Blessings of The Heart

Mitch frowned. “Did you take your brother to the outhouse before dark, like I told you?”

“Yup.” Ryan’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “But he’d never seen one before. He was scared to go in.”

“Why didn’t you go in with him?”

“It was too crowded.” His smile spread from ear to ear. “Guess you’ll have to make the trip, huh?”

Mitch sighed, vowing to add a portable commode to the list of supplies he intended to get the next time he drove into town. He reached for his jeans and pulled them on over his pajamas, then slid his bare feet into his boots. “I guess I will. Help your brother put his shoes on.”

He grabbed a waterproof plastic poncho, slung it over his head and held the front part out of the way while he hoisted his youngest son in his arms and covered him with it.

“I’ll take Bud now. Ryan, you fix the beds while I’m gone. When I come back I’ll help you. Okay?”

Ryan nodded compliantly.

Looking terribly smug, he handed his father a flashlight.

The humidity gathering beneath the plastic gear had already brought up beads of sweat on Mitch’s forehead.

The moment Ryan opened the door for him, the rain gusted in, soaking the floorboards and puddling on the uneven surface. Lightning illuminated the yard as if a floodlight had been turned on. Thunder crashed and rolled, echoing across the hills.

If Mitch hadn’t been obliged to make a mad dash for the outhouse he would have stopped then and there and told his eldest son a few things about following orders in the future. As it was, he figured he would be doing well to keep his balance and get there and back in one piece. Discipline would have to wait.

From her second-story vantage point, Bree could see the recently dug pond that had caused her new neighbor such consternation. Every time there was a flash of lightning the water level looked higher. If this deluge kept up, the creek he’d mentioned was probably going to start flowing again very soon.

“I think I’ll still run a pipe from our well so they’ll have decent drinking water all the time,” she told herself. “That’s only fair.” Besides, doing that would keep the neighbors from disturbing her solitude by hiking up the hill to fetch water day after day. She made a disgusted face. Did having an ulterior motive cancel out the benefits of doing a good deed? “I sure hope not.”

As she watched, the water level in the pond continued to rise, then appeared to stabilize even though the rain was still coming down hard. Her brow furrowed, and she peered into the darkness, hoping for another bright burst so she could see better. When it did finally come, she could have sworn there was less water in the pond than before. How strange.

Puzzled, she watched the anomaly for a few more minutes, then pulled a light cotton robe over her nightgown and went downstairs to make sure her computer was disconnected in case of a lightning strike. There wasn’t much point in going back to bed while the storm raged. She’d never be able to sleep when the flashes were so bright she could see them through her closed eyelids!

Bree got herself a glass of milk and settled into a chair at the kitchen table. She noticed that her hands were trembling slightly. Undue concern during bad weather was a new phenomenon for her. There seemed to be something particularly disconcerting about the ferocity of Arkansas summer storms. Maybe it was the stories her part-time housekeeper, Emma, had told about that kind of weather spawning tornadoes. Or maybe it was simply the fact that Bree was alone in the enormous house with no one to talk to. Most of the time, that was exactly how she wanted it. Tonight, however, she almost wished it was time for Emma to drive out from Serenity and clean the place again.

Thunder rattled the windows. Bree winced. “Guess I’m not much of a country girl,” she murmured. “I’d sure like to ask somebody a few questions right about now.”

Mitch had pulled on his leather boots without lacing them, and they were totally soaked. Thanks to the blowing rain and stifling humidity, the rest of him wasn’t much drier.

Bud had obviously never had to rough it before. Consequently, their foray into the storm had taken far longer than Mitch had anticipated.

By the time he returned Bud to the cabin, Mitch was furious with Ryan. Pulling off his slicker, he glared at the boy. “You knew this would happen, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know it was going to rain,” Ryan answered, acting subdued under his father’s ire. “It’s not my fault this place is a dump. It’s worse than going to camp. At least they had the bathrooms in the same building.”

“You went to camp?”

“Yeah. Once. Mom sent us. I didn’t like it much.”

“No doubt.” Mitch noticed that Ryan was fidgeting more than usual. Since the sound of running, dripping water had been serenading them for hours, he suspected the power of suggestion was getting to Ryan the same way it already had to Bud.

