“That you know of,” she said, holding out her hand. “Give it to me. Let me look.”
Mitch obliged. “See? I told you. No real damage.”
“Oh?” Bree said sarcastically. “Then maybe you’d like to tell me how to make this thing work without an antenna.”
He mumbled under his breath, then set his jaw. “Okay. Don’t panic. That can’t be our only option. What else have you got?”
“Nothing. Just the normal telephone on the desk.”
“I don’t believe it! A first-class place like this, and you don’t have a satellite connection?”
“Hey, don’t yell at me. I never needed anything else until you showed up.”
“What if you had a real emergency up here? What would you do then, hike down the mountain yourself to bring help?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He regarded her with derision. “I’ll bet you don’t even have any hiking boots, do you?”
“I do so. I’ve worn them once, too.”
“Wow. I’m impressed. How did you manage to do that without getting them dirty?”
“You don’t have to be sarcastic. If you must know, I didn’t leave the yard. I wouldn’t have bought boots in the first place if Emma hadn’t insisted I needed them to keep from being bitten by snakes.”
“Not during the winter. Only at this time of the year,” Mitch said. “You know, you really should get out more. Walk through the woods. Enjoy God’s country. You miss the real beauty of this area by not exploring the wilds. In the spring and summer you can spot new varieties of wildflowers every week. Some of them are so tiny you’d miss them if you weren’t watching where you stepped.”
“Meaning, I need to stop and smell the roses?”
“Something like that.”
“Point taken.” Bree looked from Mitch to the ruined phone and back again. “Well, what’s Plan B? Do we just sit here and stare at each other while we wait for rescue or is there something we can do to help ourselves?”
“I’m still willing to walk down the road as far as I can and check out the damage. If I can work my way around the washed-out places on foot, I’ll come back for the boys, and we’ll try to make it to the highway.”
“And then what?” Bree asked. “Hitchhike? That’s a dumb idea under the best of circumstances. You’re not going to put those poor little kids in danger like that. I won’t let you.”
Mitch’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, well. How come you’re suddenly being so protective?”
“Survival instinct, I guess. I may not be mother material but I’m not stupid. It’s miles to the highway. Assuming it’s open at all, what makes you think you’d catch a ride easily? And suppose you slipped and were injured trying to navigate the washed-out parts of the dirt roads on the way? Who would take care of your boys and lead them to safety then?”
“When you’re right, you’re right.” He gave her a wry smile and nodded for emphasis. “In that case, what do you suggest I do to keep the kids occupied? They won’t be happy just sitting and staring at cartoons for a whole day. They’ll get restless.”
“So, take them outside and play hide-and-seek.”
“No way. Even if it wasn’t drizzling out there, all I’d need is for one of them to leave the yard and get himself lost in the woods. And don’t forget the snakes. Copperheads can be especially nasty.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she anticipated his thoughts. “Oh, no. You aren’t suggesting they play in the house, are you? Of all the idiotic notions!”
“Not a fast game like hide-and-seek,” Mitch said. “Do you happen to have any crayons?”
“I have markers.”
“No way. Too permanent. Your rugs would never survive if we let them use ink.”
He brightened. “How about a treasure hunt? You could set the rules, pick which rooms they’re allowed to look in, stuff like that. And we could each supervise one hunter to keep him out of trouble. How about it?”
“Well… I suppose that might be all right, providing we watched them carefully.” Bree figured she must be getting bored, too, because she was beginning to warm to his crazy idea. “You could pick something to hide, tell me where it is, and then I could use the markers to draw a map for the kids to follow. I’ve always been good at art.”
Mitch grinned. It was nice to see the wealthy woman loosening up a little. A change in her neat-freak attitude would be a welcome relief. And the boys definitely did need something to do. They hadn’t caused much trouble so far, but it was only a matter of time until their bottled-up energy bubbled over and got out of hand. Like the dog’s had.
“I have a good idea,” he said. “Let’s hide a little bag of cookies so they’ll have a real reward when they find their treasure.”
“Great!” Brianne eyed the dog in his arms. “Go get rid of that monster and meet me in the kitchen. I’ll find you a sandwich bag to put the cookies in. Emma made a big batch of peanut butter and raisin the last time she was here.”
Following her directions and rejoining her took Mitch only a few minutes. “Okay. Ready,” he said.
“Good.” She handed him a small plastic bag and pointed to the cookie jar. “Go for it.”
Smiling, he took the bag and filled it, then held it up for inspection. “Okay. Now what? Where do you want me to hide these?”
“I don’t know. Someplace easy to get to but hard to see. And low to the ground. We don’t want the kids climbing all over the furniture.”
He hesitated. “Now that I think about it, this may not be such a good idea, after all. You sure you want to go ahead with it?”
Being totally honest, Bree had to admit the game sounded like a welcome diversion. “Of course I do. You and I will be right there. What can go wrong?”
He shot her a lopsided grin, his dark eyes twinkling.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing. I was just picturing you saying the same kind of thing about your pond before it went south and wiped me out.”
Bree made a face at him. “All the more reason for me to make you and your children feel welcome here. Now go stash those cookies and come tell me where you put them so I can get started on the treasure maps. And hurry up, before I have time to change my mind.”
