Blessings of the Heart (9 page)

“Mitch.” She opened her eyes. “We need to talk.”

He sat next to her, whispered, “Later,” and gently stroked her long, golden hair.

Their lips were almost touching, his breath warm on her face. Trembling, Bree waited. The feather-light kiss she was expecting came, followed without pause by a heavier, more insistent pressure.

Her heart leaped, danced, raced. It was as if Mitch had breached her soul through that simple contact. She wrapped her arms around his neck, meeting him with an eagerness that rivaled his.

Being so near to him left her breathless, and when he pulled her even closer, she wondered if the world had suddenly tipped off its normal axis.
Her
world certainly had! It didn't seem to matter what kind of touch, what kind of kiss, Mitch bestowed upon her. Everything he did was so astounding, so amazingly perfect, she could hardly believe she wasn't dreaming.

Lost in the moment, Brianne was surprised and flustered when he broke contact and set her away from him without warning. This wasn't the way a perfect love scene was supposed to turn out!

She blinked to clear her vision. Mitch was standing there, staring at her as if he'd never seen her before.

“I'd better go,” he said, his voice raw with emotion.

“Why?”

“Because it's getting late.”

The lame excuse hurt so much she couldn't bring herself to argue. “I suppose you're right.”

“See you in the morning, then?”

“I'll try to have breakfast ready around eight, if that's not too late.”

Frustrated, tense, Mitch combed his fingers through his hair. “Eight is fine. After we get the kids fed I think I'll go ahead and hike down the dirt road a ways, like I said before. Maybe I can see enough to tell how bad the damage is. It's possible a four-by-four could get us out of here if anybody knew we were stranded.”

Are you in that much of a hurry to leave? she wondered. She refused to swallow her pride and ask. Instead, she said, “That's a good idea. I keep checking the telephone. The line is still dead.”

“Too bad we messed up your cell phone.”

A lot of things are too bad, Bree mused. Like the fact that we'll have nothing in common, nothing to hold us together once this calamity is over.

Mitch was edging toward the library door. Brianne wanted to reach out to him, to beg him to take her in his arms, to kiss her again. Instead, she remained quiet and let him go.

She'd known him for what—two days at the most? Yet she was yearning for him like a silly teen with her first crush. That wasn't sensible. Nor was it normal. At least not for her.

Slowly shaking her head, she sighed. It might not make any sense, but it was a fact. She was so enamored of Mitch Fowler, constant thoughts of him were driving her crazy. It had been bad enough before he'd kissed her. Now that he had, she wondered how she was going to cope, how she was going to resist making a blithering fool of herself around him.

A vivid image popped into Bree's mind and immediately struck her funny. She saw herself clad in a long, flowing white gown. Beautifully hued ribbons were streaming from her hair, and she was leaping through a field of wildflowers in slow motion like a ballerina, eventually throwing herself headlong into Mitch's strong, open arms.

The exaggerated spectacle reminded her of the reunion of long-lost lovers in an old movie—combined with a recent TV commercial for the latest allergy medicine!

“May cause unwelcome side effects,” she quoted. “And may be habit forming!” No kidding.

There was no use arguing with herself about that. She was already having to deal with plenty of unwelcome side effects when Mitch was nearby, like fluttering heartbeats, sweaty palms and an inability to form sane thoughts. The only good thing about being so dithered was that those strong feelings would eventually help her write better love scenes.

As for the idea that she'd already gotten in the habit of having Mitch underfoot, could that possibly have happened in such a short time?

The answer was a resounding, disconcerting yes.

B
rianne had never been one to stand by and let circumstances run her life. This time was no exception. When she finally gave up and went to bed that night, she'd narrowed her choices of action to two that were workable.

The way she saw it, she could either try to keep Mitch and his family with her long enough for their initial attraction to wear off, or she could hurry his departure and save herself the heartache she was afraid would eventually come once he realized how incompatible they were.

A soft sound in the hallway outside her bedroom caught her attention. She strained to listen. She couldn't tell if she was hearing a child's sniffling
or if Barney had escaped and was nosing around. Either way, the situation called for investigation.

She pulled a light cotton robe over her gown, went to her door and eased it open. Bud was standing there, barefoot, clad in a T-shirt that was miles too big, hugging his bear and wearing the most pitiful expression she'd ever seen.

Brianne smiled and instinctively dropped to her knees so they'd be at the same eye level. “Hi, honey. What's the matter? Couldn't you sleep?”

He shook his tousled head, his lower lip quivering.

Maybe his silence was due to her lack of rapport with small children, but as far as Bree could recall, the little boy had never talked much in her presence. Considering the trauma he'd been through recently, it wasn't surprising he was shy.

Unsure how to comfort him, she decided to start with the obvious. “Are you hungry?”

Again, he shook his head.

“Then what's the matter? Can you tell me?”

Tears began to fill Bud's limpid eyes, making them seem larger and more expressive than ever.

The little boy looked so small, so lost, Bree couldn't resist reaching out to him.

