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Authors: Jennifer Lowery

Murphy's Law (11 page)

BOOK: Murphy's Law
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But, the more time she spent with Murphy
the more she wanted to know him, despite the consequences. She wanted to be the
one to erase the haunted look from eyes and heal his wounds. To make him smile.
Know the story behind the scars and the reason he lived alone in the mountains.
He had so much to offer a woman, why did he live like a recluse?

“Murphy?”

“What?”

“Are you angry with me for kissing you?”

“No.”

“Would you be if I did it again?”

His head snapped sideways and he cast
her a look of surprise before turning his eyes back to the road. What possessed
her to ask such a blunt question, she didn’t know, but she didn’t regret it.
She wanted to kiss him again. Longed to do a whole lot more than that. Damn the
rest. If she didn’t start living for today, she would never be free. Or happy.
Life was about making mistakes, and learning from them.

“Sara--”

Abby tapped on Sara’s shoulder and cut
off whatever Murphy was going to say. She turned around to see Abby squirming.

“Is there a rest stop anywhere near?”
she asked.

“There’s a truck stop a couple miles up
the road.”

“Can we stop, please? That last milk
went straight through her.”

“Sure.”

Sara let Abby know they would get her to
a bathroom in a couple minutes, and turned around. The tense set to Murphy’s
jaw indicated he wasn’t going to finish their conversation. With a tiny smile,
she focused her attention on the scenery outside her window. There would be
time later. She wasn’t finished with him. Before this was over, she would kiss
him again. Maybe he would kiss her in return, because she just couldn’t get it
out of her mind.

She was looking forward to it. And more.

* * * *

Sara heard the sound in her sleep. At
first she thought it was Abby whimpering, but as she drifted out of sleep she
realized the sound came from the bed beside her. Her eyes opened and she lay
very still, listening.

It didn’t come again, but she heard the
faint rustle of Murphy’s blankets from beside her and turned to look at him. In
the shadows illuminated by the outdoor lights of the motel, she could see him
sitting on the edge of his bed, his back to her. His elbows rested on his
knees, his head bowed. She could see tension in every muscle and knew instantly
he’d had another nightmare.

Unable to ignore his pain, Sara slipped
quietly out of bed and climbed across his until she knelt behind him.

Anguish radiated from every pore and
Sara felt for him. He had suffered in the past and it hurt her. She reached out
a tentative hand and touched his shoulder. His muscles bunched beneath her
touch. So much strength and so much pain. What had he endured?

“Murphy,” she whispered. “Please talk to
me. Tell me what happened.”

“Go back to bed, Sara,” he said gruffly.

She couldn’t leave him like this, not
with his nightmares still lingering and the pain so raw.

“Trust me,” she murmured and pressed
herself against his back with her arms around his chest. She felt his sweat
dampened t-shirt and her breath caught in her throat. He suffered terribly and
she wanted to help him. “I’m a very good listener.”

Murphy stiffened, every muscle taut.
Sara held on tight, not letting him withdraw. She pressed her cheek against his
back and closed her eyes. She could feel his pain and it broke her heart.

They sat for a several minutes until
Murphy reached up and covered her hands with one of his. He gave her a squeeze
and spoke in a low, husky voice. “Maybe another time. It’ll be light soon. You
need to get some sleep.”

Hurt because he wouldn’t confide in her,
Sara pressed a kiss to the back of his neck and felt him shudder. He wasn’t
immune to her, just kept himself behind a wall of rigid self-control. What
would it take to shatter that wall?

With her lips close to his ear, she
repeated the words he had once said to her. “You can’t stall me forever,
Murphy.”

Then she moved away from him and climbed
into bed with Abby, who still slept soundly.

Murphy moved quietly into the bathroom.
When he came out, he didn’t return to bed. Instead, he pulled a chair in front
of the window and stayed there until morning. Protecting them as they slept,
and overcoming his nightmares.

