That Deep River Feeling (Alaska Homecoming #3) - Jackie Ashenden Page 0,5

hanging around the house lately, but her approach to the plentiful wildlife in Deep River was that if you left it alone, it would leave you alone.

Sadly, she didn’t think that applied to stubborn-ass men.

She walked along the porch, then went down the stairs that led onto the lawn and came up beside him.

“What part of ‘I’m going to arrest you for trespassing’ or ‘shoot you with my Taser’ didn’t you understand?” she said.

Zeke ignored her. “See there?” He pointed to the roof. “Definitely going to need some new shingles. Guttering, too, needs work.” His pointing finger lowered. “And the second-story windows. Some of the frames are going to give you trouble come winter.” Then he pointed at the pipes that ran down the side of the house. “And I’m thinking that the downpipes over there might need replacing too.”

Morgan glared at him, annoyed at his continuing inability to listen. “You want me to get the zip ties?”

“You can try.” Zeke didn’t look at her. “Cal asked me to take care of you. And that means fixing up the house.”

Ah. That explained things.

“Well, why didn’t you just say?” she muttered, her irritation lessening somewhat, since she was very familiar with the male tendency to want to fix things to show they cared. That had been Cal’s default too. Still, she didn’t want this particular male hammering at her guttering right now.

“It’s fine, Zeke,” she said. “You don’t have to—”

“I should take a look under the house, make sure the plumbing is okay. How’s your wood supply?”

Morgan frowned. Persistent, wasn’t he? “Are you listening to me?”

“About as much as you’re listening to me.”

She gritted her teeth. He still wasn’t looking at her, his dark eyes narrowed as he kept on scanning the house like an engineer looking for structural faults.

Really, she wasn’t sure why him offering to fix her house bugged her so. Because all the things he’d mentioned were things that she’d been going to fix herself, but hadn’t gotten around to it due to the fallout from Cal’s death.

Oil reserves had been discovered lying beneath the town, oil that now belonged not only to Cal’s three friends who’d inherited the town from him, but to all the people who leased land in Deep River—a.k.a. the entire town. The leases were bought and sold for nominal amounts of money, since when Jacob West had founded the town over a century earlier, during the gold rush years, he’d intended Deep River to be a haven for those who weren’t comfortable anywhere else.

A refuge and a sanctuary for those who needed it, even those who had no money.

Morgan believed very strongly in her ancestor’s vision and so had Cal, and the oil discovery had been a shock. Especially since Cal had kept it a secret from her.

She wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told her, but whatever, the town deciding to take up Silas’s suggestion of kickstarting tourism to replace oil dollars and getting some projects started had eaten up her time.

That and the usual duties of a VPSO—fire safety, search and rescue, first responder duties, plus all the paperwork—didn’t allow for much rest and relaxation. She also involved herself in the day-to-day running of Deep River, so yeah, busy.

But still, she could be handy with a hammer. She was an independent person who much preferred taking care of others to being taken care of herself, especially by persistent men with painted-on ears.

“Zeke,” she said, striving to keep a grip on her patience. “If I need help with the place, I’ll be sure to let you know. But right now—”

Zeke walked off abruptly yet again, going back to the porch and climbing the stairs.

What. The. Hell?

“Hey,” she called, going after him and hurrying up the steps and onto the porch. “Where are you going?”

He vanished around the corner again and so she followed, catching up as he strode to her front door.

“Hey!” she repeated. “Zeke, you can’t just—”

Zeke pulled open the front door and stepped inside as if he owned the place.

The bear is in your house now, Goldilocks.

Ignoring that aggravating thought and trying to hold on to her thinning patience, Morgan went after him.

He stood in the entranceway, giving everything another of those slow, careful scans. The space was high ceilinged, with big wooden beams crisscrossing overhead, and it had always felt echoing to Morgan, especially when she’d been a kid. Like a church, her mother, who’d never liked the house, used to mutter darkly. But with Zeke’s massive form standing there