He needed to go back to town soon and send his family a letter. Wouldn’t they be surprised by his news? They would probably be hurt too that he didn’t tell them about Brooke from the start. He wished he could tell them when he would be coming home, but he didn’t know what his plans were. He just wanted to be with Brooke and MJ. So far, his wife hadn’t been very inviting. She didn’t understand he had also suffered. His heart had broken into so many pieces he had never been able to put them all back together.
And now it was the distance and mistrust between them that hurt. He hadn’t realized she could be so ornery. What had happened to her sweetness? He had once lived for one of her smiles. But now it looked like she saved her smiles for their son.
Speaking of whom, the boy was barreling full-tilt toward him. He’d been happy Brooke hadn’t denied MJ was his, but in truth she really couldn’t have. His son looked a lot like him. She’d raised the boy alone. It must have been hard to be a lone parent.
“Mister! Ma says you’re to put Maisy away, clean up and have supper with us. Don’t forget to wash behind your ears!” He lowered his voice and met Murphy’s eyes with a solemn gaze. “She checks.” He didn’t wait for a reply, though, just ran back to the house.
Murphy smiled; he’d be sure to wash behind his ears. No sense in getting his wife riled.
* * *
Oh my… had Murphy always been so tall, so strong looking? The kitchen was too small with him in it. She glanced at him, and his wicked blue eyes twinkled. The same twinkling eyes that had helped to convince her to marry him.
“Mister, are you stayin’ a while? My grandpa died and Ma gets so tired farmin’.”
Brooke caught her breath. “MJ,” she warned.
Murphy dropped to one knee. “Call me Murphy, and yes I do plan on staying a while… for as long as it takes.” Then he reached out and ruffled MJ’s hair.
“As long as what takes?” MJ’s eyes were wide. He was expecting an answer.
Murphy turned to Brooke, but she shrugged her right shoulder and continued to slice the bread. Her heart plummeted. What if he told MJ Murphy was his father who walked away from her and never come back until now?
“Go wash up, MJ,” she said instead.
“Aw Ma, I’m washed already.”
“Even behind your ears?”
MJ glanced at Murphy and they shared a smile. This would never do. They could not become friends. MJ must never know the truth of Murphy’s identity… and his betrayal.
“Help me set the table, please.” Why had she invited Murphy for supper? She couldn’t have been sane when she did it.
He easily set up three places at the table wearing a half-smile that tugged at her heartstrings.
She set the warm dishes in the center of the table and then they all sat and held hands to say grace.
“Lord, we do thank you for this food and the blessings of comfort and fellowship as we eat,” said Murphy. “Amen.”
Heart racing, Brooke snatched her hand back. It just wasn’t right to get warm feelings while saying grace.
“Fried chicken, my favorite,” Murphy remarked, shooting her a grin.
“It’s mine too!” announced MJ. “Ma never makes it enough times.”
“MJ, remember not to talk with your mouth full.”
Subdued for the moment, MJ glanced at her and nodded and then watched Murphy. Long ago, she’d dreamed of such moments. Now one had come, and it pierced her heart.
Loud thunder rumbled overhead, and rain came on fast and heavy. “This storm certainly snuck up on us,” she said.
Murphy stood quickly and wiped his face with a napkin, then pushed his chair back in. “I apologize, but I need to go get Nugget. He’s not good in storms.” Murphy tugged open the door and stepped out of the house and into the gushing rain.
“Come on MJ, put your coat on and we’ll help with Murphy’s belongings.”
MJ jumped out of his chair and grabbed his coat. Then he also raced out into the pouring rain. She grabbed her wrap and followed, though it didn’t do much to keep her dry. They ran across the property toward the camp. Murphy yelled something to them, but the wind carried his words away.
They grabbed his bedroll, coffee pot, a skillet, and a few cans of beans. Lightning lit up the sky. It looked as though it was putting cracks into the sky. An enormous boom exploded in the air, and Brooke’s heart raced. This storm was a bad one. “Let’s get back!” she shouted.
She made sure MJ was in front of her. He was running too fast to look back. Suddenly she was lifted and flying through the air.