Chapter Seven
From her sanctuary in the kitchen, Brianne was putting the finishing touches to her homemade maps when she heard squeals of glee followed by the light slap of small bare feet in the tiled hallway. Ryan burst into the kitchen with Bud on his heels. There was something contagious about his eager, expectant expression.
“Okay, fellas,” she said, smiling and holding out two sheets of paper. “Here are your treasure maps. To be fair to Bud, I drew pictures so you wouldn’t have to read any words.”
She bent over and pointed. “See? This is where we are now. And here at the big X is where you’ll find your cookies. Are you ready?”
Both boys nodded soberly.
“Okay, then. Your daddy will go with Ryan, and I’ll help Bud in case he gets lost. Let’s go.”
Ryan was out of the room like a shot. Holding the teddy bear by an ear, Bud clutched his map in his other hand and gave Bree a look that was half adoration, half heartfelt plea.
She smiled at him. “How about letting me carry your bear for you so you’ll have one hand free? We’ll be right here with you. Promise.”
To her delight, the shy child hesitated only an instant before passing her the precious stuffed toy. Touched by his show of trust, she cradled the teddy as if it were a real baby.
“I think we should go this way,” she told him quietly, pointing first to the map, then to the hallway. “I know a shortcut.”
Mitch wasn’t as personally involved in Ryan’s quest as Brianne was in Bud’s, so he kept his distance and let the boy work out the puzzle alone. All he was concerned about was being in the right place at the right time to keep his excited son from wrecking the place during his search.
Standing back and observin
g, Mitch let his mind ramble through memories of the past few hours. The more he learned about their hostess’s background, the more he could sympathize with her desire to protect her expensive possessions. It couldn’t have been easy being a teenager without a mother and being raised by the kind of father she’d described. Thank God his childhood had normalized once he’d come to live with Uncle Eldon and Aunt Vi. It was his adulthood that had turned out disappointing.
No, that wasn’t entirely right, he argued. He had great kids. They were both his past and his future, a future he could honestly look forward to. Perhaps that was what had led him to embrace Bree when he’d learned of her loneliness. All the money in the world couldn’t take the place of somebody who cared.
Mitch was so preoccupied he barely noticed Ryan entering the dining room. What did catch his attention, however, was the sight of Barney bounding along beside him.
“Hey! Who let that dog out again?”
“He’s helping me,” Ryan said brightly. “Dogs can find anything. Especially cookies.”
“He’s done enough damage for one day. Put him back in the bathroom,” Mitch ordered. “Right now.”
“Aw, Dad…”
“Now!” Mitch’s voice was gruff.
“But, Dad—”
“Now!”
The commotion seemed to give the little dog an added boost of adrenaline. Barking and leaping, he ran around and around the dining room table with Ryan in hot pursuit.
Mitch made a lunge as they passed, missing them both. Suddenly, the little dog slowed, sniffed, then put his shiny black nose to the ground and made a beeline for the rear of the china cabinet.
Uh-oh. Instinct told Mitch to move closer. He was circling the dining table when Barney gave a yap and dived into the narrow space behind the cabinet.
The little dog would have been fine if he’d been able to grab the sack of cookies and continue out the opposite side. Unfortunately, he got stuck, panicked and began howling in misery and fright. The shrill sound reminded Mitch of a cross between a pack of lonesome coyotes and an ambulance siren.
“I’ll get him,” Ryan shouted.
Mitch yelled, “No!”
The boy ignored him.
After that, things went to pieces so rapidly it was impossible to tell exactly what sequence the events took. All Mitch knew for sure was that the heavy cabinet started to teeter. He put up his hand to steady it, assuming that Ryan would realize what was wrong and stop trying to rescue the dog single-handedly. He didn’t.
In the background, Brianne screamed and dropped the stuffed bear.
Mitch raised both hands to stop the cabinet’s forward fall, realizing too late that its contents were sliding toward him with nothing to stop their descent but two narrow door frames containing panes of glass.
He barely had time to worry about breaking glass before he noticed the doors weren’t fastened closed.
Bree lunged beneath him, slapped the flat of her hands against the loose doors and banged them shut. The clatter was awful. When the edges of the sliding china met the glass, it sounded like everything had shattered.
The front feet of the cabinet shifted toward the wall, then stopped abruptly.
Mitch stood there, breathing hard and waiting to see what else could possibly go wrong.
When nothing moved he took a deep breath, let his temper have its way and roared, “Ryan!”
Adding to the chaos, Bud had decided to hide under the mahogany dining table. He was clutching his rescued bear and weeping inconsolably while Barney dashed circles around everyone, yapping as if he was certain they were all in danger.
Bree could hear Ryan cursing. She could only make out snatches of what Mitch was muttering in reply, but the few words she could discern were colorful enough to remind her of her father in the midst of one of his infamous tirades.
Clearly, Bree was the only one with enough remaining self-control to make sensible decisions. No one seemed to be listening to anything she said, however, so she gave up trying to talk, pursed her lips and whistled.
