White Wedding for a Southern Belle by Susan Carlisle Page B

the sink, she sang along softly to the love song on the radio. She stopped and looked over her shoulder through the arched doorway to the hall.
    Was someone there?
    It wasn’t so much what she heard but how she felt. Seeing nothing, she started to place vegetables into the skillet for a stir-fry. She gave the pan on the burner a shake. Between songs, the creak of a board she knew well had her turning around. Marko stood in the doorway. She dropped the skillet, spilling half-cooked vegetables across the floor.
    â€œHow did you get in here?”
    He had a smirk on his face. “The same way I go anywhere I want.”
    â€œYou broke in.” She walked to the center of the room and pointed toward the door. “Get out, Marko.”
    â€œWho died and made you the boss of me?”
    â€œMarko, you know I’m not afraid of you.” He stepped toward her. Ashley remained where she was, refusing to be intimidated despite her heart beating against her ribs.
    â€œYou should be,” he snarled. “I own Southriver. Don’t force me to make you pay.”
    â€œDon’t threaten me.”
    He moved into her personal space. Ashley couldn’t stop the shudder that went through her. She smelled his beer-laden breath as it brushed her face. He snarled, “I’m not threatening you. I’m making you a promise.”
    Ashley backed away until she butted up against the counter. Marko matched her step for step. He leaned in and picked up the knife she’d put in the sink. She sucked in a breath when he brought it to her face.
    â€œI’d hate for you to have an accident.”
    â€œAshley.” Kiefer’s voice came from the stairwell seconds before he stepped through the door.
    Marko was already disappearing around the opening in the direction of her outside door.
    Kiefer looked from him to her. “What the...?”
    Ashley slid down the cabinet to the floor. Her pulse raced. She put her arms around her legs and her head on her knees.
    * * *
    Kiefer wasn’t sure what had been going on but it was too close to déjà vu for him. The situation reminded him of what had happened to his mother. In two strides he was across the width of the kitchen and looking down the hall. The outside door stood open. The screen was still slapping against the frame. He pushed the main door closed and locked it before returning to the kitchen.
    Ashley still sat on the floor and he crouched down beside her. Gathering her into his arms, he held her. To his surprise she didn’t fight him, instead buried her head in his chest. Soft sobs racked her body.
    He brushed his hand over her hair. “Shh, I’m right here. You’re safe.”
    They stayed that way for a few minutes until Ashley slowly pulled away. Kiefer let his hold ease but didn’t completely release her. He brushed her hair from her face and looked into red eyes and a pale face. The strong woman he was so familiar with had disappeared. Compassion filled him. “Will you tell me what happened?”
    She looked at him for a moment as if she didn’t understand him. Finally she said, “Marko stopped by for a visit.”
    â€œThere was more to it than that.” He looked at the food surrounding them.
    She gave him a sad smile and a little nod that reminded him of a young girl who had broken her doll. It was less about heartache and more about disappointment.
    â€œHe threatened me with the knife.”
    â€œHe what? I’m calling the police.” Kiefer reached in his pocket for the phone.
    â€œDon’t.” She grabbed his wrist.
    â€œYou have to report this.”
    â€œI can’t. I babysat him. Our families were friends. I wasn’t crying over what he did just now but over the loss of that sweet kid, the one who wasn’t so angry with life and injustice.”
    Kiefer leaned back and looked at her. She was an amazing person. Here she had been threatened with a knife in her own home