rock. “I thought Dan explained that. I work at the clinic.”
“Since when?”
He looked at her now. “Since Monday.” Was it her imagination or did Trent’s shoulders drop a notch?
“Well, you’re not working on me.” Simmering anger and more what-ifs than she could count propelled her toward the SUV. A few swift steps into her escape, though, her head swam. Flashes of white light darted through her vision. She tripped.
“Easy.” Strong hands grabbed her by the arms and kept her steady until she regained her wits. When she did, she quickly extricated herself from Trent’s grasp.
“Looks like somebody’s had a little too much excitement.” He turned to Dan. “Let’s get her to your truck.”
To her dismay, they flanked her, wet gravel crunching in surround sound. Her mud-covered jeans had begun to dry and were slapping against her legs like a sandwich board. Miserable. And oh so unattractive.
Dan opened the door and Trent offered his hand to help her inside. She ignored the gesture. The last thing she needed was help from Trent Lockridge.
“You probably ought to give her a once-over, Doc.” Dan adjusted the brim of his faded Broncos cap. “Rose Daniels would have my head if I let anything happen to her granddaughter.”
Great. Trapped between two wannabe heroes.
She settled sideways in the backseat, keeping her filthy duck boots on the threshold. “I’m fine.”
“What were you doing up here anyway?”
“Checking out the four-wheel drive.” Not to mention venting after Ross Chapman’s visit. Still, with all the rain they had yesterday, she should have been on the lookout for rock slides.
“And?”
“Works just fine.” She glanced over the edge. “Or did, anyway.”
“Let’s just be grateful you’re okay.” The sincerity in Trent’s expression sparked something deep inside of her, but she stomped it out like a wayward ember on parched grass. After all, he was a married man. Along with a multitude of other things.
“He’s right.” Dan visually scaled the face of the mountain. “Things could have been a lot worse, regardless of how well you know these roads.”
Focusing on her grubby hands, she picked at the dirt imbedded under what little fingernails she had. “How long do you think the truck will be out of commission?”
Dan shrugged. “Can’t say until we get it back to the shop.”
While Trent disappeared around the back of the vehicle, she slid the elastic band from her ponytail. “Were you able to call the wrecker?”
Dan nodded. “Promised to get up here as soon as possible.”
“Good.” She worked her fingers through the tangled tresses. “What do you think the odds are of us keeping this little faux pas under wraps?” In a town as small as Ouray, news like this spread faster than butter on a hot griddle. Damage control would be imperative.
“I’ll certainly do my part.”
Blakely grimaced and sucked in a sharp breath. Pain radiated from a hefty lump on the left side of her head. Regrettably, Dan caught her pained expression, too.
He inched closer, his hazel eyes narrowing. “Uh, Doc, I think we’ve got a problem.”
“It’s nothing. Really. Just a little bump.”
Trent pushed in front of Dan and set a small bag on the floorboard. “Why don’t I have a look? Just to be safe.”
“She’s all yours, Doc. I’m gonna go check on the truck.”
“Be careful,” she said as Dan turned away. “The gas smell was pretty strong.”
“Did you shut off the ignition?”
She cringed. That should have been her first instinct. She shook her head. “Guess I wasn’t thinking.”
“Gee, I can’t imagine why.” With a quick smile, Dan disappeared over the ledge, leaving her alone with the one person she never wanted, or expected, to see again.
Trent’s broad-shouldered physique hovered over her now, so close she caught a whiff of his aftershave.
“Where does it hurt?”
She pointed to the side of her head, eager to be anywhere but in Trent’s presence.
His fingers ran along her scalp, unleashing a flood of emotions.
“Ow!” She thrust a protective hand over the sore spot. But as Trent’s deep-brown gaze collided with hers, long-suppressed memories escaped the darkened corners of her heart.
The heady rush of first love. The crushing blow of betrayal.
* * *
They say time heals all wounds. Evidently, eleven years wasn’t long enough.
Trent recognized the hurt and trepidation in Blakely’s blue eyes. Pain that had nothing to do with her head.
“You’ve got a goose egg the size of Mount Sneffels.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad.” She waved a dismissive hand through the air.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He pulled a penlight from his breast pocket. “Look straight ahead.”
As much as he’d tried, Trent had never forgotten Blakely or that summer. When they finally said goodbye, they were counting the days until they could be together again.
Unfortunately, that never happened.
Instead, she got a phone call and news that he was marrying his ex-girlfriend.
The memory clamped around his heart.
If only it had been Blakely who carried his child instead of Lauren.
He flicked the tiny beam in and out of her line of vision. “Dan tells me you have The Jeep Company now.”
“You mean Adventures in Pink.”
He chuckled. “That’s...interesting.”
Her gaze remained fixed somewhere over his shoulder. “More than interesting. We’re Ouray’s premier adventure destination. And we’ve got the best maintained vehicles in town. Besides, real men aren’t afraid of pink.”
He pocketed the light again, his gaze drifting toward the ledge. “I don’t expect you’ll be using that one anytime soon.”
Her shoulders slumped, her long golden waves tumbling around them. “Unfortunately.”
He took a step back. “Without turning your head, I want you to follow my finger.” He moved it back and forth, up and down.
“So...you live in Ridgway?”
“Ouray, actually.” The picturesque town was what had enticed him to take the temporary job.
Her eyes widened. “With your family,” she said more as a statement than a question.
He dropped his hand, wishing he could turn back time and erase the pain he’d caused Blakely. “My wife died two years ago.”
She straightened. “What about your children?” She shook her head. “I mean, child?”
“Lauren miscarried shortly after we married.” Then proceeded to inform him she wasn’t interested in having children at all. Robbing him of the only thing he wanted more than becoming a doctor—a family.
“I see.” Blakely’s brow furrowed, her full lips pursed. A reaction he only wished he could interpret.
“Anything besides the dizziness I should be aware of? Any nausea?”
“No.”