What about you?
She took a deep breath. From all appearances, Trent was the whole package. But appearances could be deceiving, and that made her reluctant to act on her feelings. Feelings that seemed to be getting stronger every day.
Turning her back on the guys, she climbed the handful of steps and unpacked their sandwiches from the deli. A grilled cheese for Austin, a southwest turkey for Trent and her favorite, the turkey cranberry on an asiago bagel.
In the week since Trent had moved in, life hadn’t changed as much as she’d feared. He was gone most of the day, arriving home an hour or so before closing time. But he always came in to ask about her day and if there was anything he could do to help her out.
Austin, however, usually met his father the moment he stepped out of his truck and they’d spend a couple hours playing or talking, simply getting to know one another.
She smiled, shaking her head. Trent looked so weary some nights, yet he always had time and a smile for Austin. A trait she found endearing.
Opening a small bag of potato chips, she popped one in her mouth. All in all, this had been a stellar week. She’d hired a new guide, tours were up and Ross Chapman hadn’t dropped by once. Maybe the guy had given up.
Now, if only she were as adept on the administrative side of things, life would be perfect. As it was, spreadsheets and anything having to do with taxes and payroll were the bane of her existence. Her office desk had so many piles, she wouldn’t see the beautiful oak finish until December.
“What does your mom have to say about this?” Trent’s voice was followed by the slamming of the door.
Austin rounded the corner first, looking freshly scrubbed and wearing a clean shirt. “She said it was okay.”
“What did I say was okay?” She handed Austin his sandwich and a bag of Cheetos.
“To take Dad Jeeping on Father’s Day.”
“Ah.” She passed Trent his lunch before grabbing her own. “Yes, Austin said he wanted to do something nice for your first Father’s Day. And, since he’d mentioned earlier that you liked Jeeping, we thought you might enjoy a day in the mountains.”
His slow smile had her scurrying back to the reception desk to eat. “That sounds amazing. A day in the mountains with my two favorite people.” The look he sent her made it impossible to think.
Luckily, Austin picked up the conversation from there, telling Trent all the things he wanted to show him, while Blakely concentrated on her sandwich.
“Did you restock the refrigerator, Austin?” Finished, she balled the paper wrapping and tossed it in the wastebasket under the counter.
“With water and sodas.” Austin finally took a bite of his sandwich. Too much chattering, not enough eating.
“Good deal.” A strange odor touched her nostrils as she came around the desk. “Do you smell something?”
A few feet away, Trent sniffed. “Yeah. Smells like—”
“Fire!” Seeing the smoke-filled garage, Blakely practically threw herself down the handful of steps.
Trent and Austin were right behind her.
On the other side of the glass door, smoke billowed through the shop. Her heart pounded as she blew through the door. Fumes stung her eyes and burned her throat.
She reached for the fire extinguisher hanging on the wall beside the door, then whirled toward Trent. “Get your truck out of here. Austin! Outside!”
“But, Mom!”
“Go!”
Trent tossed the boy into the truck ahead of him. Slammed the vehicle into Reverse.
Coughing, she aimed the extinguisher at a pile of rags. What few flames there were quickly succumbed to the white foam. Still, she wasn’t about to take any chances.
The red extinguisher hissed as she fingered the trigger again, its foamy contents coating tools, tires and more. She choked.
Trent jerked the extinguisher from her hands. “Go!” He shoved her toward the door.
The now-white smoke followed her into the alley, the breeze quickly whisking it away.
Blakely gasped for air. Coughed. Gasped again as Trent emerged from the garage.
“That was scary.” Austin’s eyes were as big as hubcaps.
“Yes, it was.” Blakely hugged him close.
“The important thing is that we’re all safe.” Trent coughed.
She couldn’t disagree there.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw people gathering near the corner of the building. Heard their murmurs. Guests for the one-thirty tour.
Oh, no.
“Just a little mishap, folks.” Ross Chapman herded them toward the front door. “Nothing to worry about.” He turned to Blakely. “If you need to deal with things, though, Mountain View Tours would be happy to cover for you.”
Trent glared at Ross. “Don’t worry, Chapman. We’ve got things covered.”
Ross started to walk away, then turned, flashing her guests a dazzling smile. “If any of you folks feel uncomfortable, come on up to Mountain View Tours. We’ll take good care of you.”
His parting words settled in the pit of Blakely’s stomach. Luckily, not one guest took him up on his offer. And although she’d calmly recited her spiel to her guests and sent them on their way with the guide, inside she was wound up tighter than a pair of Nicole Chapman’s jeans.
Her breathing intensified. The garage was filled with petroleum products. There could have been an explosion. Austin. The apartments. People could have been killed.
Gasping for air, she dropped into her chair. How could this happen?
She tried to catch her breath but couldn’t.
“Blakely?” Trent stepped in front of her.
“I—I can’t...breathe.”
