"No. I just want to make sure Allen finishes his homework."
"I'll make sure he does. Go wash out your lingerie or something. Read a good book. Call your boyfriend." Ashe's expression didn't alter as he named off a list of alternatives to standing guard over her brother.
"I told you Deborah doesn't have a boyfriend. She won't give any guy the time of day." Allen never looked up from his paper.
Ashe glanced down at the puzzle. "What's another word for old maid?"
Allen smothered his laughter behind his hand, sneaking a peek at Deborah out of the corner of his eye.
"Try the word smart," Deborah said. "As in any smart woman dies an old maid, without having to put up with a man trying to run her life."
"Spinster." Ashe acted as if he hadn't heard Deborah's outburst. Jerking the pencil from behind his ear, he printed the letters into the appropriate boxes.
"Hey, you're left-handed just like me," Allen said, his face bursting into a smile.
Deborah's heart sank. No. She mustn't panic. A lot of people were left-handed. There was no reason for Ashe to make the connection.
"We seem to have a lot in common." Ashe couldn't explain the rush of emotion that hit him. Like a surge of adrenaline warning him against something he couldn't see or hear, touch, taste or feel. Something he should know, but didn't. And that sense of the unknown centered around Allen Vaughn. Ashe found himself drawn to the boy, in a way similar yet different from the way he'd been drawn to Deborah when they'd been growing up together.
"Ashe, I… We need to talk," Deborah said.
He glanced up at her. Her face was pale. "Can't it wait until later? Allen and I are looking forward to our game."
"This won't take long." She nodded toward the hallway.
He laid down the puzzle book and pencil, stood up and patted Allen on the back. "You finish your homework while I see what Deborah wants that's so important it can't wait."
"Hurry," Allen said. "I'm almost through."
Deborah led Ashe out into the hallway, closing Allen's bedroom door behind him. "Please don't let Allen become too fond of you. He's at an age where he wants a man around, and he seems to idolize you. He thinks you're something special."
"So what's the problem?" Ashe asked. "I like Allen. I enjoy spending time with him. Do you think I'm a bad influence on him?"
"No, that isn't it."
"Then what is it?"
"If you two become close—too close—it'll break his heart when you leave Sheffield. He's just a little boy. I don't want to see him hurt."
Ashe pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her downcast eyes upward, making her look directly at him. "Who are you afraid will get too close to me? Who are you afraid will be brokenhearted when I leave? Who, Deborah? You or Allen?"
She hardened her stare, defying him, standing her ground against the overwhelming emotions fighting inside her. "You won't ever break my heart again, Ashe McLaughlin. I know you aren't here to stay, that you're in Sheffield on an assignment, just doing your job. But Allen is already forming a strong attachment to you. Don't encourage him to see you as a … a … big brother."
"A father figure, you mean, don't you? Allen needs a father. Why hasn't Carol ever remarried and given him a father? Or why haven't you married and given him a brother-in-law?"
"I don't think my personal affairs or my mother's are any of your business."
"You're right." He released her chin.
"Please don't spend so much time with Allen. Don't let him start depending on you. You aren't going to be around for very long."
"What should I do to entertain myself at night?" he asked. "Should I play bridge with your mother and her friends? Should I watch the Discovery channel on TV downstairs in the library? Should I invite a lady friend over for drinks and some hanky-panky in the pool house? Or should I come to your bedroom and watch you undress and see your hair turn to gold in the moonlight? Would you entertain me to keep me away from Allen?"
Her hand itched to slap his face. She knotted her palm into a fist, released it, knotted it again, then repeated the process several times.
"If you hurt my … my brother, I'll—"
He jerked her into his arms, loving the way she fought him, aroused by the passion of her anger, the heat of her indignation. "I'm not going to hurt Allen. You have my word."
Ceasing her struggles, she searched his face for the truth. "And I don't want to hurt you, Deborah. Not ever again. No matter what we've done to each other in the past, we don't have to repeat our mistakes."
"You're right," she said breathlessly. "Do your job. Act as my bodyguard until the trial is over and the threats stop. There's no need for you to become a temporary member of the family. None of us need a temporary man in our lives."
