Murphy's Law (23 page)

“Where is she?”

“Safe.”

Not as long as she was here. Sara
intended to change that. Not only did she have the flash drive, she’d made a
couple calls on the drive over.

“I want my daughter, Chelsea.”

Chelsea’s eyes narrowed as they moved
over her. There was a time Sara would have bristled beneath her scrutiny, but
not anymore. Never again would she feel inferior to this woman.

“Something is different about you,”
Chelsea said.

With her hair in tangles, her
travel-worn clothes, and lack of makeup, she could imagine what she looked
like. Certainly not the prim, proper woman Chelsea had trained her to be.

“You have a tan,” Chelsea said in
disgust. She detested ruining her skin in the sun. Believed it aged too much.

All that time in the sun working on the
ranch had turned her skin a golden brown. She liked it.

Sara held out her hands, palms up.
“Yes,” she said with pride. “And I have calluses from honest, hard work.”

Chelsea scoffed and looked away. “You
shouldn’t have come back here.”

“You have my daughter. Did you think I’d
let you keep her?”

“You don’t have a choice.”

Sara let her hands drop. “Tell me where
my daughter is, Chelsea.”

“You will never have her. Stephen
will--”

Something snapped inside Sara. She was
in front of Chelsea, eyes blazing, before she knew it. “I want my daughter,”
she said, low and angry. “You can’t keep her from me. I won’t let you.”

Looking shocked, Chelsea actually took a
step back. But she wasn’t shaken for long. Her head tilted and she smoothed a
hand over her navy skirt. “You won’t get her,” she said and turned to walk
away.

Sara reached out and grabbed her arm,
digging her fingers into Chelsea’s flesh. “Don’t walk away from me.”

Chelsea spun around, hand raised, but a
voice down the hall stopped her from striking out.

“Miss Benchley,” a woman said. “The
police are here. They…they are asking for Stephen.”

Sara let go of Chelsea, stunned by her
own behavior. She looked at the maid, nervously wringing her hands in front of
her. No one liked to give the mistress bad news.

“The police?” Chelsea repeated, her hand
dropping.

“Yes, ma’am. They have a warrant.”

As surprised as Chelsea, Sara stared at
the maid. The police were here with a warrant for Stephen’s arrest? She had
made calls to lawyers on the ride over, but not to the police.

“Well, don’t just stand there, show them
in,” Chelsea snapped, striding down the hallway. The maid hurried away.

Sara followed. Only Chelsea knew where
Abby was, and Sara wasn’t letting her out of her sight. Besides, she wanted to
see Stephen arrested. After everything he’d done to her, she had to see it.

By time she got downstairs, the police
were snapping handcuffs on Stephen’s wrists and reading him his rights. The
entire sight was surreal as Sara watched from the bottom step. Chelsea chewing
the officers a new one as she reassured her son she would have him home by
dinner, the officers completely ignoring her, the maid crying softly in the
corner, Ray standing off to the side looking murderous and Stephen glaring at
her, blaming her. Sara didn’t flinch from his stare, simply watched him being
dragged out the front door.

Chelsea’s world was falling apart. Kent
was dead. Stephen was on his way to jail. If the police could make the charges
stick, no one could save him. Maybe she wouldn’t need the flash drive after
all. Maybe the Benchleys’ time had run out.

Once the room cleared, Chelsea started
barking orders. Staff scattered to do her bidding. Sara watched, seeing
Chelsea’s carefully balanced world start to unravel. She knew how it felt to
have things spiral out of control, but Chelsea had brought this on herself. Her
wrong-doings were bound to catch up to her. Sara just wished it had been after
she and Abby were gone, though this might work to her advantage. With Chelsea
thrown off-balance, it opened the door for Sara to get her daughter.

Approaching the angry woman, Sara said,
“Chelsea, show me where my daughter is.”

Chelsea turned on her. “Get out,” she
said between clenched teeth.

Sara lifted her chin. “No. And unless
you want the cops back here I suggest you take me to Abby right now.”

Glacier green eyes narrowed. “What are
you talking about?”

Sara reached into her pocket and pulled
out the flash drive. “On this is enough proof of your activities to put you and
Marcello and Stephen in prison for a lifetime.”

