Page 68 of Roaring Fork Rockstar

“What conditions?” I demanded.

“I can’t say. But the trustee does have a message for you.” His tone shifted, becoming more formal. “If you could come to my office tomorrow morning?—”

“I’m needed in Denver,” I cut him off.

“This is important, Holt.”

“So are they,” I retorted. “Either tell me over the phone, or I’ll call you when I’m in Crested Butte again—within forty-eight hours, of course.”

“But—” Six-pack began.

I hung up, my patience gone. The phone immediately rang again. I stared at Six-pack’s name on the screen before sending it to voicemail.

Whatever the trustee wanted, it would have to wait. I had more important matters to attend to—a brave little girl fighting for her life and the woman I was falling in love with, who needed me by her side.

19

KELTIE

The constant beep of Luna’s heart monitor provided a steady backdrop to our new reality. I’d memorized every detail of her hospital room in the three days we’d been here—the faded blue curtains that never fully blocked the hall light, the squeaky hinge on the bathroom door, and the way the third ceiling tile from the window had a water stain shaped like Texas.

My father dozed in the recliner near Luna’s bed, his head tilted at an angle that would guarantee neck pain when he woke. Sam had left to grab lunch for all of us, insisting we needed to eat something other than vending-machine snacks.

I stretched my stiff muscles and checked my phone. Holt had texted that he’d be here this afternoon. The empty space he’d left behind was startling in its intensity, considering how recently he’d entered our lives.

“Mommy?” Luna’s voice was small but clear. I moved to her side in an instant.

“I’m here, baby. How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she replied, her eyes sleepy, but alert. “When can we go home?”

“Soon,” I promised, the word intentionally vague. “The doctors are helping you get better.”

My father stirred at the sound of our voices. “There’s mycorazón,” he said, leaning forward to take Luna’s hand. “Would you like to hear more stories about when your mama was little?”

A soft knock interrupted us, and Dr. Robbins entered with a nurse I hadn’t met before, who motioned for me to join them.

“How are you doing?” the doctor asked.

“As well as can be expected.”

“We’ll be starting Luna’s first chemotherapy session tomorrow morning,” she said gently. “But before we discuss that further, there’s someone here to meet you.” She gestured to a woman waiting behind her. “This is Echo West from the Miracles of Hope Children’s Charity.”

The woman who stepped forward was slim, with an elegant bearing. Her long gray hair was pulled back, and her green eyes held a depth of compassion that felt genuine.

“Ms. Marquez,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m so sorry about Luna’s diagnosis. I’d like to talk with you about how our organization can help.”

“Um, sure, thanks,” I stammered, attempting to steady my voice. I stuck my head in the room. “Dad, do you mind staying with Luna while I speak with Ms. West?”

My father waved me off, already launching into another story.

“This way, and please call me Echo,” the woman said, leading me to the same private room where Holt and I had met with Dr. Robbins the first time.

Once seated, with the door closed, she placed a folder on the table between us. “Miracles of Hope was created specifically to help families like yours,” she explained. “Children who live in the Crested Butte area and have been diagnosed with certain kinds of blood cancers.”

“That’s… very specific,” I commented, thinking of what Holt had mentioned about the charity being named in his trust.

“We’ve since branched out to help families facing other illnesses, but the organization was founded by a mother who lost her child to the disease. She wanted to ensure no family had to face a financial burden on top of an emotional one.”

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