Blessings of The Heart

“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.

Chapter Two

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.”