Beverly Barton - Defending His Own

Ashe aimed and fired. Deborah screamed. Randy Perry slumped, knocking Deborah down as he dropped to the floor. Blood spurted from the lone bullet wound in his head. Deborah looked over at the man's still body, then crawled away from him. Standing hurriedly, she ran toward Ashe.

He grabbed her, pulling her into his arms, encompassing her in his tight embrace. She gulped for air, her body racked with heavy, dry sobs. Ashe rubbed her back, petting her tenderly.

"It's all right, honey. You're safe now. You're safe."

The police stormed into the warehouse after hearing the gunshot. They found Randy Perry lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood and a partially undressed Deborah Vaughn clinging to Ashe McLaughlin.

"Is she all right?" Ed Burton walked over to Ashe. "Did he hurt her?"

"She'll be all right." Ashe slipped his gun into the holster, then removed his jacket and placed it around Deborah's shoulders. "I'm taking her home."

"Maybe you should take her to the hospital. If she's been raped—"

"No!" Deborah cried. "He—he didn't—didn't rape me. He would have, but Ashe—Ashe—"

Ashe lifted her into his arms, carried her past a row of gawking police officers and out onto the sidewalk. She laid her head on his chest. He kissed the top of her head.

Standing by the side of Ashe's car, Lee Roy opened the door. Ashe deposited Deborah inside, got in and looked up at his cousin.

"Thanks," Ashe said. "Pass it along. Okay?"

"Yeah. Sure thing. Glad we made it in time." Lee Roy grinned. "Guess I'll be seeing you from time to time. I figure you'll be staying around these parts to keep an eye on your woman."

Lee Roy walked over to his truck, got in and drove off. Ashe removed his jacket and draped it around Deborah's shoulders, then pulled her close to his side, started his car and headed southwest.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Allen is with Mama Mattie. Chief Burton has an officer keeping an eye on them."

"I can't let Allen see me like this, with my clothes—" She swallowed hard, biting the insides of her cheeks in an effort not to cry.

"He'll be asleep when we get there. I'm sure Annie Laurie can find you something of hers to put on." Ashe hugged Deborah, leaning the side of his head against the top of hers. "It's all over, honey. Go ahead and cry. Let it all out."

"I can't cry," she said. "I hurt too much to cry."

"Did you tell Ed Burton the truth? Randy Perry didn't rape you, did he?"

"No, he didn't. He slapped me around. He scared me to death. Oh, Ashe, how can you say it's over? Buck Stansell will just hire someone else to come after me."

Ashe pulled the car off Shop Pike and into the parking lot of the old converted train depot. Killing the motor, he turned to Deborah. She looked so pale, there in the moonlight, her eyes overly bright and slightly glazed with tears. But she hadn't cried, hadn't gone into hysterics. His strong, brave Deborah. Taking her face in both hands, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her tenderly.

Still holding her face, he shook his head. "It's over, honey. Believe me. Buck Stansell didn't put out a contract on you. George Jamison did."

Deborah gasped. "George!"

Ashe slipped one arm behind her and crossed the other over her body, bringing her into the comfort of his embrace. "Buck was telling me the truth. Lon Sparks wasn't an important enough cog in their wheel for Buck to make an example out of you. Especially when he found out he'd have to contend with me."

"But George? I can't believe he would… Ashe, are you sure? How did you find out?"

"I got a confession out of George, tonight."

"But—but why would George want to kill me? I don't understand."

"The man has a sick, devious, greedy mind. He thought Miss Carol would die, then if you were out of the way, Whitney would be given custody of Allen and the entire Vaughn estate."

Deborah gripped Ashe's arms. "What about Whitney? Does she know what he did? Oh, dear Lord, is she all right?"

That was his Deborah, kindhearted and loving to the bitter end. "Yeah, she knows. And she's all right. When she found out, she was ready to kill George herself."

"So, it really is over, isn't it?" Deborah sighed, her body relaxing in Ashe's embrace. "Oh, Ashe, I was so afraid. I didn't know if you'd find me in time."

Ashe kissed the top of her head, the side of her face, his arms tightening around her. "I had to find you, didn't you know that? I couldn't let anything happen to you. Not now when we've just found each other again. Not when I've realized exactly how much you mean to me."

The tears she'd been holding at bay rose in her throat, choking her. She swallowed hard. "I didn't want to die. And I was scared, so scared. I didn't want to leave Allen and Mother and … you."

"We have a lot to talk about," Ashe said. "But not now. You've been through hell these last few hours. We've both been through hell!"

"I want to see Allen. I want to take him home. Once we're all safe and together, then you and I can talk and work things out." She would have to share Allen with his father in the future. Would that mean trips to Atlanta for Allen, or was there a possibility that Ashe would return to Sheffield permanently? "We can work things out, can't we, Ashe?"

"Yeah, honey, we most certainly can work everything out."

Keeping one arm around Deborah, Ashe started the car and drove them straight to Mama Mattie's. The moment they pulled into the driveway, Annie Laurie rushed outside. The fading bruises on the side of her face were the only physical reminder of the accident four days ago. After a two-day hospital stay and countless tests, the doctors had sent her home with a caution to take it easy for a while.

Opening the passenger door, Annie Laurie grabbed Deborah when she stepped out of the Buick Regal.

A young police officer followed Annie Laurie. "I see you found Ms. Vaughn."

"You're all right." Annie Laurie glanced at Ashe. "You're both all right." She looked at Deborah's tattered clothing and gasped. "Oh, God, did he—"

"No," Deborah said. "Ashe found us before he really hurt me." She ran a hand down across her torn skirt. "I need something to put on before Allen sees me."

"Allen's asleep. Finally. He's lying on the couch with his head in Mama Mattie's lap. That's the reason she didn't come out here with me. She didn't want to wake him up. Poor baby has been worried sick and we thought he'd never rest."

"Thank you for keeping watch over Allen." Ashe got out of the car and shook hands with the officer. "The man who kidnapped Ms. Vaughn is dead."

"Yeah, Chief Burton just called. He said to tell you that George Jamison has been arrested and is in jail."

"Tell the chief that Ms. Vaughn and I will be glad to answer any questions tomorrow." Ashe placed his arm around Deborah's shoulders. "We'll go around to the back door. Annie Laurie, I hope you find Deborah something to wear before we wake Allen and take him home."

Deborah and Ashe walked around the house to the back porch, while Annie Laurie went in the front and met them at the kitchen door. Annie Laurie ushered Deborah into her bedroom. Ashe walked through the kitchen and the small dining area adjacent to the living room and stood in the arched opening, looking across the room at his grandmother and his son. His son!

Mattie Trotter placed her index finger over her lips, cautioning Ashe to be quiet. He nodded and smiled. Ashe noticed his grandmother's old photo album in Allen's arms.

More than anything, Ashe wanted to lift Allen in his arms and hold him. His child. His son. Ten years of the boy's life had already passed. Would they ever be able to make up the lost time? Would Allen ever accept him as a father?

When Deborah and Annie Laurie emerged from the bedroom, Deborah walked over to Ashe and handed him his jacket. He slipped it on, then put his arm around her waist. She took his hand in hers. He thought she looked beautiful in Annie Laurie's little burgundy-checked shirtwaist dress, her long hair disheveled and her face void of any makeup.