Brianne racked her brain. Had he? Probably. Whenever Mitch was speaking she’d constantly had to fight to keep her mind from wandering the way it did when she was formulating a plot for one of her stories.
“Okay,” she admitted, “maybe you did say something about having a job. But that doesn’t mean I understood what you meant.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think I do,” Mitch told her. “You were judging me by what you could see. You’d decided from the get-go that I was a poor hillbilly without a dime so you didn’t pay attention to anything I said that might have changed your mind.”
“I did nothing of the kind!”
“Oh, no? I lived in a cabin with no running water or indoor plumbing. As far as you knew, I was raising my sons there. When we got flooded out, I showed up with a handful of possessions and nothing else.” He huffed in disgust. “I’m surprised you even let us in.”
In retrospect, so was she. Normally she’d have been so apprehensive of a knock on her door in the middle of a storm she’d have hesitated to answer it at all. Yet she had. And had immediately taken in the waifs on her doorstep as if she were running some kind of halfway house for soggy ragamuffins.
The analogy brought her up short. That was how she’d viewed Mitch and his family, wasn’t it? Well, it wasn’t her fault. He’d certainly looked the part both times she’d seen him.
“I suppose I should apologize,” Bree finally said. “I’m still getting used to living out here in the country. Nothing is like where I came from. It’s a whole new world for me.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
“You don’t have to sound so smug.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry, too.” He picked up a cookie and studied it to give himself something to do besides look at Bree. He finally took a bite and chewed slowly. “Now that I think about it, I was doing the same kind of thing with regard to you until recently.”
Bree was puzzled. “You were?”
“Yes. I’d made up my mind that you and I could never get along together because of this fancy-schmancy house of yours and the way you live.”
“You were right.”
“Nope,” he drawled. “I was wrong. If you were really as prissy as I’d thought, you’d have thrown us out on our ears long ago.” He chuckled. “Especially Barney.”
Mitch’s good humor was affecting Bree’s mood. “That had occurred to me. Often. I’d have done it, too, except I didn’t want the kids to pitch a fit.”
“I don’t buy that. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to try to convince me you don’t like the boys. If that were truly the case, you wouldn’t care how upset they got.”
“Sure I would. I’m not mean.”
An enigmatic smile lit his countenance. “My point, exactly.”
By the time Bree and Mitch left the kitchen it was after ten. Yawning behind his hand, he bid her a polite good-night and said, “Guess the kids forgot their cookies and went straight up to bed. I’ll go tuck them in. See you in the morning.” He started up the stairs.
“Good night.”
Trapped amid whirling emotions and confused thoughts, Brianne headed toward her office. There was no way she could recapture the mood to work on her book. Not tonight. Not after the disturbing conversation she and Mitch had just had. It didn’t matter that he’d been dead wrong about her. Once real life intruded and she lost the feeling that she was a part of her ongoing story, her creativity vanished.
She knew she could either be sensible and quit for the night, or sit at her computer and stare blankly at the blinking cursor while her mind wandered. In other words, the lights were on but there was definitely nobody home.
The door to her office stood ajar. Pushing it all the way open, Brianne froze, puzzled. Something looked wrong. Her desk chair had been rolled up to face the computer, and although she couldn’t see anyone sitting in it because its back was toward the door, she could look past it and see colorful figures dancing across the edges of her monitor screen.
She stared, openmouthed and unbelieving. Then, she launched herself across the room with a yowl that could have been heard all the way to Little Rock—and probably was.
“No! Not my computer!”
She grabbed the back of the swivel chair and spun it around. There sat Ryan, hands in the air as if he were an arch criminal who had just been caught red-handed by the police. Bud, who was squeezed into the chair beside him, puckered up to cry.
Apparently Ryan had been balancing the keyboard in his lap, because when Bree moved the chair, the short cable beneath the keyboard held it back and sent it crashing to the floor.
“I don’t believe you did this!” she screeched. “How could you? How dare you? You’re supposed to be in bed!”
“It’s just a game,” the older boy said. “We didn’t hurt your stupid computer.”
“Stupid computer?” Bree howled. “It’s my whole life! My business. I can’t work without it.”
“So?”
“So? So?”
She was so angry at the inconsiderate child she didn’t know what to do or say next. Mitch appeared in the doorway just in time. Bud bailed out of the chair and ran to him. Ryan went, too, though he took his time.
Scowling, Mitch looked to Bree for answers. “I heard you screaming all the way upstairs. What happened?”
“I caught them playing with my computer!”
“Did they hurt it?”
What a stupid question. “I don’t know. What difference does it make. Nobody touches my computer. Nobody!”
“Don’t you think you should check it before you come unglued? Kids are pretty savvy about electronic gadgets these days. Chances are, it’s fine.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It’s exactly the point,” Mitch argued, keeping his voice even, his attitude calm. “I’m going to take the boys upstairs and put them to bed now. Then I’ll come back down here. While I’m gone, I want you to carefully check your files.”
