Blessings of the Heart and Samantha's Gift

by Valerie Hansen

  “Any spiritual fire I ever had is long gone,” Bree said.

  Mitch smiled knowingly. “That’s because no flame will continue to burn unless it’s well tended. If you don’t want to go back to church, at least consider picking up the Bible once in a while. You might be surprised.”

  That was what she was afraid of. The disconcerting turn of their conversation had left her unsettled and jittery. As a child, she’d expected messages from God to be delivered to her the same way they had been in biblical times. Angels were supposed to swoop down. Or a finger was supposed to write on the wall. Or bright lights and flames were supposed to miraculously appear and speak.

  It was beginning to occur to Brianne that an important part of her psyche may have failed to mature after her mother’s death. If that were true, then it was also possible that Mitch Fowler had been sent to awaken her dormant faith.

  The whole idea gave her goose bumps. If she accepted that premise, then she’d also have to accept the existence of a God who cared, who watched over His own.

  That concept brought her thoughts full circle and slammed them hard against the brick wall she’d built around her heart. If there was a God, He hadn’t cared enough to save her mother, so how could she ever hope to trust Him again?

  Mitch had been studying Brianne’s changing expression as they’d walked and talked. Clearly, she was too overwrought to look after his rambunctious children. Mitch knew Ryan. He’d sense her unsettled state and capitalize on it the minute he got the chance, which would only make matters worse. That left Mitch with only two options. He could either stay at the house with the others or take them all along. He chose the latter.

  “Look,” he said, lightly touching Bree’s arm to get her attention. “Why don’t you go dig out those boots you said you had, and we’ll all take a hike down the road? The kids need to get out of the house, and so do you. How about it? I promise we won’t be gone too long.”

  The look in his eyes was so kind it brought a lump to her throat. Seeking to distract herself, to keep from taking him too seriously, she made a joke. “You sure you’re not trying to get me out into the woods so you can ditch me?”

  Mitch chuckled. “If I was going to ditch anybody it would be good old Barney.”

  “Now you’re talking,” she said with a silly grin. “Okay. You go break the news to the kids, and I’ll put on my boots. Meet you back here in five minutes.”

  Starting away, she paused to add, “And I like your other idea, too. Don’t forget to bring the dog!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Mitch led. Sullen Ryan was second. Bud was hanging on to his bear for dear life and Bree was plodding along in her heavy hiking boots, bringing up the rear. Only Barney seemed totally thrilled with their outing. He raced in circles, his tiny feet barely touching the ground.

  Reaching the end of the driveway where the dirt road began, Mitch paused to let them close ranks, turned and smiled. “Okay. Ready?”

  Though Bree knew he’d been asking if they were ready to hike along the damaged road, she couldn’t help relating the question to her personal life. Was she ready for Mitch Fowler? For what she might find if she gave herself permission to fall in love with him? Moreover, was she ready to throw away all her previously sensible decisions about her future for his sake and the sake of his children?

  Not yet, she insisted, hurrying to keep pace with his longer strides. Not yet.

  Soon? her rebellious subconscious asked.

  All Brianne could truthfully promise herself was, maybe. That would have to suffice. Under the present trying circumstances, she figured she was doing well to think reasonably, let alone try to adhere to the inflexible ideals she’d set for her prospective mate.

  Inside, she was laughing at herself. There wasn’t a thing about Mitch Fowler that even remotely qualified him to become her husband. He was the last—the very last—man she should be attracted to.

  Yet he was the first who had ever gotten this close to capturing her heart and soul.

  Progress was slow because of the children. There was so much mud sticking to the bottoms and outer edges of Bud’s sneakers he had to lift his knees in a march step to even walk.

  Ryan did better only because he continually stamped his feet. That threw globs of mud against anything within three or four feet of him, including his legs, but at least he was able to keep up with his father.

  Bree was not only as encumbered as poor Bud, she had more trouble keeping her balance than he did. She was toying with the idea of taking him with her and turning back when she noticed with a start that Mitch and Ryan were no longer visible.

