Page 29 of Roaring Fork Rockstar (Roaring Fork Ranch #3)

KELTIE

T he night before we were scheduled to leave Children’s Hospital, I stood at the window of the apartment Sam and Beau had arranged for us, watching the city lights shimmer against the dark sky.

Two weeks had passed since we’d arrived—fourteen days that felt both endless and impossibly brief.

The good news was we were able to return home earlier than anticipated since Luna had responded well enough that the doctors decided she didn’t have to stay the full month.

Behind me, Holt was sprawled on the sofa, dozing while a mindless reality show played on the television.

He’d finally agreed to take a break from the hospital room after my father insisted he do so since he’d be staying the night with Luna.

The rotation had worked well—one of us was always with her while the others rested at the nearby apartment.

I’d just returned from checking on them, finding my daughter sleeping peacefully and my father settled in the recliner next to her bed, reading one of his paperbacks. The doctors were pleased with her progress, and tomorrow, we’d finally be taking her home.

“Sleep, darlin’,” Holt said, his voice thick with fatigue. I turned to find him watching me, blue eyes soft in the dim light. “Big day tomorrow.”

“I know.” I crossed the room and sank down beside him. “I can’t believe we’re finally going home.”

Holt got up, checked the locks, then turned out the lights once I made my way down the hall to the first of the two bedrooms. We paused outside the door.

“Thank you,” I said, the words inadequate for everything he’d done.

“For what?” he asked, reaching out to tuck a curl behind my ear.

“For being here. For everything.”

He smiled, leaning down to press his lips to my forehead. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

We’d both agreed that separate bedrooms made sense while we were here. Neither of us had discussed what would happen once we were back in Crested Butte. One day at a time had become our unspoken mantra.

Morning came quickly, and with it, the flurry of activity that accompanied our discharge. I arrived at Luna’s room by seven, finding my father teaching her how to play Go Fish with a deck of cards he’d bought at the gift shop.

“Mommy!” She brightened when she saw me. “I’m winning!”

“That’s because your abuelo lets you cheat,” I said, kissing the top of her head.

The hair loss had started a week after her first treatment. She’d been surprisingly resilient about it, especially after Holt brought her a selection of colorful bandanas.

Dr. Robbins arrived with a tablet in hand, reviewing Luna’s care instructions one final time. We stood near the doorway, looking over at my daughter.

“She did remarkably well with the first round,” she began. “Better than we expected, though the next two weeks will tell us more about how her body is responding.”

“What’s next?” I asked.

“Dr. Patel in Gunnison will coordinate with me. We recommend Luna stay at the hospital there for the five days of her next round, so we can monitor how she tolerates the second cycle. After that, if all goes well, the time she’ll have to stay will grow increasingly shorter.”

“Do I get to ride in a helicopter again?” Luna asked.

“Not this time, Unicorn Girl,” Holt said as he entered the room with coffee for all the adults. “We’re driving home.”

Luna considered this. “Can we stop for ice cream?”

“If your mom says it’s okay.” Holt glanced at me with raised eyebrows.

“We’ll see,” I replied, my standard answer when I was too tired to make decisions.

My father chuckled. “That’s what my mother always said to me when I asked for something. It usually meant yes.”

Dr. Robbins handed me a thick folder. “Everything is in here—medication schedules, signs to watch for, dietary recommendations, activity guidelines. Dr. Patel has all this information too, but I wanted you to have your own copy.”

I thumbed through the folder, overwhelmed by the volume of information. “Thank you.”

“And we should have the bone marrow compatibility results in another couple of weeks or so,” she added. “From you, your father, and Holt.”

The three of us had been tested the following day. A transplant wasn’t guaranteed, but having the results would prepare us for any decision that might come later.

“Any word from Luna’s father?” Dr. Robbins asked quietly, stepping farther away from where Luna was chattering with my dad about the stuffed animal hospital they planned to set up at home.

I shook my head, the familiar knot forming in my stomach. “Not yet.”

Holt had spoken with Ben, who’d talked to Remi.

The details of that conversation had been mostly kept from me, at my request. I knew it would be hurtful, and I was already carrying enough pain.

What Holt had shared was that the band would be taking a break from the tour the same day Luna was scheduled to start her next round of chemo.

With them returning to the States, there was hope Remi might agree to be tested then.

I wasn’t holding my breath.

