The Doctor's Family Reunion. Mindy ObenhausЧитать онлайн книгу.
cool. I still think they should have flames, though.”
A sudden burst of laughter had him choking and coughing. “You may be on to something, buddy.” His voice cracked as another cough escaped.
“You okay?”
Was that a note of concern in Blakely’s query?
“Raise your arm over your head,” said Austin.
Trent swiped a napkin across his mouth, blew out a slow breath and took another drink. “I’m okay.” He cleared his throat one more time. “But I’d have to agree with Austin. I think flames might be just the right touch.”
She lifted a brow. “Uh...no.”
“Here we are.” The waitress placed each order in front of its owner.
“Wow.” Trent stared at the half-pound buffalo burger on his plate. “Now that’s what I call a burger.”
“Wait till you taste it.” Austin chomped on a French fry.
“Anything else I can get you folks?”
“No, I think we’re good.” With the waitress gone, Trent glanced at Austin then Blakely. “Shall we pray?”
Blakely grabbed Austin’s hand. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Austin stretched his other hand across the table toward Trent.
The simplest of gestures, yet one that meant so much.
He clasped Austin’s hand, then offered Blakely his other.
The softness of her touch sent a wave of awareness through him. And, for a split second, it was as though they were a family.
Dreams he’d tucked away long ago drifted to the surface. Could he still have the one thing that had eluded him all his life?
Maybe...if he wasn’t going back to Albuquerque at the end of the summer.
Unfortunately, he’d made commitments that demanded just that.
Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it’s the Lord’s purpose that prevails.
The verse played across his mind as he blessed their meal. God had a plan. He knew about Austin long before Trent did. It was Trent’s job to trust God to work things out according to that plan.
Attacking the massive buffalo burger, Trent savored the perfectly seasoned meat.
Austin swallowed his first bite of the burger. Licked ketchup from his fingers. “Mom, did you know Trent had a horse?”
“No, I didn’t.” She dared to meet the man’s gaze. “I don’t imagine Vivian is letting you keep that at the inn.”
“No.” He smiled. “She’s part of an equine therapy program in Albuquerque.”
“Trent said he’d take me riding sometime.”
He cut a quick look at Austin. “If it’s all right with your mom.”
Now they both stared at Blakely as another waitress skirted past carrying a large food-laden tray.
“That’d be fine.” She gripped the first of her two fish tacos. “As long as you wear a helmet.”
“A helmet?” Trent and Austin blurted at the same time.
“Mom, I’d look like a dweeb.”
Trent pointed to the photos on the wall. “John Wayne never wore a helmet.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t John Wayne’s mother.”
Multiple conversations and the clanking of silverware and dishes filled the subsequent silence.
“I’ll think about it,” Blakely finally said, brightening Austin’s mood.
He straightened, a smile lighting his face. “It’s not as dangerous as the fire hose water fights.”
“I love the fire hose fights.” Trent set his burger down, recalling the only Independence Day he’d ever spent in Ouray but would always be remembered as the best. “Next to the fireworks, that’s the best part of the Fourth of July.”
Austin leaned his arms on the table. “I know. And Mom’s gonna be in ’em again this year.”
His gaze shifted to Blakely. “You mean you’re in the fire hose fights?”
Her chewing slowed. She nodded.
“Yeah. She did it last year. Only her team lost,” Austin filled in for her.
“We’re planning on a different outcome this year.” She reached for her water. “Taryn and I have a new strategy.”
“Which is...?” Trent lifted a brow in anticipation.
“Pffft. Like I’d tell.” And there it was. The old playful Blakely he’d fallen in love with. Her guard was down, and she was enjoying the banter.
“You shoulda seen it, Trent. Mom had like this giant black bruise on her leg.”
“Sounds kind of dangerous.” He turned a concerned eye her way.
“Not really.”
“Yeah. She’s a tough cookie.” Austin smiled up at her.
She winked. “That’s what Granddad used to say.”
Austin’s attention shifted back to Trent. “My mom does ice climbing, too. And she’s an artist.”
Trent didn’t need Austin to tell him how wonderful his mother was. He knew firsthand. And, if he had his way, he wouldn’t mind getting to know Blakely all over again. But that would require forgiveness. Something she wasn’t likely to offer him anytime soon.
* * *
Heat rushed to Blakely’s cheeks until she was, no doubt, as red as Trent’s button-down shirt. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what her son was up to. The kid was trying to fix her up with Trent. Never had she seen him so enamored with someone.
Staring at her second taco, she all but lost her appetite. The little guy didn’t have a clue. All he knew was that he liked Trent. Enough that he wanted to play matchmaker for his mother.
“Fancy running into you folks again.”
Blakely jerked her head up to find Ross Chapman standing next to them. Beside him, his daughter, Nicole, struck a pose in her hip-hugging jeans and too-tight T-shirt.
Blakely’s first taco morphed into a lead weight in her stomach.
“Ross.” She forced herself to blink. “Nicole.”
Trent stood. “Mr. Chapman. Nice to see you again.”
“No need to be formal. Call me Ross.” He swiveled toward the young woman. “I’d like you to meet my daughter, Nicole.”
Slightly younger than Blakely’s twenty-nine years, Nicole was her daddy’s pride and joy. And forever trolling for a husband. Preferably one with big biceps and an even bigger wallet.
Blakely stole a glance at Trent. Hmm...a doctor would fit that bill just fine. And Trent certainly had the biceps. The man obviously never missed a workout.
The platinum blonde struck a flirtatious pose and held a perfectly manicured hand in Trent’s direction. “I hear you’re a doctor.”
Bingo!
“That’s correct.” Trent barely shook her hand. Then again, it was kind of like shaking hands with a wet noodle.
Nicole’s gaze lingered a little longer than necessary—stirring emotions Blakely refused to own up to—before turning her heavily made up face Blakely’s way. “Blakely. Austin. Good to see y’all.” If that Texas twang got any thicker it would drip like honey.
“You, too.” Blakely nudged