The moment she opened her arms, Bud dropped his teddy bear and threw himself at her, clinging as if he were adrift at sea and she held the only life
line. His little arms went around her neck and clasped tightly as he buried his face against her shoulder.

“Oh, baby,” she crooned. “It's okay. Don't be scared. I've got you. I've got you.”

Limitless love poured from her soul and bathed them both in its grace. Brianne couldn't believe what was happening. There wasn't a maternal bone in her body, so what was she doing on her knees in the middle of the night, hugging a frightened, lonely little boy? This experience with the Fowlers was certainly getting complicated.

She began to rock in place, soothing Bud with softly uttered sounds while she mulled over the kinds of support she'd already decided to offer. Helping Ryan would be easy. All she had to do was arrange for tutoring to bring him up to grade level. And Mitch would benefit from her generosity in regard to his lost cabin and personal possessions, so he was taken care of. The question was, what in the world could she hope to do for Bud?

The unspoken answer filled her heart and mind. You're doing it. Just love him.

I can't love him, Bree argued. I can't. It's not in me. I don't understand children. I never have. Look at the way I was brought up. I'd ruin any kid I tried to raise. I know I would.

Tears misted Bree's vision as she held the needy
six-year-old close and kissed the top of his tousled head. This was all wrong! She had her future sensibly planned. It wasn't supposed to include any children.

Maybe I can buy Bud a bicycle or something, she reasoned.

Immediately, her conscience twitched uncomfortably. Shame on you. This is not about money, this is about love.

How could she argue? Apparently, she'd needed a visual aid to convince her this kind of love was possible, because there was no mistaking what was going on. The proof was clinging to her with complete trust and unqualified affection.

“Oh, dear.” Brianne started to sniffle the way the child had when he'd first come to her. “Oh, dear, oh, dear.”

That was enough to get Bud's attention. He loosened his hold on her neck, then bent to pick up his teddy bear.

He held it out. “Here,” he said, clearly yet softly. “He'll make it all better.”

She had to fight to keep from weeping out loud. This tenderhearted child, whom she hardly knew, was offering to share his most precious possession. There was no way she'd refuse such a kindness.

“Thank you, honey.” Smiling through her tears,
she included the worn teddy bear in their mutual hug. “I feel better already.”

“Told ya.”

“You sure did.”

Still cradling the raggedy toy, she got to her feet and held out her hand to Bud. “What do you say you and I go downstairs and see if we can find some cookies?”

“Okay. Only my bear doesn't like cookies. I'll have to eat his for him.”

Brianne laughed and played along. “You're the expert. Shall we bring some back for your brother, too?”

“Naw,” Bud said. “He doesn't like cookies, either.” His grin spread wide.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then I guess you'll have to eat his, too, right?”

The little boy muffled a high-pitched giggle with his free hand before he answered, “Yup. I guess I will.”

 

Mitch was already frying bacon when Brianne wandered into the kitchen the following morning.

She yawned. “Do you always get up this early?”

“I like mornings.”

“Me, too,” she muttered, heading for the coffeepot, “as long as they start around nine or ten.”

He laughed. “That's almost noon to me.”

“Fine. Then skip breakfast and start with lunch.” Another yawn was followed by a sigh. “I told you I'd start cooking around eight, and you said that was fine. If you wanted to eat earlier you should have said so. What time is it, anyway?”

“Around six-thirty.” Her resulting groan brought a chuckle from him. “If you wouldn't spend half the night raiding the cookie jar, maybe you wouldn't be so tired.”

Her head snapped around so fast she sloshed her coffee. “How do you know about that?”

“My first clue? The crumbs I found in my bed,” Mitch said. “Bud crawled in with me sometime during the night and brought a fistful of extra cookies with him. When I asked him about it, he said you and he had been having a late-night snack.”

“Us and the bear. So, you didn't actually see us?”

“No. Why?”

“No particular reason. I just wondered.” Until she was able to sort out her confusing sentiments she didn't want to get into a discussion about the merits of motherhood versus a life without offspring. And she certainly didn't want to influence Mitch by playing up her newly discovered affinity for one of his children.

She carried her cup to the table and plopped
down. “If I'd realized how early it was I wouldn't have gotten dressed. I'm glad you've decided to cook. I'm beat.”

“You look like it,” he teased, taking in her lightweight jeans and shirt appreciatively. The blue color almost matched her eyes.

Bree made a face. “Thanks a heap.”

“It might help if you combed your hair.”

“I did. Didn't I?” She started to smooth her long hair back from her face with her fingers, realized he was right and frowned. “Oops. Guess I forgot. I told you I was tired.”

“Don't worry about it. You look kind of cute all mussed like that. It's a good thing you're not trying to cook our breakfast, though. It was interesting enough when you were making dinner wide awake.”

“I'd have done fine if you hadn't tried to help.”

“The potatoes were good.”

“Sure, thanks to your pouring cheese all over them. I told you I didn't know anything about what kids liked.”

“You did okay with the cookies last night.”

Brianne took a careful sip of her coffee, stalling while she tried to think of another snappy comeback. Before she could come up with one, Ryan dashed into the kitchen, slid to a stop and confronted her.

