Come Home to Deep River

by Jackie Ashenden

  He shouldn’t have been happy with that, but he was. It pleased a very male, very possessive part of him. The hungry part he knew he needed to get a lock on. “That’s not lame,” he said, probably doing a very poor job of hiding just how much that pleased him. “You’re choosy.”

  “Not really.” She pulled a face. “I didn’t have that much to choose from.”

  Surprise filled him, and he didn’t bother hiding it. “Seriously? You’re gorgeous, Hope. You must have had guys lining up for a chance with you.”

  “Not really.” She stroked her hands absently over his shoulders. “Bit difficult to find a decent partner when you own the bar and have a reputation for tossing people out when they cause trouble.” She hesitated. “Plus it’s a small town, and people always have something to say when you hook up with someone.”

  Oh yeah, he knew that. He remembered all too well the kinds of gossip that went around about his father. Most of it was benign, and there were more than a few people who checked in on Si just to make sure he was okay. The town had looked out for him in its own way.

  But there would always be gossip. That was part of the deal.

  “Did that bother you?” he asked. “I wouldn’t have thought you cared about gossip.”

  An expression he couldn’t quite read crossed her face. “It’s all very well not to care if you don’t live here. But when you’re staying put and you manage a place that a lot of townspeople meet at, then yeah, it did bother me. Mom had to put up with all of that when she was pregnant with me, and I didn’t want to have to deal with it myself.”

  Okay, so that made it clearer. Of course she wouldn’t want to leave herself open to an experience like her mother’s.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “Though that was a few years ago. People aren’t quite as judgmental these days.”

  “Maybe not. But I still didn’t want to have to deal with it. Even if the gossip isn’t malicious, it’s still annoying. And I didn’t want the town looking over my shoulder, anyway.”

  There was a flat note in her voice that made him study her face intently, looking for what he didn’t know. She’d had one partner in thirteen years… No one to touch her. No one to hold her. Had anyone told her she was beautiful? Had anyone ever let her know that she was sexy?

  Ah, but he knew the answer to that already.

  No one had.

  Something ached in his chest. God, he hated the thought of her here on her own. Lonely. Because she must have been lonely. She’d always been so passionate, and that didn’t just disappear. But she’d buried it, locked it away behind that prickly, tough exterior.

  And she wasn’t the only one who’d locked down a part of themselves. He’d done the same thing.

  But right here, right now, they didn’t need to keep those pieces of themselves hidden away, did they? Not with each other. With each other, they could be themselves completely.

  “You don’t need to worry about the town now,” he said, staring down into her eyes. “What goes on between you and me isn’t any of their business. And for the record, I don’t care that you run the Moose, or that you throw people out who cause trouble.” He ran his thumb across her lower lip. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the most beautiful woman in the entire universe, not to mention the sexiest, and I’m not letting you out of this bed until it’s time for me to go back to Juneau.”

  She liked that, he could tell, because she blushed adorably. “Well, okay then.”

  He shifted his hands, cupping her face, letting her see how utterly serious he was. “I mean it, sweetheart. You’re going to be sleeping with me here every night, got it? So if you don’t want that, you’d better tell me now so we’re both clear.”

  Hope stared at him for a second, not saying anything. And he found he’d tensed up because if she didn’t want that, then he wasn’t sure what he would do.

  But then she said, “I want that, Si. I really want that.” There was no mistaking the certainty in those words. No mistaking the longing he could hear in them either.

  “Good,” he said huskily, the ache in his chest intensifying for some reason. “Then that’s what’ll happen.”

  Then he leaned down and kissed her, making good on his promise.

  Chapter 13

  Hope came out of April’s carrying a couple of paper bags along with two coffees, making her way along the boardwalk beside the river to the bench where she’d sat with Silas the first morning he’d arrived.

  He was sitting there waiting for her, his long legs outstretched, his hands behind his head, his attention on the water in front of him, and for a second she paused, staring at him. He sat very still, a big, powerful presence. But a peaceful, restful one. She’d often compared him to one of the mountains that surrounded the town, silent and monumental yet protective too. Some people found mountains oppressive, but she never had. They were a defense, a barrier between the town and the rest of the world, and she liked that feeling. It was comforting.

  He was comforting. She’d found that when they’d been teenagers, his silent presence was like a beam holding her up, supporting her, and she realized, almost with a shock, that she felt the same way now.

  That could be a problem.

  But no, it wouldn’t be a problem. She wouldn’t let it be a problem. Sure, she felt relaxed with him in a way she hadn’t felt with anyone else in a long time, even going so far as to let her guard down, allowing herself to want and to be given what she wanted. Except only in bed. That’s as far as she’d go. Out of it was a whole different ball game.

  He’d told her the previous night, before she’d drifted off to sleep in his arms, that he needed to discuss with her what he’d found out from talking to people. So that morning they’d decided to meet for lunch on the boardwalk beside the river.

  She supposed it might make people gossip to see them sitting together, but they were already gossiping. Besides, having lunch together wasn’t unusual. They were old friends, after all.

