Читать книгу The Doctor's Family Reunion - Mindy Obenhaus - Страница 13

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.”