Page 22 of Roaring Fork Rockstar (Roaring Fork Ranch #3)

“About whether you’re fulfilling the stipulations. Playing three nights a week, donating half your earnings.” Cord stomped snow from his boots before stepping into the warmth of my cabin. “I don’t know if he’s got someone breathing down his neck about it or if he’s being his usual asshole self.”

I hung my coat on the hook by the door, then moved to stoke the fire I’d banked earlier. “Did you have to deal with this shit?”

Cord shook his head, settling onto my sofa. “It was more complicated with me cuz of the accident.”

“Right. Sorry, man.”

“You didn’t have a premonition about that, did you?”

“If I had dreamed you were ambushed out in a snowstorm and left for dead, I sure as hell would’ve warned you.”

“Good to know.” He chuckled, but then his expression grew more serious and he rested his elbows on his knees. “Now that you mention having these visions or whatever, I’m wondering if there’s more to all this than we’ve realized.”

The flames intensified, casting shadows across the cabin walls. “Like what?”

“Maybe Mom’s trying to communicate with you.”

I barked out a laugh. “From beyond the grave? Come on, Cord.”

He shrugged, unperturbed by my skepticism. “Stranger things have happened. And you’re the one having prophetic dreams.”

I couldn’t argue with that logic, annoying as it was. “Either way, I’ll be more careful about documenting my performances. Make sure there’s no question that I’m meeting the requirements.”

“Good idea.” Cord stood, heading for the door. “One more thing—Sam wanted to know if you’re okay with her going to Denver tomorrow.”

The reminder stung. “Why?”

Cord studied me. “Why what?”

“I guess you shared my reaction with her.”

He picked up his hat and stuck it on his head. “Juni did.”

I raised a brow. So Cord told Juni, Juni told Sam. Had Sam told Keltie? “Not really my call, is it?” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice, but something must have shown in my expression.

“For what it’s worth,” Cord said, his hand on the doorknob, “I think Keltie would want you there if she thought she could ask.”

With that cryptic statement, he left, the door closing quietly behind him.

I stood in my cabin, suddenly unable to remain apart from Keltie and Luna for another minute. Decision made, I grabbed my keys and headed out into the cold afternoon.

Keltie’s house glowed warmly against the approaching dusk as I pulled into her driveway. I sat in my truck briefly, mustering my resolve before walking to the front door and knocking.

Her face when she opened the door was a mixture of surprise and—to my relief—genuine pleasure. “Holt! I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I probably should have called,” I stammered. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all. Come in.” She moved aside, allowing me into the entryway. “Luna’s watching a movie. She’ll be thrilled to see you.” Keltie glanced at where her daughter was stretched out on the sofa. “Or she would be if she hadn’t fallen asleep.”

I followed her into the dining room, noticing the scattered papers on the table.

“I’ve been trying to get organized for tomorrow,” she explained. “Making sure I have everything we need for the appointment.”

“Let me help,” I offered, moving to sit in the chair beside her. “I’m pretty good at checklists.”

She raised a brow. “You are?”

My cheeks flushed. “Organization is kind of my thing. People don’t expect it because of the whole musician vibe, but I like having my ducks in a row, as they say.”

Keltie handed me a notepad with a half-completed list. “Be my guest.”

For the next twenty minutes, we worked together, creating a checklist of everything she might need—medical records, insurance information, comfort items for Luna, and snacks for the drive.

“This is really helpful,” Keltie said when we finished. “Thank you.”

I steeled myself for what I needed to say next. “Cord told me Sam’s going with you tomorrow.”

Keltie’s expression clouded. “Yes, she offered when I mentioned the appointment the other night at the Goat. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” I said quickly, though the hurt lingered. “I understand why you’d want her there.” I took a deep breath. “I want you to know I’d like to be there too. For both of you. But I understand if that’s not what you want.”

She frowned, setting the list aside. “What do you mean, ‘not what I want’? Holt, I haven’t heard from you in two days. I thought maybe you needed space after… the other night.”

“I thought you needed space. I didn’t want to crowd you, especially with everything happening with Luna.”

A small laugh escaped her. “So, we’ve both been sitting around, waiting for the other person to call?”

“Seems that way,” I admitted, reaching for her hand. “I’m sorry. I should have checked in. I missed you both.”

Her fingers interlaced with mine. “We missed you too. Luna kept asking when ‘Mr. Holt’ was coming to see us.”

Guilt washed over me. “I really am sorry.”