  Except her mother had given her a suspicious look as Hope had found her way into the kitchen that morning, though Angela didn’t say anything. And it was a good thing that Angela didn’t concern herself with the Moose because she might have had an observation to make about how Axel was behind the bar for the second night in a row.

  Silas turned his head just then, and his green-gold eyes met hers and he smiled. And her heart fluttered in her chest like a wild bird, making her nearly spill the coffees she held.

  Stupid. So he had a beautiful smile. So what?

  She ignored the flutter, moving over to the bench and sitting down beside him. “Didn’t think you’d mind if I bought lunch.”

  His smile deepened, lighting a flame in his eyes, making the fluttering even worse. “No. Especially not if it’s one of those pies again.”

  “It is.” She handed over a bag and one of the coffees, trying her best not to brush her fingers with his, because she was pretty sure she’d get coffee everywhere if she did that. God, was this reaction to him ever going to stop? They’d been burning up the sheets for two nights now and she’d thought the need for him would ease. But it wasn’t easing. If anything, she thought it might be getting worse, which couldn’t happen.

  So stop, then.

  She didn’t think she could, though. And the only way to make herself feel comfortable with that decision was the knowledge that this was all temporary. He was going to leave again very soon, so really, what did it matter if she had him every night? What did it matter if the need got worse? By the time he was ready to leave Deep River, they’d have gotten it out of their systems and it would be all good.

  Sure, tell yourself that.

  Hope ignored that thought, taking a sip of her coffee instead, the scalding liquid burning its way down her throat, burning the doubt right out of her.

  “So,” she said, “tell me what’s been going on.”
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  “Well, most people aren’t happy with the thought of big oil coming in here and taking over.” Silas leaned back and made a start on his pie. “Which I’d pretty much expected, since this town isn’t big on being told what to do by a bunch of rich suits.”

  “You said most people.”

  Silas finished chewing and swallowed. “Yeah, there’re another few who want the money. And it’s not completely selfish. Mike needs to care for his mom, and there’s a couple of others who struggle with covering their bills, especially over the winter. They can see the good side of the oil money, which is opportunities for the town in terms of employment. There are a few vacant places around here, which I didn’t know about.”

  Hope frowned, because she’d known that a couple of people had moved away and that no one had taken over the leases, but she hadn’t thought about why that might be. “Has there been some difficulty finding people to take the leases over?”

  Silas nodded. “Cal couldn’t find anyone, or so Mike said, and I believe him. He didn’t have any reason to lie about that.”

  “Cal never said anything to you?” Hope asked, taking another sip of her coffee, more than a little puzzled because he’d never said anything to her either.

  “No, he didn’t. Then again, I’d made it pretty clear I didn’t want to talk about Deep River, so that probably had something to do with it.” An expression of regret flickered over his handsome face, and Hope put her hand on his thigh, wanting to give him comfort of some kind.

  He didn’t seem to find it surprising, covering hers with his own in what seemed like an automatic gesture. “I shouldn’t have shut him out like that. Especially if he was having problems. I just…” He stopped.

  “You just what?”

  Silas looked away, out over the water, but he didn’t let go of her hand. “I didn’t want to be reminded of this place. Or of everything I left behind.”

  Her mouth went dry; she knew what the implications of that were. He meant her, didn’t he? He didn’t want to be reminded of her.

  A thread of guilt pulled tight inside her at what she’d said to him years ago, how she’d told him not to bother staying, and he must have sensed it because he said suddenly, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Like you told me, we can’t change what happened. You had your reasons for refusing me, just like I had mine for leaving. But yeah, I didn’t want to be reminded. So I guess Cal just thought I didn’t want to hear it.”

  She swallowed, the coffee in her cup burning against her fingertips. “Okay, so Cal didn’t tell you about the vacancies. He didn’t tell me about them either.” She paused. “Do you think that’s why he was prospecting for the oil? To see if he could attract people to the town again?”

  Silas finally moved his hand from hers, grabbing his coffee from the bench beside him and taking a sip. “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what happened. God knows what his eventual plans were, but I guess that’s not his problem anymore. It’s ours.”

  Hope let out a breath. “Mom’s pretty fixed on selling the lease. She’s bitter about the town in a way I hadn’t realized she still held on to. And she as good as told me she doesn’t care what happens to it, since she won’t be here.”

  Silas’s green gaze roved over her. “Is that really all there is to it?”

  She didn’t particularly want to tell him that no, it wasn’t. Especially since the idea of college, now that her mother had mentioned Hope using her as an excuse to stay, had stuck in her brain like a particularly annoying splinter.

  But she didn’t want to reveal that just yet, not when she didn’t know what she was going to do—if anything. Even if she did decide to leave, she still wasn’t going to let her mother sign the Moose over to some oil guy, if it was an oil guy. No, she’d have to find someone who was prepared to pay her a fair price for the Moose’s lease, who wouldn’t then turn around and sell the mineral rights to someone else.