 

Chapter
11

 

Sara immediately fell in love with North
Dakota. Clear blue skies overlooked rolling prairies and wheat farms. She put
her window down and let the warm breeze wash over her. Abby did the same and
could hardly sit still, sensing the end of their journey. Murphy, on the other
hand, grew even more somber.

Behind them, Abby stared out the window
in awe of this new place. They had moved around so much Sara feared the effects
it would have on a girl her age, but Abby viewed every new place as an
adventure. She was resilient and trusting and made Sara want to protect her
even more. The Benchleys would smother that light until it died completely.

“Won’t be long now.”

Sure enough, the terrain began to
change. It became more chaotic with heavy erosion forming rugged land with deep
gullies and rock formations. Wild and beautiful, it put Sara in sensory
overload. “I’ve never been in the badlands.” She committed pictures to memory
to draw the first chance she got. She couldn’t wait to get to her drawing pad
and start sketching.

They passed through a historical little
town Sara instantly fell in love with. She wanted to stop and investigate
further, but the firm set to Murphy’s jaw kept her from asking. They traveled
another twenty minutes, then turned down a long, narrow, gravel road lined with
white fences on both sides. In the distance cattle and horses grazed on lush,
green grass in the warm afternoon sun. The endless pastures stretched for miles
and miles everywhere she looked. The fence reminded her of the picket fence
she’d dreamed about having one day and made her feel a little melancholy, but
she focused on the house coming into view in front of them.

The sprawling home had a wing on each
end and a covered porch in the center with hanging baskets of flowers and a
pair of old, wooden rocking chairs on one end. Warm and inviting, it made
Sara’s heart clench.

Murphy pulled to a stop in front of the
porch. A large, yellow dog came lumbering down the steps. Sara bit back a sob
as tears welled in her eyes.

Murphy climbed out. Collecting herself,
Sara opened her door. She stepped out as the front door flew open and a petite,
dark haired woman came rushing out onto the porch. She took one look at Murphy
and broke into a huge smile, opening her arms wide as she hurried down the
steps toward him.

Sara closed her door and grabbed Abby’s
hand as Murphy met the woman halfway and leaned in for a hug.

“Jon,” the woman said. “I’m so glad you
called. We’ve missed you.”

Sara lifted an eyebrow. Jon? Jon Murphy.
She liked it.

“Sorry this was so sudden,” Murphy said,
straightening.

The woman shook her head. “No, it was
too long,” she murmured, cupping his cheek and sharing a private moment. Sara
felt like an intruder, but couldn’t look away. Obviously this woman loved
Murphy very much. When she turned to them there were tears in her eyes. “And
you must be Sara and Abby. I’m Alice Murphy.”

Before Sara realized what was happening,
the woman had approached her and drew her into a hug. For a small woman she was
strong as an ox. Sara hugged her in return, meeting Murphy’s eyes over her
shoulder.
Mom?
He only shrugged. Stunned, she returned the hug. Murphy
had brought her home.

“You can call me Alice,” his mom said as
she knelt down and gave Abby a hug too. Abby giggled and hugged her back with
enthusiasm. Sara had to turn away for a moment to blink the tears out of her
eyes. Murphy’s mom, a woman she had never met, had welcomed them with open
arms. The sentiment was so unexpected, it overwhelmed her and brought tears to
her eyes. Foolish tears she couldn’t stop.

“Oh, dear, don’t do that,” Alice
crooned, putting an arm around Sara’s shoulders.

Sara felt like an even bigger fool when
her lower lip trembled. She wasn’t used to such kind acts.

“Oh, you poor dear. You’ve been through
it, haven’t you? Come in with me and we’ll get you settled with a nice cup of
tea. Everything’s going to be just fine. I promise.”

Sara made a complete fool of herself and
broke down in a heap of tears. She had longed to hear those very words for so
long, they impacted like a Mack truck into her deepest fears and regrets. She
was vaguely aware of being wrapped in a pair of comforting arms and led toward
the porch.

