“No you’re not.” He dropped his backpack and retrieved an elastic bandage. “I grabbed this, just in case.” He eased off her sock, trying not to think about the softness of her skin as he wrapped the foot and ankle snug enough to give her some support.
“See how that feels.” While she put her shoe back on, he slipped off the path, just far enough to find something that might help her.
She was standing when he returned, testing the foot. “It’s stronger.”
“Good.” He handed her a long stick. “This will help with your balance and maybe allow you to take a little pressure off of that foot.”
Her gaze quickly slipped to the ground. “Thank you.”
A crescent moon had risen above the Amphitheater by the time they caught up to the Taylors. Its feeble beams morphed the blackness into an ominous blue-gray. They still had so far to go and all the while Austin was trapped in utter darkness. Scared. Cold. Hungry.
The trail curved westward until they were looking down on Ouray. Lights flickered across the tiny town, reminding him they were not alone. People were praying. Empowering them to press on.
He could do this. He closed his eyes. He had to do this.
The slope grew steeper around the next turn. Loose stones shifted and scattered.
The sound of rushing water.
Cascade Creek.
They were almost there.
Blakely practically ran now, albeit with a hitch in her step.
Ahead, white water plummeted past jagged rocks to the stream below. Giant chunks of stone and logs scattered along and throughout the narrow creek, creating more than one easy means of reaching the other side.
A few moments later, they passed the old bunkhouse, a crude structure of corrugated metal and hand-hewn boards.
Another building loomed ahead. Perched on the mountainside, the windowless metal structure that had once served as machine house for the mine remained a fixture that was visible some two-thousand-plus feet below in Ouray.
“Okay, gang...” Mark sucked in a breath. “This is where things get a little tricky, so pay close attention.”
He wasn’t exaggerating. The trail descended sharply. Rocky terrain with little to no vegetation.
Trent swallowed the dread that threatened to stop him in his tracks. He didn’t recall this part of the hike being so difficult. Traversing it during daylight hours would have been a feat in and of itself. In the dark, however....
Sometimes moving at a snail’s pace, he never let Blakely more than one or two steps in advance of him.
Zach rushed ahead. “Over here. Hurry.”
Mark followed his son down the short embankment, while Shawna moved aside, allowing Trent and Blakely to pass. Trent hopped down first, then slid his hands around Blakely’s waist to ease her beside him.
Tailings, dynamited rock that had been removed from the mine, ground beneath their feet as they inched their way onto the small outcropping.
His foot slipped. Though he managed to catch himself, Blakely latched onto his arm. A move he wasn’t about to analyze.
He took a deep breath and continued, trailing his flashlight around a V-shaped cluster of pine trees, down to two large rocks.
His muscles tightened.
Zach lay on his belly to peer inside the rough opening that had been cut into the mountain. “Austin? I’m back. You okay?”
“Looks like an airshaft.” Mark fixed his flashlight on the eighteen-to twenty-inch hole.
“For the mine?” Trent dropped onto the dusty earth. Although the opening didn’t seem very big, for a small boy like Austin...
“These mountains are riddled with them.” Blakely’s voice held an air of resignation. “Though they’re not usually this big.”
Lying prostrate, Trent used his flashlight to peer through the narrow tube, deeper and deeper into the blackness. “Austin?”
“Down here.” His boy whimpered.
“Do you see him?” Blakely lay down opposite him.
“Not yet.” He’d heard about these airshafts, that they could stretch on for hundreds of feet. Bright as his LED flashlight was, it would never shine that far.
To his relief, ten feet down, the rock ceiling gave way to a tunnel. And there, with tearstained cheeks, clutching one arm in the other, was his son.
“Hey there, buddy.” His heart lightened as his throat clogged with emotion. “Boy, am I glad to see you.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.” Austin sobbed. “I know I wasn’t supposed to come up here.”
The poor kid was worried about being in trouble. “Are you hurt?”
“My arm.”
Blakely scooted forward for a better view. “Austin? I’m here, baby.” She sniffed. “The Mountain Rescue Team is on their way. You know how you’ve always admired them. They’re going to get you out of here as fast as they can. I love you. You just need to hang on, okay?”
Her words rolled out at warp speed. A nervous mechanism he’d witnessed time and again when he worked the E.R.
“I’m scared,” said Austin.
“I know, sweetie.” Her voice cracked.
“We’re right here, Austin,” said Trent. “And we’re going to keep shining this light until they get to you.”
“He looks cold.” Blakely shifted, opened her pack and pulled out Austin’s hoodie. She dangled it over the hole.
“Heads up, bud,” said Trent. “Here comes a jacket.”
She let it drop.
Voices drifted on the breeze. The clatter of carabiners.
He looked up as a series of headlamps bobbed ever closer.
* * *
Blakely leaped to her feet. Now she could finally get to her boy. “Over here.”
Equipment rattled through the chilly night air.
