Blessings of the Heart and Samantha's Gift by Valerie Hansen Page B

make you feel secure. It must be rough coming to live with your daddy after such a long time.”
    “It’s okay,” Ryan muttered, shrugging as he spoke. “Not like we had a choice or anything.”
    “I don’t think your father did, either,” Bree reminded him.
    The boy made a guttural sound of disgust. “He didn’t have to sell our house and make us live in a dump.”
    “You mean in the cabin?”
    “Yeah. It doesn’t even have a bathroom.”
    “Well, then, maybe it was for the best that you had problems last night. I’ll bet there’s something better waiting for you.”
    “Right.”
    She couldn’t have missed the boy’s sarcasm if she’d been blindfolded and wearing earplugs. “Sounds like you don’t think so. Why not?”
    “’Cause Dad spent all his money lookin’ for us.”
    “How do you know?”
    “He said so.”
    Brianne’s stomach knotted. That was exactly the kind of dire economic situation she’d feared Mitch Fowler was in. The probable loss of his cabin and its contents was the final straw. If anybody ever needed financial aid, he did. The hardest part would be convincing him to accept it. As soon as he came back for the boys, she planned to have a serious talk with him.
    Barney started barking, then ran and hid behind Ryan. Bree attributed the dog’s nervousness to distant thunder, but in seconds the real reason was clear.
    Soaking wet, Mitch lunged out of the forest, made a noise like a bear suffering a migraine and threw down an armload of muddy supplies. His face was even redder than it had been the first time Bree had seen him, meaning he was either totally spent from his hard climb or he was even more furious than before. Both theories were plausible. Either was likely.
    Ordering the children to stay put, Brianne jogged across the wet lawn to speak with him privately.
    “I’m glad you’re back. The kids were getting bored. I’m surprised you made the trip so fast.”
    “It wasn’t hard.” Scowling, he wiped his muddy hands on his jeans and eyed the meager pile of belongings he’d brought up the hill. “See that? That’s all there is left. I was lucky to salvage that much.”
    “Was there a lot of water damage to your cabin?”
    “What cabin?”
    “It’s gone?” Until then, Bree had refused to let herself consider total destruction.
    “Along with everything except what you see in front of you. Looks like a couple of big trees washed down the canyon and pushed the cabin off its foundation. After that, there was no way it could withstand the flood.”
    “It’s all my fault. I’m so very sorry.”
    The intensity of the rain was increasing, and she paused to wipe her face with her hands and push her wet bangs out of her eyes. When she looked at Mitch he was bending over, picking up a handful of rags.
    “We should get inside. Want me to help you carry that stuff?” she asked.
    “No. I’ll handle it. I’m already dirty, and you’re not. But you’re right about going back to the house. I’ve been hearing thunder in the distance. The way my luck’s been running lately I’ll probably be struck by lightning if I stay out here.”
    If he could make jokes in the midst of such a hopeless situation, he was probably not as angry as she’d thought. That was a good sign. It meant he’d be in a better frame of mind to accept the aid she planned to offer.
    She led the way toward the overhang where the Fowler boys waited. Ryan had picked up the raggedy dog and had taken charge of his brother, too. All were present and accounted for. Even Bud’s bear.
    Rather than go inside through the French doors by the patio and track mud into her library, Brianne circled to the rear of the house and stopped at the kitchen.
    “Leave your wet shoes out here by the door and give your daddy the dog,” she told the boys. “You can go turn the television on again if you want, just be sure you stick to watching kid shows.”
    As soon as she was sure they were following her orders she glanced