Was that what he was? Ashe wondered. A temporary man. Never a permanent part of anything. Just there to do a job. It hadn't mattered before, that he didn't have a wife or children. That his life held so little love, so little commitment. Why had being back in Sheffield changed all that? Being around families again, his family and Deborah's, brought to mind all his former hopes and dreams. Dreams of living in one of the big old houses in Sheffield, of becoming a successful businessman, of showing this town how far he'd come—from the depths of white trash, from the McLaughlins of Leighton. And the biggest part of his dream had been the society wife and the children she'd give him. Children who would never know the shame he'd felt, would never face the prejudice he'd fought, would never be looked at as if they were nothing.
"I'll do my job. I'll be careful not to let Allen become too attached to me. And I won't come into your bedroom and make slow, sweet love to you. Not unless you ask."
He didn't give her a chance to say a word. Turning, he marched down the hall, opened Allen's door and walked in, never once looking back at Deborah.
"Hell will freeze over, Ashe McLaughlin, before I ever ask you to make love to me again!" she muttered under her breath.
Chapter 5
« ^ »
A passel of hounds lay in the dirt yard surrounding the double-wide trailer. A brand-new cherry red Camaro, parked beside an old Ford truck, glistened in the morning sun. A long-legged, large-breasted brunette with a cigarette dangling from her lips flung open the front door and ushered three stair-step-size children onto the porch. Her voice rang out loud and clear.
"Get your rear ends in the car. I ain't got all morning to get you heathens to school."
The children scurried toward the Camaro. The woman turned around, surveyed Ashe from head to toe and grinned an I'd-like-to-see-what-you've-got-in-your-pants-honey kind of grin.
Ashe leaned against the hood of the rented car he had parked several feet off the gravel drive leading to Lee Roy Brennan's home. He eyed the smiling woman.
"Well, hello." She gave the youngest child a shove inside the car, never taking her eyes off Ashe. "You here to see Lee Roy?"
"Yeah. Is he around?"
"Could be." She ran her hand down her hip, over the tight-fitting jeans that outlined her shapely curves. "Who wants to know?"
"How about you go tell Lee Roy that Ashe McLaughlin wants to see him?"
"Well, Mr. Ashe McLaughlin, you sure do look like you're everything I ever heard you were." She stared directly at his crotch, then moved her gaze up to his face. "Lee Roy says you been in the army. One of them Green Berets. A real tough guy."
Ashe glanced at the three children in the Camaro. People like this didn't care what they said or did in front of their kids. He had vague memories of his old man cursing a blue streak, slapping his mother around and passing out drunk. Yeah, Ashe knew all about the low-class people he'd come from and had spent a lifetime trying to escape.
"Go tell Lee Roy his cousin wants to see him," Ashe said.
The woman's smile wavered, her eyes darting nervously from Ashe to the trailer. "Yeah, sure. He heard you was back in these parts."
Ashe didn't move from his propped position against the
hood of his car while Lee Roy's wife went inside the trailer. Three pairs of big brown eyes peered out the back window of the Camaro. Ashe waved at the children. Three wide, toothy smiles appeared on their faces.
"Hey, cousin. What's up?" Lee Roy Brennan stepped out onto the wooden porch connected to his trailer, his naked beer belly hanging over the top of his unsnapped jeans.
"Just paying a social call on my relatives." Ashe lowered his sunglasses down on his nose, peering over the top so that his cousin could see his eyes. Ashe had been told that he possessed a look that could kill. Maybe not kill, he thought, but intimidate the hell out of a person.
"You run them kids on to school, Mindy." Lee Roy swatted his wife's round behind.
She rubbed herself against the side of his body, patting him on his butt before she sauntered off the porch and strutted over to the car. She gave Ashe a backward glance. Although he caught her suggestive look in his peripheral vision, he kept his gaze trained on Lee Roy.
"Come on in and have a cup of coffee. Johnny Joe just got up. He's still in his drawers, but he'll be glad to see you."
Standing straight and tall, Ashe accepted his cousin's invitation. Lee Roy slapped Ashe on the back when they walked inside the trailer.
"Didn't think I'd ever see you around these parts again. Not after the way old man Vaughn run you out of the state."
