The Doctor's Family Reunion

by Mindy Obenhaus

  “Bake sale? Maybe.” Taryn screwed on the handled lids. “Pancake breakfast? No.”

  Blakely laughed and took another sip of her coffee. The Mountain Rescue Team’s annual Fourth of July breakfast was their biggest fund-raiser of the year. Composed of volunteers like Taryn, the team was available 24/7 for search and rescue operations in the surrounding mountain communities. All without charge. Blakely might like to razz her friend, but she wouldn’t miss the opportunity to help.

  “Where’s Austin?”

  “He’s helping the guys set up.” She nodded in the direction of the main room as she ladled more batter onto the griddle. “Did I tell you I booked a new group?”

  “No.” Taryn licked syrup from her fingers before washing her hands.

  “A group of doctors from Albuquerque is doing a retreat/motivational thing in the area later this month. And get this—there are twice as many people as the seniors group, so they’ve booked tours for two days.”

  “That’s great.” Taryn turned off the water and reached for a paper towel. She leaned against the counter. “I am curious, though. Doctors? Albuquerque?”

  “Yes, Trent had something to do with it. They were going to be in Telluride anyway. He simply suggested a Jeep tour.”

  “I bet he did more than suggest. I’m sure he completely sold you. Of course, it’s totally worth it. For you and your guests.” She pointed to the griddle. “Sounds like the good doctor is pretty handy to have around.”

  Blakely flipped the bubble-topped cakes. Trent had tackled more fix-it projects in both her building and the motel than she and Gran managed in a year. Not to mention, she now had a basic understanding of spreadsheets.

  “I’m getting used to the situation.” Used to having him show up at just the right time, always knowing exactly what to say to make her feel better.

  “Situation, huh?” Taryn grabbed the tray of syrup containers and started toward the door. “And what exactly might that be?”

  “Not what you’re thinking.” She sent her friend a knowing glance. “Yet.”

  “We have a line outside.” Matt Stephens, another of Ouray’s mountain guides, burst into the kitchen, nearly hitting Taryn with the swinging door.

  “Matthew!” she glared.

  “My bad.” He took the tray from her. “We need to be ready to roll in ten.”

  “These two trays are full—” Blakely gestured to the large foil-covered buffet pans on the counter “—and the third will be shortly.”

  “Perfect.” He pushed through the door. “Order up!”

  Eric Hoffman, the town’s lone plumber, and Nolan Dickerson, owner of Ouray’s only year-round T-shirt shop, filed into the kitchen. Taryn handed each of them a pan as Blakely topped off the next and started another round.

  “Sausage?” Nolan’s wife, Susan, entered as the men left.

  “In the oven.” Taryn pointed, pulling crocks of individual butter packets and coffee creamer from the refrigerator. “Are the plates and utensils already out there?”

  Susan snagged a couple of pot holders from a drawer and opened the oven. “Yes.”

  “I can carry something.” Austin looked so cute in his pink Adventures in Pink T-shirt.

  “Here you go.” Taryn passed him the tubs. He tucked one in the crook of each arm, then used his body to hold the door open for Susan.

  The noise from the main room grew louder, indicating they were open for business.

  “Looks like we’re on.” Taryn paused beside Blakely, and tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “I know what it’s like to be betrayed, Blakes. But trust is a choice. I may not have found a man worthy of mine yet.” She shrugged. “But I sure don’t want to miss it when he does come along.”

  Batch after countless batch, Taryn’s words echoed through Blakely’s mind even after she relinquished her duties to high-tail it over to Adventures in Pink. Trent was supposed to decorate one of the tour trucks for the parade. Something that must have taken him longer than he expected because he never made it in for pancakes.

  Rounding the corner onto Seventh Avenue, she stopped dead in her tracks. The tour truck was bare. And Trent’s pickup was nowhere in sight.

  She tugged her cell phone from her back pocket. No calls. No texts.