“Jon, grab the bags and bring them in
with Abby, would you, please? I’ll take care of Sara. Maybe Abby would like to
meet Grover.”

“I think she already has,” Murphy
muttered as they climbed the steps into the house.

Sara barely noticed the foyer or living
room and didn’t refuse the kitchen chair she was gently pushed into. She felt
like a complete idiot, breaking down like that. Struggling to gain control, she
sniffed and accepted the tissue passed to her.

Alice set a copper teakettle on the
stove and came around to sit beside Sara, who gave her a tiny, regretful smile
and drew in a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know
what came over me.”

“Don’t you worry about it, dear. It’s
good to let it out. This must be hard for you. I know my son isn’t the most
social man on Earth and his time in Azbakastan has made it worse, but his heart
is in the right place.”

Sara dabbed her eyes with the tissue. “Azbakastan?”
she repeated.

Alice stood and moved around the island
to remove the teapot from the burner. “Yes. Like his father, Jon was an Army
Ranger before he retired to the mountains. Here you go, dear, drink this. It
will make you feel much better.”

A stoneware mug appeared in front of her
and Sara wrapped both hands around it to control their trembling. Murphy an
Army Ranger? It made so much sense now. His tracking ability, the way he
handled a weapon and the way he always measured and watched. She had known
there was something special about him, but she hadn’t put the pieces together.
Now she had even more questions than before. The first one was, what had
happened in Azbakastan?

Questions swam in her head as she sipped
her tea. She started coughing when it burned its way down her throat. Alice had
spiked it with brandy, and no small amount.

Alice patted her back and chuckled. “You
drink that all up. It’ll have you relaxed in no time.”

Yeah, relaxed and tipsy. But Sara drank
it anyway, pleased when it started to calm her nerves.

“Your daughter is a beautiful child,
looks just like you,” Alice commented.

“Thanks. I…I really appreciate you
letting us come here. I know it was…unexpected and maybe a little
inconvenient.”

Alice waved a hand at her. “Nonsense,
you are more than welcome here. In fact, I should be thanking you.”

Sara couldn’t hide her surprise.
“Thanking me?”

Alice patted her hand. “Yes, for
bringing my son home.”

* * * *

Murphy slung his and Sara’s bags over
his shoulder, his eye on Abby, who was rolling around in the grass with Grover.
He knew the Lab wouldn’t hurt her, he was as gentle as they came. He might roll
with her until both of them were dust bunnies, but he wouldn’t harm her.

Sara’s reaction to his mother bothered
him. He hated it when she cried. He didn’t understand what started the tears
this time, and wished he didn’t feel so rotten. It was hard enough coming home
after almost two years and facing the family he had turned away. Adding Sara’s
distress to the equation, he didn’t need.

Damn. What had he been thinking,
bringing them home?

He glanced at the house and then at
Abby, who had her arms wrapped around Grover’s neck while being dragged toward
the porch with a giant smile on her face. Keeping them safe, that’s what he was
doing. He would see the enemy coming from miles away and could trust his family
to help protect them. He grew up here, knew the people of the town, who would
help too if he asked. He only hoped he wouldn’t need assistance.

After closing the back of the SUV, he
strode after Abby and opened the door for child and dog so they could tumble
through. The burden of his past weighed heavily on his shoulders as he walked
through the door and let it close quietly behind him. The day would come when
he would have to explain to his mom and sisters what had gone wrong in Azbakastan
and what it had cost him.

He just hadn’t thought it would be this
soon. Or under these circumstances.

* * * *

Sara didn’t see much of Murphy the rest
of the day. She and Abby spent their time with Alice touring the house. They
were given bedrooms next to each other. Though Sara wasn’t comfortable with
Abby having her own room, Abby was ecstatic. She couldn’t stop smiling over the
pink and white decor that Alice said had once belonged to her youngest
daughter, Justine, whom they would meet tomorrow. Sara’s room had belonged to
the oldest daughter, MaryAnn. It was a little less feminine than Abby’s, which
suited her fine.