Ashe removed his sunglasses, dropped them into the inside pocket of his jacket and glanced over at the kitchen table where Johnny Joe, all five feet eight inches of him, sat in a wooden chair. Swirls of black hair covered his stocky body, making him look a little like an oversize chimpanzee.
"Heard you was back. What the hell ever made you agree to hire on as a bodyguard for that Vaughn gal?" Johnny Joe picked up a mug with the phrase Proud to be a Redneck printed on it. "I figured you wouldn't have no use for that bunch."
Lee Roy wiped cornflake crumbs out of a chair, then turned to lift a mug off a wooden rack. "Have a seat. You still like your coffee black?"
"Yeah." Ashe eyed the sturdy wooden chair, a few crumbs still sticking to the side. Sitting down, he placed his hands atop the table, spreading his arms wide enough apart so that his cousins could get a glimpse of his shoulder holster.
Lee Roy handed Ashe a mug filled with hot, black coffee, then sat down beside his brother. "You're working for some fancy security firm in Atlanta now, huh? Got your belly full of army life?"
"Something like that," Ashe said. "And private security work pays better, too."
The brothers laughed simultaneously. Ashe didn't crack a smile.
"You bleeding old lady Vaughn dry?" Johnny Joe asked. "After what her old man almost did to you, I figure you got a right to take 'em for all you can get."
Ashe glared at Johnny Joe, the hirsute little weasel. He hadn't taken after the McLaughlin side of the family in either size, coloring or temperament. No, he was more Brennan. Little, dark, smart-mouthed and stupid.
"Shut up, fool." Lee Roy swatted his younger brother on his head. "Ashe wouldn't have come back to take care of Deborah Vaughn just for the money."
"You doing her again, Ashe?" Johnny Joe snickered.
Lee Roy slapped him upside his head again, a bit harder.
"What the hell was that for?" Johnny Joe whined.
"Don't pay no attention to him." Lee Roy looked Ashe square in the eye. "It's good to see you again. We had some fun together, back when we was kids. You and me and Evie Lovelady."
"Yeah, we had some good times." Ashe had liked Lee Roy better than any of his McLaughlin relatives and the two of them had sowed some pretty wild oats together. Fighting over Evie Lovelady's favors. Getting drunk on Hunter McGee's moonshine in the backseat of Lee Roy's old Chevy. Getting into fights with Buck Stansell when he cheated at cards.
Another life, a lifetime ago.
"This ain't just a social call to get reacquainted with relatives," Lee Roy said. "Spit it out, whatever it is you come here to say."
"I understand you two are working for Buck Stansell. Is that right?"
Johnny Joe opened his mouth to respond, but shut it quickly when his older brother gave him a warning stare.
"Buck took over the business when his old man died a few years back." Lee Roy picked up his coffee mug, took a swig, then wiped his mouth with the back of his big hand. "Our old man and yours both worked for Buck's daddy."
"I know who my daddy worked for and what he did for a living," Ashe said, laying his palms flat on the table. "I've chosen to work on the other side of the law. And right now, my main concern is Deborah Vaughn's safety."
"I see." Lee Roy studied the black liquid in his mug.
"She ain't in no danger as long as she keeps that pretty little mouth of hers shut," Johnny Joe said.
"Dammit, man, you talk too much." Lee Roy turned to Ashe. "You ought to stay out of things that ain't none of your business. What happens to Deborah Vaughn shouldn't be your concern."
Ashe leaned over the table, glanced back and forth from one brother to the other, finally settling his hard stare on Lee Roy. "Deborah Vaughn is very much my concern, and what happens to her is my personal business."
"Are you saying that there's still something between the two of you? Hell, man, I'd have figured—"
"I will take it personally if anything happens to her. If one hair on her head is harmed, I'll be looking for the guy who did it. Do I make myself clear?"
"Why are you telling us?" Lee Roy asked.
"I'm asking you to relay the message." Ashe shoved back the chair and stood, towering over his seated cousins. "Tell Buck Stansell that Deborah Vaughn is my woman. She's under my protection. This isn't just another job to me."
"You sure you want to tangle with ol' Buck?" Johnny Joe grinned, showing his crooked teeth, three in a row missing on the bottom.