Chapter Four
Murphy sat next to the bed with MJ in his lap. Brooke still hadn’t opened her eyes. MJ squirmed until he stood. “I’m going to play with my marbles.” He left the bedroom.
Murphy ran his hand over his face. He sure was tired. He’d kept vigil all night, and she’d hardly stirred. He couldn’t quite figure it out. He hadn’t seen any rocks she could have hit her head on. His breath had caught when he saw her go down. Quickly, he had pushed Nugget into the barn, closed the door, and then run to her.
At first he had been relieved. She’d had mud splattered all over her and he had almost laughed until he realized she was out cold. He’d swung her up into his arms. She weighed no more than she had on their wedding day.
When he got to the house, the door was open, and water was heating on the stove. MJ had grabbed all the towels he could find. Then he ran into Brooke’s room and covered the bottom sheet with the towels.
“She’ll have a fit if mud gets everywhere,” he said seriously.
Murphy gave him a grateful nod and then he laid Brooke on her bed. He checked her head for any cuts or bruising but didn’t see or feel any. Next, he took off her shoes and dress. He left the rest of her garments on.
“Here’s the water, Murphy…” An angry expression came over the boy’s face. “What are you doing? Ma is going to be upset. We need to cover her!”
“After I wash this mud off of her,” he said calmly but firmly. “You can stay and make sure I’m not doing anything improper. I’m just tending to your ma is all.”
MJ seemed to relax. “I’ll stay.”
Good young man, Murphy thought with approval, to be keeping an eye out for his ma like that. She had been raising him right.
Her neck and face were the worst. Murphy took the cloth and wet it in the warm water. Then he gently washed her face. Tenderness toward her overcame him, and he sighed. She looked just the same as the day they’d married. And his heart swelled with the same love he had felt back then. How was he going to convince her she was wrong about the whole situation? Somehow, he had to, for he knew he had never stopped loving her. He felt as fierce now as he had back then.
Next, he cleaned her neck, wrists, and hands. Her stockings were caked, but he didn’t feel comfortable about taking them off. He scratched his head.
His eyes widened as MJ stepped forward and pulled them off from the toe. Well… that was one way to get it done.
“Do you think she’s sleeping?” MJ’s chin trembled.
“I think she will be just fine. She has us to watch over her.”
“I’ll pray for her. I bet that will help.” MJ smiled.
“Never any harm in praying,” Murphy encouraged with a smile as even more love flooded his heart, this for his son. “Why don’t you go and finish your supper? I’ll stay right here.”
MJ hesitated, but then with a resolute nod, he raced to the kitchen.
Brooke had mud in her hair, but they’d have to leave it for now. He had checked underneath the muddy mess to be sure she had no head wounds. He stepped back and studied her. There was nothing wrong with praying. In fact, his newest sister-in-law, Clarissa, was a mighty force now that she had complete faith in God. She had gone from being shy and thinking no one would want her to a confident mother-to-be. He smiled. He had never thought to see Donnell married. Donnell had always found fault with every woman he’d ever met. Murphy understood why he fe
lt that way. Family secrets had been revealed and those had changed their entire family and their outlook on life. At least Clarissa had shown Donnell the way to God. It was almost a miracle the way Donnell smiled all the time now.
“Lord I’ve seen Your many miracles. I’ve always been grateful for Your presence in my life. Please help heal my wife. She’s a stubborn one, and she doesn’t believe in me, but I know she believes in You. Please lead us both to the truth. I keep asking myself the same question. Why did her father lie? Somehow, I need to prove the truth.” He sighed. “But one thing at a time. Please, Lord, heal Brooke. Amen.”
Murphy sat in the wooden chair next to her bed and took her hand in his. Had she thrown her wedding ring away? He always kept his in his pocket. Of course, he had thought her to be dead while she had believed he’d abandoned her. He shook his head to clear the rage that threatened. This wasn’t the time for anger. If she didn’t wake up soon, he’d ride to the nearest neighbor for help. He didn’t want to leave Brooke and MJ alone that long, but he’d have no choice.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Her hands had fared better than he’d thought they would with all the plowing she’d done. There were a few places around her hard callouses that were raw. They’d heal, but he probably should wrap them. He stood and stared down on her. She still held his heart in those hands.