The shrill sound echoed off the walls and high ceiling and had an even greater effect than she’d hoped. Everyone froze, staring at her as if she’d suddenly become someone else.
“I learned how to do that at camp,” she said, immediately taking charge. “Okay. Kids, get over there away from the glass. Ryan, you grab that dog and take him, too. Mitch, hang in there.”
He made a disgusted sound. “No kidding. Where could I go?”
“Good point.” Trapped in the narrow space between the man and the glass doors, Bree had a similar problem. She’d created a human sandwich, with Mitch and the cabinet as the bread and herself as the filling. If she hadn’t been so worried about saving her precious china, she would never have put herself in such a tenuous position.
“Okay,” Bree said. “Get ready. We push on the count of three. One…”
Mitch interrupted. “Wait. That won’t work. The front of the cabinet slid closer to the wall when it started to tip over. There’s not enough room left between it and the wall to stand it back up. I tried.”
“Well, we’re going to get pretty tired of holding it like this. If we need to drag it farther away from the baseboard, let’s do it.”
“Can’t. There’s not enough room to back up. We’re too close to the table.”
“Okay, smarty. What would you suggest?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do.” She glanced over her shoulder at the children. “Ryan, do you think you and Bud can move the chairs away and pull the big table in your direction? It should slide pretty easily on this rug.”
When there was no answer from the boys, their father turned his head far enough to peer at them. “Well? You heard her. Give it a try. I’ll shove with my legs from this side.”
Ryan said, “Yes sir,” and tucked Barney into the front of his baggy shirt. Bud did the same with his precious teddy bear.
As soon as they were in position at the far end of the table, Mitch called, “Now!” and began straining to help.
The table stuck at first, then let go and slid toward the boys about a foot before stopping.
Mitch sounded out of breath. “Oof! I hope that’s enough.”
“It’ll have to be,” Bree said. “I can’t hold these doors closed much longer.” She was losing patience with everyone, including herself. “It’s going all the way up this time. One, two, three, push!”
The cabinet passed its center of balance on their initial effort, paused for an instant, then got away from them and slammed against the dining room wall before anyone could stop it.
Bree’s breath caught. She was afraid to assess the damage closely for fear it would be worse than she’d imagined. Even though fine porcelain china was more durable than it looked, it could only stand so much rough handling.
Cautious, ready to react again if necessary, Mitch slowly stepped away, his hands raised. “I’m really sorry. The boys and I will replace anything that’s broken.”
With what? Bree wanted to scream. Do you have any idea how much a place setting of Limoges costs? “Would you like to tell me what happened in here?”
“It was Barney’s fault,” Ryan said.
A stern look from his father ended his supposed helpfulness while Mitch explained. “It did all start when Ryan let the dog out again. I told you where I was going to hide the cookies. Neither one of us dreamed anything could tip over a piece of furniture that heavy.”
“Barney knocked it over?”
“Not exactly. He figured out where the cookies were and decided to go after them. Only he got stuck. Ryan tried to wedge himself behind there to save him. I saw the thing start to fall forward. At that point, the only thing I could do was try to stop it from crashing into the table and doing even more damage. That’s when you came in.”
“Terrific. Why weren’t you watching Ryan like you were supposed to be?”
“I was. Things just went to pieces too fast.”
&
nbsp; “Pieces?” She eyed the mess inside her china cabinet. “You can say that again.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“I know. It’s as much my fault as yours, I suppose. I should have known better. Okay. Everybody out. Leave. I can take care of this by myself.”
“Let me help,” Mitch offered.
“No way. You’ve helped enough.”
He didn’t argue. He escorted his children out of the room by shooing them like a gaggle of geese. Ryan was silent, but Bud punctuated their departure with shuddering breaths.
Finally alone, Bree slowly and cautiously eased open the glass doors to the cabinet. Stacks of dinner and salad plates had slid forward as a unit. So had most of the saucers. The cups and serving dishes, however, were piled haphazardly wherever they’d landed. Some were broken.
Bree picked up a chipped cup and carefully turned it in her hands. The graceful, translucent shape was perfectly accentuated by its hand-painted floral design. This was the kind of delicate ceramic beauty her mother had treasured. The poor woman had always wept whenever a piece from her collection was broken. Brianne remembered her father purposely smashing her mother’s favorite pieces, then laughing at the emotional trauma he’d caused.
After her mother’s death, Bree had tried to preserve some of the woman’s fragile treasures, but her father had found out where she’d hidden them and had hurled them against a wall, one by one, until there were none left.
That was when Bree had made up her mind that she’d never let anyone else rob her of the things she loved. Nor would she ever bring children into a world that could be so cruel. People might disappoint you, leave you, abuse you, but beautiful objects that were loved and well cared for remained unchanged. Predictable.
Sadly noting the cup’s cracked handle, she sighed. She’d made it her life’s work to protect those treasures that had been placed in her care. It was her way of showing appreciation for the gifts she’d been given, of upholding fond memories of her mother in spite of everything.
Nothing had happened since her unhappy childhood to change her mind about that one iota.
“So, what’s the verdict?” Mitch had approached so quietly his question made Brianne jump.
Blessings of the Heart Page 7