Murphy's Law

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Murphy's Law Page 8

by Jennifer Lowery


  He was wrong. What she and Murphy shared wasn’t ordinary or common. He could deny it all he wanted, but there was something between them. It scared him enough to cause his retreat. Maybe it was for the best, but she just couldn’t bring herself to believe that. Her body certainly didn’t believe it. It still thrummed with unreleased energy.

  Groaning, she patted Abby’s side of the bed and bolted upright. She searched frantically around the room. When she didn’t see her, she threw the quilt off and ran out of the room, heart pounding in her chest. She checked the bathroom and found it empty. Panic settled like a fist around her chest as she ran toward the kitchen. Two figures sat at the table. Her bare feet slid to a stop on the cool wood floor. Tears of relief filled her eyes.

  Murphy sat at the head of the table, a tall glass of milk in front of him and a small round cookie in his hand. A package of Oreos lay on the table. Abby sat next to him, a shorter glass of milk in front of her, and a cookie in her hand. She concentrated on Murphy and didn’t see Sara standing there. Although Murphy didn’t look at her, he surely knew she was there.

  Murphy held up the cookie and waited for Abby to do the same. When she held hers up, he showed her how to twist the top of the cookie off. With a determined set to her mouth, Abby did exactly as he showed her and twisted the cookie apart. She grinned when she finished and held it out to Murphy, who nodded and licked the white creme filling off the remaining piece of his. Sara’s breath caught in her throat as she watched his tongue stroke the cookie. The night before came rushing back with a vengeance.

  Abby giggled and copied him. Sara forced herself to breathe as Murphy dipped the cookie into his milk and popped it into his mouth. Abby did the same, but she wasn’t able to fit the whole cookie in her mouth so she bit it in two and shoved a half in each cheek. She looked like a chipmunk, and Sara had to smile. Abby had absolutely no fear of Murphy or his scar. She trusted him. Sara longed for such a bond, such trust. Wished she could go back in time and start over. Do things right.

  They made a striking picture and Sara wished she had been able to salvage her drawing pad and pencils from the cabin. Once upon a time she had wanted to be an art teacher, but life had other plans for her. Now that she and Abby were traveling the countryside, she longed to pick up drawing again.

  She committed the picture to memory so she could draw it later when she bought a new pad and pencils. Murphy was not a forgettable man, so she doubted she would ever erase him from her memory.

  She watched Murphy and Abby share two more cookies using the same procedure. Was this a typical bachelor’s breakfast? Murphy wasn’t typical, so how could it be? How sweet, he had a vice like Oreo cookies.

  Not to mention one he followed a strict procedure for. A sensual, sexy procedure that set butterflies to flight low in her belly whenever she imagined his tongue stroking that cookie.

  Pasting a frown on her face and crossing her arms over her chest, Sara stepped forward and glanced from one to the other, eyebrow raised. Abby’s face lit up and she jumped off her chair to run to Sara and fling her arms around her legs. Sara smiled and swung her into her arms, hugging her close. Abby wiggled to get down and started signing about Murphy and his cookies. Sara nodded and answered the best she could in between Abby’s movements. When she finished, Abby returned to her chair and reached into the package for another cookie.

  Sara pinned Murphy with a disapproving stare.

  He had the decency to appear repentant.

  “Oreos for breakfast? Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “Figured you needed the sleep.”

  Had he heard her tossing and turning all night?

  “I’d rather get up with Abby. I don’t want to impose any more than we have already.”

  Abby tapped Murphy’s shoulder and he turned his attention to her. He nodded when she twisted the top off her cookie and licked the creme filling. Abby grinned and dunked it into her milk before eating it. The patient expression Murphy used and the way he communicated so well with her daughter made her want to walk over and kiss him.

  Kent had never been able to understand Abby. He’d refused to learn sign language and relied on Sara to do the talking for him. He’d isolated himself from his wife and daughter from day one and it had left its mark on both of them. Abby was young and resilient, she didn’t know any different, but Sara did. It made her hate her former husband even more. God knew, he had given her plenty of reasons.

