Page 32 of Roaring Fork Rockstar (Roaring Fork Ranch #3)

She rolled her eyes in a perfect imitation of her mother. “ Of course I want to play, but I don’t want to miss hearing my song.”

I laughed, relieved. “Tell you what—once I’m warmed up and your mom’s ready, you and I will lay down the first tracks together. Okay? You can sit right next to me.”

Her face lit up. “Really?”

“Really,” I confirmed.

“If I knew the words, I’d sing along, but I haven’t heard them yet.” That statement sounded more like her abuelo than her mother.

“It’s our story, Luna. You know all the words.”

“So it’s okay if I sing?”

“Sing, giggle, squeal—whatever you’re feeling.” I glanced over at Keltie, who gave me a thumbs-up.

Bridger arrived a few minutes later.

“Thanks for coming,” I said, clasping his hand. “Keltie, Luna, this is Bridger—Kingston West. He works at the ranch.”

“We met your mother in Denver,” Keltie said, extending her hand. “She’s been incredibly helpful.”

Bridger’s expression softened. “Mom mentioned meeting you.”

“Echo told us the charity was originally called Scarlett’s Hope,” I added, studying his reaction.

Other than a quick flicker in his eyes. There wasn’t one. The guy probably won every hand of poker he ever played.

“Luna, would you like to play with Caden’s horses? She’s been excited about meeting you all morning,” said Liv.

Luna looked torn, glancing between me and the little girl arranging stuffed animals on a blanket nearby.

“We’ll start recording soon,” I assured her. “But there might be boring grown-up talk first.”

“Okay.” Luna’s eyes brightened. “But you’ll call me when it’s time for my song?”

“Promise,” I said, linking my pinky with hers.

Just as Luna joined Caden, Ben walked in.

“Hey, I thought you were on tour,” I said, walking over to shake his hand.

“I come home every chance I get. We’re off tonight, so I’ll fly out in the morning. Perks of having my own plane.”

“Did the rest of the band return with you?” I asked, noting how Keltie’s shoulders had tightened.

“Nope. Just me. They and the crew can do the heavy lifting. I’m getting too old for that shit.” He looked over to watch Keltie’s fingers trail over the equipment, muscle memory evident in the way she adjusted dials without thinking.

“Still remember how to use this?” Ben asked.

“Still? I never used this stuff. Crazy how things change in five years.”

“You’ll pick it up in no time. I mean, you’re engineering this session, right?”

Keltie laughed. “I was going to until you showed up,” she teased. “Now, I might be too nervous.”

Ben shook his head. “From what I remember, you’ve got a hell of an ear.”

I watched Keltie’s expression change—her uncertainty fading as she took her place at the mixing board, checking levels and adjusting settings.

“Let’s test the mics,” she said, all business now. “Holt, can you give me a sound check?”

I grabbed my guitar and headed into the recording booth, unable to suppress my smile at her commanding tone. This was a side of Keltie I hadn’t seen before. Sure, she was in control at the bar, but this was different. She belonged here. I hoped soon she’d realize it too.

For the next two hours, we worked on Luna’s song.

Keltie’s suggestions subtly improved the arrangement, her technical expertise apparent in every adjustment she made.

Luna sat beside me for the first recording, her face a picture of wonder.

Keltie captured every reaction, every soft gasp, delighted giggle, and when she got close enough to the mic to sing along.

By midafternoon, Luna’s energy was visibly waning despite her determination to stay involved. Victor caught my eye, motioning to his granddaughter’s drooping shoulders.

“Luna-bug,” he said gently. “Perhaps we should head home so you can rest before dinner?”

To my surprise, Luna didn’t argue. “Okay,” she said, yawning. “But Mr. Holt, can I hear the song when it’s finished?”

“You’ll be the first person who gets to,” I promised.

After they left, we continued recording, with Bridger adding subtle harmonies that enhanced the track beautifully. His deep baritone complemented my voice in ways I hadn’t anticipated, adding depth to the chorus.

“That’s it,” Keltie said through the intercom after our third take. “That’s the one.”

She spent another hour working her magic on the soundboard, and when she played the final version, I choked up. Luna’s song, now professionally recorded, with her reactions woven throughout, transforming it into something both polished and personal.

“It’s perfect,” I said, squeezing Keltie’s shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

She blushed, ducking her head. “It’s your song. I just helped capture it.”