“You wouldn’t happen to have to use the bathroom, too, would you?” Mitch asked with a slow drawl.

“Me? Naw.”

“You sure? I could lend you my poncho. You wouldn’t get too wet.”

Ryan eyed him with obvious misgivings. “You mean you wouldn’t come with me?”

“Nope. One of us has to stay in here and watch your brother. If you go, that means I stay.” He could see the indecisiveness in his son’s face turn to stubborn resolve.

“Fine. Gimme the raincoat. I’m out of here.”

Mitch watched him don the man-size slicker and pick up the flashlight. The only thing that hinted at anxiety was a slight pause in Ryan’s stride as he opened the door and faced the storm. Then he slammed the door and was gone.

The kid has guts, Mitch told himself with pride. He hadn’t been nearly that brave when he was only eight. Of course, he hadn’t been compelled to care for a younger sibling, either. That responsibility had undoubtedly forced Ryan to grow up way before his time—which was a real shame. If possible, Mitch was going to teach the poor kid to enjoy being a child again.

Warmer thoughts of Ryan had just about blotted out the last of Mitch’s rancor when the door burst open and his son ran in, shouting, “Look out! It’s a flood!”

If it hadn’t been for the wild look in his son’s eyes, Mitch might have doubted his truthfulness. Instead, he joined him at the door and shined the flashlight on the yard to assess the situation for himself.

“It’s just runoff water,” Mitch assured the frightened boy. “Nothing to worry about.”

Ryan grabbed the light and pointed it toward the creek bed. “Oh, yeah? How about over there?”

“That’s just…” Reality struck, bringing Mitch’s heart to his throat and making his pulse race. He whispered, “Dear God.”

“You told me not to cuss.”

“That wasn’t a curse. See the debris in the water? Those are whole trees, not twigs. I didn’t know it was raining hard enough to do that.” He whirled. “Come on. We’re getting out of here. Follow me. I’ll get Bud.”

“Want your raincoat?” Ryan held it out.

“Forget it. I’d rather be wet than get caught by that water coming down the canyon.”

Mitch scooped up his youngest son and ran for the front door. Bud immediately started to bawl.

Racing toward the car, Mitch belatedly realized that Ryan wasn’t right behind him. He tossed Bud into the back seat and was about to return to the house for his other son when Ryan appeared, leaning into the wind and struggling to make headway through the pelting rain.

“Had to stop and get the bear,” the boy shouted.

Mitch was already standing in mud and water up to his ankles. Fortunately, Ryan was able to get the passenger door open without his help.

Sliding behind the wheel, Mitch leaned over and pulled Ryan into the car beside him, then started the motor while the boy struggled to shut the heavy door against the force of the gale.

“Where’s the dog? Who’s got the dog?” Mitch shouted over the combined furor of the storm and his upset children.

“I don’t know,” Ryan hollered back. “Want me to go see?”

“No. Stay right where you are. I’ll get him.”

The moment Mitch opened the driver’s door the soggy little dog jumped in, bounded across his feet and scrambled over the back of the front seat as if he’d always done it that way.

The boys cheered.

“Belt yourselves in!” Mitch ordered.

He put the car in reverse, praying the tires wouldn’t slip in the slimy mud and wishing he’d had enough foresight to bring his four-wheel-drive pickup truck instead of the cumbersome passenger car.

Gently, evenly, he pressed the accelerator. Every instinct screamed for him to gun the motor, to race onto the paved road as fast as he could. But he knew better than to try.

The rear wheels slipped, spun. Mitch eased up on the gas, and they finally caught. He prayed a silent thanks to his heavenly Father, then added a fervent, soul-deep plea for further help, just as he had every single day and night his sons had been missing. Nothing like a disaster to bring out the spiritual side of a man, was there? Well, at least something good had come out of that time of horrible worry and loneliness.

Mitch’s hands clenched the wheel.

The heavy vehicle slipped and slid in and out of ruts as it inched backward out of the valley.

Even if there had been room to turn the car around, he wouldn’t have tried the maneuver in this weather. Too much chance of going off the road and getting mired in one of the ditches that ran along both sides.

He hardly had time to think about that danger before they skidded off the road and were mired up to their axles! Terrific. Now what? He glanced at his sons.