  “Where’d your daddy go?” she asked the younger boy.

  “Over there.”

  Arms held out for balance, she drew up next to him. “Where? Show me.”

  He pointed. “I think they fell down.”

  “Oh, no. Surely not.”

  That suggestion was enough to flip Bree’s stomach into her throat and send her heart on a runaway ride. Grasping the child’s hand, she hurried him along. Up ahead the road seemed to vanish. Until they reached that place, there was no way to tell if the drop-off was dangerous.

  To her relief, the distance to the bottom of the gully was barely fifteen feet, with a gentle slope. It looked, however, as slick as any plastic slide at a water park.

  Mitch smiled from the bottom and held out his hand when he saw her peering over the edge. “Come on. It’s easy.”

  “No way. It’s too slippery.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll catch you. If Ryan and Barney and I can do it, you can.”

  “What about Bud? I can’t just leave him up here.”

  “You’re right. Send him down first, then come yourself.”

  She crouched next to the little boy, sensing his fright. “I guess we’re going to have to do this, or Ryan and your daddy will think we’re chicken.”

  A shake of his head was his only comment.

  “I know how you feel,” she said softly, “but we don’t have much of a choice. How about doing it together? We could hold hands. Then you could help me.”

  To her relief that logic seemed to help. Bud took her hand again and held tight as she straightened. Together they stepped closer to the edge and took their first tentative steps onto the incline.

  Brianne felt her feet begin slip almost immediately. She didn’t dare let go of Bud, and with no way to stop their rapid descent she had no choice but to balance as best she could and ski directly into Mitch’s open arms.

  Waiting at the bottom, Mitch saw what was happening and braced himself. If he bent to catch his little boy, Brianne was liable to flatten them both. If he caught her, maybe that would be good enough. He had only an instant to decide.

  Bree careened squarely into his chest.

  He let out a muffled oof as he seized and steadied her, hands spanning her waist. A satisfied smile lit his face when he felt Bud’s arms grabbing his leg. “Gotcha! Both!”

  Ryan was jumping up and down like a cheerleader and whooping with glee. “Good one, Dad!”

  “Thanks.” Mitch’s grin widened. Holding his ground, he used the opportunity to gaze into Bree’s wide eyes. “What happened? I thought you guys were coming down one at a time?”

  “I needed Bud to help me be brave enough,” she said. “I couldn’t have done it without him.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “You can let go of me now.” Bree pushed the man away, stepped back and nervously ran her hands over her hips as if her jeans needed smoothing. “I shouldn’t have let you bully me into trying to do that. My boots didn’t help at all.”

  “Nothing does in slimy clay. Your biggest problem was fear. You were way too tense.”

  A disclaimer was definitely called for. “Who wouldn’t be tense sliding down a mountain of mud?” She tentatively lifted one foot. “Look what it’s done to my poor boots! They didn’t have a mark on them when we left home this morning. The awful stains will never come out of this suede.”<
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  “Good. Then there won’t be any reason for you to avoid walking in the woods in the future. You need to listen to the birds, appreciate the wonders all around you, instead of always worrying about everything being perfect.”

  Frowning, Bree was still examining her feet. “Perfect? Look at the globs of gunk stuck to my soles. If I walk much farther it’ll be so thick I’ll be six feet tall, like Bud.”

  Mitch chuckled and reached down to ruffle his youngest son’s hair as he untangled him from around his lower leg and carefully set him apart, bear and all. “No, you won’t. It’ll fall off before then. Look. Most of the mud came off Bud when he skied down the hill with you.”

  “Nifty. Maybe I should climb up and come down again.”

  “Don’t do that on my account,” Mitch quipped. “Catching you when you’re going fifty miles an hour is hard on me.”

  “Poor baby.”

  “I knew you’d be concerned. If you want, we can wait a minute while you wipe your feet.”

  “With what?”

  “You weren’t kidding about being raised in the city, were you?” he said, grinning. “Since you won’t find a boot scraper out here, I suggest you use a clump of leaves or a rock.”

