The Doctor's Family Reunion. Mindy Obenhaus

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 Jeep Wrangler, scrutinizing her first, then Trent.

      Despite the color leaching from her face, she turned Ross’s way. “Not at all.”

      Neatly bearded with an ever-expanding paunch, the annoying Texan moved closer and extended his hand toward Trent. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Ross Chapman.” His crooked smile reminded her of a politician or unscrupulous salesman. Ever ready, usually insincere.

      Trent hesitated before acknowledging the gesture and introducing himself. Apparently even he sensed the guy was a creep.

      “Dr. Lockridge was just leaving.” A stern glare accompanied her formal reference.

      Straightening, Trent appeared to regard her with a challenge of his own. “Yes. I believe we’re finished. For now.”

      He got points for knowing when to walk away. Then again, he was good at that, wasn’t he?

      Blakely tempered her anger and addressed her next problem.

      “What can I do for you, Ross?”

      He moved in her direction, eyeing the battered tour vehicle. “Heard you had a little accident the other day. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

      If he thought she’d believe that, the man was delusional.

      “Good thing you weren’t carrying a bunch of tourists.”

      She rested her elbow on a stack of tires. “You know, Ross, that’s one difference in how you and I do business. To you, they’re merely tourists. To me, they’re guests.”

      “Call ’em what you want. We both rely on them to pay our bills.” His gaze roved the truck again. “Word travels fast in a small town. Sure hope this doesn’t hurt your business.”

      Panic and anger burned a trail from her belly to her throat. Still, there was no way she’d give him the satisfaction of losing her cool.

      “I’m not worried.” Willing her body language to follow suit, she shifted the power tool to her left hand and held out her right. “Thank you for your concern, Ross.”

      His green eyes narrowed, drawing his bushy eyebrows closer together.

      Obviously, her reaction wasn’t what he’d expected.

      Good.

      Ignoring her outstretched palm, he exited the garage.

      Blakely turned back to the Jeep, feeling as though she might collapse. Her insides were as unsteady as a Tilt-a-Whirl. Would Ross really slander Adventures in Pink? What if Trent tried to take Austin?

      No. She wouldn’t allow either one to happen.

      Locking the impact wrench over a lug nut, she let it whirr. Tears stung her eyes. Her worst nightmares were coming true.

      With the wheel secure, she rested her forehead against the black rubber. I can’t do this, Lord.

      How would she ever find her footing when everything kept crashing in around her?

      She sniffed. She had to find a way.

      Because she could not—would not—lose her son or Granddad’s business.

      Chapter Three

      Trent wandered the streets of Ouray until the noon whistle pierced the air the way regret pierced his heart. Austin had been forced to pay the price for his indiscretions. Trent knew all too well what it was like to grow up without a father, and he had vowed no child of his would ever suffer the same fate. That’s why he’d married Lauren in the first place. Even though he’d loved Blakely.

      He meandered up the steep slope of Eighth Avenue, the roaring current of Cascade Falls drowning out all other sound. Too bad it didn’t cover the turmoil thundering through him.

      Hurt and anger were still at loggerheads over Blakely’s decision not to tell him about Austin. Was it because she didn’t want him to feel trapped? Or maybe she didn’t find out until after he was married. Whatever the case, she’d kept him from knowing his son.

      Guilt twisted his insides. He could only imagine the challenges she’d faced as a single parent. It couldn’t have been easy, raising a child alone.

      He plunked down on a boulder near the falls and watched the water plummet to the raging stream below. The turbulence mirrored his mood.

      Sunlight sliced through a canopy of ponderosa pine and aspens as giggles drew his attention to a couple of kids leaping from rock to rock.

      “Stay away from that water,” the mother warned her wayward children.

      While his little sister complied, the young boy inched ever closer, an adventurous smile firmly in place. With a quick lunge, his father grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away.

      “Come along, son. Your mother wants to get our picture.”

      Trent envied the scene. His life could have been so different. Full instead of empty.

      I’ve