Page 72 of Roaring Fork Rockstar

Holt smiled, understanding what I needed. “It was terrible. I was fourteen and thought I knew everything about heartbreak after Berta Thompson dumped me at the spring dance.”

“Let me guess—lots of references to tears and rain?”

“And broken hearts and empty promises,” he confirmed with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I played it for Flynn once, and she laughed so hard she almost choked on her cereal.”

I smiled despite everything. “What was the first good song you wrote?”

He thought for a moment. “Probably ‘Montana Sky.’ I wrote it after a road trip with Cord and Porter when I was nineteen. It was the first time I felt like I’d captured something real.”

“I’d like to hear it sometime,” I said, my eyes heavy.

“You will,” he promised.

We talked into the night, Holt telling stories about growing up on the ranch, about his brothers and sister, about his dreams for his music. I shared memories of my sound-engineering days, the bands I’d worked with before CB Rice, the thrill of crafting the perfect mix.

At some point, I moved to his lap and my head drooped against his shoulder. The last thing I remembered before sleep claimed me was the comforting weight of his arms.

I woketo new voices in the room. Luna was still asleep while Holt spoke with Dr. Robbins and a man I didn’t recognize.

“This is Dr. Bigsby, our transplant specialist,” Dr. Robbins explained when she noticed I was awake.

He stepped forward and shook my hand. “Hello, Ms. Marquez.”

“Keltie, please.” While I was able to speak a couple of words, my mind was reeling. Any hope I’d had of keeping Remi from knowingmydaughter, was gone. I had no choice, though. Hersurvival was all that mattered. Not my pride, not how much of an asshole he was. Nothing trumped Luna’s health. “How soon?” I managed to ask.

“Not immediately,” Dr. Bigsby assured me. “We’ll try to get her into remission with chemotherapy first. But I understand Dr. Robbins told you we’d like to start testing potential donors now, so we’re prepared if the time comes.”

“I’m ready whenever you are,” I said firmly.

Dr. Robbins put her hand on my arm like she so often did. “I understand this is difficult, but I highly recommend we test Luna’s biological father in the event you are not a full match.”

“We’ll make sure it happens,” said Holt, who stood quietly beside me.

“The testing process is like any other blood draw. We can do yours this morning if you’re ready,” Dr. Bigsby suggested.

“We’re ready,” I confirmed, grateful for the doctor’s professionalism.

After they left, I turned to Holt. “When do you have to leave?” I asked, too tired to count the hours since he’d arrived.

“About that…”

My eyes opened wide, and I gasped. Had he already been here over forty-eight hours?

He took my hands in his. “It’s good news. Buck spoke with the attorney, who, I guess, spoke with the trustee, who agreed to allow me to remain in Denver as long as necessary.”

“Holt, I don’t want you to feel as though you have to?—”

“Keltie, you and Luna mean the world to me, but I couldn’t be the one responsible for my siblings losing their inheritance. Buck has it in writing if you want to see it.” He winked.

“You’re telling me the truth?”

His relaxed expression tightened. “I will always tell you the truth. That’s a promise.”

Before I could say more, Luna stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “Mommy? Mr. Holt?” Her voice was raspier than usual, an early sign of the drugs’ effects.

“We’re right here, baby,” I assured her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“Can you hold me?”

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