Deep River Promise (Alaska Homecoming #2) - Jackie Ashenden Page 0,38

like they could be interesting. Why don’t you take a look at those, then show me what you have?”

“Okay, good.” She pulled open a drawer in the desk, took out a similar-looking folder, and put it down. Then picked up the one Silas had given Damon.

The suggestions for possible tourism options were mostly good ones, and he’d been intrigued in spite of himself. Kevin Anderson’s potential fishing charter business was a solid idea, as was Harry’s wilderness skills and guided hikes along some of the game trails that looped through the bush surrounding Deep River. With Silas taking people on scenic flights, there was a good base from which to build other options that centered on Deep River’s natural beauty and didn’t require a whole lot of capital up front.

“My take on this,” he said as Astrid leafed through the folder, “is that if you start small and invest a little here and there before gradually building, it’ll be less risky in the long run. Because there’ll be other things the town will need to invest in that aren’t only tourism projects.”

Astrid leaned back in her chair, sipping on her coffee. “Such as?”

“Infrastructure, mainly. This place isn’t built to cater to a lot of tourists, and if you’re going to be chasing those dollars, you’re going to need some amenities, like public bathrooms. Then you’ll need businesses that will cater to them. More stores, for example. Entertainment. Places to eat. Places to sleep.”

She pulled a face and he laughed. “Yeah, I know. You’re thinking it’s going to turn into some kind of tourist hellhole, but it won’t if you do it right. Because what you don’t want is a whole lot of tourists milling around with nothing to do and nowhere to go and leaving you crap reviews online.”

She snorted. “Reviews? Really?”

“Yes, people write reviews on Tripadvisor and on their Facebook pages and the various Deep River businesses’ Facebook pages—which if they don’t have yet, they’re going to have to get—or they post pictures on Instagram. What you don’t want is people saying what a terrible time they had in Deep River. You want them to have a whole experience. The magic of the wilderness. The pristine scenery. The amazing wildlife. Getting away from the rat race, et cetera et cetera.”

Her gaze narrowed. “And ‘entertainment’ is going to help with that?”

“Well, let me put it to you this way. Are you really going to want a bunch of tourists cluttering up the Moose every night?”

“Hmmm.” She reached forward for another donut. “I suppose not.”

He grinned. “It’s okay. You can have my donut.”

In the process of taking a bite, Astrid stilled, her forehead creasing. “Oh. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” She held out the donut to him. “Here. It’s yours.”

He wondered what she’d do if he leaned forward and took a bite out of the donut, brushing her fingertips with his mouth. Would she blush again? Would she let him take another bite? Lick sugar from the tips of her fingers?

Not helpful.

No, it wasn’t. At all.

“It’s okay. Eat it. I can get another.” He shoved away the flare of interest from the more disreputable parts of himself situated below his belt. “So, back to the tourists. Where are they all going to sleep? You think the ones with money are going to be happy with the Moose’s rooms?”

Astrid bit into the donut and chewed. “Nate has the Gold Pan. And there’s Clare’s B&B.”

“Who do they cater to? Hunters and trappers? Fishermen?”

Astrid glanced down at the paper sitting in the folder in front of her and groaned. “Oh, not Mike’s luxury motel idea again.”

Damon lifted an eyebrow. “Again?”

“Yes. He tried to make something of it last year and people weren’t happy about it. There were arguments.”

“I think it’s a good idea. Done well, places like this can cater to a higher-end tourist. And it doesn’t have to be casinos and roller coasters. Ecotourism is a whole thing, so why not go that route?” He shifted in his seat, his legs out in front of him, crossing his ankles. “Of course, that’s a long term plan since it’ll require more serious investment.”

She frowned, her attention still on the paper in front of her, the donut finished. A dusting of sugar sparkled on the side of her cheek and he wanted to put his hand to it, brush it away. He could also see the marks of a sleepless night in the dark smudges beneath her eyes.

His thoughts wandered yet again. Why had she ended