Blessings of the Heart and Samantha's Gift (2 page)

“Uh, okay.”

Mitch could tell the boy’s mind was working, struggling to comprehend Mitch’s surprising parental reaction. Finally, Ryan’s thin shoulders relaxed, and he untied his makeshift cape.

“Little kids get bored real easy,” the eight-year-old said. “You have to keep ’em busy or they get into trouble.”

“I can see that.”

For an instant Mitch glimpsed the child behind his eldest son’s tough-guy facade. It couldn’t have been easy for Ryan to act as a pseudo parent while his flaky mother, Liz, ran around doing as she pleased. There was no telling how often she’d gone off on a tangent and left the boys alone much longer than she’d originally intended. Still, that lack of responsibility on her part may have been a blessing in disguise because it had led to them not being with her when she’d had the horrible accident that had taken her life.

“I may need you to help me understand your brother,” Mitch said. “Especially since I haven’t seen either of you for such a long time. I’m not used to having kids around. I’ve really missed you guys.”

“Then why didn’t you come get us?”

Ah, so that was what was eating at Ryan. “Because I didn’t know where your mother had taken you,” Mitch explained. “Even the police couldn’t find you. I spent every cent I could lay my hands on to hire private detectives. I’ll say this for your mom, she hides really good.”

“We moved a lot,” the boy replied, eyes downcast.

“It’s okay. I won’t bug you about it,” Mitch promised. “But if you ever do decide you want to talk about anything that happened while you were gone, I’m willing to listen, okay?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Mitch would have pursued the subject if there hadn’t been a strange scratching noise at the door. He immediately assumed it was a marauding raccoon or possum, but before he had time to warn the boys, Bud had run to the door and thrown it wide open.

“Don’t!”

Mitch started to shout, then stopped, startled, when he realized their visitor was a puppy. At least he thought it was. There was so much mud and so many leaves and twigs stuck in its dull brown coat that its age wasn’t the only thing in question.

Mitch’s protective instincts came to the fore. “Close the door. You don’t know where that thing has been. It could be sick.”

The advice came too late. Bud was already on his knees beside the pitiful little dog, and Ryan was patting it on the head while it shook and whimpered. Whether Mitch approved or not, it looked like his boys had themselves a pet.

He strode quickly to the doorway and scooped up the skinny pup so he could look it over. Poor thing. He could feel every one of its ribs beneath the matted fur. Chances were good it was covered with fleas, too. If any stray ever needed a home, this one sure did.

“Okay. First things first,” he said firmly. “Ryan, you grab a rag and wipe down all the furniture with clean water from the bucket. Bud, you help him. And do a good job of it, guys, because you’ll only get one chance. As soon as you’re done we’re going to use the rest of the wash water to give this dog a bath.”

Hearing the boys’ mutual intake of breath he added, “That is, if you want it to live inside with us. Of course, if you don’t…”

“We do!” Ryan shouted. Grabbing Bud by the hand, he hurried him off with a breathless command, “Come on,” leaving Mitch and the dog behind.

“You guys found him. What do you want to name him?” Mitch called after them.

Bud grabbed Ryan’s arm and leaned close to whisper in his ear.

Ryan nodded sagely. “Barney.”

Bud agreed, “Yeah!”

At the shrill sound of their voices the little dog’s trembling increased. Mitch felt so sorry for it, he held it closer in spite of its dirty coat. “Shush. You’re scaring him.”

They immediately quieted down, looking at their father with awe. In their eyes, he had apparently become an instant expert on dogs.

Soberly, Mitch gazed at the skinny, quivering ball of filthy fur he was cradling in his arms, hoping with all his heart that he’d be wise enough, caring enough, to salvage all three of the neglected waifs he was now responsible for.

W
ith darkness came a midsummer thunderstorm. Mitch figured out how hard it was raining by listening to the torrent pounding against the peaked tin roof and running off the steep slope to fall in a solid sheet of water along both sides.

Before long, he felt a drop hit him on the head. It didn’t startle him because he was already wide awake. As soon as the thunder and lightning had started, Bud had climbed into his bed with him, stuffed bear and all. That wasn’t so bad until a wide-eyed Ryan showed up carrying a battery-powered lantern and their new dog.

“Barney is scared, too,” the eight-year-old said. “Can we get in bed with you?”

“Sure.” Mitch scooted over as far as he could to make room and promptly fell off the narrow mattress onto the floor with a thump and an ouch.

That brought giggles from the boys.

“Tell you what,” he said, raising himself up to peer over the edge of the bed, “how about we put a couple of these beds together to make one bigger one? Then we can all sleep close without pushing your poor daddy onto the floor.”

No one answered. Mitch got to his feet and took charge. “Okay. Everybody out. The roof is leaking over here, and I don’t know how much worse the rain will get, so the first thing we’re going to do is move my bed to a drier place.” He motioned. “Ryan, you push the foot of the bed in that direction. I’ll get the end with the headboard.”

“I have to go potty,” Bud announced.

“In a minute,” Mitch promised. “Right now we’re getting Daddy’s bed out of the way so it won’t get wet.”

Ryan shot him a knowing look. “That’s not the only thing that’ll be wet if you don’t take him to the bathroom. When he says he has to go, he has to go.”

“Okay, okay.”

It suddenly occurred to Mitch that the facilities were outside and it was pouring. He glanced at Ryan. The boy was sporting a sly grin.

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.”