The Doctor's Family Reunion

by Mindy Obenhaus

  He nodded in the direction of the vendors, eager to be there with Austin. “Blakely volunteered to help out.”

  Ross shook his head. “It’s no wonder she’s losing business.”

  “Excuse me?” Trent jerked his attention to Ross.

  “Bless her heart. That one’s got so many irons in the fire. What with the high season upon us and so little time to spend with her boy.”

  “Are you kidding? Blakely spends more time with Austin than many two-parent families.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. She’s a fine mother. And now that you’re here to help her...” Ross chuckled. “That is, if she’ll let you. She’s one stubborn filly, isn’t she?”

  Trent crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at the man. “And you would know that how?”

  Ross shrugged. “Business dealings.” He leaned closer, pretending to survey the ever-growing crowd. “Just between you and me, she’s got an offer on the table.”

  “Offer? For what?”

  “Adventures in Pink.”

  A disbelieving laugh blew out before Trent could stop it. “Are you kidding? She lives and breathes Adventures in Pink. Blakely would never sell.”

  Ross turned a serious eye Trent’s way. “Everyone’s got their price.”

  “Then you don’t know Blakely.”

  “Perhaps. But it would certainly free her up to concentrate on what’s really important.” Ross glanced toward Austin. “Like that boy of yours.” With that, Ross turned on his booted heel and walked away.

  Trent balled his fists, then dropped them to his sides. No wonder Blakely got so nervous when Ross was around. The guy was gunning for her business.

  Spotting Austin at the hamburger stand, Trent continued in that direction. He dodged around a couple teenagers tossing a Frisbee. Was Blakely really losing business? Not from the looks of things this weekend. From what he could tell, every tour was at capacity.

  Still, if money were a problem, it was his duty to help. Granted, most of his funds were tied up in the new practice, but he could offer some assistance.

  “You should get a burger, Dad.” Austin accepted the paper-wrapped one Taryn handed him, along with a lidded drink.

  “They sure smell good,” he said, stepping up to the long table that served as a counter.

  “I see you were talking to Ross.” Blakely’s gaze drifted from one thing to the next, her failure to look Trent in the eye speaking volumes about how nervous the encounter made her.

  “Unfortunately.”

  “What did he want?”

  Good question. What did Chapman want? To stir up trouble was his best guess. Though his revelations had left one nagging question.

  Was Adventures in Pink really in trouble?

  Chapter Twelve

  Trent had to find someplace else to live.

  Sipping his coffee from Mouse’s, he wandered along Main Street as the sun lifted above the Amphitheater Saturday morning. He didn’t know what his thought process had been when he first arrived in Ouray, but a tiny motel room just wasn’t going to cut it any longer.

  He paused while someone snapped a picture of the historic Beaumont Hotel, then continued his aimless trek. Of course, when he first arrived, he didn’t have a clue about Austin. Now he wanted to spend time with the kid. Hang out with him. That was hard to do in a motel.

  What he needed was an apartment. Even a little efficiency apartment would be better than where he was now. Something like where he lived that summer, above Adventures in Pink.

  Grinning, he eyed the line of vehicles winding the switchbacks that would carry them into Ouray. Who was he kidding? He stood a better chance of striking it rich in some gold mine than of Blakely renting to him. Assuming she even rented the units anymore. Running a tour company was one thing; acting as a landlord was another.

  “Morning.” Nodding to a middle-aged couple strolling past, he glimpsed a painting in the window of the art gallery. He crossed the sidewalk.

  More impressionistic, this rendering of Twin Falls didn’t have near the depth as Blakely’s mural. It lacked the passion and emotion. An image versus a relationship.

  Had Blakely put any of her works in a gallery? They’d certainly garner top dollar. And he’d be the first in line.

  He stepped back, aware that he was getting off task. An apartment. That was his goal for today.

  Doing an about-face, he started in the direction of a real estate office he’d spotted earlier. With any luck, they’d be open soon.

  “Dad!”

  Turning, he saw Austin jogging toward him. Beside him, Jethro’s tiny legs moved at the speed of light.

  Trent downed the rest of his coffee, tossed the lidded cup into a trash receptacle and moseyed toward the duo. The delight that danced across Austin’s face whenever he saw Trent brought him more joy than he’d ever known.

  “You’re out bright and early.”

  His boy smiled up at him. “Gotta get my chores done if I wanna sleep over at Zach’s tonight. He’s having an end-of-school party.”

  Ah, yes. The first day of summer break. “So what do you plan on doing with yourself now that school’s out?”

  Austin shrugged. “I dunno. But at least there won’t be homework.”

  Trent couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s right. Summers are meant for fun.”

  They resumed walking at a leisurely pace. Much to Jethro’s relief.

  “What will your mother and grandmother do without you to keep them in line tonight?”

  “Gran’s playing cards with her friends. I don’t know what Mom’s gonna do. Probably motel stuff since Gran will be gone.”

