Come Home to Deep River

by Jackie Ashenden

  He hadn’t wanted to tell everyone what they should decide, only present options to them. People had to make up their own minds, since if the whole town wasn’t on board, this idea wouldn’t work. And he wanted it to work.

  Hope stood off to the side, leaning against the wall to his right. He’d asked her if she wanted to speak, but she told him that since she wasn’t staying, she really didn’t have a right to. He hadn’t felt comfortable with that, since a lot of the ideas had come from her, but she’d been adamant.

  There had been a moment in the Moose, after she’d found him and Angela making a few last adjustments to the agreement to buy the Moose’s lease, where he’d thought he’d caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes.

  He hadn’t expected her to arrive suddenly like that, especially given how she’d been avoiding him, and then she’d gotten angry. But he knew she was only angry because she was hurt, and the fact that she was having regrets was understandable. He hadn’t wanted her to change her mind though. It was important she leave, get that degree she’d always planned on. That was the whole reason he’d taken on the buying of the Moose’s lease, after all.

  He’d been extremely glad he’d done that, even though it was going to cost him, not to mention cost Wild Alaska, but he’d worry about that later. Because then Hope had let him comfort her and the feel of her warm, soft body against his had driven nearly every other thought from his brain.

  She’d forgotten about distance then—they both had—and just as well, since their time together was already limited and soon to get even more so.

  Si let his gaze rest on her for a long moment, the lights of the hall glossing her auburn hair. She was in her usual jeans and red-plaid button-down, nothing special yet she burned brighter than any other person in the hall. Her sharp, precise features were serious as she spoke to Mal, but there was an intensity burning in her lovely dark eyes, that fire that lived inside her.

  It’s going to hurt when she leaves.

  It would probably hurt worse than he expected. But he’d dealt with the loss of her once before and he could again. And he wasn’t going to do anything that would hold her back, that was for sure.

  He had something special planned for after the meeting to celebrate the Moose and her decision to leave, plus his own decision to stay, and he hoped she would like it. He liked doing things for her since he had a suspicion that not many people did.

  “Shall we get this show on the road?” Astrid walked up to him, her teenage son in tow. He’d spoken to her about his and Hope’s plans a day or two earlier, and she’d been supportive. Though she’d wanted to know where the money for some of the promotion was going to come from, and that was still to be decided. Now he’d promised to buy the Moose money was going to be in limited supply, and he needed to get together a plan for raising more capital.

  “Yeah, do it,” he said.

  Astrid nodded and called the townspeople to order, her cool voice cutting through all the conversations, and slowly everyone quieted.

  “All right,” she said, her hands on her hips. “So we all know why we’re here. We’ve had a week or so to think about this oil business, and we need to make a decision on how to approach it as a group. Because this oil guy who’s been calling around is probably going to call around again, and we need to know how we’re going to handle it.” Astrid paused and gave everyone a stern look. “He won’t be the only one, either. Things could get dicey around here in the near future, and the only way Deep River is going to survive it is if we all stand together.”

  Another murmur ran through the hall like the wind through the trees, a susurration of approval. Which was a good sign.

  “Okay,” Astrid said. “I’ll hand you over to Silas since he’s got a few things to tell you.”

  Si folded his arms and gazed out at the attentive faces turned toward him, and this time he knew every one. Because over the past week, he’d talked to them and he knew their stories. Knew their names. And that satisfied him on a deep level he hadn’t been previously aware of.

  “I’ve been talking to most of you over the last few days,” he said, addressing them all. “And I think no one likes the idea of a bunch of strangers coming in and telling everyone what to do, people who don’t understand us and the way we do things around here. But also, there’s been some concerns raised about the vacant leases that have cropped up and the fact that we’re not getting in any new blood. Some concerns, too, about finances and how to address them. Because let’s face it, who doesn’t like having some cash?”

  Several people nodded in agreement at this, including Mike and not a few others who hadn’t been into the idea of selling their leases. Everyone was worried about feeding their families, no matter where their allegiances lay.

  “I have some things to say about that,” Si went on. “But first you all need to know something. I’ve decided to stay in Deep River, which means I’m going to be holding on to the ownership of the Wests’ property.” He paused, scanning the hall. “Anyone got a problem with that?”

  “As long as it doesn’t affect the leaseholders, why would we?” someone piped up from the back.

  “It won’t,” Si assured them. “Leaseholders have all the legal rights to their property, and the limitations on the ownership are very clear. Basically, I’m prohibited from selling any of Deep River, even if I wanted to. And let’s be clear, I don’t want to. Which is why I’m staying. I can’t legally be an absentee owner, and since this place is important to me, I’ve got no choice but to return here to live.”

  “Great,” someone off to Mike’s left grunted. “But where does that leave us?”

  “That leads me into the next thing I want to talk to you about,” Si replied. “I think the town needs some future-proofing. We need to make sure people have a reason to stay here, not take their skills and their knowledge off somewhere else. Or if they do, they come back. And to do that, we need to create some opportunities.”