  Murphy returned his gaze to hers, the warmth he’d shown Abby gone. “You aren’t imposing. Do you have a problem with me keeping an eye on your daughter?”

  Sara blinked. “What? No, of course not. I was thinking of you…never mind. How about if we start over? Good morning, Murphy, thank you for entertaining Abby while I slept in.”

  She sounded like a machine and she could have sworn she saw amusement dance in Murphy’s eyes, but he pushed out of his chair before she could be sure. He picked up the bag of Oreos and held up three fingers to Abby, whose head bobbed in understanding before she picked up her glass of milk and drank. Sara watched the exchange between the two in awe.

  “What did you tell her?” she asked, following Murphy into the kitchen.

  “That she’ll get a stomachache if she eats more than three cookies at a time,” Murphy answered as he put the cookies away.

  Sara couldn’t help but notice the way his jeans molded his very nice backside. Mercy, the man had a body to die for and he looked great in jeans. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips so she could speak.

  Murphy turned around and paused when he noticed where she had been looking. A dark frown formed between his brows. Abruptly, he brushed past her and headed toward the front door. He grabbed his parka and shrugged it on.

  “I’ll be back at dark.” The door closed after him.

  Sara sighed and turned to Abby, who wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Since Murphy was determined to avoid her all day, she would have to find something else to do. His cabin could use a good cleaning. Maybe she’d find a pad of paper and a pencil while doing it.

  At least it would take her mind off the ruggedly handsome man who invaded her every thought day and night.

  * * * *

  Murphy kept his distance the next few days. He left early in the morning and didn’t return until late afternoon. Sara didn’t know what he did when he left, and she didn’t ask. Murphy had made it clear he didn’t want a repeat of what they had almost done on the kitchen table and though Sara did, she didn’t push the issue.

  Sometimes she would catch him watching her while she played with Abby. She could never read his expression. He coveted his privacy, so Sara stayed out of his way as much as possible.

  It became a morning ritual for him and Abby to have three Oreos before breakfast. Sara didn’t complain. Murphy didn’t seem to mind, so neither did she. Abby had so little fun in her life, there was no harm in a couple cookies shared with a man of few words. Abby was happy sitting at the table, milk and cookie in hand, and Sara wouldn’t ruin that for her.

  It had also become ritual for Sara to make breakfast while the two of them shared their morning snack. She would catch Murphy watching Abby’s hand signals with a keen eye and could almost see him committing them to memory. He studied and learned, showing an intelligent mind, and he was a quick study--by the third day he was signing to Abby across the table. At first he fumbled with the words, causing Abby to giggle and correct him by showing him the right way to form his hands.

  Murphy didn’t treat Abby like a china doll and he didn’t expect her to be anyone else. That touched Sara deeply. They had spent so much of their time acting a certain way, they had forgotten how to be themselves. Sara had shielded Abby from the constant disapproval of the family the best she could, but they had gotten to her in small doses.

  Sara shuddered and dipped her hands into the soapy water in the sink. Murphy and Abby sat at the table dunking Oreos. The man had an endless supply. As much as Sara didn’t want it to be true, Abb
y counted on Murphy spending his mornings with her. She was forming an attachment. Sara sighed in regret that she would have to take her away when the road opened.

  Absently washing a glass, she let her thoughts drift to the cabin Stephen had destroyed. She’d known right away who was responsible because she had seen it before. Stephen had always given her the chills. From the first day she’d met him she’d known he would be trouble. Boy, had she been right. Stephen made it clear from day one when he wanted something he got it, and she may as well accept it. He’d made it very clear he wanted her. Sara suspected he only wanted her because she’d belonged to Kent. She’d spent the next six years avoiding Stephen, which had been a difficult task. He was the reason she’d locked her door at night after Kent moved out of her bedroom. Stephen scared her, plain and simple.

  An icy chill swept up her spine and she shuddered. If Stephen ever caught up to her… A hand cupped her chin, startling her. She found herself staring into Murphy’s eyes before she could fully bring herself out of her thoughts. He frowned and searched her face.