  If Mitch had dreamed she’d start to wade into the highest grass along the edge of the road to take his advice he’d have been a lot more specific.

  “Not in there!” He grabbed her arm and yanked her clear, careful to keep from flinging her into the boys. “You’ll get covered with seed ticks.”

  “Well, make up your mind.” To her consternation, he’d crouched at her feet and was closely examining the denim covering her lower legs. She was about to order him to stop when he mumbled, “Uh-oh. Too late.” He began swatting at her ankle.

  That didn’t set well with Bree. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Saving you from weeks of itching,” Mitch said. “If these little bugs have a chance to climb higher you’ll be real sorry, believe me.”

  Bree bent over and stared. “I don’t see a thing.”

  “Well, I do.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Okay. If you don’t want my help…”

  She paused long enough to consider his evident sincerity. “Show me one, and I’ll believe you.”

  “I thought Missouri was the show me state. This is Arkansas.”

  “Humor me.”

  Mitch pinched the fabric near her ankle and held up his index finger. “There. See?”

  “No.” Bree squinted and peered at his fingertip.

  “You’re looking for something too big. Think tiny. Almost invisible. Just look for movement—and hurry up. I don’t want this one to decide it likes the taste of me better than it does you.”

  Curiosity got the best of Ryan, and he crept closer to see, too. “Oh, wow! Awesome, Dad.”

  Thunderstruck, Brianne realized Mitch had been telling the truth. “Oh, for…” Instantly itchy from head to toe she started stamping her feet. “Ah! Get them off me!”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do,” he said. “Hold still. Stop wiggling around.”

  “I feel like they’re…” Glancing at the children and beginning to blush, she broke off and began hitting herself higher on both legs, hoping to do some good. “Never mind. Just get the rest of them off. Quick!”

  Mitch took another couple of hard swipes at the fabric around her ankles, then straightened. “When you get back to the house you’ll need to use bleach on your legs while you shower. That should take care of any I’ve missed.”

  “What do you mean, missed? You can’t miss any. They’ll bite me!”

  “Unfortunately. You shouldn’t have waded into that long grass. Big clumps of newly hatched ticks hang on the tips of the tallest blades waiting for a victim to pass by and knock them off. That’s why I pulled you out of there so fast.”

  “I wish you’d warned me not to get near the grass in the first place.”

  “I didn’t realize I needed to.” His grin widened as he vigorously dusted off his hands. “Even the kids know better than to do that. You mentioned ticks a while back, so I figured you knew, too.”

  “I do—now,” Bree said with a grimace. “Can we go home soon?”

  “Gladly. We’re almost to where the paved road starts. I’m pretty sure that’ll be intact. The bad spots the radio reported should be between here and there. We’ll know in a couple more minutes. Think you’re up to finishing the hike?”

  Brianne didn’t answer except to break away while he was still speaking and begin clomping down the middle of the rutted road. Gummy clay coated the soles of her ankle-high boots and rolled up along the sides, hampering her progress. She persisted until the worst of the accumulation had sloughed off, glob by glob.

  “Hey. Slow down and wait for the kids.” Mitch’s longer strides brought him even with her. “This isn’t a race.”

  “It is for me. The sooner I get out of these clothes, the better I’ll like it.” Cheeks flaming, she cast him a sidelong glance then lowered her voice so the boys couldn’t overhear. “Don’t look so smug, mister. You know what I meant.”

  “I’m not smug,” Mitch argued. “I know exactly how you feel.” It was his turn to blush. “And you know what I meant.”

  Brianne couldn’t help smiling. “Maybe we’d better quit talking before we’re both any more embarrassed.” She paused, listening. “Is that a motor I hear?”

  “I think so!” Mitch looked back and motioned to the plodding boys. “Come on, you guys! We hear a car!”

  The road ahead was narrow and winding with a few drop-offs. It was those places that showed the worst damage, the deepest cuts. Small valleys made the sound of the engine echo, confusing the direction it was coming from. All Mitch could hope for was that the vehicle they’d heard was on the same trail they were.