Ryan gave him a cynical look in reply. “Smooth move, Dad.”

Under other circumstances Mitch would have countered that comment, but right now he had more important things on his mind than the boy’s pessimism. He had to decide quickly what to do with his wet, shivering kids and the soggy dog. Given the current conditions, staying in the car was out of the question.

It didn’t take a genius to see that a short hike to the estate up the hill was the only sensible course of action. For the sake of the kids, he’d have to swallow his pride and ask for help. Again.

Too bad he hadn’t tried to make a better impression on the wealthy woman who lived there the first time he’d knocked on her door.

Getting Bud and Ryan up the hill was a lot harder for Mitch than climbing with the bucket had been. It was also dark and wet, and everybody was clammy and slippery.

Mitch finally slung the smaller boy under one arm like a sack of potatoes so he could carry him and still have one hand free to grab low-hanging tree branches to aid his ascent.

Ryan tried valiantly to keep up but made little forward progress while he was trying to hold on to the soggy dog. Finally, he set Barney down to fend for himself and concentrated on toting only the drenched teddy bear while Mitch struggled along with Bud.

By the time they topped the rise and came out of the forest onto the lawn of the estate, Mitch was so exhausted he dropped to his knees.

Fighting to catch his breath, he set Bud on his feet, “Okay. You can walk now.”

Though the rain had slackened some, it was still falling. Gusting wind made it feel colder. He pointed toward the house, thankful a few lights were on inside so the boys could see it clearly. “That’s where we’re going. It’s not much farther.”

Ryan drew up beside his father and whistled. “Whoa. Cool. Why didn’t you bring us here in the first place?”

“Look, the only reason we’re here tonight is because we need shelter and a dry place to sleep,” Mitch explained. “In the morning we’ll head back down to the cabin and see what kind of shape it’s in.”

“Bummer.”

“Get over it.” Mitch stood. “Come on, fellas. I don’t know about you, but I’m freezing. Grab the dog and let’s go.”

Chapter Three

B rianne was still sitting in the kitchen when she thought she heard a knock on the front door. Chalking it up to her imagination, she didn’t move. As isolated as the house was, she hardly ever had company, even on a nice day. On a wretched night like this it was unheard of.

A second knock made her jump. “Who in the world can that be?” There was only one way to find out—answer the door. But what if it was a burglar?

“A burglar wouldn’t knock,” she countered, chuckling softly. Just in case, however, she’d leave the chain fastened till she saw who it was. Too bad she didn’t have a baseball bat handy.

“Sure, then if it is a burglar I can ask him if he wants to play a few innings?” Bree taunted herself.

She was still smiling at the amusing idea as she unlocked the front door and opened it far enough to see if she really did have callers.

Oh, my! She certainly did! Not only was Mitch Fowler standing on her porch big as life—he had two dripping wet children at his side. The pose reminded her of a mother hen corralling her chicks to shelter them beneath her wings. How adorable!

Brianne quickly undid the chain and threw the door wide. “You look awful. Get in here where it’s dry.”

“You sure?”

“Of course!”

“Thanks. We got flooded out, and I didn’t know where else to go. The kids are pretty cold.”

Ushering his boys through the door without delay, he ran his hands over his wet hair to smooth it back, apparently trying to make himself presentable.

Bree thought he looked absolutely endearing. The tender way he was hovering over his children touched her heart and created a never-to-be-forgotten picture of true parenting. When she was little she would have given anything to see that kind of love in her father’s expression. The thought brought a melancholy smile.

Mitch’s glance met hers and lingered. “I hate to be a bother. Have you got a couple of extra blankets we could borrow? And maybe some spare towels?”

“Of course.” Blushing and pulling her cotton robe around her more tightly, she said, “Stay right where you are. Don’t move. I’ll go get them.”

She frowned momentarily at the water puddling on her shiny marble foyer floor, then hurried down the hall. In moments she was back and handing out towels. “Here. These will get you started.”

“Thanks. I’m really sorry about this, Ms. Bailey. I hadn’t intended to bother you again.”

“Please, call me Bree.”

“Bree? Okay. This is Ryan.” Mitch laid a hand on the boy’s thin shoulder, then touched his sibling in turn. “And this is Bud. The little furry one Ryan’s holding is named Barney. He’s new to our family.”

