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

small fists and staring at the adults with bewildered expressions.
    “Maybe we’d better get clean plates for their potatoes,” Bree said, reaching into the cupboard. “Will that be enough supper? All they had for lunch was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
    “It’ll be fine. Put gobs of cheese on his food and any kid will be satisfied,” he said. “They could live on the stuff. That, and peanut butter.”
    Bree winked at Mitch. “Peanut butter on baked potatoes? Yuck.”
    “Hey,” he said, “if I had the choice of another helping of your special chicken or a peanut butter flavored spud, I wouldn’t have any trouble choosing.”
    “You’d pick the potato?”
    “Oh, yeah.” He nodded solemnly. “No contest.”
     
    Mitch had his children bathed and in bed by nine. Ryan was the only one who had argued, and even he had started to doze off almost immediately.
    As soon as Mitch was sure they were both sleeping soundly he went downstairs. He’d convinced himself that he was merely looking for something with which to make a list of the items he’d need to replace or repair.
    Pen and paper he found easily. When he continued to wander through the downstairs rooms, he was forced to admit he also wanted to see Brianne.
    Noticing a light in the library, he headed in that direction. Bookshelves blanketed three walls. On the fourth, French doors opened onto the covered terrace where Bree had taken the children when they’d been caught in the rain while playing outside.
    Could that really have been less than twenty-four hours ago? Mitch marveled. How time flew when you were having fun!
    The heavy library door was ajar. He cautiously gave it a push, and it glided open effortlessly, quietly. Mitch smiled as Brianne looked up. “Hi. Mind if I join you?”
    “No. Not at all.”
    She was seated on one end of a leather sofa, her feet bare, one leg tucked partially beneath her. She closed the book she’d been reading and laid it aside, then leaned out to peer past him. “Are you alone?”
    “Yes. Even Barney’s sleeping, thank goodness.”
    As Bree watched the tall man saunter across the room, she got goose bumps wondering if he was going to join her on the couch. When he chose to sit in a chair, she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Given the choice, she opted for disappointed.
    Mitch leaned back, stretched his legs out in front of him with his ankles crossed and sighed. “Boy, what a day this has been. I’m beat.”
    “I know what you mean.”
    “So, what were you reading? A cookbook?”
    “Very funny. Actually, I don’t own a cookbook—which was part of my problem tonight. This book is a mystery.” Come to think of it, so is cooking, she thought.
    “Ah. Is that the kind of book you write?” he asked.
    “Not exactly. My stories are mostly romantic, although I do occasionally work in an element of suspense.”
    “Love stories? You write love stories?”
    “You don’t have to sound so shocked.”
    “I didn’t mean anything by it,” Mitch assured her. “I’m sure the folks who write science fiction haven’t been to outer space, either.” The moment the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. “I mean…I didn’t mean…” He began to mutter to himself and shake his head.
    “I’m not that naive, Mr. Fowler.”
    “I’m sure you’re not.” Flustered, he realized he’d insulted her again.
    The absurd look on his face made Bree laugh. “I think you’re bumfuzzled.”
    “I’m what?”
    “It’s one of Emma’s favorite expressions. Near as I can tell, it means something between frazzled and confused.”
    “Sounds about right. Think I should go out and come in again so we can start this conversation over?”
    “That won’t be necessary.” She eyed the paper in his hand. “What are you doing?”
    “Making a list. I want you to tell me exactly what was broken.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I intend to replace the busted pieces.” His face reddened slightly.