The Doctor's Family Reunion

Well, that was one letter she wished she hadn’t written. She never imagined Trent would wait ten years to take her up on her offer.

Slipping the towel back into place, Blakely glimpsed something in the mirror that she thought she’d buried long ago. Yet there it was, hidden behind steely determination and hundreds of freckles.

The sting of Trent’s betrayal.

She took a deep breath and shook off the self-pity, vowing not to allow Trent or Ross to rob her of an enjoyable evening with her son.

In the kitchen, Blakely stared into the freezer, discounting chicken and pork chops before spotting a bag of frozen meatballs. She checked the pantry, giving herself a mental high five when she found both spaghetti sauce and noodles.

“Can’t get much easier than that.” Unless you counted cereal as a meal. And to her knowledge, Austin was the only one in the house who did.

She put a pot of water on to boil, then emptied the meatballs into a nonstick skillet. She nudged them around the pan as they sizzled.

Time had been kind to Trent. He’d always been ruggedly handsome, but now he was downright gorgeous.

Blakely froze, her spatula in midair. She’d lost her mind.

“You’re just tired,” she mumbled, returning her attention to the stove.

Not to mention lonely.

“Grrr.” She transferred the contents of the skillet to a saucepan and dumped in the jar of tomato sauce.

“Maybe you could stay for dinner.” Somewhere outside the window, Austin schemed with one of his friends. Luckily, spaghetti meant plenty to go around, so she wouldn’t have to worry about seeing that disappointed frown of his.

A few moments later the front door flew open.

“Mom?” He rushed into the kitchen. “Can I invite a friend for dinner?”

“Sure. Who is it?”

“Trent.”

Chapter Four

Trent’s apprehension over Austin’s dinner request paled in comparison to the look of horror on Blakely’s face when she emerged from the kitchen. Pausing at the back of the sofa, she dug her fingers into the soft beige fabric until her knuckles were white.

He knew he should feel sorry for her, but sympathy was mitigated by his desire to spend time with his son. A son Blakely never told him about.

Austin seemed oblivious to the tension, though. “Mom, look what Trent taught me.” In one quick movement, he gave his basketball a spin and uprighted it on his index finger, just like Trent had taught him. His brown eyes sparkled as he watched the rotating orb.

“Hey, you mastered it.” A smiling, and seemingly more relaxed, Blakely dashed for a bookshelf. “We need a picture of this.”

“Mom. You don’t have to take a picture of everything.”

Camera in hand, she paused. “Son, you know me better than that. Of course, I do.”

Trent’s gaze traversed the combined living and dining area. Nearly every surface, both vertical and horizontal, was adorned with family photos.

He had two. One of him as an infant with his mom and dad, and one of him and his mom, not long before she died.

He urged Austin forward. “Don’t give your mom such a hard time.”

Blakely held the digital camera in front of her and stared at the screen. “Ready?”

Austin gave the ball another spin and smiled.

After a brilliant flash, she checked the shot. “That’ll make the scrapbook.”

“The kid’s got a persistent streak.” Trent patted Austin on the back. “He worked at it all afternoon until he got it right.”

Blakely’s smile faltered. “You...spent the afternoon together?”

“Uh-huh.” Austin shrugged. “I figured you wouldn’t mind since you and Trent are friends.” He set the ball beside the front door. “I can’t wait to show Zach.”

Trent and Blakely friends? At this point, that was stretching it. Though he could certainly hope.

“So you and Trent were playing basketball?” She shoved the camera back into its case, her wary gaze darting between father and son.

“At the park. He’s really good.”

“What are you talking about?” Trent poked a thumb in Austin’s direction. “This turkey ran circles around me.”

Ellie Mae sashayed into the room, stopping between Austin and Trent.

“There she is.” He rubbed the dog’s floppy ears. Just a big old bundle of love, that’s what she was. “You’re a good girl. Yes.”

“Why, hello, Trent.” Rose strolled into the room with Jethro tucked under her arm.

The little Yorkie barked once, stopping when Rose stroked his furry chin.

“Good evening, Mrs. D. And you, too, Jethro.”

“This makes twice in one day,” said Rose.

“Twice?” Accusation laced Blakely’s tone. Seemed she’d been left in the dark on lots of things today.