  “Sounds good,” Mal said, stroking his beard. “But what opportunities are you talking about? It’s not as if this place is a hotbed of industry.”

  “Hey,” one of the fishermen said, only partly kidding, “I’m right here.”

  Mal waved a hand. “You know what I mean.”

  A ripple of laughter went through the hall.

  Si nodded. “Good question. I’m not saying we don’t have things to offer already, but what I’m getting from people is that we need more.”

  “If it’s more ideas like Mike’s luxury motel, then I’m out,” one naysayer at the back shouted, prompting a few muttered comments, both in agreement and not.

  “Yeah, that’s something we need to discuss,” Si said, raising his voice. “Because if we get one guy calling, we’re going to get others. And they’re all going to be after one thing. It’s too late to pretend we can’t change, that we don’t want to change, because change is coming for us whether we like it or not.” He paused, giving the hall another scan. “But what we can do is take charge of that change, be in control of it, make it ours.”

  “How?” Harry asked bluntly, sitting in the middle of the hall with Gwen, his hippie girlfriend.

  “Well,” Si said, meeting his gaze, “there’s something Deep River has that the rest of the world doesn’t. And it’s not treasure under the ground. It’s all around us. It’s the environment we have here. There’s magic in this place.” His chest suddenly felt tight, but he needed to say it, so he forced the rest out. “I lost that magic as a kid, but coming back here helped me find it again, and I think that’s what we could share with people. I think that’s what we could use to get people to come here and stay. Deep River is a haven. A place of acceptance, and I think that’s what we could offer.”

  People were nodding at this, approval rippling around the hall.

  “That’s all very well, but what about money?” Mike asked bluntly.

 
; A few others muttered, but Silas waved them to be quiet, and they settled.

  “Like I said, we can use what we already have, though if you’re after immediate gains, you’ll have to be patient. It’s a long-term plan that’s going to be more sustainable than oil drilling, and even more important it’ll be something the town has control over.” He looked away from Mike to include everyone. “I’m talking tourism here.”

  Several people immediately started to speak, but again he silenced them with a wave of his hand. “I know you don’t want strangers, but like I said, leases are falling vacant and aren’t being renewed. People are moving away, and hey, I was one of those people. Do we really want the town to disappear?”

  There was a silence, but it wasn’t one of disagreement, since the question was pretty much rhetorical. Of course no one wanted it to disappear.

  “So we need to do something, and we need to use what we have, and tourism is the most logical thing. We can run sightseeing tours, wilderness skills workshops, fishing charters, climbing trips, hiking, animal sanctuaries, all kinds of stuff. And that’s just the start. We have people here who have skills, who can share those skills with others too, and I think that’s where our strengths are. In our environment and in ourselves.”

  More silence as people took this in, most nodding in agreement.

  Silas went on, “Like I said, it won’t mean instant money, but it’s a start.” He did another scan of the hall. “Now, if you have more ideas, then I want to hear them. Anything you can think of that we can use to promote Deep River and get people interested. This should be a town effort.”

  “What about the oil guys?” Harry asked. “What do we do about them?”

  “We need a plan, but basically I need everyone to be in agreement about it first.” He glanced at Astrid. “The mayor here decided that the best way to make a decision on this is to vote. And to make it a private ballot.”

  “Anyone got any issues with this?” Astrid asked.

  No one did. It was the way they decided most things in Deep River, including voting on who got to be mayor. Mal would put a ballot box up on the counter at the market, and people could come in and vote.

  “Okay,” Mal said. “I’ll get the box up tomorrow. How long have people got to decide?”

  “Two days,” Astrid said crisply. “We need to decide this ASAP.”

  No one protested, and soon the meeting was called to a close, people filing out of the hall talking furiously as they went.

  Hope came up to him, her dark eyes shining with approval, and a little jolt of pleasure hit him, because he liked her looking at him like that. Liked it far too much.

  “That was good, Si,” she said. “I think it went well. You gave them a lot to think about.”

  “I hope so.” He quelled his instinctive urge to take her hand and hold it. “Hey, you got some time now?”

  Her smile turned wicked. “Why? You have something in mind?”

  “Yes, and save that thought for later. Right now, though, there’s something else I want to talk to you about.”

  Her smile faded. “Oh?”

  A couple of people were waiting near the door, and he knew they wanted to talk to him. “Can you meet me down by the river? I’ll deal with this lot first.”

  A momentary ripple of puzzlement crossed her face. “The river?”

  He met her gaze, hoping she would understand. “Where you, me, and Cal used to meet up. You remember, right?”

  Her smile returned, warm and natural. “Yeah, I remember. Okay. Axel will be irritated to fill in behind the bar again, but he’ll live.”

  Si couldn’t help himself; he gave in to the urge and reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “See you down there, then.”

  Chapter 17

  Hope had to stop by the Moose to get Axel to fill in behind the bar for her, especially since the place was packed with people wanting to gossip about the town meeting over a beer or five. Even Lloyd and Joe’s usual evening fight was looking like it was going to be postponed; they were currently deep in discussion about taking potential tourists on a trapping run.