Taryn rushed toward her. “Is he okay, Blakes?” Despite her years of expertise, Taryn gasped for air. That, coupled with how quickly they’d arrived, told Blakely they’d raced up the mountain.
“I think so.” Tears pricked her eyes as she pointed to the hole. “He’s...down there.” Taryn dropped to her level, motioning to her teammates. “This way, guys.”
Clad in helmets and bright orange jackets, the seven volunteers marched passed Blakely. Each had been specially trained in rope rescue, emergency medicine, avalanche and swift water rescue. In the real world, she knew them all. And in all her years of helping them in their fund-raising efforts, she never dreamed she’d be on the receiving end of their services.
Rock ground against rock as they continued toward the only visible sign of her son.
One of the men caught her eye. Shorter than the others, Art Jenkins’ thick white hair peeked out the sides of his helmet. The elderly gentleman, with more stamina than people half his age, was one of a handful of retired miners who still lived in Ouray.
“Mr. Jenkins? What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to help.”
Eric Hoffman stopped alongside the man. “Nobody knows the area up here, or down there—” Eric pointed to the mountain beneath them “—better than this fellow.”
Her gaze returned to the old man. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“No thanks necessary, young lady.”
“We’ll need to go in through the mine,” said Nolan Dickerson after a quick assessment of the situation. The apparent captain for this venture started back up the rocky slope. “Eric, we’ll need those bolt cutters.”
Blakely stepped into his path. “I want to go with you.”
“Sorry, but I can’t allow that.” Nolan stared down at her like a father warning a child.
Taryn pushed between them, her pale blue gaze filled with concern. “We’ll get him out, Blakes.”
“And what am I supposed to do? Sit out here an
d twiddle my thumbs?”
“Of course not. You pray. Just like everyone in Ouray is doing.” Her expression softened. “You’re going to have to trust us.”
Trust. Something that didn’t come naturally. She glanced at Trent.
“Besides—” Taryn rubbed Blakely’s arm “—hearing your voice will keep him calm until we get there.”
As the team accessed the mine, Blakely snatched the phone from her pocket and dialed Gran. She kept the conversation brief and relayed only the barest of details. She didn’t have the energy for any more.
Ending the call, she hurried back to the air shaft. Mark and Shawna clung to their son.
Blakely longed to do the same with her boy. Patience had never been her strong suit. She wanted to touch Austin. Comfort him. Hold him.
“You’re hungry, huh?” Trent’s voice held a hint of a smile.
“That’s a good sign.” Looping the strap of her flashlight around her wrist, she again pressed her body against the cold ground and stared into the depths of the mountain.
Trent reached for his backpack, fished inside, then revealed a protein bar. “Incoming,” he hollered into the earth before dropping the bar.
“Oatmeal raisin?” Her son’s muffled lament encouraged her. “I like peanut butter better. Or chocolate chip.”
Trent smiled at her. “I’ll make note of that.”
Over the next half hour, Trent talked with Austin about everything from sports to movies. She appreciated his efforts to distract their son. Especially since she couldn’t seem to do anything but watch Austin, the way she used to when he was a baby. Fearful that something bad would happen and she’d lose him forever. Just like her mom and dad.
Her heart ached. She should have been there. Given Austin her undivided attention instead of gallivanting across the countryside with people she didn’t even know.
Maybe Ross was right.
“I hear something.” Austin’s attention shifted to the tunnel. “I see something.”
Blakely held her breath as seconds ticked by.
Finally, her son smiled up at them. “They’re here!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Trent drove Austin and Blakely home from the medical clinic, hoping and praying for a chance to redeem himself.
A sprained wrist and a few bruises were all Austin had to show for his ordeal. Trent couldn’t remember when he’d been more frightened. The thought of losing his son at all, let alone right after he’d found him, was more than he could bear. Now every fiber of his being praised God for safely restoring his son to him.
Overall, Austin probably fared better than either Trent or Blakely. All the way down the mountain, he and Zach talked the ears off of the rescue team, not to mention the old miner, Mr. Jenkins. Trauma aside, the kid was ecstatic that he’d been inside an actual mine.
Now, the excitement had finally caught up to Austin. He lay with his head in Blakely’s lap, his breathing slow and steady.
Trent watched as she stroked Austin’s dark curls. Why hadn’t he told her? So many times he set out to, but he’d always let something stop him. There was no such thing as perfect timing. He should’ve just laid his cards on the table from the beginning. If he had, maybe Blakely would still believe in him.
“When do we tell him?” Blakely’s words cut the excruciating silence.
Hands on the steering wheel at ten and two, he focused on the road. In his mind, the question wasn’t when but how. He knew Austin would be disappointed. Just like his mother. “Let’s give it a day or two. Give him time to move past what happened today.”
No response. She simply stared out into the blackness. A car passed from the opposite direction, its lights highlighting the worry lines around her pretty blue eyes. Eyes he’d never again have the opportunity to lose himself in. To stare into their depths, right into the heart of the only woman who would ever truly hold his heart.
