'Ms. Vaughn?' Missy Jenkins, a young LPN for whom Deborah had found a house a few months earlier, stood in the waiting room doorway.
'May we see Mother now?' Deborah asked.
'Yes. She'll be going in to surgery in about thirty-five minutes, if the doctor's schedule doesn't change.' Missy's smile made her rather homely face brighten to a certain degree of cuteness. 'She'll be getting groggy soon, so you'd better go on in.'
Ashe stood, assisted Deborah to her feet and kept his arm around her waist as they walked down the hall. Deborah eased open the door to Carol's private room. Her mother looked so thin and pale lying there on pristine white sheets, an IV connected to her arm.
Carol opened her eyes and smiled. 'Good morning, my dears. Come in. They've given me something and I'll be a babbling idiot soon.'
Ashe stood beside Deborah, who leaned down and hugged her mother gently, kissing her forehead. 'Roarke is bringing Allen by before he takes him to school. I expect they'll be here any minute.'
'Such a precious child,' Carol said. 'So much like you, Deborah.'
'Yes, Mother.'
'Ashe, thank you for coming back to Sheffield, for keeping watch over us, for bringing Roarke here to help you.' Carol closed her eyes, then reopened them, focusing her gaze on Deborah. 'I want to talk to you while I still can. I want you to promise me that—'
'Mother, this can wait until you're feeling better.' Deborah patted Carol's hand.
'Ashe, would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes.' Carol glanced over her daughter's shoulder at the big man standing guard. 'Mother-daughter talk. You understand?'
Ashe squeezed Deborah's shoulder. 'I'll be in the waiting room. As soon as Allen arrives, I'll bring him down here.'
The moment Ashe closed the door behind him, Carol Vaughn looked up at Deborah. 'I may not live through this surgery, and if I don't—'
'Mother, please, you mustn't talk this way.'
Carol held up a hand in restraint. 'Hush up. We both know there's a chance that the cancer has spread this time.'
'We have to be optimistic, to think only positive thoughts.'
'And we shall do just that, but … I want you to promise me you'll tell Ashe the truth about Allen.'
'Mother, please … please, don't ask that of me. Not now. Not this way.'
Carol gripped Deborah's hand with an amazing amount of strength. 'Must I beg you to do this? I begged your father, years ago, not to make us all live a lie. If I had been stronger and stood up to him, none of us would be faced with this dilemma now.'
'I'm in love with Ashe. We're lovers. I keep telling myself that he won't leave me this time, that he cares enough to stay. But I'm not sure how he really feels about me, so how can I tell him that I gave birth to his child over ten years ago and have kept that child from him? What if Ashe hates me?'
'Ashe cares deeply for you. He always did.' Carol motioned for Deborah to come into her arms.
Deborah cuddled close to her mother's comforting body, careful not to bear her weight on Carol's thin frame. 'What if I tell Ashe the truth and he tells Allen?'
'I don't think Ashe will tell Allen. Not now.' Carol stroked Deborah's hair, petting her in a loving, motherly fashion. 'But you must tell Ashe. Tell him now. Don't wait. Do this for me. Consider it a last request.'
'Mother!' Deborah jerked away from Carol, tears filling her eyes. 'Please, don't ask this of me.'
'I am asking,' Carol said. 'Tell Ashe that he is Allen's father. Tell him today.'
'I can't!' Deborah turned away from her mother, tears trickling down her cheeks. She swatted them away with the tips of her fingers.
'You must tell him, Deborah. If you don't, Mattie will. She won't continue keeping our secret. And someday, you and Ashe must tell Allen the truth. He has a right to know.'
Deborah swallowed her tears. Her mother was right. The lie had gone on long enough. It was one thing to keep the truth from Ashe when he wasn't a part of their lives, but now that he had come to mean so much to Allen, now that she had fallen in love with him all over again, it was wrong to keep the truth from him.
'I promise I'll tell him,' Deborah said.
'Today?'
'Yes. Today.'
At that precise moment Ashe knocked twice, opened the door and escorted Allen into Carol's room. Ashe glanced at Miss Carol, then at Deborah's tear-stained face. His eyes questioned her silently. She shook her head, saying 'Not now,' and went over to stand by Allen at her mother's bedside.
Ashe wasn't a man who prayed often, and most people wouldn't call his supplications to a higher power prayers. He wasn't a religious man, wasn't a churchgoer, but he'd been in enough tight situations to know that even the unbelievers called on God for help when all else failed.
Ashe felt a bit out of place in this small hospital chapel. He could remember the last time he'd been in a house of worship. It was a funeral. Another soldier who hadn't made it back to the U.S. alive. A friend whose body had been shipped home.
He knew Deborah was having a difficult time dealing with her mother's surgery and the threats on her own life. It infuriated him that he could do so little to make things easier for her. At the moment, he felt helpless. He might be able to stand between her and danger, to protect her physically, but he hated being unable to defend her against her own fear and sadness.
Miss Carol's condition was in God's hands; all any of them could do was pray and hope for the best. But the continued threats on Deborah's life were another matter. It shouldn't take Sam long to get the information he needed—who besides Buck Stansell had reason to threaten Deborah? Who had something to gain from her death?
Neil Posey was her partner, owning less than forty percent of the business. But what would he have to gain from Deborah's death? And what about Whitney? Did she stand to inherit anything from Deborah? Deborah had told him that Allen and her mother were her beneficiaries.
Maybe Buck had been lying, covering his tracks, knowing Ashe would have no qualms about coming after him if he thought Buck was responsible for harming Deborah.
Ashe looked at her, sitting several feet away from where he stood. Her shoulders trembled. He knew she was crying. They had come into the chapel nearly fifteen minutes ago, and Deborah didn't seem ready to leave yet. Maybe she found some sort of solace here. He hoped she did. He'd do anything, bear any burden, pay any price, to ease her pain.
When she stood, her head still bowed, Ashe walked up behind her, draping his arms around her. She leaned back onto his chest, bracing her head against him, folding her arms over his where they crossed her body.
She smelled so sweet, so fresh and feminine, such a contrast to the medicinal odors that mixed with the strong cleaning solutions in the hospital corridors.
'Miss Carol is going to be all right, honey. You've got to hang on to your faith.' Ashe kissed her cheek.
'You can't imagine how close Mother and I are. How much we've shared. How we've depended on each other completely since Daddy died.' Closing her eyes, Deborah bit down on her lower lip. She could not put off telling Ashe the truth about Allen any longer. She had promised her mother.
'We're all going to come out of this just fine. Miss Carol is a fighter. She's not going to let the cancer win. And I'm going to make sure y'all are safe.' Ashe hugged her fiercely, as if holding her securely in his arms could keep the evil away. 'I'm going to find out who's behind the threats and end this nightmare you've been living. After that, you and I have some decisions to make.'
Deborah's heart skipped a beat. This was the first time Ashe had even hinted at the possibility they might have a future together. Would he feel differently about her, about their future, once she told him Allen was his son?
'Ashe?'
'Hmm-hmm?'
She pulled away from him enough to turn around in his arms and face him. He placed his hands on both sides
