The Doctor's Family Reunion. Mindy Obenhaus

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СКАЧАТЬ he could almost hear the roaring waters and smell the Columbines and Indian Paintbrushes. And was that—he leaned closer—a marmot?

      “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

      He faced the thirty-something woman. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

      “Our owner did that.” She leaned back in her chair. “She’s quite a talented lady.”

      “Blakely.” He’d recognize her work anywhere. Work that seemed to have improved with age.

      “That’s her.” She cocked her head. “Are you a friend?”

      “I’d like to think so.” Even though Blakely might disagree. He approached the counter. “Is she here?”

      “She’s out in the shop. I’d be happy to get her—”

      The telephone rang.

      “Excuse me.”

      While the receptionist took the call, he roamed the selection of T-shirts, bumper stickers and other souvenirs near the front windows. What a great addition, as was the snack bar in the corner that boasted sodas, coffee and water. They’d really ramped up the old Jeep company.

      The telephone conversation grew lengthy, and impatience got the best of Trent. After catching the brunette’s eye, he let himself out the back door.

      An acrid odor assailed his nostrils the moment he stepped into the garage. The place had more rubber than a tire store. Wheels were stacked five high throughout the space, with more lining the walls overhead.

      The whir of an impact wrench cut the air. Blakely was out here, all right. But where?

      Two pink Jeep Wranglers and a large red tool chest later, he found her.

      Squatting beside a third Jeep, Blakely’s movements were as adept as any pit crew member at the Indy 500. No sponsor-littered coveralls for her, though. She wore jeans and a T-shirt, pink, of course, with the company’s logo in white lettering. Her hair had been gathered into a ponytail that trailed down her back.

      His fingers twitched. He’d always loved her hair, the feel, the smell. Not to mention those cute freckles.

      Something cold and wet touched his hand then, interrupting his reverie.

      He looked down to find a golden retriever smiling up at him, tongue lolling out one side of its mouth.

      Instinctively, Trent stroked the animal’s head before returning his gaze to Blakely.

      The noise stopped.

      She pushed to her feet and moved toward a stack of tires, never noticing him.

      He knew he should say something, let her know he was there. Instead, he just stared, still rubbing the dog’s ears. The woman before him was prettier than the girl he remembered. But it was what was on the inside that had drawn him to Blakely. Strength. Passion. Loyalty. How could he have been fool enough to let something like that go?

      Because you messed up big-time, buddy.

      Wincing at the memory, he watched Blakely hoist another tire.

      “Those things look heavy. You should ask for help.”

      She flinched but quickly recovered. “I’m pretty good at doing things myself.”

      Double meaning inferred, he was certain.

      He perused the damaged tour truck in the next bay. Studying the wreckage, he shivered. Thank You for watching over her, Lord.

      “You always did love being up here with your grandfather.” He shortened the distance between them. “I’m not surprised he passed it to you.”

      Mounting the tire onto the axle, she all but ignored him, her shoulders rigid.

      He came alongside her then, the retriever still at his heels. “How’s the head?”

      “Don’t tell me you’re here for a house call.”

      “No. Just curious.” He gathered a bolstering breath. “I’d like to talk to you about my son.”

      Latching on to the hose that dangled from a reel overhead, she fired up the noisy power tool again, making conversation impossible.

      Before he could figure out his next move, a young boy appeared through one of the open garage doors.

      Trent’s heart pounded when he saw the shock of dark hair that curled over the boy’s ears and brow. His eyes were the color of coffee, just like Trent’s.

      He recalled how Blakely used to tell him his eyes were root beer colored and wondered if she did the same with Austin.

      The boy was small for his age, but he’d grow out of it. For years, Trent had been the shortest one in his class. Then, almost overnight, he’d hit his growth spurt and surpassed them all.

      The noise stopped when Austin touched Blakely’s shoulder.

      “Can I go to Zach’s house?”

      Standing, Blakely sent Trent a warning glance before turning her attention to her son. “Did you finish your chores?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      She smiled, eyeing the basketball in his hand. “I take it you two are planning to shoot some hoops?”

      “Yeah.”

      Trent watched the exchange in amazement. The boy shared his mother’s smile. They obviously had a good relationship. And Trent liked that Austin had respect and manners. Back in Albuquerque, he’d encountered kids Austin’s age who thought they could say or do anything they pleased without any concern for others.

      “Will you be home for lunch?” she asked.

      Austin was already out the door. “Yeah. Zach and his parents are going to Montrose at noon.”

      “Good. Ellie Mae told me she wants you to take her for a walk.” She massaged the dog’s head.

      “Oh, Mom.” He waved, trotting up the alley, bouncing the ball as he went.

      Trent stared after him, his heart bursting with an emotion he’d never experienced before. Unequivocal and unconditional love for a boy he’d never even met.

      * * *

      Blakely watched after her son, then cut a fiery glare at Trent, pointing the impact wrench in his direction. “Don’t think I’m buying this bit about you being here as mere coincidence. But if you think you’re going to get your hands on Austin, you’re crazy.”

      “How could you not have told me, Blakely? You of all people—”

      “Is there a problem here?”

      Oh, no. Please, not now.

      Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Ross Chapman at the rear of the СКАЧАТЬ