Taking the boys by the hand and turning to go, he paused. “If you expect my children to be drawn and quartered for touching your computer, you’re going to have to prove to me that they’ve actually destroyed it.”
Brianne was playing computer solitaire when Mitch returned.
She glanced at him with a disgusted expression. “Everything’s fine.”
“I thought it would be.”
“No, you hoped it would be. There’s a big difference.”
“I’ll give you that one,” he said, sauntering across the room and perching on the edge of her desk. “If it’s any consolation, Ryan says he’s sorry.”
“So what else is new?”
“Well, at least he’s going to get used to apologizing. I’m sure it’s a skill he’ll need plenty in the years to come.”
“Undoubtedly.” Abandoning her half-finished game, Bree scooted her chair back. “I hope I scared him good.”
“You must have,” Mitch said. “You terrified me. I thought for sure there’d been a murder down here or something.”
Bree smiled. “There almost was.”
“That’s what Bud figured. He was a lot more scared than Ryan. It took me a long time to get him calmed down.”
“Oh, dear.” The smile faded. “I didn’t mean to frighten him like that. I just saw what was going on and reacted instinctively. If anything happens to my computer I’m out of business. Did you explain that to the boys?”
Mitch chuckled under his breath. “Sort of. I think I said something about you being crazy and unstable.”
“Oh, that’s close. Poor little Bud.” Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, she stood and headed for the door. “I’m going up there right now and explain it to him.”
“Okay,” Mitch said, following, “but if he’s already asleep I’d appreciate it if you didn’t wake him. He’s had a pretty rough time the last couple of days.”
“He’s had it rough? What about me?”
“Ok
ay. None of us have had an easy time of it,” he agreed with a weary sigh. “But it’ll all be over soon. After we’re gone, I hope you’ll remember us fondly.”
Remember them? She’d couldn’t have forgotten the Fowlers if she’d tried. Nevertheless, Bree wasn’t about to let herself be drawn into another serious discussion about her personal feelings. No, sir. Especially not when a still, small voice kept insisting that she didn’t really want the road to be repaired. Not soon. Maybe not ever.
Logic told her they couldn’t continue the way they had been for much longer, though. To begin with, she’d soon run out of food. It was amazing how much the four of them had already consumed, even if you didn’t count the meals she’d partially ruined or the leftovers she’d given the dog.
Other staples were in short supply, too. Right after Barney had dined on her cell phone, he’d decided to shred several extra rolls of toilet paper for dessert. Add laundry soap and paper towels to that list, and they’d soon be in dire need.
Climbing the stairs a few steps behind her, Mitch spoke softly, sincerely. “I want you to know, as soon as I get back to town, I’m going to make every effort to let folks know there was nothing funny going on up here.”
“Funny? Like what?”
“You know. Hanky-panky.”
She giggled. “Do people still use that expression?”
“They do around here. And their moral code dates back to the old days, too. Charlie’s bound to mention having seen us together. I don’t want anybody saying or thinking anything bad about you on my account.”
“That’s sweet. But you don’t need to worry about my reputation. I’ve already told you I don’t get out much. By the time I’ve lived here awhile they’ll all be sure I’m some kind of nutty recluse, anyway. Which I am.”
“That could change.” Mitch had closed the distance between them, and his breath ruffled her hair as he spoke.
Barely ahead, Brianne sensed his nearness. Her steps slowed at the top landing.
After what seemed like eons, Mitch finally came closer and wrapped his arms around her. She laid her arms over his and leaned against his strong chest with a sigh.
The quiet hallway wrapped them in the cocoon of its dimness and made Bree feel as if they were the only two people in the world. If only that were so. If only her waking dreams could come true. There was a rightness, a flawlessness in Mitch’s touch, in his nearness. It was the rest of their world that was all wrong.
Tears blurred her already cloudy vision. Closing her eyes, she wished she were the kind of person who could pray, believing her plea would be heard, because this was the perfect time to ask God for a miracle.
Mitch bent to place a kiss on her hair, then whispered, “I’m going to miss you, honey.”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t make herself respond in kind. No matter what she said it would only make matters worse. A solitary tear slid down her cheek and dropped onto his arm before she could catch it.
Once again, he leaned and nuzzled her hair, kissing her ear, her temple, the corner of her eye and finally her cheek. She was crying. For that he blamed himself. He’d pushed her too hard. Too fast. Because he’d managed to fall in love in the space of a few days, he’d made the mistake of believing it could be mutual.
He turned her in his embrace and lifted her chin with one finger so she’d have to look at him. “Ryan isn’t the only one who needs to keep apologizing. I’m sorry, Bree. I wasn’t trying to torment you. I just didn’t want to leave here without telling you how I felt.”
Mitch bent to place a chaste kiss on her trembling, moist lips, then straightened and held her away from him. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
Her silent nod was his answer.
“Good. Then I think I’d better leave you now, before I have to lie to your neighbors about what did or didn’t go on while I was staying with you.” He managed a tenuous smile. “You can talk to the boys in the morning. We’ll all feel a lot better in the daylight.”
