Page 25 of Roaring Fork Rockstar

“The trust is managed by an LLC we know nothing about. Six-pack—our family attorney—claims he doesn’t know who’s behind it. He gets instructions and delivers them to us.”

“Six-pack?” Her mouth quirked up at the nickname.

“Yeah, we’ve known him since high school. He’s as much of a jerk now as he was then.”

“And he won’t tell you who’s pulling the strings?”

“Claims he doesn’t know.” I rolled my shoulders as the frustration of the past months bubbled up again.

Keltie moved her hand, resting it on my arm. “But your brothers all found happiness because of it, didn’t they? Maybe it’s not such a bad thing.”

The trust had always felt like a manipulation, a final control tactic from beyond the grave. But she wasn’t wrong. Each of my brothers had found something—someone—that had changed their lives.

“Maybe you’re right,” I conceded. “But I hate the way he or she is going about it.”

“Sounds like you and your siblings might have control issues,” she said with a smile.

“Ya think?” I chuckled. “It’s the Wheaton family’s specialty.”

Her laugh was warm and genuine, drawing me in even further.

“So, what’s your stipulation? What do you have to do?”

“Stay in Crested Butte for a year. Like my brothers had to adhere to, I can’t leave town for more than forty-eight hours at a time. On top of that, I have to play music at local establishmentsat least three nights a week and donate half my earnings to the Miracles of Hope Children’s Charity.” I shrugged. “That’s it.”

“That doesn’t sound so terrible,” Keltie said.

“It wouldn’t be, except it meant turning down the tour with CB Rice. That was my shot, you know? The kind musicians dream about. International venues, recording contract, the chance to finally make a name for myself beyond local bars.”

“I understand,” she said quietly.

“I never dreamed they’d ask me to join them, especially after they hit it big.”

“How did it come about?”

“About four years ago, Ben Rice called me after seeing me play at the Goat. Our families have known each other for years. One thing led to another, and I became a permanent member. They’ve even recorded a couple of my songs. Now, it’s all over. They’ll replace me, and that will be that.”

“What happens if you don’t meet the requirements?” Keltie asked.

“We lose everything. Not only me. My brothers and sister too.”

She winced. “That’s harsh.”

The weight of the day crashed over me. “The thing is, it’s not only about us. The ranch supports families who have worked for us for decades.”

“A lot of pressure,” Keltie said softly.

“No more than running a bar and caring for a sick child on your own,” I countered, immediately regretting bringing up Luna’s illness when her expression tightened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted. “It’s not like I can ignore it. The appointment is set for December 30.”

I wanted to ask more—about what else the doctor had said—but her exhaustion was evident in the circles beneath her eyes and the slump of her shoulders.

“Anyway, it’s getting late.”

She covered her mouth when she yawned. “Thank you for telling me all this. I feel like I understand your family better now.”

“There’s more, but we’ve got time.” The words slipped out before I could consider their implications—that I was assuming we’d have more nights like this, more conversations by the fire.

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