It Happened at Christmas by Christen Krumm

Author:Christen Krumm [Krumm, Christen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CK Publications
Published: 2019-10-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Murphy needed to make things right with Emmaline. She was barely sleeping and refused to believe it was because of their fight. News flash. It totally was. Murphy knew that she should just shrug it off as part of her old life, maybe going forward Emmaline wouldn’t be there, but that just felt so final. Maybe if she talked it over with someone who was in the thick of things with her—whether he knew it or not—she would feel better.

Slipping on an old Bon Jovi t-shirt, another item of clothing saved from her dad’s closet, over a long-sleeved shirt, she tugged on her coat. Tying a scarf around her neck, she pulled a wool beanie down over her ears. At the last minute, Murphy tucked Fiona into her coat. The visit would do Tripp good. She would just have to make sure Mrs. Harrington didn’t find out. She tiptoed across the kitchen, trying to remember what Mrs. Potts’ morning routine was. If she was caught, she’d just say she was going for an early run. With a cat. Because that seemed logical.

Murphy squared her shoulders to bear the cold before pulling open the door. Glad she had remembered to put on the wool socks that Mr. Gruber had given her, she kicked at the dead leaves and pine needles on the lawn. The sun was just coming up painting the sky with brilliant oranges and pinks.

It was much quicker to get to the Harrington house by cutting through the green, jumping over the sad excuse for a property fence, and swimming through the trees that bordered the entire Harrington property. Thirty-five minutes later she was stomping on the Harrington steps trying to get feeling back into her legs. At least Fiona seemed to enjoy the trip as she was snuggled up against Murphy, purring.

Murphy was only a little surprised that Jarvis swung the door open before she had a chance to knock, looking as if he had been expecting her.

“Good morning, Ms. Cain,” Jarvis bowed at the waist and helped Murphy remove layers, startling, and quickly recovering at the sight of Fiona.

“Good morning, Jarvis.” Murphy slipped off her Cons, damp from the morning dew. Balancing Fiona in her arms, and praying she didn’t decide to bolt, Murphy placed them by the door, knowing that the capable butler would probably stash them in a closet until she was ready to return home. “I was just going to visit with Tripp if it’s ok.”

Jarvis bowed his head as if a girl coming over unannounced with a cat before breakfast was the most normal thing in the world.

“Yes, Miss. I’ll bring some of Mrs. George’s hot coffee. Unless you’d prefer cocoa or tea?”

“Coffee would be marvelous.”

Murphy made her way down the hall toward Tripp’s room. She pushed the door silently open, gasping to see Grandpa Jack sitting next to Tripp’s bed reading a paperback by the light of a lamp. He glanced up, putting a bookmark in his book, and placed his glasses on top of his head.

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