Defending His Own

'And I will send the sum we agreed upon to your agency in Atlanta on a weekly basis.'

'You and I have come to an agreement on terms,' Ashe said. 'But unless Deborah cooperates—'

'She will cooperate.'

Ashe widened his eyes, surprised by the vigor of Carol Vaughn's statement. Apparently her fragile physical condition had not extinguished the fire in her personality.

The front door flew open and a tall, gangly boy of perhaps twelve raced into the living room, tossing a stack of schoolbooks down on a bowfront walnut commode.

'I made a hundred on my math test. See. Take a look.' He dashed across the room, handed Carol his paper and sat down on the floor at her feet. 'And guess what else, Mother? My team beat the hel…heck out of Jimmy Morton's team in PE today.'

Carol caressed the boy's blond hair, petting him with deep affection. 'I'm so proud of you, Allen.'

The boy turned his attention to Ashe, who stared at the child, amazed at his striking resemblance to Deborah. Ashe's grandmother had mentioned Allen from time to time in her letters and phone calls. He'd always thought it odd that Wallace and Carol Vaughn had had another child so late in life. When Wallace Vaughn had run Ashe out of town eleven years ago, the Vaughns had had one child—seventeen-year-old Deborah.

'Who's he?' Allen asked.

'Allen, this is Mr. McLaughlin. He's an old friend. He and Deborah went to school together.'

'Were you Deborah's boyfriend?' Allen scooted around on the floor until he situated himself just right, so he could prop his back against the Queen Anne coffee table.

'Allen, you musn't be rude.' Carol shook her index finger at the boy, but she smiled as she scolded him.

'I wasn't being rude. I was just hoping Mr. McLaughlin was here to ask Deborah for a date. She never goes out unless it's with Neil, and she told me that he isn't her boyfriend.'

'I must apologize for Allen, but you see, he is very concerned that Deborah doesn't have a boyfriend,' Carol explained. 'Especially since he's going steady himself. For what now, Allen, ten days?'

'Ah, quit kidding me.' Allen unlaced his shoes, then reached up on top of the tea table to retrieve a tiny cinnamon cake. He popped it into his mouth.

Ashe watched the boy, noting again how much he looked like Deborah as a young girl. Except where she had been short and plump with small hands and feet, Allen was tall, slender and possessed large feet and big hands. But his hair was the same color, his eyes an almost identical blue.

'Hey, what do we know about Mr. McLaughlin? We can't let Deborah date just anybody.' Allen returned Ashe's penetrating stare. 'If he gets serious about Deborah, is he the kind of man who'd make her a good husband?'

The front door opened and closed again. A neatly attired young woman in a navy suit and white blouse walked into the entrance hall.

'Now, Allen, you're being rude again,' Carol said. 'Besides, your sister's love life really isn't any of our business, even if we did find her the perfect man.'

'Now what?' Deborah called out from the hallway, not even looking their way. 'Mother, you and Allen haven't found another prospect you want me to consider, have you? Just who have you two picked out as potential husband material this time?'

Carrying an oxblood leather briefcase, Deborah came to an abrupt halt when she looked into the living room and saw Ashe sitting beside her mother on the sofa. She gasped aloud, visibly shaken.

'Come in, dear. Allen and I were just entertaining Ashe McLaughlin. You remember Ashe, don't you, Deborah?'

'Was he your old boyfriend?' Allen asked. 'Mother won't tell me.'

Ashe stood and took a long, hard look at Deborah Vaughn … the girl who had proclaimed her undying love for him one night down by the river, eleven years ago. The girl who, when he gently rejected her, had run crying to her rich and powerful daddy.

The district attorney and Wallace Vaughn had given Ashe two choices. Leave town and never come back, or face statutory rape charges.

'Hello, Deborah.'

'What are you doing here?'

She had changed, perhaps even more than her pale, weak mother. No longer plump but still as lovely as she'd been as a teenager, Deborah possessed a poise and elegance that had eluded the younger, rather awkward girl. She wore her long, dark blond hair tucked into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. A pair of small golden earrings matched the double gold chain around her neck.

'Your mother sent for me.' Ashe noted the astonished look on her face.

Deborah, still standing in the entrance hall, gazed at her mother. 'What does he mean, you sent for him?'

'Now, dear, please come in and let's talk about this matter before you upset yourself.'

'Allen, please go out in the kitchen with Mazie while I speak with Mother and Mr. McLaughlin.'

'Ah, why do I have to leave? I'm a member of this family, aren't I? I shouldn't be excluded from important conversations.' When his sister remained silent, Allen looked pleadingly at his mother, who shook her head.

'Do what Deborah says.' Carol motioned toward the hallway. 'This is grown-up talk and although you're quite a young man, you're still not old enough to—'

'Yeah, yeah. I know.' Allen jumped up and ran out of the room, his eyes downcast and his lips puckered into a defiant pout.

'What's going on?' Deborah marched into the living room, slamming her briefcase down atop Allen's books on the antique commode. She glared at Ashe. 'What are you doing here?'

'As Ashe said, I sent for him.' Tilting her chin upward, Carol straightened her thin shoulders.

'You what?'

'Calm yourself,' Carol said.

'I am calm.' Deborah spoke slowly, her teeth clenched tightly.

'Ashe works for a private security firm out of Atlanta.' Carol readjusted her hips on the sofa, placing her hand down on the cushion beside her. 'I've hired him to act as your bodyguard until the trial is over and you're no longer in any danger.'

'I can't believe what I'm hearing.' Deborah scowled at Ashe. 'You've brought this man back into our lives. Good God, Mother, do you have any idea what you've done?'

'Don't speak to me in that tone of voice, Deborah Luellen Vaughn! I've done what I think is best for everyone concerned.'

'And you?' Deborah looked directly at Ashe. 'Why would you come back to Sheffield after all these years? How on earth did my mother persuade you to return?' Deborah's rosy cheeks turned pale, her lips quivered. 'What —what did she tell you?'

'I told him that your life had been threatened. I explained the basic facts.' Carol turned to Ashe. 'This is what he does for a living, and I'm paying him his usual fee, isn't that right, Ashe?'

'This is strictly a business arrangement for me,' Ashe replied. 'My services are for hire to anyone with enough money to afford me.'

Where was the sweet girl he'd once known? The laughing, smiling girl who'd been his friend long before she'd become his lover one hot summer night down by the river. He had never regretted anything as much as he had regretted taking Deborah's virginity. He'd been filled with rage and half drunk. Deborah had been with him that night, trying to comfort him, and he had taken advantage of her loving nature. But she'd paid him back.

'I don't want you here. Keep a week's salary for your trouble.' Deborah nodded toward the door. 'Now, please leave.'

'No!' Reaching out, Carol grabbed Ashe by the arm. 'Please, don't leave. Go in the kitchen and have some cookies with Allen.'

'Mother! Think what you're saying.'

'Please, Ashe. Go out into the kitchen for a few minutes while I speak with Deborah.'

Ashe patted Carol on the hand, then pulled away from her. 'I won't leave, Miss Carol. It would take an act of congress to get me out of Sheffield.'

He smiled at Deborah when he walked past her, halting briefly to inspect her from head to toe, then