Murphy's Law

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Murphy's Law Page 12

by Jennifer Lowery


  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 sh
e 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.”

  “You’re right, I wouldn’t have let you involve your family in this and I’m still not very happy about it, but I forgive you. I love it here, Murphy. You’re mother is wonderful.”

  Something flickered across his face. “Yeah, she’s one of a kind.”

  Sara’s expression softened. “And you have some things to work out with her that I’ve forced you to face.”

  He tensed. Withdrawing from her again. She wished he wouldn’t, but didn’t push.

  “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  “I do worry, Murphy. Family is all you have in this life. Nothing else matters.”

  She watched him back out of her room, and resisted a sigh. He was such a strong man who faced things head on and without fail, so why did he resist this?

  Sara took a step toward him and watched in amusement as he retreated another step. His gaze dropped to her legs and he scowled. That made her smile.

  “Murphy?”

  “What?” he grumbled.

  “I would never disgrace your mother in her home but I would be more than happy to go sightseeing with you sometime soon. Maybe we could pack a blanket and a picnic lunch.”

  The suggestion in her tone made his scowl turn downright surly. Butterflies erupted in her stomach at the prospect. She wanted this more than anything.

  “For God’s sake, Sara,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair.

  Endearing, to see this big, strong man uneasy because of her.

  “No, for our sakes. I know you feel it. Is it so wrong to act on how we feel?”

  He let out a harsh breath. “Yes, it is.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not ready to share that part of my life with anyone.”

  Sara drew back as if he’d slapped her. “I can respect that. Goodnight, Murphy.”

  She shut the door before he could see the tears about to overflow from her eyes.

  * * * *

  Murphy let out a string of curses that would put a sailor to shame, and took a step toward Sara’s door, his hand raised, then stepped back and dropped his hand.

  Damn. He’d made her cry again. He hated seeing tears in those pretty blue eyes. It made him want to do things he shouldn’t, like wrap his arms around her and comfort her. And if he did that, then it would lead to other things, and they were much more dangerous than a few tears. He wanted Sara in the worst way and he knew once he got her in his arms, he wasn’t going to let her go.

  Letting go was exactly what he had to do. She needed a fresh start. Not a scarred, ex Army Ranger who couldn’t ever have children. He wasn’t relationship material. Sara deserved more than what he could give. A man without honor was a man without a soul.

  After one last glance at her door, he turned on a heel and disappeared into his own room. Tomorrow he would sit down with James and Paul and put together a plan to protect the women from Stephen Benchley. He would be ready and he would make it very clear to Benchley if he ever came near Sara or Abby again, he would deal with him personally. One way or another, he would set Sara free from her past and then he would become a piece of it.

  * * * *

  Murphy’s sisters were not at all what Sara expected. MaryAnn was tall and thin as a rail with short dark hair and her mother’s blue eyes. She welcomed Sara with a smile and a hug and introduced her to her husband, an ex-detective. James was MaryAnn’s height, and had a crushing hand shake. A handsome man with a face that bespoke a difficult past life, friendly but aloof. Their children were adorable and took to Abby right away. Combined with Justine and Paul’s two kids, Abby was set. The five children disappeared outside. Though Sara worried, she knew Abby was safe with Murphy’s family.

  Sara instantly took to Justine: Sara’s age with chestnut hair and Murphy’s gray eyes. Her husband, Paul, a born and raised rancher, walked with a cowboy’s swagger and flashed an easy smile. He made her feel instantly at home and welcomed her with a hug. Sara had never been hugged so much in her life, and she wasn’t complaining. This was a genuine, openly friendly family. They lifted her spirits after the conversation she’d had with Murphy before bed. She hadn’t been able to sleep because of what he’d said to her. It hurt that he didn’t trust her enough to share his secrets.

  He made himself scarce after having his morning Oreos with Abby. He worked on the ranch from morning until night, though Sara didn’t know what he did out there. She had never been on a cattle ranch and had no idea what to do. She mostly stayed inside, helping Alice and talking with Justine and MaryAnn. They were friendly and fun loving, always including her in things, and helped her adjust to ranch life.

  She learned Murphy’s sisters lived on the property and helped run it with Alice. Their husbands were full time ranchers who loved the life. MaryAnn’s husband had retired from law enforcement to work the ranch.

  Sara was soon sketching like a madwoman. She sketched Murphy’s entire family and the ranch every chance she got. Word soon spread that she was an artist and she had everyone peeking over her shoulder to see what she was working on. The kids posed for their pictures and broke out in giggles every time Sara drew silly faces on them.

  They took Abby under their wing and soon all of them were signing and communicating, which brought tears to Sara’s eyes. This was the life she had always imagined for Abby. Surrounded by a family who accepted her. They had been here a week and already were falling in love with this place and the people. She hated to think danger might lurk around the corner. She would be responsible for bringing it into these nice people’s lives. Murphy had told them everything and she suspected he had taken measures to ensure their safety, though he did it in private. She knew him well enough to know he had.

  No matter how goo
d she started to feel, the past always seemed to bring her down. It hung over her like a dark cloud and would rain on her soon. This was only a temporary fantasy.

  Now, sitting in a rocking chair on the back porch with sketchpad in hand, she drew the sunset as it colored the sky with brilliant oranges and reds. It framed the barns in the distance and made a stunning picture.

  A hand fell softly on her shoulder and she looked up to see Justine smiling down at her. “Hi, can I interrupt?”

  Sara smiled and motioned to the chair next to her. “Sure, please, sit,” she offered, chuckling as the kids came running around the corner of the house with Grover barking behind them. Abby was in the middle and looked so happy Sara wanted to cry. The smile on her daughter’s face was wide as the sky, and she looked ready to burst with excitement. She waved at Sara, who waved back and blew her a kiss.

  “Abby’s a doll,” Justine said. “The kids adore her.”

  Sara watched Abby roll across the grass with Grover. “She’s never been this happy.”

  “What about you?”

  Sara turned to look at Justine, who watched her with tender eyes. She was going to miss her when she and Abby had to leave.

  “I love it here,” she admitted. “It’s so quiet and peaceful. It doesn’t feel like there’s a big, bad world out there.”

  Justine reached over and touched her arm. “You know you and Abby are safe here, don’t you, Sara? Jon wouldn’t have brought you here if he didn’t believe he could protect you.”

  “I know, but you don’t know Stephen. He’s…”

  “Going to be a part of your past very soon. I know my brother is hard to read and doesn’t like to talk much, but he has things under control. He and James and Paul have already handled security around the ranch and talked to the folks in town.”

  That burden settled heavily on Sara’s shoulders. The last thing she wanted to do was bring her troubles into this beautiful place.

  “He hasn’t told me anything about that. He’s been avoiding me.”

  Justine nodded in understanding. “Jon has had a rough time since his return from Azbakastan. He hasn’t shared his experience with us. Whatever happened pushed him away. It hurts us to see him suffering, but until he’s ready he isn’t going to let us in. Jon has always been tight-lipped, but not like this. Not to the point that he cuts himself off from his family.”

 

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