“Where's the bear?” he hollered. “What'd you do with it?”

Taken aback by his hostility, Bree stared at him. “What?”

“My brother's bear. Where is it? I want it back. Now!”

To her relief, Mitch placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and said, “Knock it off, Ryan. That's no way to talk to Ms. Bailey.”

“But—”

“I said, knock it off.” Mitch looked to Brianne. “Do you know what he's talking about?”

“Sure. Bud loaned me his bear, that's all. It's fine. I tried to give it back to him last night, but he wouldn't take it.”

Ryan stiffened. “You didn't lose it?”

“Of course not. It's right upstairs in my room.”

Twisting out of his father's hold, the eight-year-old dashed from the kitchen without further comment.

Puzzled, Bree focused on Mitch. “Okay. You understand kids. What just happened here?”

“Beats me. I've had a hiatus from parenting, remember?”

“At least you were a little boy once. I never was.”

“I must confess, I already had that much figured out.”

The look Bree gave him in response was so comical he almost burst out laughing.

“What's so funny, mister?”

“You are. I think one of us ought to follow Ryan and make sure he doesn't get into anything that's none of his business. I shouldn't leave the bacon right now. Do you mind doing it?”

“Not at all.” Rising, Brianne smoothed her tangled hair. “I have to go upstairs, anyway, and make myself more presentable. The new chef we hired has complained that I'm unfit to grace his kitchen.”

“Don't misquote me. I said you were cute that way.”

“Cute is for puppies and kittens and little kids. I'd rather look like I have it together, thank you.”

“Whatever.” With a nonchalant shrug, Mitch turned his back to her and appeared to give the sizzling bacon his full attention. Much of his mind, however, was busy trying to figure out why Brianne seemed unwilling to accept a sincere compliment because she wasn't precisely groomed. Didn't she know how endearing she was when she relaxed and stopped trying to prove whatever it was she was trying to prove?

Then again, maybe it was normal for a woman to think she had to have every hair in place. Personally, he didn't care whether Bree was dressed up or running around the house barefoot. All he
wanted to do was look at her, be with her. She was doing everything she could to discourage him, yet he couldn't get her out of his mind for even a few minutes. No wonder he understood kids so well. He was acting like a child. The one thing he'd been told he couldn't possibly have was the one he wanted most.

 

Brianne met Ryan coming out of her room. “I see you found Bud's bear.”

“Yeah.”

“I told you it was okay.”

His icy glare was unnerving. She refused to be cowed. “Would you like to tell me why you were so worried?”

“No.”

“Then how about telling me something about the bear? Where did Bud get it?”

“From our mother. Why?”

“I just wondered.”

“It's none of your business,” the boy muttered. He tucked the toy under his arm and disappeared down the hall before she could think of a suitable reply.

Astonished, Bree returned to the kitchen.

“Did he find it?” Mitch asked.

“Yes.”

“Then why are you frowning?”

“Kids,” she said. “I don't understand them at all.”

“Welcome to the club. What happened up there?”

“Ryan is furious with me.”

“Why?”

“I don't know. He acted like he thought I'd stolen the bear from Bud. It was weird.”

“No kidding?” Mitch took the hot frying pan off the burner so he could give Brianne his full attention. “What, exactly, did you say to him?”

“Nothing much. I just asked where Bud got the bear.”

“And?”

“That was all. Ryan said it came from their mother.”

“You're positive he was mad at you?”

Bree arched her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah. Does his reaction make any sense to you?”

“Maybe.” Mitch nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Ryan hasn't told me much about the years he spent with his mother. I do know he was left in charge of Bud a lot of the time. Maybe he got to thinking of his brother as his personal responsibility. Even so, that's no reason to be rude to you. I'll have a talk with him.”

“Forget it. I'm already on his bad side. If he
thinks I ratted on him, he'll be positive I'm one of the bad guys.”

Mitch gave her a lopsided smile. “Guess he doesn't know about the cookie spree you and Bud went on last night, huh?”

“I guess not. Sorry about the crumbs in your bed. I told Bud he could take some cookies upstairs with him. I didn't realize that I should have explained he wasn't supposed to sleep with them.”

“Kids take things literally,” Mitch said. “If you leave out details, they'll assume there are no restrictions. I'm just thankful you didn't give him something messier.”

“Like ice cream.” She laughed softly. “He asked for some of that, too.”

“Which reminds me. We need to check our food supplies and make sure we ration the important stuff. Just in case.”

She didn't even want to consider the possibility of long-term isolation. “I've already looked through the pantry and the freezer. Surely we won't be stuck here long enough to run out of food.”

“I'll know more after I've hiked down the road a ways and scoped it out. I want to take a list with me so I'll know what extras to pick up in case I make it as far as Burnham's store.”

“Where's that? I've never heard of it.”

“It's a couple of ridges to the west of here. When
I was a kid, I used to run errands over that way for my aunt. I hope the old place is still there.” He smiled in fond remembrance. “Chances are she didn't need the stuff from Burnham's nearly as much as she needed to get me out of the cabin—and out of her hair.”