“How—sweet.” Though the whole group was dripping, the dog was definitely the dirtiest. Clearly, she wasn’t going to be able to dry off her guests and then send them packing. Therefore, they’d have to make other arrangements. Ones that would keep the current mess confined to a small area.

“I guess I should see what I can find for the boys to wear until their clothes and shoes are dry. As for you…” A blush warmed her cheeks when she scanned Mitch’s full height. “You’re much bigger than I am. I’m afraid you’ll have to rough it.”

“No problem—as long as my kids are okay. We really appreciate your hospitality, ma’am. We’ll be out of here as soon as possible.”

Bree shivered. The whole idea of having them stay, even temporarily, was so unsettling it made her insides tremble as she doled out more fluffy bath towels. And to think she’d just been yearning for some company because of the storm! What a stupid idea. Being lonesome was starting to look better by the minute.

Mitch’s hand accidentally brushed hers when he accepted the last towel. Startled, she pulled back and folded her arms across her chest in a defensive posture.

He gave her a concerned look. “You okay?”

“Storms make me nervous,” she replied.

“Not me. At least not until the one tonight. I’ve never seen that creek by Eldon’s rise so high or move so fast. I was afraid it might take out the whole cabin.”

“Is that what you meant by a flood?”

“Yeah.” Mitch draped another towel around Bud’s neck and proceeded to tousle his hair to dry it. “I tried to drive out to the main road, but we never made it.”

“Dad backed into a ditch and we got stuck,” Ryan piped up, wiggling and squirming. “Can I take a bath? I think I’ve got mud in my shorts.”

“Ryan! That’s enough. Mind your manners.”

Amused, Brianne pointed. “Sounds like a good idea to me. The downstairs bathroom is right around that corner. It has a large shower and linen closet. Take your family through there and down the tiled hall so you won’t get muddy tracks on the carpet. If you drop everybody’s wet clothes outside the bathroom door I’ll see that they’re washed and dried.”

“Gotcha. Thanks.”

Bending slightly, Mitch began to herd his little group of soggy refugees in the direction she’d indicated. All except one, that is.

In order to hold on to his towel, Ryan had had to put Barney down. The curious pup was busy sniffing his way across the foyer. Behind him, a line of smudged paw prints stood out prominently on the highly polished black marble floor.

“Uh-oh. Trouble,” Mitch muttered. Then louder, “Hey! Dog. Over here.” He began to whistle repeatedly while the children also called.

Barney ignored everything except the interesting scent he was tracking, which wasn’t too surprising since he’d only been with the family for a few hectic hours.

Mitch was about to leave the boys and go chasing after the wayward animal when Bree screeched, “Oh, no!” and dashed madly across the smooth floor.

She was really moving when her bare feet hit the rain puddle he and the boys had left. She started to slide, arms thrown out for balance, looking for all the world like a surfer hanging ten only without a surfboard or wave.

Mitch shouted, “Look out!”

Ryan punched the air over his head and hollered, “All right!” Bud clutched his teddy bear to his chest and wailed, “Barney! Barney!”

Brianne’s slide ended abruptly when she came to the edge of the slippery area. She staggered forward and almost fell flat on her face.

To Mitch’s relief, she regained her balance in time to overtake the shaggy little dog before it had walked three paces onto the cream-colored carpeting. He breathed a sigh.

The sense of relief didn’t last a millisecond. Barney was cringing. Poor pup must have been scared to death by all the noise, and now…

“Careful! Don’t scare him!” Mitch shouted. The warning came too late.

The moment Brianne reached down to grab the little dog he whimpered, shied and made a fresh puddle of his own. Right on her precious carpet!

Fortunately, by biting the inside of his lower lip, Mitch was able to keep from laughing out loud. Just barely.

By the time Mitch got his children showered and dressed in the makeshift outfits Bree had delivered to the luxurious bathroom, he was totally exhausted. He was also the only one who wasn’t clean, which meant he and the dog were probably still persona non grata in the rest of the house.

His biggest problem was what to do next. He’d already offered to shampoo the soiled carpet, but he couldn’t even do that much until he got himself clean and dry or he’d only make matters worse.

The boys were whooping it up so loudly he almost missed hearing the knock on the bathroom door.

