bait, merely shrugging one powerful shoulder, making the blue cotton of his T-shirt pull tight across it in a distracting way. “Fair call. But I was a teenage boy once. And my mother was a single parent. And I was what you’d call overly responsible, so I have a bit of insight.”

He was so calm and measured. It irritated the crap out of her. “You don’t have to placate me. I’m not a horse you need to soothe.”

“When I start offering you carrots and sugar cubes, then you can start to worry about me placating you.” Damon’s smile deepened, amusement lighting his eyes. “Anyway, so far I haven’t offered any of my horses whisky.”

Damn him. She didn’t want to be jollied out of her temper. She didn’t want him being nice to her. What she wanted was a fight, which was never a good sign.

She kept her temper on a tight rein these days, ever since Aiden. Getting angry and hurt about the things he’d said to her only made him worse, so she’d gotten very good at ignoring them. Cool and calm had been the way to handle him, and cool and calm she’d ended up being.

And she’d stayed that way even in Deep River, because though the people here had never intimidated her or been cruel the way Aiden had been, it always paid to be careful. Especially with men, because men were unpredictable at the best of times, and most especially when they were being nice. When Aiden had been nice to her, it was always because he was building up to some cruelty he was going to dump on her later or because he’d needed something from her for Connor.

Damon probably wasn’t like Aiden, but who could tell? You could never judge a book by its cover, no matter how pretty that cover was.

“I’ll bear that in mind,” she said, pushing the irritation away and trying to find her usual cool manner.

She didn’t want to ask him about his theory. She didn’t want to acknowledge that he might have an insight into Connor that she, as his mother, didn’t. But it would be stupid not to even listen to him just because she was feeling irritated. Especially when that irritation was more about herself and the way she’d handled things with Connor than it was about Damon. Or Aiden for that matter.

Best not to give in to her temper. Treat this the way she treated most issues that cropped up as mayor: be objective and don’t let her personal feelings get in the way.

“Okay.” She took another sip of the whisky. It really was very good. “Tell me then.”

“Well,” he said without a hint of smugness, “it’s like this. Your boy’s helping people and being protective of the town because I’m pretty sure he feels it’s his responsibility. Caleb used to own Deep River, but he’s gone now, and so Connor’s trying to fill his father’s shoes. And he’s got even more pressure on him because Deep River has been given to a bunch of strangers who don’t know the town or its people.” Damon’s blue gaze was very steady. “That’s got to hurt. He’s Cal’s son, but Cal didn’t leave him Deep River. Cal left Deep River to Silas and me and Zeke.”

Astrid frowned, turning the words over in her head, thinking.

As much as she hated to admit it, what he said did make a certain amount of sense. Connor had started all this behavior pretty much straight after Cal had been killed, and she hadn’t really thought much about why, at least not immediately. She’d been too shocked and not a little bit grief-stricken. She and Cal didn’t have any kind of close relationship, but she’d been upset for Connor’s sake, as well as battling her own guilt.

Connor had always loved this place, even before Cal died. Once he’d gotten over the heartache of being parted from Aiden, he’d fallen in love with it right from the very first moment they’d motored across the river on Kev’s ferry.

It was as if he’d come home.

The dual spikes of grief and guilt stuck inside her, Damon’s words sinking in. Oh hell, he was right, wasn’t he? Connor viewed this place as his and he was afraid for it. Afraid about the oil. Afraid it had been given to a bunch of strange men he didn’t know and didn’t trust.

Afraid he wouldn’t be able to protect it.

Like he wasn’t able to protect you.

Astrid’s heart clenched tight in her chest. She was conscious of Damon’s gaze resting on her, a flood of warm blue surrounding her. And maybe it should have felt like an extra pressure, but it didn’t. His was a very calm presence, projecting steadiness, reassuring in a way she couldn’t put her finger on.

Was that why she’d already told him far more than she’d meant to about Connor?

She wasn’t used to it, not from a man, and it made her feel edgy and resistant. Men weren’t to be trusted. Her father, who’d been the most appalled by her pregnancy, had insisted she leave. Cal had abandoned her. Aiden had manipulated and hurt her.

They’d all betrayed her in one way or another, and though over the five years she’d been in Deep River she’d gradually come to trust the people here, it hadn’t been easy.

So why she should feel that she could trust a guy she’d only just met, and a stupidly attractive guy at that, she had no idea. But she resented it.

She’d made some bad choices in the past; she didn’t want to make any more.

“I guess it makes sense,” she said reluctantly.