They shared a delicious dinner with
Alice, during which Murphy was silent. The tension in his shoulders told Sara
there was unfinished business between him and his mom. Alice had thanked her
for bringing Murphy home. What had driven him away?

Abby dropped like a rock soon after
dinner and Sara excused herself too, feeling travel weary and in need of some
alone time. Alice suggested she take a long, hot bath with some of the bath
salts Justine made. Sara tucked Abby in bed and smiled at the big dog that had
taken up sentry beside her bed.

“You watch over her, Grover,” she said,
scratching the dog’s ears and earning a lick for her efforts. She felt
marginally better with the dog protecting Abby, though she knew they had
nothing to fear here. Murphy would never put them in harm’s way. It was just
hard putting her trust in someone else’s hands. So far she had done that with
Murphy and it had turned out all right. Could she afford to do it again?

Her clothes in her arms, she strode to
the end of the hall, past the bedroom Murphy had grown up in, and into the
bathroom. She left the door cracked in case Abby woke up and came looking for
her, and filled the garden size tub with hot, vanilla scented water. An array
of scented bath salts and soaps sporting pretty bottles and packages lined the
tub. Sara groaned when she lowered herself into the water and let the lovely
scents lull her muscles into jelly. She couldn’t remember the last time she had
felt so comfortable.

Family photos hung on every wall,
touches of Alice everywhere. Sara enjoyed looking at the photos of Murphy as a
young boy, all legs and determination. Even then he had worn a scowl. Alice
said he hated having his picture taken. There were pictures of the ranch,
Murphy and his sisters, their father in uniform, horses and cattle and the
beautiful landscape of the badlands.

One thought came to mind as she had
walked through the house. It was a home. This family cherished their values. To
think something had happened between Murphy and his family to sever those ties
broke Sara’s heart. Hard to imagine anything strong enough to do that. She
would give her left arm to share a bond so rare.

Already, she adored Alice--so full of
life and with the biggest, kindest heart of anyone she had ever met. She didn’t
judge her or Abby or expect them to be anything besides themselves. Abby had
run around all day playing with Grover, who had taken a liking to her. Not once
did she look scared or upset. Seeing the carefree, fun-loving child again had
done Sara’s heart good. Some of the weight had lifted off her shoulders. Maybe
her mistakes hadn’t left scars as deeply as she’d expected.

Sara sighed. If only the internal scars
she bore weren’t as deep. Would she ever forget the mistakes she’d made?

Once the water turned cool, she dried off,
dressed in her shorts and tank top and checked on Abby. She slept soundly on
her stomach with a hand hanging over the edge of the bed on Grover’s head. Sara
smiled and walked back to her room to unpack some of her things.

She hefted her bag onto the handmade
quilt atop her bed and unzipped it.

“You okay?”

Sara jumped at the sound of the quietly
spoken question and clamped a hand to her chest. Murphy filled her doorway. He
looked like he’d been rolling in the dirt with Abby and Grover all day too. She
knew he’d stayed away from the house on purpose and spent his time helping on
the ranch. Giving her time to adjust. Or, maybe, himself.

Sara ran to him and threw her arms
around his neck. She must have caught him off guard, because he grunted before
his arms came around her waist to steady her. He held himself rigid against
her, but she wasn’t deterred.

“Thank you, Murphy,” she whispered
against his neck.

“You were in tears earlier and now
you’re thanking me,” he said gruffly.

Sara stepped out of his arms and dipped
her head. “I had…” How to explain?

“A moment,” he finished for her.

“Yes, a moment. I have a lot of those,
don’t I?”

The hard lines of Murphy’s face relaxed
into a half smile. “I suppose it’s warranted, since I didn’t prepare you. I
knew you wouldn’t come if I told you the truth.”

BOOK: Murphy's Law
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