Murphy's Law (8 page)

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, Abby
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.

He was going to get answers.

* * * *

Murphy parked beside what remained of
Sara’s vehicle and ran a hand through his hair. It had been burned to the
ground, leaving only a steel frame. Someone had made damn sure she couldn’t
leave town. This changed things. No way could he turn her away now. This wasn’t
a marital issue or an angry boyfriend. Someone was determined to get to Sara.
Murphy couldn’t turn his back on that. On her.

It explained why she was up here alone.
She was on the run. Whoever had done this wouldn’t stop. Not until someone made
them.

Cursing, he backed down the driveway and
headed toward his cabin. Time to get the rest of the story. He would get
answers.

* * * *

Sara heard Murphy’s truck pull up to the
cabin and the engine shut off. She hurried to the front door and peeked out to
be sure it was him. The dark expression on his face told her something had gone
wrong. She opened the door and stepped out, crossing her arms over her waist as
Murphy moved with long, angry strides toward her.

From the bottom step, he towered over
her. His eyes were hard when they met hers.

“It’s time for answers, Sara.”

She swallowed. “You couldn’t get the
tires?”

“No, I found the tires, but they aren’t
going to help on a vehicle that’s burned to the ground.”

She gasped, her hand flying to her
throat. “Oh no.”

“Tonight, after Abby goes to bed, you
and I are going to have a talk, and you’re going to tell me who it is your
running from.”

Sara shivered and nodded in defeat. She
couldn’t avoid it any longer. The time had come to tell Murphy everything.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to
know,” she said and turned and walked inside.

* * * *

Hours later, after a shower which didn’t
soothe her nerves, Sara put on a pair of jeans and t-shirt and took a deep
breath. Murphy was waiting for her. Abby had gone down an hour ago. Sara
disappeared into the bathroom to collect herself before their talk. Her past
humiliated her. She didn’t want to tell Murphy she’d sold her soul to belong in
that family.

Looking back now, she wondered why she
had tried so hard to belong in a family who never accepted her in the first
place. They’d never had any intentions of it and she’d foolishly thought they
would eventually treat her as one of them. Somehow, she’d justified it and let
them brainwash her into believing she needed to become a socially adept,
imitation version of a woman.

After towel drying her hair and brushing
out the tangles, she gathered her courage and walked out of the bathroom.
Murphy came from his bedroom at the same time, and her breath caught in her
throat. He had removed his flannel shirt and wore only a snug t-shirt hugging
his muscular chest and arms, and a pair of low-rise jeans. Desire spiraled
through her so strong her knees went weak. She swallowed and met his gaze from
across the room, hoping he couldn’t read her thoughts. His eyes narrowed
slightly, but he didn’t make a comment. Instead, he strode into the kitchen and
returned a minute later with two cups of coffee. He handed her one and they
settled on the couch.

“Tell me who destroyed your cabin and
burned your vehicle,” Murphy said after a moment when she didn’t speak.

Sara took a deep breath. “In order for
you to understand why I had to run, you have to understand the family I’m
running from. You see, I come from the poorer part of Chicago and the man I
married came from the wealthy part. I lived in an apartment, he lived in a
mansion. I was nobody, and he was a lawyer who came from a family of lawyers.
See the pattern here?”

Murphy said nothing and waited for her
to continue.

“The Benchleys are a close knit family
who live by a strict code. I didn’t fit within that code so they rejected me.
They tried to get Kent to divorce me but he refused. He loved to stir the pot
and I made the perfect spoon. I don’t think Kent ever loved me. He cared for
me, but I was another one of his toys he used to torment his family with. He
was a selfish, spoiled bastard who never cared what his rebellion would do to
me. Once we were married, we moved into the main house and my six-year
incarceration began. They molded me into the proper wife and daughter-in-law
until soon I forgot who I was. I lost my identity and still haven’t gotten it
back.”

Sara paused to sip her coffee, aware of
Murphy’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look at him. She didn’t think she could
handle seeing his reaction right now. It was hard enough admitting what she’d
done. She didn’t need to see her mistakes too.

“Your daughter changed things,” he
guessed.

“Yes. Kent isolated himself from us,
started working late, sometimes not even coming home. Eventually he moved out
of our bedroom. I noticed the family taking less notice of me and showing more
interest in Abby. She was one of them by blood and they were determined to mold
her into the girl they thought she should be. I was nothing to them, one of
them by marriage only and they made it clear Abby was the one they wanted. I
began making plans to leave Kent, and started tucking money away to support us.
I had signed a pre-nuptial agreement when we married, so I would get nothing in
the divorce or upon Kent’s death.

“He…he died in a car accident with his
mistress. He had just come from a party, he’d drunk too much, was driving too
fast, lost control and crashed into a telephone pole. They died instantly.
Chelsea managed to cover it up, keep it out of the media so Kent died a hero.

“The day after the funeral they made it
clear they wanted Abby. They began keeping her from me and it scared me. They
had the money and power to take her and I would be powerless to stop them. They
had me committed to a mental hospital for three days to prove I was an unfit
mother, but the charges didn’t stick. The doctor in charge of my care refused
to be bought off, by the grace of God. If he hadn’t, I would still be there and
Abby would be theirs.”

A sob rose in her throat. She pushed it
down. It hadn’t happened, Abby was here with her, and safe for now. She
remembered those three days with painful clarity. The fear of never seeing Abby
again, the desperation for someone to believe her and the agony of being away
from her daughter. It had been the longest three days of her life and she had
never felt so helpless. Or alone.

“The day I returned, I packed our bags
and disappeared that night. I’ve been on the run ever since. I knew
Chelsea--Kent’s mother--would send her oldest son, Stephen, after me since he
handled all of Kent’s indiscretions. He’s been one step behind me the entire
time.”

“Tell me what these people are involved
in.”

Sara told him about the reputation they
had built. How no one would touch them, which was the reason she’d been forced
to run. No one could fight them, no one did. Murphy listened silently, not
offering anything, thank goodness, because telling him was hard enough.

“I screwed up, Murphy. I married the
wrong man for the wrong reasons and now my daughter is paying the price. She’s
been torn away from the only home she ever knew, moved from one place to the
next and forced to wear disguises. She lives in fear they are going to find us
and take her away. I can’t give her peace of mind because the fear is real. If
Stephen catches up with us, he will hurt me and take Abby.”