Murphy's Law (2 page)

“Hold tight, we’re going to climb a
small hill here. The ground is wet so try not to lose your footing,” her guide
instructed in the same gruff tone he’d used earlier.

He may as well have put her on a sled
and dragged her up the “small” hill. Her muscles protested the climb and she
willed her legs to move as he pulled her up without breaking stride. Her added
weight didn’t slow him down one iota, which suited her fine. It meant they
would reach Abby faster, all that mattered. Her own aches and pains were
meaningless.

Her breath sawed in and out by the time
the hill rounded and they reached even ground again. Her lungs burned from
exertion and the muscles in her legs were tight and shaky. She had thought
herself to be in good shape until now. Worse, the man in front of her wasn’t
even winded. Unwilling to quit, Sara trudged on behind him.

What must have been miles later, the man
stopped and turned to face her. Sara rested her hands on her knees and bent
over to catch her breath. A bottle of water appeared in front of her nose and
she gratefully accepted it and drank it down. A flashlight clicked on and shone
in her face. She blinked and turned away.

“Need an aspirin for the headache?” he
asked.

“No. How close are we to Abby’s
location?”

“Two miles.”

Sara watched him reach around his back
and fish a compact First Aid kit out of a pocket in his pack. He retrieved two
aspirins and held them out to her. She popped them into her mouth, then washed
them down with a swig of water and returned the bottle. He tucked it into the
pack and studied her. She wanted to bristle beneath his stare, but didn’t. No
way he could see inside her and read her deepest secrets, though it felt like
he tried.

Needing to distract him she asked,
“What’s your name?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Murphy.”

Sara nodded slowly, waiting for him to
give her the rest but he remained silent. “Just Murphy?”

“It’s enough. Let’s move.”

Sara drew in a deep breath and barely
managed to grab the back of his parka before he started walking away. The
flashlight turned off, plunging them into darkness once again. Clouds had moved
in and hid the moon from view. A stiff breeze picked up and chilled her through
the parka. She worried about Abby without a warm coat. Her light jacket
wouldn’t keep her warm in this wind.

Tears filled her eyes, but no matter how
much she needed to release the emotions building inside her, she held them
back. She would break down after Abby was safe. The fear she tried so hard to
keep at bay clawed at her like a caged animal, threatening to break free, but
Sara pushed it down. It would be too easy to fall apart. The what-ifs were
always in the back of her mind. What if Abby had fallen off the cliff too? What
if she was hurt and bleeding to death? What if she’d run across a bear? What if
she’d fallen in the river and been carried away by the current? What if they
didn’t find her?

The terrain became uneven and the forest
grew thicker around them. Sara ducked branches and stepped through thick
underbrush with difficulty. Murphy’s legs were longer than hers so he plowed
through easily. Sara stared longingly at his broad back and in a moment of
weakness wished she could climb on and let him carry her. Then she remembered
what relying on a white knight had done to her life. The moment passed.

She wondered about the scars. One ran
the length of his face, from temple to jaw, and was raw and jagged as if it had
been done by a dull edge. A car accident maybe? She had been surprised by the
scars and her heart went out to him, though she’d never let him know it. Murphy
didn’t seem the type of man to appreciate the attention.

“The wind is picking up,” she said,
worried about Abby not being protected.

“Storm’s rolling in.”

Sara’s stomach turned. “A storm? What if
Abby can’t find shelter from the rain?”

“With luck we’ll find her before it
hits.”

Sara couldn’t read his tone to tell if
he believed they would or not. He didn’t sound encouraging, yet he didn’t sound
discouraging. It was difficult to read this man. She didn’t want to think about
her baby out there alone. She wouldn’t hear the thunder, but she would see the
lightning and feel the rain, thunder and wind, and that was scary enough.
Especially for a five-year-old.

“How long before it hits?” she asked.

“Focus on finding your daughter.”

“As if I could do anything else.”

Murphy made no comment and they
continued on in silence. Sheer will kept her going. Aching from the fall, her
head throbbed with each step, making her nauseous. Cold wind gusted around
them. With each progression Sara feared more and more for Abby. The thought of
her out there alone ate her up inside. The man practically dragging her was
ruthless. He didn’t speak to her, just pressed forward without mercy.