  Great. Miss Teen Colorado was due any minute.

  She snagged the untouched box of decorations off of the porch. “Austin, let’s put the bunting along the sides, then we’ll add some more streamers to the rails.” Blakely attached a red banner to the back of the truck identifying their rider, Jenna Hightower, as Miss Teen Colorado.

  “What about these?” Austin held up two sticks decorated with silver ribbons and red and blue stars. “They kind of look like sparklers.”

  “What do you say we put those on the corners of the front bumpers?”

  He eyeballed the location. “How?”

  “I’ll figure it out in a minute, honey. You keep working on that bunting. We haven’t got much time.”

  He carefully attached each width of red, white and blue plastic, his face downcast. “Where do you think Dad is?”

  She wished she knew. “Do you want to try knocking on his door? Maybe he overslept.”

  “But his truck’s gone.”

  “Well, maybe he went somewhere last night and had to park farther away.”

  “Okay. I’ll check.” Head hung low, her boy scuffed across the gravel. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was one disappointed kid. Austin had been looking forward to spending this day with Trent for weeks.

  So have you.

  “He didn’t answer.” Austin returned in the same manner he left.

  How could Trent let Austin down like this? So not cool.

  The last streamer had barely been taped into place when Jenna arrived with her parents. The sun sparkled off of her her rhinestone-encrusted crown and glittery sash. She talked sweetly to Austin, who appeared quite smitten with the seventeen-year-old.

  “I spread a blanket over the back-row seat so you won’t have to worry about getting dirty.” Blakely pointed.

  Mr. Hightower, a tall, thin man whose well-worn cowboy boots hinted at rancher, gave the vehicle a visual once-over. “This is cleaner than the car we drove down here.”

  “I like the pink.” Jenna’s grin revealed a perfectly straight set of whiter-than-white teeth.

  “It matches your sundress.” She turned to Jenna’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Hightower, you’re welcome to ride in either the first or second row.”

  “Where’s this young fella gonna ride?” Jenna’s father ruffled Austin’s hair.

  “With my mom.” He poked a thumb in Blakely’s direction.

  “If everybody’s ready, it’s about time to get on up to the starting point.” Again, she scanned the area but saw no sign of Trent.

  Jenna’s father helped her in first and then his wife.

  Blakely slipped behind the wheel as Austin slammed the passenger door. She couldn’t help noticing the way he kept watching, waiting for Trent. The guy could have at least called. That is, unless he wasn’t able.

  She put the truck into Reverse, refusing to give in to the building angst. Trent was okay. Wherever he was.

  And, boy, would she be ready to give him a piece of her mind.

  * * *

  Ouray had the best Fourth of July celebrations. And Trent had already missed two of its high points—the pancake breakfast and the parade.

  Was he ever going to have a lot of explaining to do.

  He had trouble finding a parking spot. When he finally did, he jogged two blocks to Adventures in Pink. The truck he was supposed to decorate was parked out front, streamers still flying, but Blakely and Austin were nowhere to be found. He dialed her cell but no answer.

  He hurried up
the alley to the motel. Flags flew prominently and star-spangled pennants adorned the railings. He spotted Rose roaming from one pot of red, white and purple flowers to the next, a watering can in hand.

  “Mrs. D.” He stopped outside the office, winded. “Are Blakely and Austin here?”

  She plucked a couple of dead blooms. “You just missed them. They headed up to the Elks Lodge to grab some lunch.”

  He glanced at his watch. Was it lunchtime already?

  Moving closer, she set the watering can on the deck. “I hear you missed the parade.”

  “Yeah.” He raked a hand through his hair. “They called me to the hospital around four this morning. I kept thinking I’d be back in time, but...”

  “Things happen. Not much we can do about them.”

  “If they get back before I find them, will you have her call me, please?”

  “I will.” She regarded him, wisps of white hair dancing around her face. “Though I might warn you that my granddaughter is a tad upset.”