  Bree lagged. “Slow down. You’re killing us.”

  “You don’t want whoever it is to get away, do you?”

  “Of course not. Maybe you should go on ahead. I’ll bring the kids. None of us are used to running in pudding.”

  “Feels more like cold oatmeal to me,” Mitch countered. “You know. Gummy.”

  “What a disgusting thought. I don’t think I’ll ever eat oatmeal again without thinking of this. Yuck.”

  “I didn’t like the stuff in the first place,” he said. “Give me ham and eggs any day.”

  “Stop. You’re making me hungry again.”

  “That’s because you didn’t eat enough of the great breakfast I cooked. You don’t know what you missed. Barney loved the leftovers.”

  “Brag, brag, brag. You’re insufferable.”

  “Thanks.”

  They rounded a corner masked by a thick stand of oaks and came upon the source of the noise. A white pickup truck with a county logo on the door sat on the opposite side of a wide fissure. The driver was gunning the motor. A second man was leaning on the handle of a shovel and squinting at the mired rear of the truck.

  Mitch waved and shouted at them across the mucky chasm. “Hey! Over here!”

  The man with the shovel spat into the dirt and slowly made his way around the truck to join his partner. As soon as the driver shut off the truck’s engine, the man cupped his hand and called, “You folks all right?”

  “As all right as a person can be when he’s stranded,” Mitch shouted. “How soon before you guys fix this road?”

  The driver climbed out and waved. “That you, Mitch?”

  “Yeah. Charlie?”

  “In the flesh. What’re you doin’ up here?” With a chuckle he added, “Never mind. I can see what you’re doin’.”

  Embarrassed, Brianne sidled away from Mitch and folded her arms while she watched the children approach.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” Mitch said. “My car’s stuck in a ditch up on Nine Mile Ridge. Any chance you can send somebody up there to pull it out for me?”

  “’Fraid not. That road’s messed up worse’n thi
s one. We should have this place fixed in a day or so, though. Gotta get some good fill dirt in here and tamp it down. If we don’t have any more gully washers it won’t take long.”

  “What do you know about the phones?”

  “Not a thing. That’s not our department,” Charlie said. “We’ve got enough problems with these here roads. You wouldn’t believe the mess that storm made.”

  Mitch frowned. “Oh, yes, I would. Remind me to tell you about it when I get to town.”

  “Hey, I see you got your boys,” the other man said. “They okay, too?”

  “Fine. We’re all fine. Right now we’re staying at the Bailey place.”

  “Don’t recall anybody by that name up this way,” Charlie said. “Do you, Sam?”

  The other man shook his head. “Nope. Must be newcomers.”

  Brianne stepped forward and tapped Mitch on the shoulder. “I have an unlisted number. Give it to them in case the phones start working, and then let’s get back to the house. I itch all over.”

  “Okay.” He shouted the numbers across the void as she recited them to him.

  “Got it,” Charlie said. “Take care a yourself, Mitch. I’ll do what I can.” Pausing, he glanced at the rear of his truck and snorted in disgust. “As soon as Sam gets me dug out, that is.”

  Mitch waved goodbye and turned to go, finding Bree and his sons thirty feet ahead of him, and headed the way they’d come. He hurried to catch up.

  “Wait for me.”

  Busy trying to keep her balance on the uneven, slippery road, Bree barely acknowledged him until he pulled even with her and asked, “What’s your hurry?”

  She gave him a dirty look. “I think I feel ticks in places I didn’t even know I had.”

  “Well, don’t take it out on me. It’s not my fault you were too prissy to put up with a little mud on your shoes.”

  Ryan’s resulting giggle put her in an even worse mood. “Prissy? Ha! I’m not having trouble putting up with anything but you,” she declared.

  Although Mitch didn’t reply, his hurt expression made her conscience twitch uncomfortably. What was wrong with her? Why was she being so unkind to him all of a sudden? When you got down to basics, their present situation wasn’t really his fault any more than it was hers.