  So all she said was, “Yeah, pretty much. I guess it means that for her it’s the money, not the oil, that’s important.”

  He was silent, studying her in that focused way he had that made her feel a little vulnerable at the same time it made her feel like the center of the world. “Mike said that too. He didn’t care so much about the oil as the money and opportunities that came from it.”

  The idea she’d had the day before, that had gotten lost under thoughts of college and Silas, suddenly bobbed back to the surface again. “So, what?” She stared back at him. “We find something else that delivers the same thing to the town but that we have a say over. That doesn’t involve signing rights over to a bunch of rich guys from the city.”

  The smile that turned Silas’s mouth this time was like the sun coming out, warm and bright, making her want to bask in it like a cat. “Great minds think alike,” he said. “That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking too.”

  And she found herself smiling back, excitement fizzing through her. An excitement she hadn’t felt for years—the thrill of a challenge, of a future full of possibilities, and not just an endless procession of responsibilities and things she had to do.

  “Got any ideas?” she asked. “I mean, for this place, obviously tourism is the key. I got the numbers off Sandy yesterday to get an idea of how many people visit every year, and there were a few. There’s potential there.”

  Silas finished up the pie and sat back, cradling his coffee, and she could see the same excitement she was feeling gleaming in his eyes. “I talked to Kevin and Mike yesterday, helped Kev fix his boat, and we got to talking about all those hiking trails in the mountains. There’re a few beginner trails and some for experienced hikers, but Kev said they don’t get many people walking ’em because not many people know they’re there.”

  Excitement bubbled up inside her like soda from a shaken bottle. “We could run some kind of promotion, get people to see what there is here. I mean, that’s what I was thinking yesterday. We’ve got people who could take tourists up the river, since there’s some lovely scenery up there.” Her brain ticked over, thinking about the places she and Cal and Silas used to enjoy going to. “Like the swimming hole and Bride Falls.”

  Silas was grinning. “Fishing charters. Taking people out to the coast. And then sightseeing around the islands.”

  “Oh yes!” She put her coffee down on the bench and turned to him. “And what about Phil’s place?” Filthy Phil, the town eccentric, had a lease that encompassed a big area up in the back of the town, with lots of bush. He’d turned it into an animal sanctuary. “We could make his sanctuary official. He’s got all kinds of wildlife up there, and tourists might like to see some genuine Alaskan animals.”

  The gleam in Silas’s eyes got brighter. “It won’t be enough revenue to match oil money, not initially. But there’s potential there.”

  “And the best part about it is that Deep River is in control of it. We decide what happens and how to make it work for us.” Anticipation coiled inside her, along with the excitement. “This could work, Si. This could be really good for the town.” More things occurred to her. “Harry could teach some survivalist workshops, and there’s also a few others who might like to teach climbing skills. We have so many people here who could offer their expertise to tourists and hunters and others. Oh, yes, and maybe when you get back to Juneau, you could look around for anyone with piloting skills who might want to come out here to offer scenic flights.”

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment, watching her, the appreciation in his expression making something glow hot in the center of her chest. “Those are fantastic ideas, Hope. But then you’ve always been good at planning stuff.” He reached out suddenly and cupped her cheek, the warmth of his hand against her skin sending a shockwave of heat through her. “I’m glad I’m signing this over to you, because the town could not be in better hands.”

  And just like that, her excitement came to a shuddering halt. Because she’d forgotten ab
out how he was intending to sign over ownership to her. And she could feel that responsibility now like a millstone around her neck, pulling her down, suffocating her.

  The feeling was familiar; she’d felt the same way the day her grandfather had died and she’d realized that not only did she have her mother to look after but the Moose as well. That she couldn’t leave Deep River.

  And all her dreams of a different life had crashed and burned.

  She pulled away abruptly, looking down at her hands tightly clasped in her lap.

  You’d better tell him you’re having second thoughts.

  Something inside her clenched tight at that, an instinctive reaction. Because she wasn’t, was she?

  You are. Come on. You know Mom was right. And not thinking about it isn’t going to make those feelings go away.

  Hope took a breath. And yes, those feelings were still there. Those plans for the future still burning as brightly as they had years ago. And all the excuses she was using not to do them were the same too.

  Her mother had been right. She’d been using the Moose, using her mother’s mental health as reasons not to leave, not to go out and take the future she wanted for herself with both hands. And she wasn’t quite sure why.

  A memory hit her then of a conversation she’d had once with her grandfather, when she’d told him she wanted to travel like he did, see the world like he had. And he’d smiled at her and shaken his head. “Why would you want to do that?” he’d asked. “I’ve seen the world, Hope. It’s got nothing to offer you that you can’t get right here.”

  She’d always thought her grandfather was wrong. That everything she needed wasn’t here, because if it had been, she wouldn’t be wanting to leave, would she? And then he’d died and she’d taken on the Moose, taken on looking after her mother, telling herself that maybe he was right. That maybe what she wanted was here after all. And it was something that she’d been telling herself for years.