  “Oh, really?” Trent couldn’t help the slow smile that spread across his face. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

  * * *

  How pathetic. Blakely had a Saturday evening to herself and here she stood doing laundry. She should be treating herself to her favorite meal, watching her favorite movie...or better yet, she should skip the meal and indulge in a sumptuous dessert. Her mouth watered just thinking about a dark chocolate truffle from Mouse’s.

  She sighed.

  Instead, she’d probably end up eating a frozen dinner and reading another romance novel. Definitely pathetic.

  Thoughts of Trent drifted across her mind. And, as much as it bothered her, she found herself wondering what he was doing. She couldn’t imagine living in a motel room where the only place to stretch out was a bed. No household chores to keep you busy. No way to cook.

  Sorting through a pile of Austin’s socks, she struggled to find a pair that didn’t have holes in them. Good grief. They were only a month old. How did the kid manage to get a hole in every toe? She tossed a handful into the trash. “Time to buy more.”

  With a laundry basket perched on one hip, Blakely started for the stairs when the bell dinged in the office. Jethro barked but waited for Ellie Mae to lead the way. When she did, her entire midsection swayed back and forth.

  Blakely dropped the basket on the couch and followed the canines. “Good eve—” She drew in a sudden breath.

  “Anyone up for some ham, pineapple and black olive pizza?” Trent stood on the other side of the counter, next to the brochure rack, holding the flat box in one hand. “And if that’s not enough to satisfy your taste buds—” he waggled a smaller box with the other “—we’ve got a selection of Mouse’s finest truffles for dessert.”

  She wasn’t sure what thrilled her more, him or the food.

  The dogs danced at his feet, their noses in the air.

  Who could blame them? The tantalizing aroma wafted through the small office, making Blakely’s stomach growl.

  After all these years, he’d remembered her favorite. Usually she had to settle for something else because her family thought pine
apple on pizza was weird.

  “Omigosh. That would be awesome.”

  His smile did strange things to her insides as she motioned him down the hall and into the dining room. She’d probably regret the move later, but at the moment, her appetite overruled her common sense.

  Girl, lighten up for once and have fun.

  Where had that come from?

  What are you afraid of?

  Interesting. What was she afraid of?

  Falling for Trent. Having her heart ripped out. Again.

  Jethro and Ellie Mae pranced about the room as Blakely slid the silk sunflower centerpiece to one end of the table. “I’ll get some plates.”

  “Hey, I’m curious about something.” He set the box on the table. “Are you still painting? I mean, other than the mural at Adventures in Pink.”

  She paused at the cupboard. Outside of her family, no one had ever believed in her talent as much as Trent. He used to tell her she’d be a famous artist one day.

  “On occasion.” There wasn’t time for painting when Austin was little. Once he started school, her desire rekindled. Especially after doing the murals at church and Adventures in Pink. So much so that she’d been working on turning one of the apartments over Adventures in Pink into a studio. A place where she’d have room to work and wouldn’t have to pack everything away at the end of each session.

  She retrieved plates and some napkins before returning. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because, if you do, I’d like to buy one.”

  Her laughter spilled out before she could stop it. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Not at all. I saw some paintings at one of the galleries today and they couldn’t hold a candle to your work. It’s something you should consider. Maybe build up a collection during the winter months when things are slow in your tour business.”

  His suggestion reflected her thoughts to a T. Something she found intriguing. Not to mention scary. “I’ll keep that in mind. But right now—” her gaze drifted to the pizza box. “—all I can think about is what’s in there.”

  “It does smell good, doesn’t it?” He lifted the lid.

  “That’s not what you said the first time you saw me eating a pineapple pizza.” Using a fork, she laid a slice on each plate.

  “I tried it, didn’t I?”

  “After you accused me of trying to poison you.”

  He grinned. “Would you believe that I’ve ordered pineapple on my pizza ever since?”

  Her heart stuttered as she licked the tangy sauce from her thumb. Then covered the reaction by turning her attention to the dogs. “You guys are hungry, too, aren’t you?” Back in the kitchen, she filled their bowls and regained her composure.

  “Well, one thing’s for sure,” she said, coming into the dining room. “Our son didn’t inherit our affinity for above-average pizza.”

  “I like the way you said that.”

  She looked at him. “What?”

  “Our son.”

  Heat crept into her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “What can I get you to drink? Water? Soda?”

  “Water, please.”

  She escaped once again, filled two glasses with ice, then turned on the tap. “Austin said you guys played football today.” Returning to the table, she set a cup at each place and eased into the seat opposite Trent.

  He nodded, his mouth full. “He’s a good athlete.”

  “He loves sports. And he’s not afraid to try new things.” She savored her first bite. The sweet and salty flavors were like a colorful display of fireworks zinging around her mouth.

  “Except pizza with pineapple.”

  “Yes, his adventurous streak wanes when it comes to food.”

  He cradled his half-eaten piece. “I hear you got your tour vehicle back.”

  She nodded. “Yesterday.”

  “That must be a relief.”

