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said Trent could stay for dinner.” Austin flopped onto the sofa.

      “Oh!” Blakely jumped and turned for the kitchen. “I almost forgot about dinner.”

      Trent excused himself and followed her, eager to find some way to ease the tension between them.

      He found her frantically wiping the stove top when he entered. “Anything I can do to help?”

      Halting midwipe, she hesitated before finally turning around. “Um...” Eyes wide, she bit her bottom lip. Something he found sweet and...surprisingly irresistible.

      He moved closer, intrigued as her gaze roamed his face, stopping at the scar on his forehead. Did she remember how it got there? That instead of holding that branch on their way up to Chief Ouray Mine, she’d let go. And five stitches later, she vowed to make him cookies twice a week until the end of August.

      She looked away. “Actually, it’s Austin’s job to set the table.”

      Unwilling to let the moment go, he stepped closer, eliminating what little space remained between them.

      “He’s a great kid, Blakely. You’ve done a fantastic job.”

      She glanced up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thanks.”

      * * *

      Blakely closed Austin’s bedroom window and waited for him to finish brushing his teeth. Despite the recent warming trend, overnight temperatures still tumbled into the low forties. She wasn’t about to risk him catching a cold.

      Picking up the red hoodie from the floor, she savored the scent of little boy before hanging it in Austin’s closet. What would she ever do without him? He was her world. What if Trent tried to take him away?

      Austin appeared then. Wearing only pajama bottoms, he scooted under the green camouflage comforter, leaving room for Blakely to sit beside him. “We should take Trent Jeeping sometime.”

      Blakely feigned interest. She was sick of hearing about Trent, though, she supposed, she’d better get used to it. “What makes you think he’d be interested in tagging along with us?”

      “He said so.”

      “Oh, he did, did he?” She straightened a stack of books on his headboard. What else might Trent instigate?

      “Yeah. He said he likes going over the passes and stuff, but he’s too chicken to drive.”

      She laughed. “Chicken? Was that your word or his?”

      “His. I bet he’d like that place we found last summer. You know, the one off the old road to Imogene. Where we found the mine.”

      “Hey, short man, what have I told you about those mines? All kinds of danger can lurk in those things.”

      “I know. But they’re so cool.”

      She ruffled his soft curls and kissed his cheek, thankful he still let her. “You need to get to sleep. It’s late, and we’ve got church in the morning.” Clicking off the lamp on his nightstand, she adjusted his covers one last time. “Sleep tight.”

      “Mom?”

      “Yes.” She waited at the foot of his bed.

      “So, can we take Trent?”

      “We’ll see.” It wasn’t like her to be so noncommittal, especially where her son was concerned. But Trent’s sudden appearance made it impossible to think straight.

      Descending the stairs, she wondered how she’d even begin to tell Austin about his father. And prayed Trent wouldn’t do so without discussing the matter with her first. When the time came, she’d make sure they told him together.

      Downstairs, Gran sat in her rocker, knitting, while a rerun played on the television. Jethro snuggled beside her, and Ellie Mae was passed out at the front door. Probably waiting for Trent to return. You’d think the guy had bacon in his pockets the way she behaved.

      “If you need me, I’m going to be taking a bath.”

      “Okay, dear.”

      Blakely retrieved her romance novel from the coffee table. She must enjoy torturing herself. Why else would she keep buying these love stories?

      “You handled yourself very well tonight.” Her grandmother twisted the needles and yarn.

      “It sure didn’t feel that way.”

      Gran peered over the top of her reading glasses. “You always knew this day might come.”

      “Yes, but I always thought I’d have time to prepare.” She swiped at her dirty jeans. “And that I’d be better dressed.” Which wasn’t fair when Trent always seemed to look breathtakingly handsome.

      Gran chuckled. “Well, I think we ought to give the young doctor a chance to prove himself.”

      “What?” Blakely lowered her voice to a whisper and dropped into the chair beside her grandmother. “How can you say that? After what he did to me?”

      “This isn’t just about you, dear.” Gran leaned closer, laying a hand on Blakely’s arm. “Yes, Trent made some bad choices. But you know as well as I do that we serve a God of second chances. Don’t be so quick to judge.” She winked. “You might miss a blessing.”

      Blakely shot to her feet. How dare Gran take Trent’s side. “Austin is my blessing. And I never missed a thing.”

      Chapter Five

      Blakely paced the empty Sunday School room. Out of the handful of churches in Ouray, what were the odds that Trent would show up at Restoration Fellowship? Now she faced the less-than-desirable prospect of sitting with him during worship.

      “What are you doing in there?”

      She turned to the voice coming from across the hall. Taryn Purcell, Ouray’s best mountain guide, stared over the Dutch door that led to the church nursery.

      “Just a little tidying up.” As if to prove her point, she snatched a bulletin from a metal folding chair and tossed it into the trash.

      Her friend lifted a brow. “Since when do you and four gray-haired ladies make a mess?”

      Blakely frowned, surveying the tiny room. Even the chalkboard remained pristine.

      “I guess I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Piano music drifted from the sanctuary as she flipped off the light and crossed to the brightly colored children’s area. Vrooms and crashing sounds echoed from the corner. Blakely smiled at two little boys playing cars. That had always been Austin’s favorite, too.

      “Must be an awful lot, then. It’s not like you to lag behind.” Taryn stooped to pick up the Flint’s two-year-old daughter clinging to her leg. “So what gives, Blakes?”

      Her friend knew her too well.

      The mural of Jesus and the little children on the opposite wall brightened what had once been a dingy, lifeless room. Hard to believe Austin was four when she painted that. Where had the time gone?

      Her attention shifted back to Taryn. “More than I care to go into right now.”

      “All right, then. How about after our practice session? Think you can squeeze in some extra girl time?”

      Blakely caressed the soft golden curls of the toddler in Taryn’s arms. “I was hoping you might be available.” Her secrets were safe with Taryn. Outside of Gran, she was the only one who knew the story of Austin’s father. And she understood better than anyone else ever could. No doubt she’d also have a thing or two to say about Ross Chapman.

      “You know I’m always here for you, Blakes. I’ll even bring chocolate.” Taryn’s smile glinted in her aquamarine eyes.

      “You’re on, my friend.”

      Notes

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