Blessings of The Heart. Valerie Hansen

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СКАЧАТЬ his children running rampant all over the hills, whooping and hollering and disturbing the otherwise perfect solitude she’d created in which to work.

      “I have two sons,” Mitch said.

      “Congratulations.” There was an embarrassing pause before she went on. “I can’t imagine coping with any children, let alone boys.”

      “It isn’t easy.” Mitch bent to fill the bucket, not looking at her as he spoke. “Especially alone.”

      Curiosity got the better of her. “Oh? Are you divorced?”

      “No.” Mitch straightened, his expression guarded. “My wife died recently.”

      Open mouth, insert foot, chew thoroughly. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”

      The hint of a smile lifted one corner of his strong mouth. “It’s no secret that I’m single, if that’s what you want to know. And I’m not grieving. Liz and I had separated long before her accident. I hadn’t seen her in ages.”

      “Then what about—?” Brianne broke off and cast a telling glance down the wooded slope in the direction of his cabin. No more questions. She’d already said enough dumb things for one day.

      Mitch, however, supplied the answer to her unspoken query. “Liz took the boys away with her when she left me. It took almost three years to track them down.”

      The poignancy of his situation touched her heart.

      “What an awful thing to go through.”

      “Yeah, no kidding. I’ve got my work cut out for me now, that’s for sure, which is why I’d better get a move on. Even kids who are used to living by strict rules can get into trouble, and mine haven’t had much discipline lately. Ryan—he’s eight—says he’s used to looking after his younger brother, but that doesn’t mean they won’t both be swinging from the chandeliers by the time I get home.”

      She was incredulous. “Wait a minute. You have no water—but you have chandeliers in your cabin?”

      “No, ma’am.” Mitch chuckled. “That was just a figure of speech.” Glancing toward the mansion, he added, “I think you’ve been surrounded by luxury too long. You’re out of touch with how the rest of the world lives.”

      She sighed. “I suppose you could be right. I find this whole area very confusing. There aren’t any neighborhoods like I’m used to back home. People just seem to build whatever kind of house they want, wherever they want it, no matter what the places next door look like.” Realizing how that comment had sounded, she pulled a face. “Sorry. No offense meant.”

      “Don’t worry about it. You can’t help it if you have more money than good sense.” He followed his comment with a smile so she’d realize he’d been joking.

      “Hey, I’m not that wealthy.”

      Mitch’s smile grew. “Good. Maybe there’s hope for you yet. Are you famous? Maybe I’ve read something you wrote.”

      Delayed reaction but predictable questions? “I doubt that. I write women’s fiction. And I didn’t get rich doing it. My father passed away several years ago, and I inherited a bundle. After that, I left Pennsylvania and moved down here to Arkansas to get away from the sad memories.”

      Mitch hefted the heavy bucket with ease and started toward the edge of the lawn where the forest began. “Can’t run from those,” he said wisely. “I ought to know. No matter where you go, your past goes with you, mistakes and all.”

      A jolt of uneasiness hit her as she fell into step beside him. “I hope you’re wrong.”

      “Not about that. Experience is a great teacher,” he said soberly. “Well, nice to have met you, Ms. Bailey, and thanks for the water. If you ever feel like slumming, just follow this streambed about half a mile. You’ll find us at the bottom of the draw.” He smiled. “Bye. Gotta go.”

      She raised her hand tentatively in reply. She’d have done more, but a flock of butterflies had just launched themselves en masse at the sight of his dynamic parting grin, and she was busy wondering if his last glimpse of her was going to feature her keeling over in a dead faint. The notion wasn’t very appealing.

      “Phooey. I don’t swoon,” Bree whispered, wresting control of her body from her topsy-turvy emotions. “I’m just a little woozy from the heat and humidity, that’s all. I’ve never fainted and I never will.”

      Besides, that poor man is saddled with two little kids, she added, silently reinforcing her growing conviction that Mitch was anything but appealing. Children. Eesh! And the oldest was only eight! What a nightmare!

      Bree shivered. As far as she was concerned, the man might as well have confessed to being in league with the devil himself!

      By the time Mitch got to his cabin, he’d managed to spill half the contents of the bucket. Considering the rough, overgrown terrain he’d had to cover on his trek down the hill he was surprised to have salvaged that much.

      As he approached the cabin, he could hear shouts and squeals of laughter. That might not be a good sign but at least it proved the boys hadn’t mutinied and wandered off in his absence.

      The minute he pushed open the door, his children froze in mid-motion, looking as if they were sure they were guilty of some awful crime and expected him to mete out immediate punishment.

      Instead, Mitch set the bucket down and paused to assess the mayhem. Ryan had pulled the narrow end of a flat sheet over his shoulders and tied the corners so the fabric draped behind him like a long cape. Bud had apparently been trying to sit on the part that dragged the floor while his big brother pulled him around the room. Bud’s raggedy old teddy bear was perched on the sidelines like an audience at a sporting event.

      Judging by the swirls of dust on the wooden flooring and the boys’ grubby faces and hands, they’d been playing their little game for some time. Their expressions were priceless!

      Mitch wanted desperately to laugh. They were just typical kids having a good time. He wasn’t about to play the ogre and spoil their fun.

      He pointed. “You missed a couple of places.”

      “Huh?” Ryan frowned.

      “That’s an ingenious way to sweep the floor but it doesn’t do the corners very well. I suggest we use a mop for those.”

      “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 СКАЧАТЬ