Page 51 of Roaring Fork Rockstar

As afternoon turned to evening,I made my way over to check on Luna during a brief lull. Her coloring had slowed, and she looked up at me with heavy-lidded eyes.

“You tired, Luna-bug?” I asked, brushing a curl from her forehead. The warmth of her skin made me pause.

“A little,” she admitted, leaning into my touch. “My tummy feels funny.”

I pressed my palm more firmly against her forehead, confirming what I already suspected. She had a fever—not high, but definitely there. I glanced toward the bar, where three deep lines of customers waited for drinks.

“How about some apple juice?” I suggested, keeping my voice light.

Luna rested her head on her arms. “Yes, please.”

I hurried behind the bar, grabbed a plastic cup with a lid, and filled it with juice. Miguel glanced at me, then toward Luna.

“She okay?” he asked, mixing two cocktails simultaneously.

“Low-grade fever,” I said quietly. “Nothing serious, but I should probably get her home.”

Before he could respond, a group of rowdy guys I recognized from ski patrol approached the bar, calling for a round of shots. I handed them off to my other bartender and rushed over to Luna with the juice and medication from Dr. Patel after I’d measured the dose carefully into a small cup.

“Here you go, sweetie. This will help you feel better.”

Luna took the medicine without complaint, a sure sign she wasn’t feeling well.

I glanced at the crowded bar, then at my daughter. The responsible choice was clear—I needed to take Luna home, but leaving now would mean Miguel would be shorthanded.

“Everything okay?” Holt asked, appearing next to me. His eyes moved from Luna’s flushed face to the medicine cup in my hand.

“Another fever,” I explained, keeping my voice steady despite the worry gnawing at me. With the Denver appointment looming, every spike in temperature felt more ominous.

Holt crouched beside Luna’s chair. “Not feeling too great, huh, Unicorn Girl?”

Luna shook her head, then looked up at him with her enormous brown eyes. “Can you tell me more of Sparkles’ story? The one about the magic flower?”

“I’d love to,” he said gently. “But I think we should get you home and into your pajamas first. Stories are always better in pajamas. Don’t you think?”

Luna nodded solemnly, as if this was a universal truth she’d always known.

Holt straightened and turned to me. “I’ll take her to your place.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” I protested. “You’re supposed to be playing tonight.”

“I’ve already done my first set,” he pointed out. “That counts for my trust requirements. And wouldn’t Luna feel better climbing into bed?”

I hesitated, glancing around at the packed room. Losing Holt’s music would disappoint the customers, but my daughter had to come first, even if I wasn’t the one to put her there.

“Come on, Keltie. Let me do this.”

“You’d need her car seat.”

“I know where it is,” Luna piped up, her voice small but determined. “And Mr. Holt makes the best soup, Mommy, and I’m hungry.”

More guilt settled on my shoulders. She usually didn’t like to eat when she wasn’t feeling well, but I should’ve asked.

Holt’s eyes met mine over Luna’s head. “I’ll take good care of her. You know I will.”

And the thing was, I did know. Despite how short a time we’d known each other, I trusted him with my daughter in a way I’d never trusted anyone besides family.

“Okay,” I relented, brushing Luna’s cheek. “But call me if her fever goes up even a little or if anything seems off.”

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