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.”
Ryan drew up beside his father and whistled. “Whoa. Cool. Why didn’t you bring us here in the first place?”
“Look, the only reason we’re here tonight is because we need shelter and a dry place to sleep,” Mitch explained. “In the morning we’ll head back down to the cabin and see what kind of shape it’s in.”
“Bummer.”
“Get over it.” Mitch stood. “Come on, fellas. I don’t know about you, but I’m freezing. Grab the dog and let’s go.”
Chapter Three
B rianne was still sitting in the kitchen when she thought she heard a knock on the front door. Chalking it up to her imagination, she didn’t move. As isolated as the house was, she hardly ever had company, even on a nice day. On a wretched night like this it was unheard of.
A second knock made her jump. “Who in the world can that be?” There was only one way to find out—answer the door. But what if it was a burglar?
“A burglar wouldn’t knock,” she countered, chuckling softly. Just in case, however, she’d leave the chain fastened till she saw who it was. Too bad she didn’t have a baseball bat handy.
“Sure, then if it is a burglar I can ask him if he wants to play a few innings?” Bree taunted herself.
She was still smiling at the amusing idea as she unlocked the front door and opened it far enough to see if she really did have callers.
Oh, my! She certainly did! Not only was Mitch Fowler standing on her porch big as life—he had two dripping wet children at his side. The pose reminded her of a mother hen corralling her chicks to shelter them beneath her wings. How adorable!
Brianne quickly undid the chain and threw the door wide. “You look awful. Get in here where it’s dry.”
“You sure?”
“Of course!”
“Thanks. We got flooded out, and I didn’t know where else to go. The kids are pretty cold.”
Ushering his boys through the door without delay, he ran his hands over his wet hair to smooth it back, apparently trying to make himself presentable.
Bree thought he looked absolutely endearing. The tender way he was hovering over his children touched her heart and created a never-to-be-forgotten picture of true parenting. When she was little she would have given anything to see that kind of love in her father’s expression. The thought brought a melancholy smile.
Mitch’s glance met hers and lingered. “I hate to be a bother. Have you got a couple of extra blankets we could borrow? And maybe some spare towels?”
“Of course.” Blushing and pulling her cotton robe around her more tightly, she said, “Stay right where you are. Don’t move. I’ll go get them.”
She frowned momentarily at the water puddling on her shiny marble foyer floor, then hurried down the hall. In moments she was back and handing out towels. “Here. These will get you started.”
“Thanks. I’m really sorry about this, Ms. Bailey. I hadn’t intended to bother you again.”
“Please, call me Bree.”
“Bree? Okay. This is Ryan.” Mitch laid a hand on the boy’s thin shoulder, then touched his sibling in turn. “And this is Bud. The little furry one Ryan’s holding is named Barney. He’s new to our family.”
“How—sweet.” Though the whole group was dripping, the dog was definitely the dirtiest. Clearly, she wasn’t going to be able to dry off her guests and then send them packing. Therefore, they’d have to make other arrangements. Ones that would keep the current mess confined to a small area.
“I guess I should see what I can find for the boys to wear until their clothes and shoes are dry. As for you…” A blush warmed her cheeks when she scanned Mitch’s full height. “You’re much bigger than I am. I’m afraid you’ll have to rough it.”
“No problem—as long as my kids are okay. We really appreciate your hospitality, ma’am. We’ll be out of here as soon as possible.”
Bree shivered. The whole idea of having them stay, even temporarily, was so unsettling it made her insides tremble as she doled out more fluffy bath towels. And to think she’d just been yearning for some company because of the storm! What a stupid idea. Being lonesome was starting to look better by the minute.
Mitch’s hand accidentally brushed hers when he accepted the last towel. Startled, she pulled back and folded her arms across her chest in a defensive posture.
He gave her a concerned look. “You okay?”
“Storms make me nervous,” she replied.
“Not me. At least not until the one tonight. I’ve never seen that creek by Eldon’s rise so high or move so fast. I was afraid it might take out the whole cabin.”
