Murphy's Law

Murphy straightened abruptly, her gaze scanning Garrett's face with concern. “What? Did I bang against your leg again?” How could she have? She hadn't moved!

“No. That thing you call a cat just used my ankle as a scratching post,” Garrett explained through gritted teeth. “Should have left it behind like I told you to. You know I'm allergic.”

“That ‘thing’ is my cat,” Murphy corrected tightly. “And it's not my fault you're allergic to him. I've already told you there's no way I'd leave Moonshine behind. Given a choice, I would take him over you any day.” Her gaze raked Garrett coldly. “At least I know him.”

The muscles in Garrett's jaw bunched and his lips thinned as he averted his narrowed gaze to the snow-covered passenger window. “Right. I forgot. Aside from your brother, it's the only family you've got.” Sucking in a deep breath, he shook his head. “Crazy family, if you ask me.”

“I didn't.”

“Fine. But…Jesus, sweetheart, I have to ask. What the hell kind of family consists of a brother, a cat, and nothing else? Don't you have parents?”

“Of course. Doesn't everyone?” Murphy felt herself bristle, the same way she'd done in grammar school whenever the subject had been broached. It had been broached painfully often. “My parents are no longer around.”

“Oh.” From the collar of his brown leather bomber jacket, a trace of a blush crept up Garrett's neck until it reached his harshly carved cheeks. He squirmed. “Sorry, I didn't know.”

She shrugged stiffly and leaned against him again. Her chilled-to-the-bone body greedily soaked up the furnace-like heat of his.

“When did they, die?”

“They didn't. At least, not as far as I know.”

“Then…?” He shook his head, sighed. “Never mind. None of my business.”

“You're right, it isn't.” She fisted the blanket tightly beneath her chin, settled herself snugly against the hard cushion of his chest, and ground her chattering teeth together. She didn't intend to elaborate. He was right, it was none of his business. Still, after a few seconds had slipped tensely past, she surprised even herself by confiding, “My father abandoned us when my brother was six, and my mother was about five months pregnant with me. I don't remember either of them to be honest, but Tom tells me that our mother…well, suffice to say, Shirley McKenna wasn't exactly the maternal sort.”

Garrett's head came around slowly, and Murphy felt the brunt of his gaze rest warmly on the top of her head. “You mean she gave you and your brother up for adoption?”

“Too simple,” she replied with a brisk shake of her head. “Shirley was never big on bravery. She took the coward's way out and did what my father had done a couple years before. She just…left.”

“Left?”

“Left. You know, took off and never came back,” she confirmed, her voice oddly steady. She thought about snapping her fingers for emphasis, but changed her mind. Her fingers were shaking too much. From the cold, of course. What else? “There one day, gone the next. That sort of thing.”

His sigh puffed oh, so warmly against her scalp. “What did you do?”

“I was only a couple of months old at the time,” she said, and her chuckle was soft and derisive. “What could I do? Tom, though…he was older. He pretty much handled everything. After a few days passed, we started to run out of food. I guess it was about then he realized Shirley wasn't coming back—which, he told me only a few years ago, he'd suspected all along—so he called the police. It took two days to march us through bureaucratic red tape, then shuffle us off to a foster home.”

“Jesus!”

The vehement way Garrett spat the word surprised Murphy. For reasons she couldn't explain, she rushed to reassure him. “Hey, it wasn't so bad. Tom and I were never abused, and we were able to stay together, which is what we always considered to be the important thing. My parents—” she cleared her throat, “make that my foster parents are very nice people. Shortly after they took us in, they took in three other kids. Tom and I even had…I don't know, I guess you'd call them ‘foster siblings'?”

“Sounds like one big happily family,” Garrett muttered.

“Not quite. Other foster siblings came and went over the years. Only one other boy, and my brother and I, stayed with the Jennson's permanently. Tom and I learned early on that there wasn't much consistency to life, but we also always knew things could have been a lot worse for us. If nothing else, it taught my brother and me that we were the only ones we could ever depend on.”

“Until you found Moonshine.”

“Moonshine found me,” Murphy said, then grinned, remembering. “But that's another story.”

“Feel free to share it. God knows we've got plenty of time.”

Murphy shook her head. She felt awkward with what she'd already told Garrett. Not that any of it was extremely personal, but what had possessed her to say all that? She never talked so much about herself. It made her uncomfortable. So why hadn't it this time? “What about you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

Was it her imagination, or was his voice edged with caution? “Do you have a family?”

He nodded, but didn't elaborate.