Page 31 of Roaring Fork Rockstar

Sam touched my arm gently. “Holt mentioned she hasn’t been well. If there’s anything I can do…”

“Thank you,” I said, surprised by how much the offer meant. “Actually, I’d love to hear more about your family—our family.”

Sam led me to a window seat overlooking the snow-covered landscape. “I never met my grandmother Pilar—she died before I was born. My mom didn’t talk about her much,” Sam said. “My grandfather’s mother forced her to leave when she was pregnant with my mom.”

I gasped. “Forced her to leave?”

Sam’s expression was somber. “Family drama from another era. I didn’t know any of this until recently. It’s why my mom and I struggled so much—she grew up without a dad, like I did.”

The parallels to our situation weren’t lost on me. “I worry about the same thing happening with Luna.”

“She won’t have the same struggles we did,” Sam said with unexpected fierceness. “She has you, and now, she has all of us too.” She gestured around the room. “They can be overwhelming sometimes, but they’re loyal to a fault once they consider you one of them.”

“It might be a little soon for that.”

“You don’t know the Wheatons.” Sam’s gaze moved to Holt, who was helping Buckaroo with a new toy. “I’d say at least one of them definitely does.”

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. “It’s not. I mean, we barely know each other.” Again, I heard those words coming out of my mouth.

“As I said before, sometimes, that doesn’t matter.” Sam said with a knowing smile. “Beau and I were friends for years before everything changed in an instant.” She twisted the engagement ring on her finger. “When you know, you know.”

“I have Luna to consider. My business. Eventually, he’ll resume his music career.”

Sam’s eyebrow raised. “Has he told you about the trust?”

“Yes, last night. How it’s keeping him here instead of touring with CB Rice.”

“You know what I think?” Her voice dropped. “I’ve known the Wheatons for less than a year, but I’ve never seen Holt look at anyone the way he looks at you.”

Before I could respond, Luna came bounding over, breaking the moment. “Miss Sam! Can you help me name my unicorn? Mr. Wheaton says you’re good at names.”

Sam laughed, reaching out to touch one of Luna’s curls. “I’m terrible at names, but I’d be happy to help.”

As they discussed what to call my daughter’s precious, new stuffed animal, my gaze drifted to Holt, who stood across the room. As if sensing my attention, he looked up, our eyes meeting over the holiday chaos. Something silent but that felt significant passed between us.

Later,as the children played with their new toys and the adults cleaned up the wrapping-paper chaos, I found him alone in the kitchen.

“This is too much,” I said, touching the pendant at my throat. “I can’t accept it.”

“Might not be easy to return it to Santa. You know how he is about things like that.” He smiled. “It’s called ‘River Under Moonlight,’” he said softly.

I felt emotion rise in my chest, and my words stuck in my throat.

“As soon as I saw it, I knew it was meant for you.”

Without thinking, I rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, both of us surprised by the impulsive gesture. Before either of us could speak, Flynn entered the kitchen.

“There you are,” she said brightly. “TJ’s asking if anyone wants to go sledding before lunch.”

“Sounds fun,” Holt replied, his eyes never leaving mine. “What do you think, Keltie?”

“I should call my father first,” I said. “Wish him Merry Christmas.”

“Take all the time you need,” said Flynn. “I’m thinking after lunch would be better anyway.”

I slipped out onto the porch, wrapping myself in a thick wool coat I found hanging by the door. Snow fell gently from a pearl-gray sky, the landscape stretching, pristine and white, in every direction. The contrast between the quiet outside and the joyful chaos within struck me as I dialed.

“Merry Christmas,mija!” my father’s voice boomed through the phone.

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