  “You’re white as a sheet. Has you’re headache returned?” he asked.

  Sara blinked. “No, I--”

  “You’re trembling. What the hell’s going on with you?” he demanded, plowing right over her.

  “Nothing. I was just thinking.”

  Murphy’s eyes narrowed like they did when he searched deep into her soul and tried to read her secrets. Wouldn’t surprise her if he could. Murphy didn’t miss much. Part of her wanted to let him, and the other part didn’t want him involved. She suspected Murphy could handle whatever came his way, but she didn’t want him to have to. She could ignore the little part of her that longed to lean on someone. The same little part that urged her to turn into Murphy’s arms and let him hold her until the past released its grip.

  Afraid Murphy would force her into baring her soul, she looked away.

  He let her go and stepped back. “The road should be open enough I can get my truck through. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

  Sara spun around, soapy water from her hands leaving a trail on the floor. “What do you mean be back this afternoon? What about us? I need to get to town and pick up tires for my SUV.”

  Murphy shook his head. “You aren’t going to town. I am. I’ll take care of the tires. Then I’ll come back for you and drive you to your vehicle. It’s safer if you stay here.”

  He was protecting her. The realization settled heavily in Sara’s heart. She turned away so he didn’t see her emotions. No one had ever protected her and it felt too damn good. It made her realize how easy it would be to let Murphy take care of her, but she’d sworn when she left she wouldn’t let a man take care of her again. The last time had been disastrous.

  Dipping her hands into the dishwater, Sara said, “I’ll pay you for the tires and your time.”

  “No, you won’t. Where are your keys?”

  Sara blinked back tears of relief and gratitude as she retrieved her keys. He didn’t know it, but he had just given her the means to leave town. She could spend the money she’d saved for tires on repairs for the cabin and use the rest to fill the gas tank and get out of town. She would worry about what to do next after they were far away from Stephen. With a shimmer of hope, she handed her keys to Murphy, who waited in front of the door with Abby tugging on his pant leg.

  “She thinks you’re going for a walk.” She dropped the keys into his hand and picked Abby up. “One of our favorite things to do is go for walks and look at birds. We have journals in the SUV filled with drawings from our adventures. It was the only…never mind. Sorry, I’m sure you’re in a hurry.”

  The way Murphy studied her made her want to bristle. She always said too much around him.

  “You’re doing it again.”

  “What?”

  “Apologizing for things you shouldn’t. What did he do to you, Sara?” he murmured. Then, as if realizing he’d said the thought aloud, turned and walked out the door.

  Sara stared at the closed door for a good long minute, waiting for her heart to slow down to a normal pace. She couldn’t explain why Murphy’s softly spoken question made her heart pound and her mouth go dry. Maybe because he rarely showed a softer side, and it touched her deeply. A compassionate man lay beneath the scowls and gruff attitude. If she hadn’t been so close to leaving him behind, she would have enjoyed discovering that man.

  With a heavy heart and sadness she hadn’t felt since her mother passed away, Sara hugged Abby and walked into the bedroom to pack their things. All the while trying to tell herself the sorrow she felt wasn’t because she was falling for the taciturn man who had saved her daughter’s life.

  Chapter 8

  Murphy parked in front of Al’s Garage in the small, sleepy town at the base of the mountain. He had met Al, the owner, when he’d needed a winch for his SUV and knew he would use discretion.

  He climbed out of his truck, made a quick scan of the garage and strode toward the double doors and the two vehicles Al was working on.

  The balding man looked up when Murphy walked inside, nodded and pulled a greasy rag out of the pocket of his overalls to wipe his hands. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need a tow truck and four tires put on a Jeep Cherokee. Pick up at this address. After dark.” Murphy pressed a wad of bills and a slip of paper into the man’s grease stained hand. “And for you to forget I was here.”

  Al nodded, tucking the cash into his breast pocket. “Jeep Cherokee, huh? Let me make sure I have them.”

