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would have been to ignore the letter the lawyer had handed to him as the will reading had ended and Silas and Morgan had walked out. The letter was for Damon only, the lawyer had said. Mr. West was most clear that no one else should know about it.

Already Damon had had a suspicion about what was in that letter, and he’d been proved right. Look after my boy, Caleb had instructed him. See to his future.

Being responsible for another child was pretty much the last thing on earth Damon wanted, and walking away would have been a hell of a lot easier. But he’d never walk away from a friend, especially one who’d fought beside him.

He still wasn’t sure how he was going to “look out” for Connor, not when he had to be back in LA, but maybe he and Astrid could come to some kind of arrangement.

She was regarding him with that same cool look, yet a subtle tension had gathered around her. Those exquisitely carved features had hardened, her gray eyes solidifying from mist into solid steel. Her irises had a rim of dark charcoal and a dark charcoal center too, the color highlighted by the silver-gold of her lashes. She wore a plain white T-shirt, which somehow enhanced her snow-queen vibe.

“Okay,” Damon said at last. “Here’s the deal. Personally, I don’t want anything to do with your son. But you should know I have an obligation to fulfill.”

A whole host of emotions flickered over the mayor’s face, but they were gone so fast, Damon couldn’t tell what they were.

She leaned back in her old, creaky wooden chair. “A personal obligation,” she echoed. “Don’t tell me. You’re here on behalf of Caleb.”

Smart woman. But then it wasn’t all that difficult to work out. He was one of Cal’s buddies and now Cal was dead; it was logical for her to assume some provision had been made for his son.

“I didn’t do the right thing, Damon,” Cal had said that night when they were both on watch, the moonlight bright over the rocky desert that surrounded them. “When Astrid got pregnant, I told her I didn’t want anything to do with a kid.” His friend’s face had been shadowed, his voice quiet. “I know I was only seventeen, but it was a cowardly thing to do, and I regretted it. So when she called me out of the blue, wanting a place to stay, I couldn’t say no. She’s in Deep River with him now, and I’ve spent the last couple of years trying to make it up to them.”

The memory was an uncomfortable one, bringing with it other things that Damon didn’t want to remember, so he pushed it away, concentrating instead on the woman sitting behind the desk.

“I am,” he said simply, because in the end, simple was best. “I got a letter after Cal died. It went just to me, none of the other guys know about it. And all it said was that I had to make sure Connor was looked after and his future was taken care of. So that’s why I’m here.”

Astrid was silent, her expression unreadable.

Abruptly, she shoved back the chair with a screech and stood up, moving over to the window that looked out over the boardwalk and the river. She stood there with her back to him, the sunlight falling over her blond hair, turning it brilliant gold. Tension rolled off her in waves, as well as a bristly kind of energy. Like a cat sensing a threat to its territory and raising its fur.

He had the oddest urge to lift his hand and stroke her to soothe her.

Hell, why had Cal chosen him to handle this? Silas would have been the better choice. Silas was a man of few words, but he knew how to do serious. Plus, he was also from Deep River and knew how the place worked. He knew Astrid too.

You know why Cal chose you. Because you were once a father.

Once. Not now.

The dull ache that he always felt when he remembered Ella shifted behind his breastbone, but he ignored it. He didn’t have time for old memories.

“I’m sorry,” he said into the silence. “I know this is a—”

“Shock?” she finished for him without turning around. “Yes, you could say that.”

Damon studied her tense back. Cal hadn’t offered much in the way of information about her, only that she’d lived in Ketchikan and they’d both gone to the same high school, getting together at a party when they’d both been seventeen. He’d refused to take responsibility for the pregnancy, telling not a single soul about it, hiding it from everyone, including his parents. Then years later Astrid had contacted him again in dire straits and he’d given her and Connor a place to stay. Cal hadn’t mentioned what those dire straits were, only that Astrid had never forgiven him for abandoning her and his son. Which meant that trying to make up for his mistake had been difficult.

Given her reaction just now, Damon had a suspicion that it was still going to be difficult and he hoped it wouldn’t end up becoming a problem. He really couldn’t stay here any longer.

Come on, what did you think was going to happen? Did you really think this would be easy? You should have tackled this days ago.

His jaw tightened. Yeah, he should have, but he hadn’t. And actually, what he’d hoped was that Astrid would smile, tell him she and Connor were fine, and send him on his way. That would have been the best outcome all around, especially given what was happening with his mom.

Except it didn’t look like that would be the case.

He stayed silent, giving her a couple of moments to process what he’d said and trying to quell his own impatience. To pass the time, he took a look around the cluttered little office, noting the ramshackle wooden bookcases pushed up against the walls and the old-fashioned metal filing cabinets, the

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