Читать книгу The Doctor's Family Reunion - Mindy Obenhaus - Страница 14

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.”

His gaze shifted to Blakely. “You mean you’re in the fire hose fights?”

Her chewing slowed. She nodded.

“Yeah. She did it last year. Only her team lost,” Austin filled in for her.

“We’re planning on a different outcome this year.” She reached for her water. “Taryn and I have a new strategy.”

“Which is...?” Trent lifted a brow in anticipation.

“Pffft. Like I’d tell.” And there it was. The old playful Blakely he’d fallen in love with. Her guard was down, and she was enjoying the banter.

“You shoulda seen it, Trent. Mom had like this giant black bruise on her leg.”

“Sounds kind of dangerous.” He turned a concerned eye her way.

“Not really.”

“Yeah. She’s a tough cookie.” Austin smiled up at her.

She winked. “That’s what Granddad used to say.”

Austin’s attention shifted back to Trent. “My mom does ice climbing, too. And she’s an artist.”

Trent didn’t need Austin to tell him how wonderful his mother was. He knew firsthand. And, if he had his way, he wouldn’t mind getting to know Blakely all over again. But that would require forgiveness. Something she wasn’t likely to offer him anytime soon.

* * *

Heat rushed to Blakely’s cheeks until she was, no doubt, as red as Trent’s button-down shirt. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what her son was up to. The kid was trying to fix her up with Trent. Never had she seen him so enamored with someone.

Staring at her second taco, she all but lost her appetite. The little guy didn’t have a clue. All he knew was that he liked Trent. Enough that he wanted to play matchmaker for his mother.

“Fancy running into you folks again.”

Blakely jerked her head up to find Ross Chapman standing next to them. Beside him, his daughter, Nicole, struck a pose in her hip-hugging jeans and too-tight T-shirt.

Blakely’s first taco morphed into a lead weight in her stomach.

“Ross.” She forced herself to blink. “Nicole.”

Trent stood. “Mr. Chapman. Nice to see you again.”

“No need to be formal. Call me Ross.” He swiveled toward the young woman. “I’d like you to meet my daughter, Nicole.”

Slightly younger than Blakely’s twenty-nine years, Nicole was her daddy’s pride and joy. And forever trolling for a husband. Preferably one with big biceps and an even bigger wallet.

Blakely stole a glance at Trent. Hmm...a doctor would fit that bill just fine. And Trent certainly had the biceps. The man obviously never missed a workout.

The platinum blonde struck a flirtatious pose and held a perfectly manicured hand in Trent’s direction. “I hear you’re a doctor.”

Bingo!

“That’s correct.” Trent barely shook her hand. Then again, it was kind of like shaking hands with a wet noodle.

Nicole’s gaze lingered a little longer than necessary—stirring emotions Blakely refused to own up to—before turning her heavily made up face Blakely’s way. “Blakely. Austin. Good to see y’all.” If that Texas twang got any thicker it would drip like honey.

“You, too.” Blakely nudged her son. “Austin, can you say hi?”

“Hi.” He waved.

Nicole waved back, watching him a moment before her green eyes returned to Trent.

“I swear, Blakely, that boy of yours gets bigger every time I see him.” Though Ross’s words were polite enough, she’d had enough dealings with him to realize they weren’t sincere. “He’s at that age where they change so quickly. Better make sure you enjoy every moment.”

And there went the zinger. Ross’s not-so-subtle hint that she should sell Adventures in Pink so she could spend more time with her son.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that.” Blakely draped an arm around her son. “Austin’s my right-hand man.”

Nicole’s gaze flitted from Austin to Trent and back again, shifting Blakely’s panic into full throttle. Nicole might act the part of a dumb blonde; however, she was anything but. More like shrewd and discerning. And definitely not one to dismiss the similarities between Austin and Trent without digging further.

“As it should be.” Ross placed a hand on the small of his daughter’s back and urged her away. “You folks enjoy your lunch.”

Too late. He’d already ruined it.

Trent settled back into the booth. “That was...awkward.”

“Trust me. It could have been worse.” Blakely moved her shaky hands to her lap. If the Chapmans had the slightest inkling that Trent was Austin’s father, they’d find some way to use it against her.

Trent lowered his head a notch. “You okay?”

Far from it. But she couldn’t let on in front of Austin. “Fine.”

“You’ve barely touched your other taco.”

“I think I ate the first one too fast.” She grazed a hand over her stomach. “I’ll take it home and have it later.”

“Excuse me, please.” Austin wiggled next to her.

“Too many sodas?” She stood to let him out.

“Yes, ma’am.”

In Austin’s absence, Trent tucked his paper napkin beside his empty plate. “There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

If it involved custody of Austin, she wanted no part of it.

Her shoulders slumped. “I suppose. But not while Austin’s around.”

“Agreed.”

She faced him, mustering enough courage to ask the question that had plagued her most. “Trent, are you going to try to take Austin away from me?”

“I don’t think I can answer that right now. I’m still trying to absorb the fact that he’s my son.”

His answer was fair enough. Still, that question would be her constant companion.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Please don’t tell him who you are without me.”

“Blakely, I wouldn’t....” He raked a hand through his hair before clasping the other atop the table. “There’s so much I want to know about him.”

She jiggled the ice in her now-empty glass. “Like what?”

“Like...his middle name?”

“Blake.”

“After your father.” His voice was endearingly gentle.

She nodded.

“I like it. Is he always so easygoing?”

“For the most part.”

“When’s his birthday?”

“Who’s birthday?”

Trent’s uneasy expression mirrored her own. Was that all Austin had heard?

“Yours, of course.” Emotions collided as she scooted over to let him sit down. The day Austin was born was the happiest of Blakely’s life. It was also the saddest.

“June first,” Austin announced with pride.

“That’s coming up pretty quick, isn’t it?” Trent seemed to relax once again.

“Yeah. Hey, maybe you could come to my birthday.”

Blakely glanced from Trent to the Chapmans.

This day just kept getting better and better.