“Yes, dear.” Rose settled into one of two red swivel rockers and crossed her feet. “We ran into each other this morning, and Trent was kind enough to help me with my groceries.”

Blakely regarded him but didn’t say a word. He could only wonder what was going through that pretty head of hers.

“Well now, don’t everybody stand around. Sit down, sit down.” Rose waved a hand through the air, gesturing to the sofa and loveseat.

Trent snagged the loveseat in front of the window. “This place looks great, Mrs. D.” Gone were the white walls and pink and blue furniture. Shades of gold and orange now warmed the space.

This house had been his haven that summer. Where he’d first experienced the true meaning of family. Though it didn’t look anything like he remembered, an enormous amount of love still abounded in these four walls.

“Doesn’t it, though?” Rose rocked gently back and forth. “After Bill died, Blakely said I needed a splash of color. I was a little leery at first, but she did a great job. I just love how cozy everything feels.”

“She always did have an eye for color.” His gaze drifted to the anxious strawberry blonde behind the couch. “But, then, one would expect that from an artist.”

Her cheeks reddened. Just the reaction he was hoping for.

“Mom said Trent could stay for dinner.” Austin flopped onto the sofa.

“Oh!” Blakely jumped and turned for the kitchen. “I almost forgot about dinner.”

Trent excused himself and followed her, eager to find some way to ease the tension between them.

He found her frantically wiping the stove top when he entered. “Anything I can do to help?”

Halting midwipe, she hesitated before finally turning around. “Um...” Eyes wide, she bit her bottom lip. Something he found sweet and...surprisingly irresistible.

He moved closer, intrigued as her gaze roamed his face, stopping at the scar on his forehead. Did she remember how it got there? That instead of holding that branch on their way up to Chief Ouray Mine, she’d let go. And five stitches later, she vowed to make him cookies twice a week until the end of August.

She looked away. “Actually, it’s Austin’s job to set the table.”

Unwilling to let the moment go, he stepped closer, eliminating what little space remained between them.

“He’s a great kid, Blakely. You’ve done a fantastic job.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thanks.”

* * *

Blakely closed Austin’s bedroom window and waited for him to finish brushing his teeth. Despite the recent warming trend, overnight temperatures still tumbled into the low forties. She wasn’t about to risk him catching a cold.

Picking up the red hoodie from the floor, she savored the scent of little boy before hanging it in Austin’s closet. What would she ever do without him? He was her world. What if Trent tried to take him away?

Austin appeared then. Wearing only pajama bottoms, he scooted under the green camouflage comforter, leaving room for Blakely to sit beside him. “We should take Trent Jeeping sometime.”

Blakely feigned interest. She was sick of hearing about Trent, though, she supposed, she’d better get used to it. “What makes you think he’d be interested in tagging along with us?”

“He said so.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” She straightened a stack of books on his headboard. What else might Trent instigate?

“Yeah. He said he likes going over the passes and stuff, but he’s too chicken to drive.”

She laughed. “Chicken? Was that your word or his?”

“His. I bet he’d like that place we found last summer. You know, the one off the old road to Imogene. Where we found the mine.”

“Hey, short man, what have I told you about those mines? All kinds of danger can lurk in those things.”

“I know. But they’re so cool.”

She ruffled his soft curls and kissed his cheek, thankful he still let her. “You need to get to sleep. It’s late, and we’ve got church in the morning.” Clicking off the lamp on his nightstand, she adjusted his covers one last time. “Sleep tight.”

“Mom?”

“Yes.” She waited at the foot of his bed.

“So, can we take Trent?”

“We’ll see.” It wasn’t like her to be so noncommittal, especially where her son was concerned. But Trent’s sudden appearance made it impossible to think straight.

Descending the stairs, she wondered how she’d even begin to tell Austin about his father. And prayed Trent wouldn’t do so without discussing the matter with her first. When the time came, she’d make sure they told him together.

Downstairs, Gran sat in her rocker, knitting, while a rerun played on the television. Jethro snuggled beside her, and Ellie Mae was passed out at the front door. Probably waiting for Trent to return. You’d think the guy had bacon in his pockets the way she behaved.

“If you need me, I’m going to be taking a bath.”

“Okay, dear.”