  “You have no idea.” She washed down her next bite with a sip of water, surreptitiously watching the hunky man across from her. The barely there stubble that shadowed his square chin. Those long dark lashes her son had inherited. The subtle laugh lines that indicated he was a man who smiled often. Yeah, she was glad he was here. This was comfortable.

  Maybe too comfortable.

  Time to pull out some questions she’d had on her mind.

  “What happened to your wife?” Okay, she probably could have been a little more tactful.

  “Drunk driver.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth. “I...I didn’t. I am so sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “The driver was Lauren’s boyfriend.”

  Her mouth fell open. Talk about out of left field.

  He held up his crust. “Mind if I give this to the dogs?”

  “Go ahead.” His wife had a boyfriend?

  He broke the crust into two pieces, tossed them to his attentive audience and dusted his hands off. “My marriage was a joke, Blakely. Not long after Lauren miscarried, she told me she didn’t want to have children.”

  “But...you always wanted a family.”

  He reached for another slice. “Still do.”

  A breeze drifted through the window behind him, billowing the sheer curtain panel. Blakely didn’t know what to say, so she focused on her pizza.

  “At any rate, while I concentrated on my studies, Lauren was more interested in partying. I guess she thought being married to a doctor would be fun. That we’d be rich, attending one social event after the other.”

  “You hadn’t even made it through medical school.” She finished her first piece, including the crust, and started a second.

  “Exactly. So...” He picked off a chunk of pineapple and popped it in his mouth. “She found new friends. And, thanks to your grandfather, I found God.”

  Her heart almost melted. “Really?”

  He nodded. “All those talks he and I used to have took root. I came to realize I had a hole in my life that only God could fill.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. “Granddad would have been happy to know that.”

  He leaned forward, his arms folded on the table. “Blakely, there’s something I need to—”

  Ding.

  She pointed toward the office somewhere behind her. “I need to get that.”

  Trent managed to intercept the irascible Yorkie before he took off down the hall. “We’ll be here when you get back.”

  After assisting a young couple with some restaurant recommendations, Blakely paused to collect her thoughts. Seemed Trent’s life hadn’t been as blissful as she’d imagined. Maybe he wasn’t the man she’d made him out to be.

  Back in the dining room, she found him studying photos of Austin, Jethro still tucked under his arm. He set the dog down on the carpet as she entered.

  “Guess business is starting to pick up?”

  “Praise God.” She continued past him and reclaimed her chair. “Things get a little lean sometimes, but He always provides.”

  Trent studied her a moment, as though he didn’t believe her. Finally, he gestured to the now-closed pizza box. “Another slice? Or are you ready to move on to dessert?”

  “Definitely more pizza.”

  He flipped the top open.

  She grabbed a slice and scarfed it down as though she hadn’t eaten the two before. “Guess I was hungrier than I thought.”

  He placed the last piece on her plate.

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s all yours.”

  She picked it up. “That’ll teach me to have only a protein bar for lunch.”

  He folded his arms over his broad chest in a way that made his biceps look huge and glared down at her. “You do realize that’s not healthy?”

  “It’s
not like I make a habit of it.”

  He lifted a knowing brow.

  “Much.”

  Chuckling, he again positioned himself across from her. “So when did you leave Denver?”

  “About eight weeks after I returned.” Her appetite evaporated as old memories surfaced. She set her pizza on her plate, picked at the bits of ham. “My stepmother was afraid my condition, as she called it, would tarnish my father’s memory. Personally, I think she was more worried about her social status. How a pregnant stepdaughter might sully her reputation. She wanted to send me away somewhere to have the baby, and then put him up for adoption.”

  Trent’s gaze narrowed.

  “The whole idea scared me to death.” She grabbed a napkin and concentrated on wiping her fingers. “Like I wasn’t scared enough to begin with. I couldn’t imagine giving up my baby. Not after losing my parents.” She took a deep breath. “So, the night before I was supposed to leave, I got in my car and drove from Denver to Ouray. Gran and Granddad invited me to stay here and...” She glanced up. “I’ve never looked back.”

  Trent’s Adam’s apple bobbed, the muscle in his jaw twitching. After a silent moment, he rounded the table. Kneeling beside her, he took hold of her hands. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that you had to go through that alone, Blakely. If I had known...”

  His gaze searched hers before drifting to her lips. Stayed there. Was he going to kiss her? Did he want to?

  Her heart thundered as he leaned closer. It would be so easy...

  She turned her head. “I’ll take one of those truffles now.”

  After a slight hesitation, he stood and reached for the dark brown box. He opened it, set it in front of her. “Ladies first.”

  Spying a dark chocolate one, she grabbed it and took a bite, hoping to erase the memory of what had almost happened. What she’d wanted to happen. “How long are you planning to stay at the San Juan Inn?”

  “Good question.” He returned to his chair, clasped his hands atop the table. “It’s getting a bit claustrophobic.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “I talked with a real estate agent about something temporary, an apartment or such, but apparently they’re all occupied by college kids.”