“You’re hyperventilating.” He rubbed her shoulders. “Calm down. Concentrate on your breathing.”
“I...can’t.” She felt like a Jeep had been dropped on her chest.
His hands left her. Paper crinkled.
“Here.” He shoved the paper bag from lunch into her hands. “Hold this over your nose and mouth and try to breathe normally.”
He stroked her back and, with a great deal of effort, she followed his instruction. “Where’s...where’s Austin?”
“I sent him home. I had a feeling you might crash and burn once the tour left. Figured you wouldn’t want him to see.”
Since when did he know her so well?
Her air intake finally evened out and she removed the bag. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Concern puckered his brow as he continued to watch her.
What would she have done without him?
Deciding some things were better left unexplored, she stood and returned the bag to the trash. “Have you had a chance to investigate? See what happened out there?” She poked a thumb toward the shop.
“Not yet.”
“Shall we then?” She led the way into the garage. Though the air had cleared, the unmistakable smell of smoke still lingered.
Trent’s gaze scanned the plethora of tires and chemicals. “Good thing we caught it early. If this had gotten out of control—”
She held up a hand. “Do you want me to start hyperventilating again?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Sorry.”
They stopped beside the partially burned pile of oily rags and knelt for a better look. The workbench and everything around them was covered in white film. Aside from that, things looked pretty much unscathed.
“Uh-oh.” Frustration lined Trent’s face as he reached into the center of the pile and picked up what had once been the droplight. “How could I have been so careless?”
“You?”
He held up the light. “This was my fault. I should have made sure Austin took care of this properly.” He raked his free
hand through his hair. Groaned. “From the looks of things—” he glanced at the rags “—it was still on.”
While Blakely tried to follow his train of thought, she knew he was mistaken. “No. Austin did take care of it. I saw him.”
Trent’s eyes went wide. “You did?”
“Yes. He laid it on the workbench.” She pointed just above their heads.
Trent looked as dumbfounded as she felt. “So how did it—?”
Their gazes collided.
Blakely felt the blood drain from her face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That it could have fallen?”
“Or somebody moved it.” Blakely pushed to her feet.
Trent did, too, all the while eyeing her suspiciously. “I’m not following you.”
“How was it that Ross just happened to be passing by?”
“Blakely, I appreciate you trying to let me off the hook, but do you really think Ross would do something like this?”
“I hope not.” But seeing how the guy didn’t like the word no, she wasn’t about to put anything past him.
* * *
“There’s a package for you, Dr. Lockridge.”
Over the gray Formica counter, Trent eyed the bulky express envelope in the receptionist’s hand. “Would you mind holding on to that for me, Judy, until I’m finished with my next patient?”
“Sure thing, doctor.” She set it aside as he grabbed a file folder and started down the hallway at the clinic.
The day he and Scott had plotted and planned for years had finally arrived. He remembered the first time they walked into the beige stucco office building. They’d looked at dozens of buildings, but that one just felt right.
Until now.
One well-baby check, an ear infection and a bee sting later, he retrieved the package from the front desk.
For the umpteenth time, his phone vibrated in his pocket. And for the umpteenth time, Scott’s name appeared on the screen.
“Hey, guy.” Trent slipped into the clinic’s small break room at the back of the building, pleased to find it empty.
“Finally,” said Scott. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”
He glanced at the round wall clock. Eleven-fifteen. “I may not be in Albuquerque, but I still have to work, you know.”
“Did you get the papers?”
“I’m holding them in my hand.” He thumped the package against his thigh.
“You know you have to have them notarized, right?”
His friend was the driving force propelling their dream into reality. Without Scott’s vision and take-charge attitude, Trent never would have been able to pull this off.
And Scott can’t do this alone.
He slumped against the wall. “I do.”
“Once the title company gets them back, I can pick up the keys and we can really get this ball rolling. Rebecca settled on gold, by the way.”
“Gold?”
“For the walls. Golden Garden she called it. I don’t know—still looks beige to me.”
Trent laughed, recalling his conversation with Blakely when he was picking out stuff for his apartment. “Well, whatever it is, I have no doubt Rebecca will do a fine job.”
“So...when are you going to sign those papers?”
He smiled at one of the nurses who came to refresh her coffee. “I have one more patient before lunch. Maybe I can break away—”
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, buddy.”
His heart felt like an anvil. “Never.”
“We’ve both got a lot riding on this. The sooner we finish these renovations, the sooner we can start helping folks.”
He checked the clock again. “Speaking of which, I need to get to my next patient.”
* * *
When Trent finally took a seat at the bank’s shiny desk, the midday sun was beating down on the jagged Sawtooth Range.
It wasn’t like he was turning his back on Austin, right? Six hours wasn’t so bad. Trent could make the drive once a month. At least that was his plan.
Still, he wanted so much more—ball games, homework, those spontaneous visits to the ice cream parlor...Blakely.