  Refusing to let herself get sidetracked, she made her escape as quickly as she could.

  It was a beautiful evening, the temperature mild, the stars like a scattering of diamonds across the black velvet of the sky, the mountains tall black shadows in the night. Her head was full of what Silas had talked about at the meeting, about how this was the real treasure of Deep River. The mountains. The river. The sky. The natural environment all around.

  And the people. Because it was the people who made Deep River truly home.

  A small pain tugged at her as she walked along the boardwalk to the end, taking the wooden stairs that led down to the riverbank and the little path that ran along it.

  Truly home? It’s almost as if you’re regretting your decision to leave.

  No, she wasn’t regretting it. Not at all. College was what she wanted, and no matter how inspired she’d been by Si’s speech and all the challenges and changes it was going to mean, she wasn’t going back on her decision.

  She walked down the path, smiling at the familiarity of it, the utter silence of the night broken only by the sound of the water rushing by and the occasional cry of nocturnal wildlife.

  It had been years since she’d been down to the little clearing beside the river, the special place where she, Cal, and Si used to meet. At first she hadn’t gone because it reminded her of too many things she hadn’t wanted to be reminded of, and then because she’d gotten too busy with life.

  A small part of her was afraid of the memories that coming here would prompt, especially after losing Cal, and yet as she walked along the path and saw light flicker and leap through the trees, it wasn’t pain that filled her but an aching kind of happiness.

  Si had lit a fire on the beach, and all she could think about was the times they’d sat around a fire just like this one, drinking stolen beer and toasting marshmallows. Talking about nothing. Talking about everything. Cal making them both laugh, because he could always make them laugh. Si making the odd dry comment. Herself teasing both of them.

  Good times. Happy times.

  She stepped off the path and walked slowly down to the sandy flat area beside the river, her eyes prickling with unexpected and very stupid tears at what awaited her.

  Because not only had Si lit a fire but he’d also dug little holes in the sand to put cans of beer in, the way they used to do, so they wouldn’t fall over. And in lieu of the sweatshirts they would pull off to sit on, there were a couple of cushions. A giant bag of marshmallows lay between the cushions, along with some sharpened sticks—she and Cal had always agreed that Si made the best marshmallow-toasting sticks.

  Best of all was Si himself standing there waiting for her, the flames flickering over his handsome face, highlighting his strong jaw and straight nose, the deep hollows of his eyes and his high forehead. A compelling face. Magnetic, powerful. And the way he was standing, certain and sure. Rooted to the earth like the mountains, a solid, comforting presence.

  It struck her in that moment that although she was going to miss those mountains, the rushing river, and the big bowl of the sky, the clean freshness of the air and the ramshackle cluster of buildings that was the town, she was going to miss Silas Quinn even more.

  It’s not just the people that make it home. It’s him.

  This time, she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t thought it. Couldn’t pretend that thought hadn’t always been there, waiting in the back of her mind. That maybe, just maybe, Deep River hadn’t felt like home all these years because he hadn’t been there. And that the reason she was having these doubts about leaving now was because he was staying.

  You’re in love with him, fool. When are you going to admit it?

  It felt like she’d ducked her head under the icy water of the river and now h
er hair was dripping, trickling under the collar of her shirt and sliding down her spine in cold rivulets, making her shiver.

  She didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t even want to think it. But it seemed like the time for denial was done. Because the feeling in her heart was too big, too powerful to ignore. And more, it felt wrong to ignore it, deny it.

  She did love him. Maybe she’d even loved him years ago when they were teenagers sitting beside the fire and talking. When they were children playing fairy tales in the bush.

  As she’d told them both that terrible night that she had to stay, and then he’d offered to stay with her.

  She hadn’t been ready for everything it would have meant back then. Hell, she wasn’t sure she was ready for it now.

  His hands were thrust into the pockets of his jeans, and as she came to a stop on the opposite side of the fire, his mouth curved in a smile, his eyes gone a brilliant gold.

  “Thought I’d recreate a little of the past.” His voice was deep and dark over the crackling of the flames. “What do you think?”

  She swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “It’s fantastic, Si. I love it.”

  His smile deepened. “Good. Sit down, let’s have a beer. I’ll even toast you a marshmallow.”

  “Can’t argue with that. You always did have the best toasting skills.”

  He inclined his head, obviously taking his due, and then they both sat. And a strange tension began to build inside her. Her heart felt too big for her chest, her skin sensitized like in the winter when she’d been wearing winter clothes so long she’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have the air on her bare flesh. And the thoughts in her head were going around and around.

  Did he feel the same way about her? Was this why he’d asked her down here? He’d told her he’d wanted to talk to her about something… Was it a confession? That he felt the same way about her as she did about him? Maybe that he wanted her to stay? And if he did ask her to stay, would she? Would knowing he felt the same way change her decision to leave?