"I've trapped and gutted meaner bastards than Buck Stansell, and you can tell him that. Buck and his friends don't want to tangle with me. If I have to come after them, I will."
"You sure do talk big," Johnny Joe said. "But then you always did. Just 'cause you been in the Green Berets—"
"Shut up!" Lee Roy said.
"I know that the local, state and federal authorities would all like to see Buck behind bars." Ashe walked toward the door. "So would I. But you tell him that my only interest in him and his business is my woman's safety. If he leaves her alone, I'll leave him alone. Pass that advice along."
"Yeah, I'll do that," Lee Roy said. "Can't say whether or not Buck will take the advice, but it's possible that whoever's out to get Deborah Vaughn might listen. Her being your woman just might make a difference. To certain people."
Ashe smiled then, nodded his head and walked out the door. He'd bet money that before he was halfway back to Sheffield, Lee Roy and Johnny Joe would be on their way to see Buck Stansell.
* * *
Ashe parked his rental car in the lot adjacent to Vaughn & Posey Real Estate. Walking up the sidewalk, he almost laughed aloud when he saw the sheriff's deputy pacing back and forth just inside the office entrance. The fresh-faced kid looked like a posted sentry marching back and forth.
When Ashe opened the door, the deputy spun around, taking a defensive pose, then relaxed when he recognized Ashe.
"No problems here, Mr. McLaughlin. Not even a phone call or a letter."
"Good. Tell Sheriff Blaylock that I said you did a fine job. Thanks—" Ashe glanced at the boy's name tag "—Deputy Regan."
The young man grinned from ear to ear. "Ms. Vaughn's taking care of some personal business right now, but she agreed to keep her door open so she wouldn't be out of my sight."
Ashe slapped the deputy on the back. "I'll take over now. I appreciate your diligence in keeping Ms. Vaughn safe for me."
Ashe noticed Deborah in her office, standing to the side of another woman, whose back was to him. Deborah glanced at him, her face solemn.
The young deputy backed out of the office like a servant removing himself from the presence of his king. Ash
e nodded a farewell to the boy, then focused all his attention on Deborah and the other woman.
He heard a rather loud hiss, then someone cleared their throat. Looking around, he saw Annie Laurie motioning for him to come to her.
"What's up?"
"Shh … shh." She flapped her hands in the air and shook her head. "Whitney Jamison—" Annie Laurie pointed to Deborah's office "—is in there right now. She came prancing in here with her nose in the air, looking all over the place for you."
Ashe sat down on the edge of Annie Laurie's desk, leaned over and whispered, "What makes you think she was looking for me?"
"She said so, that's how I know." Annie Laurie kept her voice low. "She took one look at the deputy and asked what he was doing here. Deborah told her he was on temporary guard duty. Then Whitney asked what was the problem, had you already deserted her? Then that bitch laughed. I wish Deborah had slapped her face."
"Aren't you overreacting just a little?"
"No, I don't think I am. Do you suppose for one minute that Whitney will let Deborah forget that you once asked Whitney to marry you and she dumped you, that she made you look like a fool?"
"Maybe I'd better go on in there and make sure there's not a catfight." Ashe grinned.
"Wipe that stupid grin off your face," Annie Laurie said. "Deborah Vaughn is not the type of lady to get into a catfight over any man, not even you, cousin dear."
Ashe laughed, but took note of Annie Laurie's words. She was right. Deborah wasn't the catfight type by any stretch of the imagination. But if she was, and she did choose to go one-on-one with Whitney, he'd place all his money on Deborah.
Ashe walked into Deborah's office, stopping directly behind Whitney, who was obviously unaware of his presence.
"It's going to be a delightful evening. Simply everyone will be there. You must come. If you don't, I'll never forgive you. After all, George's fortieth birthday celebration should be something for him to remember."
"Of course I'll be there," Deborah said. "I wouldn't miss it." Deborah looked over her cousin's shoulder, making direct eye contact with Ashe, who couldn't seem to erase the lopsided grin off his face. The very sound of Whitney's voice grated on his nerves. Why had he never noticed how whiny she sounded?
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