He picked up the pen and scrawled his signature wherever the sticky yellow arrows pointed, then left before he could change his mind.
Too bad his head and his heart were no longer on the same page.
Chapter Fifteen
Trent couldn’t think of any place he’d rather spend his first Father’s Day than riding through the mountains with the boy who could be his clone laughing in the backseat.
Praise You, Lord.
The sun shone brightly as Blakely drove the pink Jeep over the winding, craggy roads. More than once they had to stop for what she referred to as road maintenance, removing large rocks or other debris from their path.
Above the timberline, lingering snow clung to mountainsides, while below the runoff cut a swath through pine-tree-carpeted slopes.
“How high are we?” Holding on to the roll bar, he glanced at Blakely.
She eyed Austin in the rearview mirror. “Would you like to guess?”
The boy studied their surroundings. “Ten thousand feet?”
“Very good.” Pride was evident in his mother’s smile.
“How much farther?” Trent had heard Austin talk about this place for the past week, but he didn’t have a clue as to its whereabouts.
Sporting a mischievous smile, Blakely whipped the vehicle off of the main road and onto a narrow trail. “You’re worse than a ten-year-old.”
Austin grinned.
Up ahead, a stream surged over rocks, veering left and right, before drifting along a gentle straightaway. Budding wildflowers nestled among its stony banks, beauty among the chaos.
Trent braced himself, fearing Blakely would plow through this stream the way she had that one a few weeks ago. Instead, she came to a stop before reaching the water.
Austin launched himself over the edge of the Jeep. “You gotta come see this, Dad. Mom and I were up here last year, and we found this old mine. It’s not even boarded up like most of them.”
“That sounds great, but we still need to be careful.” Trent shut his door behind him, eyeing the thinning spread of towering pines that paved the way toward snowcapped peaks. “There’s a reason most of them are off-limits.”
“I know.”
Reveling in the crisp mountain air, he met Blakely at the back of the Jeep and grabbed the picnic basket while she tucked an old quilt over her arm. “Where to?”
“How about over there?” She pointed to a level spot a few feet from the water’s edge.
Following her, watching Austin balance across a log, his smile bright as the sun, Trent felt like the luckiest guy in the world. This was his dream. Family. A mom, a dad and their son enjoying a Sunday afternoon together. Nothing could be better.
Except maybe to have Blakely as his wife.
But his decision to follow his head ensured that wouldn’t happen.
He shook away the remorse. Nothing was going to ruin this day.
“Come on, Dad.”
He eyed Blakely. “Are you coming?”
She hugged the quilt to her chest. “I’ll catch up.”
Trent followed his son over boulders and around trees.
“The mine shafts look kinda small, but inside they could be huge.” Austin flung his arms through the air. “The miners would tunnel up and down and across. Sometimes there’d be big caves. They’d even keep their mules inside.”
Trent ducked under a low branch. “And all with nothing more than candles to light their way, right?”
“Yeah.” Austin dodged around a mud puddle. “One guy would hold this big steel rod—
” he held his hands about two feet apart “—and the guy with the hammer would aim for the shine. That’s what they called the spot where the candle on his helmet would reflect off the head of the spike. Then the guy holding the rod would give it a turn and wait for the next hit, until they had it deep enough to shove in a stick of dynamite.”
“Guess you’d better trust the guy doing the swinging.”
Austin laughed. “Yeah.”
Winded, Trent struggled to keep up with his energetic son. “How do you know so much about mining? Did they teach you in school?”
The boy shrugged. “A little. I just like it. They have this really cool exhibit in the basement of the museum. You can learn all kinds of stuff about mining. And Mr. Jenkins is there sometimes. He used to be a miner. Whenever he talks, I just listen.”
As they rounded a mound of crushed rock, the mine shaft came into view. About the size of a large door, the rectangular opening cut a couple dozen feet into the side of the mountain. Ice clung to the entrance, though some had broken free, crashing to the floor in a slushy mess.
Austin picked his way closer. “Cool, isn’t it?”
Running a hand along the rough edges of the rock, Trent eased inside far enough to know he shouldn’t risk going any farther. He peered into the utter blackness, realizing someone had blasted this hole out of the face of the mountain. Something he found eerily fascinating.
“And then over here...” Austin pushed the limb of a pine tree out of his way and continued farther into the woods.
Trent took one last perusal of the shaft, then followed Austin’s trail through a thick cluster of pines. At a small outcropping, Austin waited. When he saw Trent, he pointed below to the remnants of an old stamping mill. No telling how many years the thing had been there, surviving countless winters and avalanches.
“I think the guys who had that mine brought the ore down here for stamping.” Austin looked up at Trent, excitement gleaming in his big brown eyes. “That’s how they got the gold out of the ore. These big hammers would go up and down—” he demonstrated with his fists “—smashing the rocks.”
“Yes, Ouray didn’t used to be the quiet little town you see now.”
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