At one point she stumbled to her knees,
losing her grip on Murphy’s parka. His flashlight snapped on and he turned to
look at her.

“When is the last time you ate
anything?” he asked gruffly.

Sara shrugged, too tired to remember.

Cursing, Murphy shrugged out of his
backpack and dug a protein bar out of one of the pockets. He thrust it at her.
“Eat.”

Sara wolfed it down. She followed it
with water from the bottle he handed her and felt some of her energy restored.

Pushing to her feet, she thanked him and
reached for his parka, but he stepped out of reach.

Stressed out and testy, Sara glared at
him. “What are you doing?” she demanded, reaching for him again. They didn’t
have time for this.

Again he stepped out of reach. Sara let
out a sharp breath and stopped to glare at him.

“You’re exhausted,” he said. “We’ll stop
here for the night.”

Sara’s heart stopped. Panic settled like
a fist around her throat, cutting off her airway.

“No,” she cried. “I can keep going. I
have to. I can’t give up on her now.”

“You aren’t giving up on her.” Murphy’s
eyes grew cold and hard. “If you run yourself into the ground, then you won’t
be any good to her. She needs you to stay strong and getting some rest is the
only way you’re going to accomplish that.”

Exhausted or not, she wasn’t quitting.
Stopping the search meant giving up on Abby. Her chin lifted. “You can stop,
but I’m not. She’s out there alone and she needs me.”

Murphy bore down on her like a tank, his
eyes glittering dangerously in the light. “You won’t make it three steps. The
wound on your head is bleeding again and you can barely stand.”

Sara refused to be intimidated by this
uncompromising man. She had lived under the thumb of a ruthless dictator for
too long to backslide now. She would do better than her past, dammit.

“Are you a father, Murphy?”

His eyes narrowed. “No.”

“Then you couldn’t possibly understand
what it would do to me if we stop now. I can’t. Just give me another energy bar
and more water and I’ll be fine. Please, this is my daughter we’re talking
about here. Without her I’m nothing.”

Chapter
2

“Murphy, why didn’t we take your truck?”

Murphy reached back, gripped Sara’s
sleeve and gave her an extra pull up and over a large boulder. They were
nearing the river that flowed through Cone Ridge canyon. Sara kept up on the
uneven and dangerous terrain without complaint. He admired her spirit.

“There’s no road leading to Cone Ridge
and we would have spent more time driving out of our way than reaching the
canyon. Hiking is the fastest way.”

“Oh.”

She sounded exhausted, her voice soft
and husky. He didn’t offer to stop and rest because he knew she would refuse.
She was a mother on a mission and nothing would get in her way. He could
respect that. Being a former Army Ranger, he had done whatever it took to get
one of his teammates home safely. He understood her desire to keep going
against the odds.

Besides, he knew the lengths his mother would
go to for her children. A mother’s love knew no boundaries.

The wind picked up and dark clouds
rolled low in the sky. The air grew heavy with the threat of rain. The pressure
of finding the girl built in his chest. He should leave Sara behind and go on
his own, but didn’t trust her to stay put.

He felt a tug on his jacket.

“I hear the river,” Sara said, her voice
ringing with excitement. “That’s where I fell. We’re getting close.”

With renewed energy, she surged ahead of
him, slipped on a loose rock, and almost fell a second time.

Murphy reached out and grabbed her by
the collar to haul her back from the edge. He set her firmly beside him. “Don’t
do that again.”

“This is it, isn’t it?” Her eyes shone
with hope. “This is where I fell?”

Clearly, she wasn’t bothered by her
near-fall, but his heart slammed in his chest. He nodded and glanced around
them. It would be daylight in a couple hours. Sara needed to get some rest
before they started tracking the girl.

“How are you going to find her in the
dark?”

“I’m not. I’m going to wait until
daybreak.”

Sara’s shoulders sagged. “How long will
that be?”

“Couple hours. Enough for us to get some
rest.”

“I can’t rest.”

She looked like she could drop any
second. He suspected if he got her inside a tent she would succumb to her
body’s demands and fall asleep. Not willingly, but out of necessity.

Spotting a small clearing near the tree
line, Murphy grabbed her arm and propelled her toward it. He pushed her gently
down on a fallen log and told her to stay while he set up camp.

“Why bother?” Sara watched him unroll a
one-man tent and set it up by the light of a small lantern. “We’re leaving in a
couple hours.”

