pitch-dark house alone didnât frighten her one bit. Having to do it with Mitch Fowler underfoot, however, was a decidedly unsettling thought!
âEverything is unusual here,â she said. âFor such beautiful country, the Ozark Mountains certainly have a lot of drawbacks.â
âThatâs a matter of opinion. If you had a gas generator for backup, like I do, you wouldnât have to worry about whether or not you lost power.â
Bree huffed in mock disgust. âI donât suppose you brought your generator with you.â
âItâs much too heavy to carry,â Mitch said as if explaining to a simpleton. âDonât you have a flashlight?â
âYes! I know thereâs one around here somewhere. Let me seeâ¦â Turning in a slow circle, Brianne frowned. âI think I may have put it in the pantry.â
âThen I suggest you go get it.â He looked at the lights as they flickered repeatedly. âSoon.â
Bree had traveled less than three paces when the lights flashed one more time. Then everything went black.
âDonât move,â Mitch warned. âLet your eyes adjust to the darkness first.â
âI know that.â Tension was making her sound waspish.
âExcuse me. I was just trying to help.â
âI know that, too,â Bree said. âYou stay put. Iâm used to this place. I can find my way around.â
âMake use of the lightning. Youâll be able to see a little better when it flashes. Itâll help you get your bearings.â
âIs that more of your homesteading wisdom?â
Mitch chuckled softly. âNo. Just plain male logic. Something women donât understand.â
She was glad he couldnât see the exasperated face she was making at him. âNext, youâll be telling me that female logic is an oxymoron.â
âIsnât it?â
If Mitch hadnât known he was in the company of a well-bred, refined lady heâd have sworn he heard her give him a raspberry!
The sky outside the kitchen windows was alive. Clouds glowed a misty gray, dimming and brightening unevenly as if lit from behind by some monstrous, out-of-control searchlight.
Brianne knew which direction to walk, she just wasnât sure how many steps remained between her and the pantry. Extending her arms in front of herso she wouldnât hit anything headlong, she groped her way toward the door.
Mitch waited and watched as best he could. She reminded him of a sleepwalker being illuminated by a strobe light, and he wasnât comfortable with what little he could discern. What was she doing? Didnât she see the door?
He blurted, âLook out!â
âWhat?â Bree turned her head in his direction. That momentâs inattention was a mistake. Before another flash came to guide her, sheâd jammed the end of her middle finger into the leading edge of the half-open pantry door.
âOuch!â
âThatâs what I was trying to warn you about,â Mitch said. He reached her side quickly, touched her arm lightly. âAre you all right?â
âNo. It hurts.â
âI figured that much,â he said wryly. âLet me see it.â
Brianne allowed him to take her hand, but only because it would have been silly to pitch a fit or try to evade him in the dark. âSee it? How do you propose to see anything? In case you havenât noticed, thereâs no light in here.â
To her dismay he began using his hands instead of his eyes to survey her sore finger, bring another ouch.
âDoes it hurt when I do this?â
âIt hurts, period,â she said, tugging against his firm grasp. âQuit trying to help so much, okay?â
âYou are the most stubborn woman Iâve ever met.â
His exasperation amused her. âThank you. I do my best.â
âYou should put ice on that finger, just in case,â Mitch said, caressing her hand as he
Spencer's Forbidden Passion