“No, I understand. We’re, uh, a lot.” She shook her head. “I should have reached out too. I guess I was afraid you’d been scared off.”

“You’re not a lot in a bad way. I mean… Shit, Keltie, I’d be with you every minute if you’d let me.

” I squeezed her hand. “But if we’re being this cautious about calling each other, we’re gonna have communication problems. How about we agree to say what we’re thinking?

If one of us needs space, we tell the other person directly. ”

A small smile played at her lips. “I’d like that. And for the record, I would love if you came to Denver with us tomorrow.”

Relief washed over me. “Then, it’s settled.”

“What should I do about Sam?” Keltie asked.

“The more support you have, the better,” I assured her.

Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”

Before I could respond, Luna got up from the sofa and her eyes lit up as soon as she saw me.

“Mr. Holt!” she exclaimed, running over and climbing up on my lap. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting and waiting!”

“I’m sorry, Unicorn Girl,” I said, guilt intensifying at the genuine hurt in her voice. “I had some grown-up things to take care of.”

She frowned. “Grown-up things are boring. We missed you.” She fixed me with a serious look. “Did you miss us too?”

“More than you know,” I said honestly.

That seemed to appease her. “Good. Because I made something for you.” She slid off my lap and ran up the stairs, returning a couple of minutes later with a drawing clutched in her small hands.

She held it out, and on it was a small girl with wild, dark curls riding on a mystical creature with a rainbow mane streaming behind them.

“See?” Luna said, pointing. “We’re riding to the magic flower that makes people better.”

My throat tightened as I examined the drawing. “It’s beautiful, Luna. Thank you.”

“I want you to have it,” she said earnestly. “So you won’t ever forget about me.”

Her words had me close to tears. I glanced at Keltie, whose expression mirrored my own distress.

“I could never forget about you, Luna,” I promised, gathering her into a gentle hug. “Not ever.”

When I released her, she studied my face with solemn brown eyes that seemed too old for her years. “Pinky promise?”

I extended my little finger, linking it with hers. “Pinky promise.”

Satisfied, Luna turned to her mother. “Mommy, can I have ice cream? Please?”

Keltie smiled, clearly relieved by the change of subject. “Just a small bowl. It’s almost dinnertime.”

As Luna skipped off to the kitchen, Keltie turned to me. “I know we’re laying on the guilt pretty thick.”

“I deserve it,” I said ruefully. “I should have called. No matter what I thought you might need.”

She gestured to the paperwork on the table. “I’m not used to having someone to share the load.”

“You do now,” I said firmly. “If you want me to be that person.”

Her smile was answer enough.

From the kitchen came the sounds of the freezer door opening and drawers being pulled out in search of a spoon.

“She’s got such spirit,” I said, lowering my voice. “It’s one of the things I love most about her.”

Keltie’s eyes warmed at my words. “She does. She’s always been that way—determined, brave.”

“She gets it from her mother,” I pointed out, earning another smile.

A thought occurred to me, something I’d been considering since my visit to Ben’s studio. “Keltie, what would you think about helping me produce my album? Not right away,” I hastened to add, seeing her surprised expression.

“I—” she began, but was interrupted by a harsh coughing sound from the kitchen.

We both turned to see Luna standing in the doorway, one hand pressed to her chest, the other still holding a spoon. Her face was flushed, her breathing rapid.

“Luna?” Keltie was on her feet immediately, racing to her daughter. When she placed her hand on Luna’s forehead, her face paled. “You’re burning up.”

I watched in dismay as Luna’s legs weakened, her small body collapsing against her mother. Instantly, I moved to them, catching Luna as another deep, wracking cough shook her entire frame.

“We need to get her to the hospital,” I said, scooping her into my arms. Her skin was hot to the touch, her breathing becoming more labored with each passing second.

Keltie raced for her purse and keys. “The emergency bag is by the door,” she instructed, her voice tight with fear.

I carried Luna to my truck, holding her against my chest as Keltie grabbed the car seat. The little girl’s eyes appeared unfocused, vacant.

“It’s going to be okay, Luna,” I said softly, helping Keltie secure her into the booster seat. “We’re going to get you help.”

As we accelerated toward Gunnison Valley Hospital, Luna’s labored breathing filled the truck’s cabin. I gripped the steering wheel fiercely. “I swear when she was sitting on my lap, she didn’t feel warm at all.”

“It comes out of nowhere sometimes,” Keltie said from the backseat, where she sat holding her daughter’s hand and murmuring reassurances that didn’t reach her tear-filled eyes.