Murphy ignored her question and unrolled
a sleeping bag inside the tent. He turned to her. “In.”

Sara shook her head.

“Now.”

“I won’t sleep.”

“Fine, stare at the roof then. As long
as you do it lying down.”

She stifled a yawn and he raised a brow.
He was learning Sara Sheldon could be a very stubborn woman.

“Murphy is your last name, isn’t it?”
she asked.

“You’re stalling.”

“Maybe I’m worried that you’ll go
without me.”

He resisted the urge to pick her up and
put her inside the tent himself. “Scout’s honor,” he said to appease her.

“Were you a Boy Scout?”

“No.”

She watched him closely and he didn’t
like it. He held up the tent flap and waited.

“I feel like I can trust you, Murphy, I
guess I just need to hear the words,” she finally admitted, biting her lip.

“You shouldn’t be so trusting,” he
muttered.

“Please.”

Ah, hell.

“I won’t go without you.”

Finally, she got up and crawled inside
the tent. He waited until she lay down to secure the flap and sit back on his
haunches.

“Murphy?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For everything. You’re a
good man.”

She must not have met many good men. If
she had, she wouldn’t think he was one of them.

Rising, he said, “Go to sleep, Sara.”

A moment passed. “So is it?”

Frustrated that she wasn’t cooperating,
Murphy grumbled, “Is it what?”

“Your last name?”

“Will you go to sleep if I tell you?”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Yes, Murphy is my last name.
Now go to sleep.”

A yawn. Then, softly, “Thank you,
Murphy.”

The realization that she trusted him
enough to rest humbled him and made him damn uncomfortable. He brushed it off
and picked up his rucksack. When he heard Sara’s soft, even breathing from
inside the tent he disappeared into the night in search of her daughter.

* * * *

Murphy sat back on his haunches and
directed his flashlight on the ground in front of him. He measured the
footprint with his hand. Lucky he’d found it. Tracking at night was difficult.
Running a finger over the tread, he committed it to memory. He bent closer to
read the word printed in the center of the print. Skechers. What the hell was a
Skecher?

It appeared the girl had taken off
running, judging by the depth of the print and the damage to the grass
surrounding it. It had kept the impression, where slight damage would allow the
grass to slowly untangle and recover.

Moving in a slow crouch, he followed the
direction of the print and searched for more sign. Even if he didn’t find
another print he could track her by other means: bruised vegetation, turned
pebbles, broken branches. A little girl wouldn’t be concerned with the trail
she left, and that would help him find her.

A glance at the sky had him pushing
harder. He was running out of time. The storm threatened to break soon and all
trace would be lost. He wasn’t a religious man, but he silently asked the Good
Lord above to keep the girl safe until he reached her. The Rocky Mountains were
not a place for a child alone. They were wild and unforgiving, with no respect
for weakness.

Moving forward, Murphy ran a hand along
the ground. He found a circle of damaged grass without a print and carefully
explored it. The girl had fallen here. Most likely on her knees, judging by the
two deep imprints. A couple inches ahead he saw two small handprints where
she’d fallen. With any luck he’d find her before her mother woke up. Sara would
be upset if she found out he’d left without her, and wouldn’t understand that he’d
had no choice. He needed to find the girl before the storm washed away her
trail, but she needed rest. An inexperienced woman erasing sign would
jeopardize the search.

Dawn broke, turning everything the same
shade of gray. The hardest time of the day to track, but the girl’s trail was
good so he would be able to follow it. Rising to his feet, he began taking
careful, slow steps in the direction the girl had headed.

A rental cabin sat a mile or so from the
canyon that hunters often used. Other than that there were no houses or cabins
in this valley. It didn’t make much sense for a woman and a child to rent the
cabin, but where else would they have come from? There was no road anywhere
near here and even if they had driven, the hike this far into the canyon would
have taken much longer than what Sara had allowed. She said they went on their
hike after dinner, which meant they were either renting the cabin or camping.
He doubted they were camping all the way up here alone.

Unanswered questions ran through his
head as he studied the ground and trees. He estimated the girl’s height and
scanned the area at that level so he wouldn’t miss anything.

He found a small piece of a foil
wrapper. The girl was heading in the direction of the cabin. By chance, most
likely. Her trail should start to circle. A girl that size, in a panic, unable
to find her mother would run in circles without knowing it.