Blakely retrieved her romance novel from the coffee table. She must enjoy torturing herself. Why else would she keep buying these love stories?

“You handled yourself very well tonight.” Her grandmother twisted the needles and yarn.

“It sure didn’t feel that way.”

Gran peered over the top of her reading glasses. “You always knew this day might come.”

“Yes, but I always thought I’d have time to prepare.” She swiped at her dirty jeans. “And that I’d be better dressed.” Which wasn’t fair when Trent always seemed to look breathtakingly handsome.

Gran chuckled. “Well, I think we ought to give the young doctor a chance to prove himself.”

“What?” Blakely lowered her voice to a whisper and dropped into the chair beside her grandmother. “How can you say that? After what he did to me?”

“This isn’t just about you, dear.” Gran leaned closer, laying a hand on Blakely’s arm. “Yes, Trent made some bad choices. But you know as well as I do that we serve a God of second chances. Don’t be so quick to judge.” She winked. “You might miss a blessing.”

Blakely shot to her feet. How dare Gran take Trent’s side. “Austin is my blessing. And I never missed a thing.”

Chapter Five

Blakely paced the empty Sunday School room. Out of the handful of churches in Ouray, what were the odds that Trent would show up at Restoration Fellowship? Now she faced the less-than-desirable prospect of sitting with him during worship.

“What are you doing in there?”

She turned to the voice coming from across the hall. Taryn Purcell, Ouray’s best mountain guide, stared over the Dutch door that led to the church nursery.

“Just a little tidying up.” As if to prove her point, she snatched a bulletin from a metal folding chair and tossed it into the trash.

Her friend lifted a brow. “Since when do you and four gray-haired ladies make a mess?”

Blakely frowned, surveying the tiny room. Even the chalkboard remained pristine.

“I guess I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Piano music drifted from the sanctuary as she flipped off the light and crossed to the brightly colored children’s area. Vrooms and crashing sounds echoed from the corner. Blakely smiled at two little boys playing cars. That had always been Austin’s favorite, too.

“Must be an awful lot, then. It’s not like you to lag behind.” Taryn stooped to pick up the Flint’s two-year-old daughter clinging to her leg. “So what gives, Blakes?”

Her friend knew her too well.

The mural of Jesus and the little children on the opposite wall brightened what had once been a dingy, lifeless room. Hard to believe Austin was four when she painted that. Where had the time gone?

Her attention shifted back to Taryn. “More than I care to go into right now.”

“All right, then. How about after our practice session? Think you can squeeze in some extra girl time?”

Blakely caressed the soft golden curls of the toddler in Taryn’s arms. “I was hoping you might be available.” Her secrets were safe with Taryn. Outside of Gran, she was the only one who knew the story of Austin’s father. And she understood better than anyone else ever could. No doubt she’d also have a thing or two to say about Ross Chapman.

“You know I’m always here for you, Blakes. I’ll even bring chocolate.” Taryn’s smile glinted in her aquamarine eyes.

“You’re on, my friend.”

Notes of “Blessed Be Your Name” filtered down the hall.

“I guess I’d better get in there before Austin gets worried.”

“Yes, you should. And try to contain your excitement, would you?”

Anxiety knotted her stomach by the time she moved down the aisle. Thank goodness everyone was standing, making her late arrival less noticeable. Gran, Austin and Trent lined the pew on the third row, so she slipped in beside Gran and joined in the chorus.

When she stole a glimpse of her son, though, Blakely felt as though she were careening off of Imogene Pass.

Austin and Trent looked so much alike, it was like a six-inch time warp. A younger and older version of the same person. When people saw the two of them together, the rumor mill was bound to start churning, hard and fast. How long would she have before Austin started asking questions?

Her palms grew sweaty. She squeezed her eyes shut. Lord, please make this go away. Make him go away.

After the service, Trent followed them outside. Puffy white clouds meandered across the sky, but storms often lurked on the other side of the mountain.

“Mom, can Trent eat lunch with us?” The eagerness in her son’s tone was hard to miss.

Trent touched the boy’s shoulder. “Hold on there, Austin. I imposed on you guys last night. It’s my turn to do the asking.”

While Blakely cringed, Austin waited expectantly.

“I was thinking about heading over to Ridgway to grab some lunch at the True Grit Café. I’d be honored if you guys would join me.”