MJ helped him rip some old sheets into bandages. Then he handed Murphy a jar.
Murphy unscrewed the lid and took a cautious sniff, then cringed as his eyes watered. “What — Phew!”
“The worse it smells, the better it works.” MJ nodded sagely.
“That’s usually true. Let’s go put some on her hands.” Murphy allowed MJ to lead the way.
Murphy took off the lid again, and MJ held his nose closed. Unable to help himself, Murphy laughed. “I’ve smelled worse.” Like horse manure covering a hole in a stable when he was hiding. He sat down and spread the ointment onto her hand, gently rubbing it in. Then he wrapped them with the cloth. She didn’t react, not even so much as a whimper. Maybe she had a head wound he hadn’t seen because of the mud. Washing her hair was going to be a messy job, but the mud was making her hair stiff.
“More hot water?” MJ asked.
Murphy nodded.
“I’ll bring the soap too.”
MJ was very intuitive. His son made him proud. One day soon he would claim MJ as his own.
He was right. Cleaning her hair left a huge wet mess by the time they were done. They were probably lucky that they hadn’t drowned her. Every towel was mud-soaked as was the floor. Finally, he could better examine her head. There weren’t any cuts, and he couldn’t find a bump. Why wouldn’t she wake up?
MJ jumped from one foot to the other and back again while he watched his mother. He was probably in a panic. Truth be told, Murphy was starting to panic too. He leaned over and stroked Brooke’s cheek, murmuring to her, pleading with her to wake up. Then he kissed her on the lips, but she didn’t kiss him back. So much for fairytales. He knew it wasn’t good for a person with a head injury to sleep, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
“My ma is sure to be mad that you kissed her.” MJ stood with arms crossed over his chest, one eye narrowed. “One time there was this man in town and he grabbed her and kissed her and she walloped him.”
Murphy smiled, he could imagine his feisty wife doing such a thing. “MJ, why don’t you sit here while I try to clean the floors. Let me know if you see any movement at all.” He allowed himself to grin. “And you’re probably right. She probably will wallop me.”
After throwing every dirty towel out into the yard, Murphy went back to the bedroom and turned around in a circle. “It’s looking cleaner already.”
“There is clean and then there is Ma clean. But I suppose this will do for now.” MJ chuckled. “She hasn’t moved at all. What do you suppose is the matter with her? I’ve fallen a bunch of times, and nothing like this ever happened.”
It was hard to stare into eyes that were so much like his own. He wished he had an answer. MJ trembled now and then. He was probably trying to stay strong. He was a magnificent boy. Murphy shook his head sadly. He had no words to offer.
“Maybe I should be the one to kiss her?” suggested MJ. “She likes it when I kiss her on the nose and her cheeks and her chin. She says my kisses are magic kisses because they always make her feel better.”
So much… he’d missed so so much. He didn’t care what anyone said. Even if he and Brooke never resolved their differences, he was staying to get to know his son. “I do believe you might be on to something.”
MJ smiled and crawled up on the bed. He placed kisses all over his ma’s face. He waited for a moment and then did it again.
Brooke shook her head. “Stop,” she mumbled. “I’m trying to sleep.”
Murphy lifted MJ off the bed and carried him out of the room. He gave MJ an enormous hug. “You did it! Your magic kisses saved your ma. Let’s go make her something to eat while we let her rest for a bit longer.”
MJ put his arms around Murphy’s neck and buried his face in Murphy’s shoulder. “I have to tell you a secret. I was scared. With Grandpa gone, I have a responsibility to the farm. I can do lots of stuff. My ma says I’m a big helper. This farm is going to be mine one day. I can’t wait because I’m going to change it.”
Murphy set him down. “Change it to what?”
“I’m not gonna plant anything. I’ll keep the animals we have, but I have the best idea. I’m going to raise cats. Everyone loves cats. Right? You love cats too, don’t you?” MJ stared up at him with his eyes wide.
