Beverly Barton - Defending His Own

"Mother, I—"

"Shh. I deliberately brought Ashe back here because I knew you'd never gotten over him, that there had been no one else." Glancing down at her hands, Carol twisted her diamond ring and her gold wedding band about on her finger. "I admit I played God in your life, but I want you to be happy."

"I'm glad Ashe came back into my life. We've cleared up several misconceptions we had concerning each other."

"He told you what your father did, didn't he?"

"Yes, he told me."

"Deborah, your father thought he was doing the best thing for you. I disagreed, but you know how your father was. He wouldn't listen to me."

"I don't blame you, Mother. I don't even blame Daddy." Deborah hugged Carol. "It's all right. Really it is. We can't change what happened. Besides, I'm the one who has kept Allen's parentage a secret. I could have gotten in touch with Ashe at any time and we both know it."

No, Deborah blamed no one except herself. If she had been a little older and less dependent on her parents, she never would have agreed to her father's plan to send her and her mother away to Europe for the last few months of Deborah's pregnancy. A chubby girl who had been able to disguise her pregnant state with loose, baggy clothes, even at six months, Deborah hadn't had a problem keeping her pregnancy a secret. And once they had returned to Sheffield with Allen, no one had dared to openly question his parentage.

"I lied to Mattie," Carol said. "She asked me once, when Allen was just a baby, if he was your child. Yours and Ashe's."

"You never told me that she suspected Allen wasn't yours and Daddy's."

"I lied to her. I convinced her that her suspicions were wrong. She never questioned me again."

"If she'd known, she would have told Ashe."

"She does know, Deborah." Carol kept her eyes downcast. "I told her the truth when I asked her for Ashe's telephone number in Atlanta."

"Mother!"

Carol's chin quivered as she looked directly at her daughter. "She has promised not to tell Ashe, to give you time to tell him the truth." Carol clutched Deborah's hand. "You must tell Ashe. You can't keep putting it off, not now the two of you are lovers."

"Mother, I'm not sure telling Ashe would be the best thing to do, under the circumstances."

"What circumstances?"

"Ashe and I have made each other no promises. He hasn't committed himself to me for any longer than his business here will take. Once I'm no longer in danger, he's going back to Atlanta."

"I see."

"If I tell him about Allen, I have no idea what he might do. He could tell Allen. He could demand joint custody. Or he could make a commitment to me because of Allen and not because he loves me." Jumping up off the window seat, Deborah walked around the room. She stopped abruptly, then turned to face her mother. "I'm afraid to tell him. I'm afraid I'll lose him all over again."

"Deborah, dear child, you musn't—"

"I know. I know. I'm not fooling myself. It's just that I want whatever time we have together to go on being as wonderful as it was tonight."

"You must tell the man he has a son." Carol shook her head. "You can't lie to Ashe if you love him."

"I didn't say I loved him."

"You didn't have to. I see it in your eyes. I hear it in your voice."

"I can't tell him. Not yet."

"I go back to the doctor for a checkup and more tests soon," Carol said. "If you haven't told Ashe by then—"

"No, Mother, you musn't tell him."

"Then you tell him. We should have told him long ago. Besides, if you don't tell him before he leaves Sheffield, Mattie will tell him."

"But what if he tells Allen?"

Carol stood, walked across the room and laid her hand on Deborah's shoulder. "Ashe isn't going to do anything to hurt Allen. Don't you know him any better than that?"

"Give me some time, Mother. Please, just let me do this my way and in my own good time."

"Don't wait too long. My heart tells me that you'll be sorry if you do."

Ashe came out of the shower, dried off and stepped into a pair of clean briefs. He didn't know when he'd ever felt so good, so glad to be alive.

Deborah. Sweet, beautiful Deborah.

She was, in so many ways, the same innocent, loving girl she'd been eleven years ago; but then she was also a woman of strength and courage and incredible passion.

Whoever she was, part innocent girl, part bewitching woman, Deborah Vaughn was honest and trustworthy. She would never lie to him. Never!

He had tried to put Roarke's suspicions out of his mind, and for those magic hours he'd spent with Deborah he'd been able to do just that. But now he had to face them again.

There was no way Allen Vaughn could be his son. Deborah would have told him if she'd been pregnant. She'd have come running to him. She'd been so crazy in love with him that she would have…

She would have come to him after he'd rejected her, after he'd told her that he didn't love her the way she loved him?

Allen isn't your son, he told himself. He looks just like Deborah. He's her brother, dammit. Her brother!

Besides, Mama Mattie would have told him if she'd thought Allen was his child.

Don't do this to yourself! Don't look for similarities between you and Allen. Don't let Roarke's outrageous suspicions spoil what you and Deborah have found together this time.

Miss Carol never would have dared you to come back to Sheffield and face the past if Allen was your son.

Ashe dressed hurriedly, then rushed downstairs, eager to see Deborah again. He would not look at Allen Vaughn and search for a truth that didn't exist. He trusted Deborah. His heart told him she wouldn't lie to him. And just this once, he intended to listen to his heart.

Chapter 11

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The trial had lasted eight days, everyone saying the case was pretty well cut and dried since the prosecution had a reliable eyewitness to the murder. After three and a half hours of deliberation, the jury had rendered a guilty verdict, surprising no one. Five days later, the judge had sentenced Lon Sparks to life in prison, and Deborah Vaughn had been free from threats and harassment for nearly two weeks.

Ashe had been waiting for Buck Stansell to strike, but nothing had happened, not even a wrong number telephone call. He'd thought about paying Buck a visit, but decided against it. Why take a chance on stirring a hornet's nest? He had talked to his cousin Lee Roy, who'd said little, except that people weren't overly concerned with an insignificant guy like Lon Sparks, that the man wasn't worth enough to cause trouble over.

Roarke had suggested it might be time to think about returning to Atlanta, but Ashe kept putting him off. How could he take a chance on leaving Deborah undefended? She'd come to mean far more to him than she should. He had allowed himself to become too involved with her, with Allen and Miss Carol. This was a job, but not like any other. These were people he cared about, a family he'd started thinking of as his.

Maybe he had reached the age when he needed to settle down, to start considering marriage and children. He wasn't sure. He and Deborah were attracted to each other, always had been, although he'd fought that attraction when they'd been younger. Maybe somewhere deep down inside him, he'd always thought he wasn't quite good enough for Deborah. Not just because her parents were wealthy and socially prominent and he'd come from white trash hoodlums, but because he'd never been innocent or pure or good, and Deborah had been all those things. Even now, at twenty-eight, she still personified everything right with the world.

And he still wasn't good enough for her.

Ashe paced the floor in the doctor's office, waiting for Deborah and Miss Carol. He'd told himself that he would hang around Sheffield until they knew the test results. It was as good an excuse as any. This way he could justify his reluctance to leave, to Deborah and her family, as well as to himself.