“All right!” Austin turned to her, looking as though he might wiggle right out of his tanned skin. “You love their fish tacos.”

“Yes, I do. However, Miss Taryn and I have plans this afternoon.”

Gran waved to a fellow church member. “I thought that wasn’t until three, dear.”

“That’s plenty of time, Mom. Come on. Please?”

The thought of having another family meal with Trent was about as appealing as a box of rocks. But that cherubic face pleading up at her made it impossible to say no.

Defeated, she let go a sigh. “Oh, all right. But we’re not going to make this a habit.” Though the words were directed at Austin, she glared at Trent.

“Great. My truck’s parked right over there.” He pointed to a white four-door pickup. “That is, if you don’t mind me driving?”

Before she could respond, Austin ran ahead.

“You all have fun.” Gran tucked today’s bulletin inside her Bible.

“What?” Blakely’s voice drifted up a notch. She quickly tempered it. “You mean you’re not coming?”

“It’s the third Sunday of the month, dear. Florence and I are doing brunch at Bon Ton.” Her all-too-coy grandmother turned to leave, then paused and smiled. “However, you’re certainly welcome to bring me a piece of the Grit’s wonderful pie.”

* * *

Trent couldn’t help noticing the way Blakely hugged the passenger door of his pickup on the drive to Ridgway. Her ponytail was gone today, allowing waves of strawberry-blond curls to spill over her shoulders, free and easy. Now if only she’d loosen up.

Good thing they had Austin to keep things lively.

“Trent, did you know they made the movie True Grit here?” Austin poked his head between the front seats as Trent pulled into a parking space near the park. “The hanging scene was right over there.”

“I don’t believe it.” He put the vehicle in Park.

“Really. It’s true. Right, Mom?”

“Absolutely right.” She opened her door, apparently eager to escape. Like being in these close quarters, having to endure the sweet fragrance of her shampoo, wasn’t driving him crazy.

“That’s why True Grit’s called True Grit.” Austin hopped from the backseat, gravel crunching when his feet hit the ground.

“You ever see that movie?”

“Lots of times. John Wayne is cool.”

Trent stepped down, his thumbs dangling from his belt loops. “I’d have to agree with you there, Pilgrim.” A lame impersonation of The Duke, but Austin laughed anyway.

Though the soft giggle that filtered through the cab was what really got his attention. He’d missed that laugh. Hoped to hear more of it. Even if it meant pulling out his Elvis impersonation.

Across the street, he held the door open as Blakely followed Austin inside the restaurant.

The True Grit Café, a longtime favorite of locals and tourists alike, hummed with energy, not to mention the aromas of Tex-Mex and comfort food that made his stomach growl.

A ponytailed brunette scurried from behind the L-shaped bar and across the wood floor. “Table for three?”

He nodded.

The young woman grabbed a stack of menus and led them past the stone fireplace to a booth at the back of the restaurant.

Blakely slid in beside Austin as the waitress handed out menus and took their drink orders.

“Look.” Trent pointed to a picture of a young John Wayne hanging on the wall next to them. “We get to eat with The Duke.”

Never mind that every other patron did, too. Movie memorabilia lined the walls of the restaurant. And though actor Dennis Weaver had been Ridgway’s most famous citizen, John Wayne still reigned as king at the Grit.

Cheek resting on his fist, Austin opened his menu. “You’re so weird.”

Trent’s mouth fell open. His first slam. Oh, no.

Opposite him, Blakely struggled to contain her laughter. “Welcome to the wonderful world of—” She stopped, leaving off the proverbial “parenthood.” “I mean, welcome to my—”

World, he was tempted to add.

Finally, she gestured to their son. “See what I have to put up with?”

He shouldn’t get enjoyment from watching her squirm, but he couldn’t help it. She looked so darn cute in pink.

Now she hid behind her menu.

Trent tried to focus on his own. “What are you getting, Austin?”

“I can’t decide. Either tacos or a hamburger. They have the best hamburgers.”

“That we do, young man.” The waitress deposited their drinks, tucked the small tray under her arm and withdrew a pad from the pocket of her black apron. “So what would you like to order?”

After a few moments of indecision, Austin opted for the burger. Trent joined him, while Blakely ordered the fish tacos.

