Deep River Promise Jackie Ashenden (best life changing books .txt) 📖

Connor had been mad about Damon talking to Astrid, which mean the kid was worried for his mother.

Someone has hurt these two and badly.

The thought sat in his head, the edge keen as a razor blade. The kid’s protectiveness and worry, his fear—they were all giveaways. Astrid was more guarded and reserved, and there was a wariness to her. She radiated “only so far and no farther.” Yet there were hints of a more passionate nature underneath all that cool, little flickers of fire and electricity.

People hid stuff all the time, and he knew that better than most.

These two were hiding something. And if he wanted to know what it was, he would have to go carefully.

Why do you want to know?

A redundant question. He had a promise to keep and if that involved finding out what had hurt a boy and his mother, then he would. And maybe he’d hurt the son of a bitch responsible in turn, because he had no problem with that. No problem with that whatsoever.

“You said you’d leave yesterday,” Connor said. “And you didn’t.”

“No. I didn’t,” Damon agreed. “Thought I’d stay in case you wanted to talk to me about your dad.”

“You mean you stayed for me?” Connor looked frankly disbelieving. “Why?”

“The truth? Because your father asked me to.”

Connor’s face went blank. “What?”

“You got a letter from your dad and so did I. He wanted me to look out for you, make sure you were okay. So that’s why I’m here.”

Connor stared at him for a moment longer, then glanced away, out over the water, holding his coffee in his hands. “I didn’t ask to be looked out for.”

“I know.”

“He could have looked out for me himself.” Connor’s voice deepened with hurt. “He knew where I was.”

Caleb, you asshole.

Damon had the strangest urge to put a hand on Connor’s back, a comfort and a support, just to let him know he was there. But he knew the kid wouldn’t welcome it, so instead he said, “You know why he didn’t, don’t you?”

Connor shook his head, his jaw tense, his attention still out over the water.

“He was ashamed,” Damon said. “He was ashamed of the way he treated your mom when she got pregnant. He…ran away. He was only two years older than you are now, so he was very young. Over the years, he came to realize what an awful thing he’d done, and so when Astrid needed some help, he gave it to her. And to you too.”

“But he didn’t want to see me. He knew where I was and he didn’t come.”

“Like I said, he was ashamed. You know what Caleb West was to this town. I think he was afraid of what people might think of him.”

Connor looked down, saying nothing.

“He was wrong,” Damon went on softly. “He should have said something to you. He could have done that at least.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t.” Connor took an angry bite of his donut.

Well, the kid might be angry, but at least he wasn’t going to waste a good donut.

Damon let the silence hang for another couple of moments, trying to think about how he could help, what he could do. It seemed as if all the adults in Connor’s life—and some of them for good reasons, no doubt—hadn’t been very clear with him. They’d kept information back. Which mean that right now what the kid really needed was to be told what was going on.

It wasn’t his place to do that, but he had a duty to Cal. And who else did Connor have to talk to who already knew his secret and who knew his father? No one. And Damon was neutral ground too, which helped. Kid wouldn’t have to worry about getting angry with him because he had no horse in this race.

“Your mom was protecting you, I think,” Damon murmured. “By not telling you who he was.”

“How is that protecting me?”

“Cal didn’t want anyone knowing he had a kid. And I guess your mom wanted to protect you from that.” Damon paused. “Every boy wants their father to be a hero, right? Running away from responsibility and denying that you have a kid isn’t exactly heroic. I suspect your mom wanted better for you than that.”

Connor stared out over the water. He finished the donut, then sipped at his coffee, his posture stiff, his jaw tight. “Mom told me once that my dad was a soldier and he was fighting a lot. And that one day she’d tell me all about him. When I was old enough.”

Damon thought about the wariness in Astrid, that prickling energy when he’d talked to her about Connor. Complicated. All of this was complicated.

“Your father was a flawed guy,” he said, sipping at his coffee too, keeping things neutral. “But at heart, he was a good one. And he was trying to make up for mistakes he’d made when he was very young.” Caleb’s haunted face from that night on watch drifted in his memory, full of regret and grief yet also determination. “I think he knew he’d left it too late, but he still wanted to do the right thing by you.”

“If he’d wanted to do the right thing, he could have left the town to me instead of you assholes.”

“Ah.” Damon tried not to grin at the boy’s aggrieved tone, something in him easing slightly since being aggrieved was better than hurt. “Is that why you’re running around helping people? Throwing yourself between the town and me? You trying to protect this place?”

Connor glanced at him, a fierce expression on his face. “Of course. My dad might not have left it to me, but it’s still my responsibility. You’re a stranger. You’re all strangers. I don’t know what you’re going to do, so someone has to make sure that Deep River stays safe.”

Sympathy gripped him. Connor was an intense, determined kid with a highly developed sense of what was right and wrong. A good kid, as Astrid had told him.

Damon met his