“You lie.”

“Do I?”

They stared at each other, Chelsea
deciding if Sara was telling the truth and Sara making the stand she should
have a long time ago. She shook from head to toe, but she didn’t waver.

Chelsea’s gaze dropped to the small
device in Sara’s hand. She must recognize it. Kent had always used the same
kind. But Chelsea wouldn’t want to believe her own son--her perfect son--could
do this to her. Betrayal of the worst kind. Not a friend or a spouse, but a
son. Her favorite son, who could do no wrong.

Compassion stirred, but Sara pushed it
down. Kent had done this. Not her. There always came a time one had to pay the
piper. Chelsea’s time had come. Sara knew she was striking while Chelsea was
down, but it had to be this way.

Hardening herself, she folded her hand
around the flash drive and held it out of reach. “All I want is my daughter,
Chelsea. I don’t want your money or anything else. None of it matters to me.”

Thin lines bracketed Chelsea’s lips. She
was hurting, though she hid it incredibly well. Sara saw the pain hidden in her
eyes, the betrayal. The reality of what she’d done to her sons.

“Give me what I want, Chelsea, and I’ll
burn this.”

Something flickered in Chelsea’s eyes.
Sara knew she was throwing away the only evidence she had against the
Benchleys. She was gambling that beneath the icy exterior lay a decent woman
who could do the right thing for the right reason. Chelsea was an intelligent
woman. She could salvage what little pride she had left and let Sara have her
way, or she could deny her and see her family destroyed more. She could end up
in prison beside her son.

“What do you want?” Chelsea asked, voice
hard.

“To leave here with my daughter and
start a life of our own, without your interference. I want to be free, Chelsea.
Just like Kent did.”

Chelsea flinched. Sara hated herself for
what she was doing, but this had to end. To have any kind of life of her own,
she had to do this.

“Let us go. Let us start over. Fresh.
With people who care about and accept us.” Tears filled Sara’s eyes. She would
protect the Murphys at all costs, but Chelsea had to know there was a place out
there for Sara and Abby. A real home. With people who loved them for who they
were. People she could trust.

“You’re asking me to give up my
granddaughter,” Chelsea said. “The only part of my son I have left.”

Sara drew in a deep breath, seeing
Chelsea’s pain. Pain only a mother could feel. Some of her anger evaporated,
replaced by sadness for this cold, hard woman who had fought so hard to keep
the only remaining part of her dead son. Her tactics had been wrong and hurt
many people, but her motives were pure. She was a mother fighting for her
family. Sara could understand that. It didn’t make what she’d done all right,
but she couldn’t blame the woman for wanting to hold on to her son.

“You are the only grandmother Abby has.
I don’t want to deny her or you that. But I will not allow my daughter to be
raised like her father.”

Chelsea looked away, defeat written
tightly on her face. She’d been hit with bombs today and Sara felt for her. It
couldn’t be easy. She saw the war raging inside the rigid woman.

Finally, she spoke. “Get out. Take your
daughter and get the hell out.”

Victory. It was bittersweet, because
Abby would never know her grandmother. Chelsea was not in a place where she
could see past her beliefs, and for that Sara felt sorry. Maybe someday Chelsea
would see family was more important than social status or wealth or even
reputation. That she didn’t have to live by such a strict set of rules and
precedence in order to be happy.

Reaching out, Sara pressed the flash
drive into Chelsea’s palm and wrapped her fingers around it. Once Chelsea
Benchley gave her word, it was written in stone. “Kent never wanted this,” she
said quietly. “Now, where is my daughter?”

Chapter
19

Murphy saw the police cars parked in
front of the Benchley estate and his heart dropped to his feet. Braking to a
stop on the side of the road, he jumped out of the truck.

Gabe shouted at him, but he ignored it.
They had done something to Sara. He was too late. An ache pierced his chest as
he ran toward the officers who were loading Stephen Benchley into a squad car.

Murphy saw red. He barreled past one
officer and pushed another aside, grabbing Benchley by the shirt collar and
slamming him against the cruiser.