Murphy hadn’t really given it much thought. Cats were just cats, but there was no way he was going to disappoint MJ. “I like cats just fine. Do you have any yet?”
MJ nodded his head. “Our cat Blue just had a big litter of little cats. I’ve got my start already. I figure I could start out small and then by the time the farm is mine, I’ll have enough cats for the whole place.”
“You’ve really thought this out, haven’t you?”
MJ’s face brightened. “I’ve been planning it for some time now.”
“It’s always good to have a plan,” Murphy told him. “After we feed your ma some lunch and make sure she’s comfortable, let’s go out to the barn to see Blue and her kittens.”
“I don’t call them kittens, I call them little cats.”
Murphy’s lips twitched. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter Five
It was finally nighttime, and MJ was in bed. Over twenty-four hours had passed since she’d been hurt, and Murphy sat by Brooke again. He’d missed her with everything inside him. There were times he questioned God why He had taken Brooke. And it was lies, all lies. If her father hadn’t wanted her to leave the farm, all he’d had to do was ask. He hadn’t needed to pull strings behind everyone’s backs and cause an enormous mess. He hadn’t needed to rob Murphy of his son.
Brooke murmured and sighed, but still didn’t open her eyes. His wife was such a beautiful woman. Her skin was so soft and her lips were berry red. She hadn’t cut her hair; it was longer than he remembered.
He longed for her smiles. They were his happiness. Life hadn’t been happy while he’d thought her dead. It had been almost as if speaking about her death would make it all too real, unbearable. They hadn’t gotten enough time together, but now… He wasn’t leaving, and somehow, he had to convince her that he had not abandoned her.
“Your horse?” Brooke whispered hoarsely. “Did you get him into the barn?”
Startled out of his musings, he leaned toward her. “Yes, didn’t put him in a stall, but got him out of the storm.”
“How… how long…?”
“You’ve been out for a day,” he answered quietly.
She gasped and tried to sit. “MJ!”
Murphy gave her a gentle push back to the pillow. “He’s fine. He helped around the house and looked over you. I fed him, and now he’s in bed
.”
She slumped back with a sigh. Then she tilted her head, listening. “It’s still storming.” Her brows furrowed as he became aware that the rain still drummed steadily on the roof.
“Yes, it’s been raining on and off for a bit, but it’s lighter now.” Reaching out, he lightly patted her hand. She used to be frightened of storms. He remembered holding her tight until the storm blew over. From the worry on her face, he’d have to say she was still afraid.
Boldly, he stood and took off his boots and then climbed into bed with her, pulling her gently into his arms.
She stiffened but didn’t struggle.
“It’s just until the storm is over,” he murmured. “I’m not trying to take advantage of the situation.”
Her mouth opened as though she was going to say something, but there was a big loud boom of thunder, and she put her arms around his neck. She was holding him a little too tight to be comfortable, but he didn’t say a word.
“You were very brave going to my campsite to get my belongings,” he said, stroking her arm. “I never meant for you or MJ to be out in the storm. Thank you, though, for trying to save all my belongings. I treasure you and MJ much more than things, though. Besides, I always carry my most precious possession in my pocket.”
She loosened her hold on his neck and looked him in the eye. “What is your most precious possession?”
He shoved his hand to his pants pocket and pulled out his wedding ring. “It’s the only thing I had that you’d given me.”
She stared at his open hand, her mouth opening and closing but no words emerging. When she spoke, her words were strained. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel or how I’m supposed to act. I have been so furious and so hurt that I don’t think I can let it all go. I can’t say anything yet. I still don’t have any proof that my father lied.” Some tension drained from her body. “War changes people, and after I found out you were alive, I figured you decided you didn’t want to be married anymore. It was so hard… grieving for you, especially when MJ was born. I looked forward to you coming home… meeting him… I was so proud I’d given you a son. I had always pictured us as a family, not a broken one. I—my father didn’t tell me you were alive at first, but he finally had to, so I wouldn’t go and look for another husband.”
Murphy: Cowboy Deceived: The Kavanagh Brothers Book 6 Page 3