“Would it be okay if I carry him up to bed?” He pulled up to the motel and shifted the truck into Park.
She hesitated a moment before nodding.
Trent cradled his son in his arms and went up the walk, into the house and to his room. Austin smelled of earth and little boy, his body relaxed against Trent’s.
Emotion pricked the backs of Trent’s eyes. Would this be the last time he held his son?
Out in the hall, he caught Blakely at the top of the stairs. “I should have told you. I tried several times, I just...”
She leaned against the wall, arms folded tightly over her chest. “I don’t believe you.” Her truthfulness sucked the wind out of him. “I think you came here for Austin. But to get to him, you had to go through me.”
“You really believe that?” He hoped she’d say no. That she’d remember all they’d shared.
“I think you should go.” She headed down the stairs and straight to the door.
He wanted to wrap his arms around her, make her believe in him. In them. But she’d only pull away.
She held the door wide. “Goodbye, Trent.”
His heart pounded with regret on the short drive back to his apartment. He had no clue what to do, how to make things right.
Pulling his cell phone out of his shirt pocket he dialed Dan. “Sorry to call so late, but I could really use a friend.”
Inside his apartment, he put on a pot of coffee. Had a feeling he was going to need it. About the time it finished brewing, three raps on the door signaled Dan’s arrival.
“It’s open.”
“Smells good.” Dan sidled up to the pass-through bar and took a seat.
Trent filled his mug and gestured to the pot. “Care to join me?”
“Why not?” His friend waited as Trent poured. “Rough night, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
“Praise God things ended so well.”
“That’s for sure.” Trent would never be able to thank Him enough. He handed off the plain white mug. “Milk or sugar?”
“Both.”
He flung open the fridge, grabbed the carton of two percent and set it on the counter. “Wimp.” He slid a spoon and a small bag of sugar Dan’s way.
“Spoken like a man who takes his coffee seriously.” Dan added two spoonfuls and a splash and stirred. “You’re lookin’ pretty rough.”
Trent shrugged. “Nothing a shower and some rest won’t cure.”
“That’ll take care of the outside, but what about the inside?”
He sent his friend a lopsided smile. “That’s why you’re here.” Cup in hand, he headed for the living room. “Austin’s disappearance wasn’t the only thing that happened today.”
Dan twisted around on the barstool. “Oh?”
“Blakely found out I was leaving.” He sat on the couch and met his friend’s stare. “Only she didn’t learn it from me.”
Dawning lit in his friend’s tired eyes. “I’m guessing that didn’t go over well.”
“I should have told her, Dan.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was afraid she’d react...just like she did.” Trent raked a hand through his greasy hair. “And just when I was starting to earn her trust.”
“So when’s God going to earn yours?”
“What?” He sent Dan an incredulous look.
Leaving his mug on the counter, Dan walked toward him. “Fear held you back from telling Blakely. Fear isn’t of God. We’re called to step out in faith and trust Him with the outcome.”
Cradling the warm mug in his cold fingers, Trent rested his forearms on his thighs and stared at the wood-look floor. “Guess I don’t have this trust thing down as well as I thought I did.” If he had, he might not be so miserable right now.
Dan settled on the other end of the couch. “God’s way may n
ot be easy. But it’s always better.”
“You’re right.” Trent took a sip, then set his mug on the side table. “I need to trust Him to work out the logistics of my future with Austin.”
Dan watched him. “What about Blakely?”
“Have you not been listening? I blew it. It’s over. Kaput.”
“So that’s it? You’re just going to let her go?”
“Well...”
Dan shook his head. “Sorry, Trent, but you’re a fool.”
“Pardon me?”
“In some ways, you and Blakely are a lot alike. You spend a whole lotta time worrying about everyone else, but what do you want? What’s important to you?”
He didn’t even have to think. “Austin and Blakely. I think God brought me to Ouray for a reason. And more than anything, I’d like for the three of us to be a family.”
Dan looked him straight in the eye. “Then what are you willing to do to make it happen?”
* * *
Blakely hadn’t wanted to come to work Monday morning. She wanted to go back to bed, crawl under the covers and forget that Trent Lockridge existed. How did the old saying go? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...
Shame on her for listening to her heart and not her head. She knew better. She fought it every step of the way, but in the end Trent still wormed his way back into her heart and her life. Now, here she was, picking up the pieces once again.
“I thought you’d be done crying by now.” Taryn strolled through the front door of Adventures in Pink.
Blakely slammed her hand down on the stapler. “I’m not crying.” At least not at the moment.
“Then what’s causing those red-rimmed eyes?” Her friend rested her forearms on the counter.
“Allergies?” She added the papers to her stack.
“Come on, Blakes. Austin is fine.”
She grabbed the next invoice, proof of insurance and credit card receipt. “You’re right. Austin is fine.” Smacked the stapler again. Set the papers aside.
Taryn scooted around the L-shaped desk. “Don’t tell me you’re getting all worked up over the audit?”
The Doctor's Family Reunion Page 18