“What did you do to her?” he shouted.
“Where is Sara?”

“Hey. Get this guy off me,” Stephen
hollered as numerous sets of hands latched onto Murphy and dragged him back.

“Murphy?”

Murphy went still. He turned at the
sound of his name and saw Sara walking down the paved drive toward him, Abby in
her arms.

His knees went weak with relief. The
hands pulling him off Stephen now held him up. Dimly, he heard Gabe talking to
the officers, smoothing things over.

Then suddenly Sara was in his arms and
he was holding her and Abby. His chest swelled with emotions he no longer
denied. Emotions he wanted. Needed.

Sara pulled away and looked up at him
with pride. He had never seen such clarity in her eyes.

“I did it, Murphy. We’re free.”

Murphy kissed her, hard and possessive.
When he lifted his head he said, “I knew you could.” He didn’t know how she’d
managed to gain her freedom, but right now he didn’t care. They were safe and
he was never letting them go again. Sara’d always had it in her, she just
hadn’t known it. Pride welled in his chest for this beautiful, strong woman he
proudly called his.

“How did you know?” she asked. “You
followed me?”

“Did you think I’d let you leave?”

A smile touched her lips. “Not really. I
knew you’d come. But, I had to do this on my own. And I did. I feel good,
Murphy. It’s really over.”

Murphy cupped her cheek. “Yes, it is.”

“You called the police on Stephen,
didn’t you?”

“I thought I was too late.”

“Your timing was perfect.”

Abby wiggled between them, smiling at
Murphy. Murphy held them tighter. “Never do this to me again,” he said gruffly.
“I thought I lost you.”

“Never.”

Someone said his name, cautioning him
about staying. Murphy had all he wanted, so he took Abby from Sara’s arms and
hugged her to his chest. “Let’s get out of here,” he said and led them away.

* * * *

Sara glanced over her shoulder as Murphy
led her toward his truck. Chelsea stood on the porch, watching them, desolation
in her stare and pain in her stance. She looked lonely and suddenly very old
standing there. A woman who had lost everything.

Something inside Sara shifted. Pulling
away from Murphy, she said, “Hold on. I have to do something.”

She ran up the walkway until she stood
in front of Chelsea. Reaching out, she covered the woman’s cold hand with her
own. “Everyone deserves a second chance, Chelsea. Everyone.”

With that she ran back to where Murphy
waited, frowning, and without looking back, walked away from her past. Murphy
helped her and Abby into his truck, spoke briefly to the group of men with him,
and climbed in beside her.

“Was that Gabe?” she asked.

“Yes. He helped me find you.”

“I see,” she said with a frown as Gabe
climbed into another truck with the other men. “And who are the other men? And
the woman?”

“More help.”

Sara nodded and sank back in the comfort
of the seat. For once she didn’t mind Murphy’s clipped, evasive answers.

“Rest,” Murphy said. “You’re safe now.”

“Yes,” she murmured, closing her eyes to
the sudden exhaustion washing over her. “We are.”

* * * *

Sara woke up to find herself in Murphy’s
arms and carried into a motel room.

Being in Murphy’s arms again was
wonderful. She didn’t argue when he carried her through the door. Abby was
already tucked into bed and fast asleep. She looked so peaceful, Sara wanted to
cry. Instead she rested her head on Murphy’s shoulder. Right now she needed to
be close to him.

He carried her to the other bed to lay
her down, but she held tight. “No,” she whispered. “Not yet.”

Murphy sat on the bed with her on his
lap and simply held her. They sat in silence and Sara listened to the steady
beat of his heart as she counted her blessings. He was the greatest thing that
ever happened to her and she would cherish him for the rest of her life.

She sighed and closed her eyes, content
to stay right where she was. This was all she wanted.

“This is wonderful,” she murmured.

“You need to get some rest,” he said,
standing and pulling back the covers. Then he gently laid her in the center of
the bed and covered her back up.

“Where are you going to sleep?” she
asked.

“I’m not tired. I’m going to take a
shower and sit up for awhile. Go to sleep, we have a long drive in front of us
tomorrow.”

Her eyes were already closing. “Are you
taking us home?” she murmured, the words slurred with sleep.