  Murphy waited while Al checked on the tires, his thoughts straying to the woman at his cabin. Damned if his thoughts didn’t turn in her direction. She had stumbled into his life and turned it upside down. Her and Abby both. The little girl had grown on him with her honey colored curls, big blue eyes and sunny smile. The spitting image of her mother. Dammit, why did he long for their company?

  Although he didn’t want to get involved…what was the rest of her story? He had seen the despair in her eyes this morning and felt her trembling. Her fear shook him more than he dared admit. He already had second thoughts about sending her out on her own. Dammit.

  He had no choice, but if Sara was in real trouble he couldn’t send her away. Until she told him what they were dealing with, his hands were tied. Damn, he could go crazy thinking about this.

  Murphy pinched the bridge of his nose and Sara’s face flashed through his head. The relief and gratitude in her eyes when he’d told her he was going to go get the tires for her. The vulnerability that made him want to run in the opposite direction. He hated seeing that look in her eyes. It stirred all kinds of protective instincts inside him. It made him want to possess and keep her. He had no intentions of doing either.

  “Got four used ones.” Al approached minutes later.

  Murphy nodded and pushed his thoughts away. One day at a time, that was how he had been living since his return from Azbakastan and that’s how he would handle Sara. If he could survive nine months of captivity, then he could survive a few days with a beautiful woman.

  Murphy drove to Franklin Rentals and parked out front of the small cabin on the edge of town. He walked up the steps and pushed through the door, taking in the young woman sitting behind the desk across from the door. She looked up when he strode in, and pulled back in her chair, a tiny gasp escaping her lips before she collected herself.

  Murphy had grown used to the reaction--it followed him everywhere he went. He knew the scar running the length of his face was unsightly.

  He approached the desk and watched the woman slide back in her chair a little more. She’d be on the floor if she moved back any farther.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  “I need to speak to Ed Franklin.”

  “May I ask what this is about?”

  “No.”

  Surprise lit her eyes and she took on a haughty expression. “Your name, please?”

  Murphy glanced over her shoulder just as a door opened
behind her. A short, dark-haired man stepped out and looked at Murphy with wariness.

  “It’s okay, Marla. I’ll see him.”

  Marla motioned him past.

  Murphy followed Ed Franklin into his office and closed the door behind him.

  “Have a seat.”

  Murphy remained standing as the older man took a seat behind his desk.

  “What can I do for you?”

  Murphy dropped a stack of bills on the polished desk. Ed Franklin’s eyes widened before he glanced up at him.

  “That should cover the damage to the cabin on Old Mill road. The lady won’t need it anymore.”

  Red-faced, Ed glared at Murphy. “What happened to my cabin?”

  “Someone demolished it. This covers the repairs and your silence.”

  The threat was delivered softly. Murphy pinned the man with a lethal stare, daring him to refuse. He had never met Ed Franklin, but one glance at the expensive suit and furnishings told him this man liked extravagant things. Lifestyles like that needed to be fed. So Murphy fed him and tossed another hundred on the desk.

  The money disappeared into the man’s hand. On top of the insurance claim, he was making one hell of a profit for his silence.

  “If anyone asks, the woman you rented to just up and left without notice. Got it?”

  Ed Franklin fanned the cash. “Yeah, I got it. Haven’t seen her. No problem.”

  Murphy braced his hands on the desktop and waited until Ed looked up. His scowl made the man sit back in his chair and hold the cash protectively against his chest.

  “You know nothing and I was never here,” Murphy said.

  The man nodded. “Right. Haven’t seen her, never met you. Got it.”

  “I’ll be back if I hear any different.”

  “You won’t have to come back,” Ed said, sweat beading his brow.

  The threat delivered the desired effect. Murphy straightened and walked out of the office without a backward glance. He hesitated when he climbed in his truck, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He swept the area around him. The Beretta tucked into the waistband of his jeans was little comfort against an enemy he couldn’t see. Unable to shake the feeling, Murphy drove out of town with one thought in mind.

 

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