  “A tad? I bet that’s like saying the Titanic was a little mishap.”

  He picked his way toward the south end of Main Street, scanning the crowds, maneuvering around one person after another. American flags snapped in the warm breeze as the sun blazed down from a cloudless sky. This could be the hottest day they’d had all season. Though probably not as hot as Blakely’s temper.

  The aroma of grilling meat pulled him toward the lodge.

  He dodged past a long line of people waiting for barbecued ribs and stopped.

  Sitting cross-legged on the grass, Blakely played peekaboo with a stroller-bound baby. She wore an Adventures in Pink T-shirt over a pair of pink, brown and white plaid shorts. With her hair in braids, she looked like a teenager.

  Not far away, Austin munched on a hamburger. The poor kid didn’t look very happy. And it killed Trent to know he was the reason why.

  He took a deep breath and continued onto the grassy area.

  “Dad!” Austin leaped to his feet and rushed him, hugging Trent’s waist with his free arm. A move that nearly knocked Trent over.

  He wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulder. “Sorry I’m so late, buddy.”

  “Where were you?”

  Blakely watched him, her fiery gaze narrowing as she stood to join them.

  “I was at the hospital in Montrose.”

  Austin scrunched his nose. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course I am. One of my patients had an emergency. I had to wait on the cardiologist.”

  “And you couldn’t have called? Texted?” The fire in Blakely’s blue eyes had diminished to a smolder.

  “I had every intention of making it back in time. I really wanted to be a part of everything.”

  Their gazes shot skyward as a biplane buzzed Main Street, leaving a loop-de-loop contrail in its wake.

  “That’s okay.” Austin smiled. “You didn’t miss everything.”

  Trent turned his attention to Blakely, knowing she wouldn’t be so quick to forgive. “When I’m at the hospital, I’m in doctor mode. Sometimes I zone out on other stuff.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Your son is more than ‘other stuff.’”

  “I get that. But he doesn’t seem to be the one with the problem.” He stepped closer. “Why are you so upset, Blakely?”

  She twisted sideways. “For someone so smart, you sure can be dense.”

  Moving behind her, he lowered his head until his mouth was right beside her ear. “Then why don’t you lay it out for me.”

  Goose bumps erupted down her arm. “I was worried about you.” Her words were barely above a whisper.

  “Really?” He couldn’t help smiling as he moved in front of her. This was definitely a move in the right direction.

  “Yes, really.”

  “Mind if I borrow this?” He tugged the paper napkin from her hands. “Hold still.”

  “What?” Her annoyance had yet to fully dissipate.

  “Just be still.” He wiped a streak of red barbecue sauce from her cheek. “There.” He revealed the smudge. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate walking around town with that on your face.”

  The corners of her mouth twitched, that adorable blush coloring her cheeks. “Thank you.” She took the napkin and swatted him on the arm with it. “Next time you’d better at least leave a note.”

  “I promise.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Blakely and Taryn walked into the roped-off intersection of Main and Sixth Avenue to the sound of cheers. People gathered along all four sides of the crossroads, waiting for the show to start.

  Surveying the crowd, she searched for her boy, bypassing the north and south perimeters where the diehards gathered, eager to get soaked by a direct hit from the fire hoses. It took her only a moment to spot Austin, top row of bleachers on the west side, between Trent and Gran.

  He sent her a big thumbs-up, a gesture she readily returned.

  Gran held a green golf umbrella, her standard accessory for the event.

  Trent waved, his biceps bulging, making the Adventures in Pink shirt she’d given him look better than ever.

  Panning left, her heart launched into her throat.

  Nicole sat on the other side of Trent, her red halter top exposing a little too much skin. She laughed at something Trent said. Tossed her blond ponytail.

  Blakely didn’t like the twinge of jealousy the sight flared. Then again, Trent’s presence had been doing strange things to her insides a lot lately. But he hadn’t given her any reason not to trust him.