She was almost asleep when Murphy said
softly, “Yeah, I’m taking you home.”

* * * *

The second Sara set foot on the ranch,
she burst into tears, the same as she had the first day of her arrival. Alice
and Justine and MaryAnn and the kids were there to welcome her and Abby. They
took her in and gave her a cup of tea, this time without brandy, fussing over
her, and before she knew it, she was back where she’d left off. It felt so
right, she wanted to cry some more.

After dinner, Abby begged to spend the
night at Justine’s. This time Sara was able to say yes with less trepidation.
The danger was over. They had their life back. Never again would they look over
their shoulders. She felt comfortable saying yes and it felt good to give Abby
her freedom.

Standing in the driveway waving to Abby
as she left with Justine and Paul, grinning and happy, Sara felt hope.

Boots crunched on the gravel behind her
and she turned to see Murphy striding toward her. She smiled.

He took her hand. “Come on.”

Curious, she followed him around the
house and down the hill toward the barn. He opened the door and led her inside,
and took her to the wall on the far side. Sara stared. They had hung all her
drawings and it looked just like the old wall, only in charcoal and pencil.

“This,” Murphy said, “represents what
you mean to this family. Every time we look at this wall we’re going to see the
past and the present. You are part of that, Sara.”

Tears filled her eyes and she brushed
them away. “I’m sorry you lost the old ones.”

“We didn’t. They’re all here. You gave
them back to us.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“They mean a lot to us. And so do you.”

Sara went very still. “I do?” she asked,
unable to look at him for fear he would see her emotions. She wanted so much
for Murphy to love her. He’d surely read the truth on her face.

His hands cupped her shoulders and
turned her around to face him. She bit her lip and looked up to find him
staring at her with such tenderness, she almost came undone.

“Care to say that in front of a minister
and the whole damn town?” he asked.

Sara’s mouth dropped open. “Are
you…proposing to me, Murphy?”

“Look, I’m not very good with this
stuff. Somewhere along the line I fell in love with you and your daughter. I
think it started when you crashed through my front door in the middle of the
night. You showed me life means nothing without family and friends and you
helped me see that happened to me in Azbakastan wasn’t because I failed. You
taught me what’s important in life. And I know that without you and Abby, my
life isn’t worth much.”

He drew in a sharp breath. “What I’m
trying to say, dammit, is that I love you and I want to marry you. I want to
adopt Abby and make a life for us here on the ranch. Dad turned it over to me
in his will, but he wouldn’t let Mom tell me until I was ready to settle down.
This is where I want to be, Sara, and I want to be here with you and Abby, if
you’ll have me. I know I can’t ever give you another child, but I’d be willing
to adopt if it was what you wanted. I’m a scarred soldier who has done things
I’m not proud of, but would go back and do again if it meant saving another
life. I’m not easy to live with and I like sleeping on the left side of the
bed.

“Ranching isn’t an easy life, it’s hard
work and doesn’t pay much, but we don’t have to worry about that. I’ve made
some good investments that will keep food on the table for a long time. I…why
are you crying?”

Sara smiled through her tears. She
stepped into Murphy’s arms and wrapped hers around his waist. “These are tears
of joy,” she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

Murphy chuckled. “Is that a yes?”

“Oh, yes, it’s definitely a yes as long
as you don’t mind a woman with a past who cries at the drop of a hat and likes
to bury her nose in a sketch pad all the time.”

“I think I can live with that.”

“You really want to adopt Abby?”

“If she’ll have me.”

Sara lifted her head so she could look
at him. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. She fell in love with you
the first time she met you. The Oreos didn’t hurt either.”

“Ah, my vice. One of many, I’m afraid.”

Sara grinned and rubbed against him. “So
this means we can make love anytime we want,” she said, letting out a whoop of
surprise when he suddenly lifted her into his arms and kissed her with all the
love and passion they shared.

“Did I mention that marrying me has
perks?” he said as he lowered her onto a pile of straw.

Sara reached for the buttons on his
shirt. “Perks, huh? I like perks. I love you, Murphy.”

Their lips met and they both knew the
unspoken word between them.

Forever.