“Hey, Trent.” Austin swirled a straw through his Sprite, watching the tiny bubbles on the sides of the glass. “Did you know Adventures in Pink is the best tour company in Ouray?”

“So I hear.” He emptied a packet of sugar into his iced tea, glancing Blakely’s way. “By the way, when did The Jeep Company become Adventures in Pink?”

“About seven years ago.” She peeled the plastic covering from her straw and poked it into her glass of water. “Granddad wanted something to set us apart. We toyed with the idea of red, but that was too generic.” She took a sip. “Pink started as a joke. But the more we thought about it, the more we liked it. Especially once we came up with the name Adventures in Pink.”

“And I see you’re doing more than Jeep tours.”

“Hence the adventure part.” She unrolled the napkin from around her silverware and laid it across her lap. “By teaming up with businesses in Telluride and Ridgway, we now offer river rafting, fly-fishing, even hot air balloon rides.”

“Sounds like strategic marketing.”

“That was our goal. Even if folks don’t remember our name, all they have to do is mention the pink Jeeps.”

“Austin, how do you feel about the pink theme?” Trent swigged his tea.

“It’s pretty cool. I still think they should have flames, though.”

A sudden burst of laughter had him choking and coughing. “You may be on to something, buddy.” His voice cracked as another cough escaped.

“You okay?”

Was that a note of concern in Blakely’s query?

“Raise your arm over your head,” said Austin.

Trent swiped a napkin across his mouth, blew out a slow breath and took another drink. “I’m okay.” He cleared his throat one more time. “But I’d have to agree with Austin. I think flames might be just the right touch.”

She lifted a brow. “Uh...no.”

“Here we are.” The waitress placed each order in front of its owner.

“Wow.” Trent stared at the half-pound buffalo burger on his plate. “Now that’s what I call a burger.”

“Wait till you taste it.” Austin chomped on a French fry.

“Anything else I can get you folks?”

“No, I think we’re good.” With the waitress gone, Trent glanced at Austin then Blakely. “Shall we pray?”

Blakely grabbed Austin’s hand. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Austin stretched his other hand across the table toward Trent.

The simplest of gestures, yet one that meant so much.

He clasped Austin’s hand, then offered Blakely his other.

The softness of her touch sent a wave of awareness through him. And, for a split second, it was as though they were a family.

Dreams he’d tucked away long ago drifted to the surface. Could he still have the one thing that had eluded him all his life?

Maybe...if he wasn’t going back to Albuquerque at the end of the summer.

Unfortunately, he’d made commitments that demanded just that.

Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it’s the Lord’s purpose that prevails.

The verse played across his mind as he blessed their meal. God had a plan. He knew about Austin long before Trent did. It was Trent’s job to trust God to work things out according to that plan.

Attacking the massive buffalo burger, Trent savored the perfectly seasoned meat.

Austin swallowed his first bite of the burger. Licked ketchup from his fingers. “Mom, did you know Trent had a horse?”

“No, I didn’t.” She dared to meet the man’s gaze. “I don’t imagine Vivian is letting you keep that at the inn.”

“No.” He smiled. “She’s part of an equine therapy program in Albuquerque.”

“Trent said he’d take me riding sometime.”

He cut a quick look at Austin. “If it’s all right with your mom.”

Now they both stared at Blakely as another waitress skirted past carrying a large food-laden tray.

“That’d be fine.” She gripped the first of her two fish tacos. “As long as you wear a helmet.”

“A helmet?” Trent and Austin blurted at the same time.

“Mom, I’d look like a dweeb.”

Trent pointed to the photos on the wall. “John Wayne never wore a helmet.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t John Wayne’s mother.”

Multiple conversations and the clanking of silverware and dishes filled the subsequent silence.

“I’ll think about it,” Blakely finally said, brightening Austin’s mood.

He straightened, a smile lighting his face. “It’s not as dangerous as the fire hose water fights.”

“I love the fire hose fights.” Trent set his burger down, recalling the only Independence Day he’d ever spent in Ouray but would always be remembered as the best. “Next to the fireworks, that’s the best part of the Fourth of July.”

Austin leaned his arms on the table. “I know. And Mom’s gonna be in ’em again this year.”