The drive to Crested Butte took four hours, including a stop for the promised ice cream. Luna dozed for most of the trip. As soon as we turned off Cottonwood Pass and I saw the butte in the distance, I felt my shoulders relax. Home.

“I’m making chilaquiles tomorrow,” my father said, touching Luna’s cheek as we turned onto Elk Avenue—Crested Butte’s version of Main Street. “With the extra queso fresco you like.”

Luna clapped her hands. “With avocado too?”

“Is there any other way?”

She shook her head.

When our house came into view, I gasped. Someone had hung a hand-painted banner across the porch, its crooked letters spelling “Welcome Home Luna.” Wind-whipped balloons were tied to the railing, and the walkway stood freshly shoveled.

“Wow,” I murmured, taking in the sight.

Holt glanced over, a half smile forming on his lips. “I guess the town heard we were coming home today.”

The surprises continued once we were inside. Our refrigerator had been stocked with labeled containers, someone had swept the pine floors, and the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg permeated the air. A wooden crate sat on the counter, overflowing with toys and games for Luna.

“My family, the crew from the Goat, and several other locals pitched in—including Mrs. Lopez of course,” Holt explained.

I swallowed hard, trying to form words, but they stuck in my throat.

Holt and I followed Luna upstairs to her bedroom, which she inspected as though she’d been away for months instead of days. “It looks the same,” she said, sitting on the edge of her bed.

I glanced over at Holt, who stood in the hallway, looking at something on his phone. “I should head to the ranch,” he said, looking up at me.

A sudden unease hit me at the thought of him leaving. “I understand,” I said, wishing he didn’t have to go but knowing he’d already given us so much of his time.

When I stood to say goodbye, he opened his arms and I rested my forehead on his chest. “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Sleep if you can. I’ll let myself back in quietly when I return.”

Before he left, he tucked Luna into her bed, promising that, when she woke up, they’d work on their stories again.

While she didn’t say, “Promise?” like she usually did, she lifted her hand and Holt wrapped his pinky around hers.

He gave me a quick kiss goodbye, then went downstairs, where I heard him talking to my dad.

Since my room was right across the hall from Luna’s, I left both doors open, then fell onto the bed. My dad was staying in the guest room on the first floor, and since he was familiar enough with my house, I didn’t worry about him finding whatever he needed.

I’d drifted off, but my phone’s vibration jolted me awake. Miguel’s name lit up the screen.

“Hey,” I said in a gravelly voice.

“You home yet?” he asked.

“We are, and all I can say is you’re a godsend, Miguel.

Thank you for making our homecoming so wonderful.

How are things at the Goat?” While I’d checked in with him once a day while we were in Denver, our conversations didn’t last more than a couple of minutes.

Each time, he assured me everything was fine, and it had been enough for me. “I’ll be by later, okay?”

“The Goat isn’t going anywhere. Come in whenever you’re ready.”

After thanking him again and hanging up, I checked on Luna. She was sound asleep, like I soon hoped to be. Hearing my dad looking for stuff in the kitchen, I decided to check on him too. I found him gathering ingredients to make chilaquiles.

“Do you need me to run to the store?” I asked.

“No, mija . Holt said he’d pick up whatever I needed when he returns later.”

“He’s a good man,” I said, resting against the counter.

My father’s eyes met mine. “He loves you and Luna very much.”

I raised a brow. “He cares about us. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it love.”

He pulled out a chair at the table. “Sit before you collapse on me.”

I didn’t argue. I wasn’t sure I had the energy to walk up the stairs again.

“He feels the same as I did about your mother. I fell in love with Mary Grace the first time I saw her.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up a hand.

“There’s nothing to argue about, Keltie. If you don’t feel it yet, you soon will.”

“I—” Before I could say more, I heard Luna calling for me. I kissed my father’s cheek, then raced up the steps and sat beside her on the bed. “I’m here, sweetheart.”

“Mommy, do you think Mr. Holt could be my daddy?”

I’d say her question surprised me, but it didn’t. Given how close they were, I’d expected her to ask sooner.

“He’s a very special friend to us, Luna-bug.”

“But I want him to be more.”

I stroked her cheek with my finger. “I know, but for now, let’s accept he’s an important part of our lives and take it one day at a time.”

She sighed and turned to her side. “He said the same thing.”

I stifled a gasp. “Sweetheart, did you ask him to be your daddy?”

Luna shook her head. “No.”