He took a step and heard an ear-piercing
female scream that echoed through the valley.

“Murr-phy!”

Damn. Memorizing the spot, Murphy took
off at a fast lope toward the camp, girding himself for an outraged female.

When he broke into the clearing, Sara
spun around to face him, eyes wide with an array of emotions. Anger, fear,
worry. Her hands were clenched in front of her, the knuckles white. She looked
dangerously close to her breaking point.

Guilt sliced through him, but why should
it? He was helping this woman and she damn well better start playing by his
rules, because that’s the only way he operated.

When she saw him, she let out a sob and
bit down on her lip. Murphy stopped a few feet away and waited to see which
emotion she would turn on him. He could handle her anger, but not her tears.
Right now she looked like she couldn’t decide what to do.

After a moment, she spoke. “Where were
you?” Her voice held equal amounts of anger and worry.

“I picked up your daughter’s trail.”

Sara clamped a hand over her mouth as
tears filled her eyes. Her breath heaved in and out three times before she
spoke. “You went without me,” she accused.

“Yes.”

She blinked rapidly and once again
started wringing her hands in front of her, then swallowed hard and took
another deep breath. “You found Abby’s…trail?”

He nodded. “She’s headed north.”

“Which way is north?”

Murphy pointed in the right direction and
watched her eyes follow the action. The dark circles beneath them made their
color brighter and more vivid. Truthfully, she looked like hell.

“That’s good, right? That means you can
find her?”

He had no doubt he could follow the
trail, but without being able to call for her, they may walk right past her and
never know it. Finding her hiding place would be the hard part.

“We need to get moving,” he said.

Sara flew into action. She helped him
roll up the sleeping bag while he folded the tent and secured them to his
rucksack. In seconds she ate the breakfast bar he handed her, and drank the
water without hesitation. She wouldn’t allow him to change her bandage,
insisting there would be time for that later. He instructed her to stay
directly behind him as they headed toward the spot he’d last been. She obeyed
and walked close behind him, this time not having to hold onto his parka.
Though he didn’t like it, he missed the feel of her holding onto him.

He quickly dismissed the ridiculous
notion and focused his attention on the task ahead. It didn’t take long to
reach the spot he’d last been and pick up the trail from there. Sara let out a
choked cry when he handed her the wrapper from a package of crackers.

“This is hers,” she said, holding the
wrapper tightly in her hand. “These are the crackers I packed for her.” Awe
filled her voice. She looked up with hope glistening in her eyes. “We’re going
to find her, aren’t we?”

“What color is she wearing?”

“Purple jacket, pink sweater. Blue
jeans. Pink shoes. Her pack is blue and purple.”

Easy colors to spot.

“I’m going to follow her trail. I want
you to look around for signs of her. Look for colors and movement.”

Sara nodded.

“But stick close to me.”

“I will.”

She seemed eager to comply, so Murphy
continued his search. He lost the trail and ended up backtracking until he
picked it up again. He’d been right; the girl was going in circles. It made
keeping her trail difficult, but she should be close.

Her trail led them to the river. Murphy
saw the doll before Sara, and thought to shield her from it but she saw it
anyway and let out a strangled cry.

“No!” She darted around his arm, took
off running before Murphy could stop her, and dropped to her knees at the
river’s edge to pick up the doll. With a choked sob she clutched it to her
chest and began rocking back and forth, repeating Abby’s name over and over.
The torment in her voice almost undid him. He took a step forward at the same
time a raindrop bounced off his nose.

Damn.

Clenching his jaw against the run of bad
luck they were having, he strode to Sara’s side, grabbed her by the arms and
hauled her to her feet. She met him with an accusing glare that would have cut
straight through if he didn’t know where it came from. She was strung out and
thinking the worst. The stress of what might be hurtled her over the edge of
control. To make matters worse, the clouds that had been threatening all
morning suddenly opened up and dumped icy cold rain on them.

Sara let out a howl of pain and lifted
her face to the sky. The anguish in that one look cut through him.

When she lowered her head and looked at
him, he could see she’d lost hope. It tore him apart.

“The rain is washing away her trail,”
she cried over the force of the storm. Rain plastered her hair to her head and
clung to her long lashes. She looked small and defenseless.