She watched him turn and walk away. Standing alone in the long hallway, she realized she’d never felt more isolated, more bereft, in her entire life.
Feel better in the daylight? Her thoughts echoed. Now that would be a miracle.
Chapter Fourteen
The following morning, Brianne accepted Mitch’s offer to help her prepare a second meal of pancakes, but only because their food supplies were getting scarce, and she couldn’t afford to make another error and waste precious ingredients.
They were both in the kitchen, sidling around and trying to work without getting too close to each other, when they heard a rumble in the distance.
She stopped in the midst of setting the table and turned to him. “Is that thunder?”
“No. I don’t think so. It sounds like heavy equipment to me. Maybe Charlie and his crew have started working on that part of the road, like he said they would.”
“Oh.” Bree felt numb. Time was running out.
Ryan came barreling into the kitchen, almost knocking the plates out of her hands. “Dad! Is the road fixed?”
“If it isn’t, it soon will be,” Mitch said. He carefully flipped the hotcakes he’d been tending. “Go get your brother and be sure your hands are clean. Breakfast is almost ready.”
Ryan left the room the same way he’d entered, at a dead run, shouting, “Bud! We get to go home!”
“How long do you think the repairs will take?” Bree purposely avoided eye contact with Mitch so she wouldn’t inadvertently reveal her disappointment.
“There’s no way to tell. Hours, days. It’ll depend on how much clay is in the soil and whether or not they have to truck in a lot of fill dirt and rocks, I suppose. Why?”
“I just wondered.”
“You aren’t going to miss us, are you?”
“Of course not!”
“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.” Mitch knew he’d sensed a lot more emotion in her denial than she’d intended. Still, as long as she kept refusing to consider the prospect that they might be right for each other, there was nothing he could do or say that would change things between them.
Of course, there was also the possibility that he was mistaken, Mitch admitted ruefully. He’d consciously placed his whole life in God’s hands before he’d gotten his boys back. Nothing had happened since then to change that unwavering commitment. Consequently, it made sense to conclude that if the good Lord had wanted him to stay with Brianne long enough to convince her they were compatible, He wouldn’t have let the crew repair the road so quickly.
Mitch huffed in disgust. It was a lot easier to trust the Lord for answers to prayer when he was getting exactly what he’d prayed for, wasn’t it? No kidding! It was also easier when he thought he’d figured out just what God’s aim was in a particular situation. In this case, he didn’t have a clue, unless…Unless he was supposed to be helping Brianne instead of the other way around!
Looking at the present dilemma in that light gave him a broader scope of ideas. As folks said, it isn’t over till it’s over. Therefore…
“Once the road is passable, would you mind driving us down to Serenity?” Mitch asked.
“What about your car?” She sounded disconcerted. “You can’t just abandon it.”
“I figured to get a few friends to help me. We can come back later and use my work truck to pull the car out.”
“Oh.” Bree didn’t think her raw emotions could withstand the stress of a prolonged drive to town with Mitch Fowler seated next to her, yet she saw no graceful way to refuse. “Well, I suppose I can drive you. That is, providing the road is good and solid. I don’t want to get my car stuck, too.”
He flashed her a winning smile. “If we get stranded we can always hike back up here like we did before.”
“No way. I’ve tromped around in enough mud to last me the rest of my life, thank you.”
“Speaking of mud, I noticed that the creek below the spring is running normally again. You don’t intend to rebuild
your lake, do you?”
“Not a chance,” she said quickly. “If I want fresh fish I’ll buy it in the market.”
“You like to fish?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised. Fishing was fun the few times I tried it. I figured, if I stocked the pond well, it would be a good source of natural food.”
Mitch laughed at her naiveté. “Have you ever cleaned a fish?”
“No. So what? How hard can it be?”
“That’s not the point,” he said, continuing to chuckle. “Trust me. It’s way too messy for you.”
His smart-alecky attitude and the strain of knowing he’d soon be out of her life for good coupled to make her unduly short-tempered. “When are you going to stop assuming I’m some kind of obsessive cleanliness nut? Just because I don’t happen to be a slob doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”
“You’re right,” he said sagely. “There’s not a thing wrong with liking nice things. Or with getting dressed up to go to town occasionally. Take Sunday mornings, for instance. I’ll bet you’d feel a lot better about me if I showed up in a suit and tie when I picked you up for church.”
Brianne crinkled her brow, stared at him. “What are you talking about? I never said I was going to church with you.”
“No, but it’s safe. And public. And it will certainly help your reputation if you let me introduce you to the folks in town that way.”
“I told you. I’m not worried about my reputation. I don’t want to meet a lot of new people. I like my solitude. I need to preserve it in order to work, remember?”
“So you said. What happens when you run out of ideas? Where do you go to recharge your batteries, so to speak?”
He had a point. Though books and movies were good as far as they went, it was more intellectually stimulating to interact with real people. Still, she wasn’t keen on going to church with him. There was something awfully personal about it.
Blessings of the Heart and Samantha's Gift Page 13