Ben insisted on playing it through the studio’s main speakers. “This is fantastic, Holt. We gotta get more of your stuff recorded. You’re a damn good songwriter.”

My phone buzzed with Buck’s name on the screen. “Excuse me a minute,” I said, stepping into the hallway to take the call.

“How’s it going?” my oldest brother asked.

“Great. We’re at Ben’s studio, recording Luna’s song.”

“I won’t keep you, but I wanted you to know that Decker’s been digging into Miracles of Hope,” Buck continued. “Not much luck so far. It was definitely set up anonymously, with multiple layers of legal protection.”

“Just like the trust,” I muttered.

“Took the words right outta my mouth. Anyway, I wanted you to know I heard from him, and he said he’d keep digging. I’ll keep you posted.”

After hanging up, I found Bridger and Keltie deep in conversation about mixing techniques. Ben had disappeared, presumably to check on his daughter.

“Got what we need?” I asked, placing my hand on the small of Keltie’s back.

“I think so. Bridger was showing me a new compression technique.”

The guy inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Your girlfriend’s got serious skills.”

“Don’t I know it,” I replied, unable to keep the pride from my voice.

We wrapped up the session, thanking Ben and Liv for their hospitality before heading to our vehicles. Bridger’s truck was parked next to mine, and as he unlocked it, I took a chance.

“Hey, uh, when you heard the name Scarlett, it seemed to mean something to you,” I said casually.

His hand paused on the door handle, shoulders tensing. “Nope,” he muttered before climbing inside the cab.

“He’s lying,” said Keltie when I turned around and saw her standing right behind me.

“I think so too. I’ll keep pestering him until he talks.”

Keltie shook her head and laughed. “Good luck with that.”

The ride to her place was quiet, both of us processing the day. Keltie reached over, her hand finding mine on the console between us.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For today. For everything.”

I squeezed her fingers. “No need to thank me.”

“I know, but…” She paused. “Being in the studio again, doing what I love—it meant more than I can say.”

I lifted her hand to my lips. “You were brilliant. Watching you work was incredible.”

Victor and Luna were waiting when we arrived, Luna clutching a new stuffed horse that must have been a gift from Caden.

“Did you finish my song?” she asked immediately.

“We did,” I confirmed, lifting her into my arms. “And it’s amazing, thanks to your mom.”

Luna beamed. “Can I hear it?”

“Tomorrow,” Keltie said firmly. “After dinner and a good night’s sleep.”

Luna pouted but didn’t argue, another sign of how tired she truly was.

After we’d eaten and Luna got ready for bed, Victor retired to the guest room, leaving Keltie and me alone in the living room. The moment the doors closed, she was in my arms, her mouth finding mine with urgent hunger.

“Let’s go to bed, cowgirl,” I said, lifting her into my arms and carrying her up the stairs. Once in the room, we shed our clothes between desperate kisses. As soon as we were both naked, she pushed me down and straddled me.

“Keltie, God,” I groaned when she ripped open a condom, rolled it on me, then lowered herself onto my hardness. “Fuck, you feel good.”

I reached up and palmed her breasts, tweaking her nipples between my fingers. She picked up her pace, grinding her body on mine until I was as deep as I could go. Then she’d ease all the way up, only to do it all over again.

“You’re driving me wild, darlin’.” My teeth clenched. “I’m not gonna last.”

“I don’t want you to.”

I gripped her waist, holding her still as an orgasm shot through my body.

“Holt,” she cried out, clenching me so hard as she came with me.

“Stay tonight?” she murmured against my chest.

“Try to make me leave,” I replied, stroking her hair.

When we eventually slipped beneath her sheets, she curled against me, her breathing slowly evening out as sleep claimed her.

“ Holt? Holt, wake up.”

Keltie’s voice broke through the nightmare, her hand cool against my face. I jerked awake, heart pounding and sweat cooling on my skin.

“You were having a bad dream,” she said, her brow furrowed.

I pulled her close, burying my face in her hair as the remnants of it clung to me. A hospital room. My mother. The tiny, sick baby in her arms.

“I dreamed about my mom again,” I whispered. “She was holding an infant who was very sick. But this time”—I swallowed hard—“she called the baby Scarlett.”

Keltie’s eyes widened in the darkness. “Scarlett’s Hope,” she whispered.

I nodded as her words sent a chill through me.