He shushed them. “Yes?”

“It’s me, Mr. Fowler. Brianne. I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find anything for you to wear. What if I wash your wet things with the other clothes and get them back to you as soon as possible?”

“I suppose that beats staying in here till morning,” he answered. “Hold on. I’ll toss them out.”

“Hey, Dad, can we go with her?” Ryan asked. “There’s nothin’ fun to do in here.”

Mitch was about to deny his request when Bree said, “If the boys are showered and dressed they’re welcome to come out. I have cookies in the kitchen, and it’s no trouble at all to make up some hot chocolate.”

“Well… I don’t know.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine without you for an hour or so.”

Although he was anything but certain she was right, he gave in to the chorus of pleas that followed the mention of cocoa and cookies. “All right. Simmer down. You can go. But Barney stays here. And if you guys cause any trouble you’ll have to settle with me the minute I get my clothes back. Is that understood?”

Two small heads nodded soberly. That wasn’t nearly enough to negate Mitch’s misgivings, but it would have to do.

“Okay.”

He stripped off his muddy jeans and wadded them into a ball with his pajama top, grateful he’d left his pajama bottoms on underneath the jeans when he’d dressed in such a hurry.

Hiding behind the bathroom door, Mitch peered around it far enough to toss his clothes onto the pile with the other washing.

Bree waited nearby.

He smiled at her. “If the kids give you any grief, march them right back in here, and I’ll take over.”

“It’s a deal.”

She was amazed when she saw the boys parading out. They looked positively angelic! Their hair was slicked back, their feet were bare, and the shorts and T-shirts she’d found for them were so roomy they made the children seem even smaller than they actually were.

The contrast between the way they looked now and the way they’d looked when they’d arrived was truly miraculous. The younger one was holding a scruffy teddy bear, which had obviously had a bath, too.

She paused and smiled, assessing the boys looking at her with such expectant expressions. How darling! Mitch Fowler must be awfully cynical to imagine that such cute kids would cause trouble. He probably didn’t have a clue how to handle them properly, the poor little things.

“Come on. This way,” Bree said, starting off. Ryan, Bud and Bud’s teddy bear followed obediently.

When they got to the kitchen, Bree helped Bud crawl into a chair, then smiled with satisfaction. This wasn’t so bad, was it? Maybe their short stay wasn’t going to upset her routine as much as she’d thought. After all, she didn’t dare use her computer during inclement weather anyway, and as soon as the skies cleared they’d all go home, and she could get back to work without any more distraction.

Satisfied, she placed a napkin in front of each boy and laid two cookies in the center. “Hot chocolate coming up.”

“I want whipped cream on mine,” Ryan ordered.

“Sorry, I don’t have any whipped cream.”

To Bree’s surprise, Bud immediately began to whimper while his brother made a sour face and turned sullen. Apparently, the boys’ cute, agreeable phase was over already. Oh, well.

“I like to float those little tiny marshmallows in my hot chocolate,” she said brightly. “I’ll put some in your cups, and you can tell me if you like them, too.”

“I hate mush mellows,” Ryan said.

“Not mush. Marshmallows.”

Crossing to the table, she dropped several of the small, rounded balls of candy fluff onto the napkins with the boys’ cookies. “There you go. That’s what they look like. You can eat them just like that. When they’re floating in hot cocoa they melt and get really good and gooey.”

The children were still sitting there, pouting and staring at the napkins, when Bree set their mugs on the table. “Okay. Here’s your drink. It’s hot. Sip it slowly so you don’t burn yourselves. And be careful not to get melted marshmallow stuck to the end of your nose. That always happens to me.”

She sipped at the contents of her mug with theatrical relish, then licked her lips and set the drink aside.

“I’m going to go start the washing machine so you can have your regular clothes back,” she said. “I won’t be gone long.”

Eyeing Ryan’s defiant expression, she decided it would be prudent to add, “If you move off those chairs or do anything except eat and drink while I’m out of the kitchen, I’ll have to put you back in with your daddy like he said. Got that?”

Neither boy spoke, but Bree was certain they both understood. Headstrong Ryan was giving her a dirty look, and Bud was clutching his teddy bear so tightly it was leaving a damp spot on the front of his T-shirt.