  Taryn had said trust is a choice. Could she choose to trust Trent again?

  Shoving aside her jumbled feelings, she readied herself for battle. Like a football player wears pads, she and Taryn put on life vests, the thick cushion a barrier between their body and hundreds of pounds of water pressure. Next, they donned the heavy firefighter garb while Phil Purcell, Taryn’s dad and former fire chief, gave them some last-minute instructions.

  “Lean into it. Take control right away.” He smiled and winked. “They’ll never stand a chance.”

  “We’ll do our best, sir.” Blakely donned a pink bandanna, tying it at the nape of her neck before pulling on her gloves.

  Across the way, their opponents also geared up. Both were younger. Cockier. Kim Barker stood at least five inches taller than Blakely. Her partner, Jackie Reed, somewhere in between. As intimidation tried to set in, Blakely reminded herself that it was technique and skill that would accomplish this—not size.

  “You ready, Blakes?” Standing behind her, Taryn lifted the length of fire hose while Blakely gripped closer to the nozzle.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The hose jerked, growing heavier every nanosecond as it pulsated to life. Blakely struggled to control the movement. This was just a warm-up, so she arched the spray of icy water over the crowd between the bank and Mouse’s. Austin would get a kick out of it.

  A few seconds later, the hose went limp and they set it on the asphalt while their opponents took their turn.

  The current fire chief, Jack Magsig, handed them each a helmet that had been fitted with an eighteen-inch shield to protect their faces from the intense water pressure. Even with the precaution, bloody noses were a common occurrence.

  Blakely shoved the helmet on her head and shot up a prayer. As if of its own volition, her gaze drifted to Trent and Nicole. Just because Trent was Austin’s father, didn’t mean Blakely had any sort of claim. And until recently, she never wanted one. Now...

  “Okay, girlfriend. This time it’s for bragging rights.” Taryn’s muffled voice managed to drag her back to reality.

  Again, Blakely gripped the nozzle and aimed it in the air as hundreds of pounds of water pressure coursed through the line.


  The official’s arm dropped.

  Game on.

  Her aim lowered to their lead opponent’s face shield. If she could keep it there, the girl wouldn’t be able to see a thing. Wouldn’t know where she was aiming.

  Water slammed into Blakely’s chest. Her shield.

  She bobbled and their stream bounced to the opponent’s torso.

  Against the force of the hose, Blakely struggled to lean forward. Like a good partner, Taryn pressed into her, just like they’d practiced, giving the support she needed.

  She hit her target. Held it.

  The opposing hose moved left then right. It hit the top of Blakely’s helmet, sending icy water down her neck and under her coat.

  Still, she kept her mark. Adrenaline moved her forward. Taryn stayed with her.

  Now, their opponent’s stream seemed to be everywhere but on them.

  Shield. Shoulder. Miss.

  Gran must be praying hard because Blakely’s aim remained steady.

  The lead on the other team lost her footing. She tried to switch places with her partner. Bad move. Their hose flailed.

  Blakely turned her attention to the second girl’s shield.

  The girl dipped her head. Now she was staring at the ground while the girl at the rear tried to direct the nozzle. Their stream went up then down. Back and forth. The girl in the second position dropped to her knees. The lead girl fell away completely, sending the hose dancing across the pavement, showering the crowd until officials rushed in to cut the water off.

  Blakely let go the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. They’d won. They won?

  “We won!” She dropped the nozzle and ditched her helmet at the same second as Taryn. They threw their arms around each other, jumping for joy.

  Jack came over and raised their arms into the air, signaling them the winners.

  “You did it!” Austin raced toward them and hugged Blakely around the waist.

  The crowd continued to cheer as she and Taryn met their opponents at the middle of the intersection for a group hug. Then they shrugged off the heavy gear and padding so the men’s teams could take the field. Blakely’s clothes were soaked all the way down to her tennis shoes.