Page 85 of Roaring Fork Rockstar

“Sing, giggle, squeal—whatever you’re feeling.” I glanced over at Keltie, who gave me a thumbs-up.

Bridger arrived a few minutes later.

“Thanks for coming,” I said, clasping his hand. “Keltie, Luna, this is Bridger—Kingston West. He works at the ranch.”

“We met your mother in Denver,” Keltie said, extending her hand. “She’s been incredibly helpful.”

Bridger’s expression softened. “Mom mentioned meeting you.”

“Echo told us the charity was originally called Scarlett’s Hope,” I added, studying his reaction.

Other than a quick flicker in his eyes. There wasn’t one. The guy probably won every hand of poker he ever played.

“Luna, would you like to play with Caden’s horses? She’s been excited about meeting you all morning,” said Liv.

Luna looked torn, glancing between me and the little girl arranging stuffed animals on a blanket nearby.

“We’ll start recording soon,” I assured her. “But there might be boring grown-up talk first.”

“Okay.” Luna’s eyes brightened. “But you’ll call me when it’s time for my song?”

“Promise,” I said, linking my pinky with hers.

Just as Luna joined Caden,Ben walked in.

“Hey, I thought you were on tour,” I said, walking over to shake his hand.

“I come home every chance I get. We’re off tonight, so I’ll fly out in the morning. Perks of having my own plane.”

“Did the rest of the band return with you?” I asked, noting how Keltie’s shoulders had tightened.

“Nope. Just me. They and the crew can do the heavy lifting. I’m getting too old for that shit.” He looked over to watch Keltie’s fingers trail over the equipment, muscle memory evident in the way she adjusted dials without thinking.

“Still remember how to use this?” Ben asked.

“Still? I never used this stuff. Crazy how things change in five years.”

“You’ll pick it up in no time. I mean, you’re engineering this session, right?”

Keltie laughed. “I was going to until you showed up,” she teased. “Now, I might be too nervous.”

Ben shook his head. “From what I remember, you’ve got a hell of an ear.”

I watched Keltie’s expression change—her uncertainty fading as she took her place at the mixing board, checking levels and adjusting settings.

“Let’s test the mics,” she said, all business now. “Holt, can you give me a sound check?”

I grabbed my guitar and headed into the recording booth, unable to suppress my smile at her commanding tone. This was a side of Keltie I hadn’t seen before. Sure, she was in control at the bar, but this was different. She belonged here. I hoped soon she’d realize it too.

For the next two hours, we worked on Luna’s song. Keltie’s suggestions subtly improved the arrangement, her technical expertise apparent in every adjustment she made. Luna sat beside me for the first recording, her face a picture of wonder. Keltie captured every reaction, every soft gasp, delighted giggle, and when she got close enough to the mic to sing along.

By midafternoon, Luna’s energy was visibly waning despite her determination to stay involved. Victor caught my eye, motioning to his granddaughter’s drooping shoulders.

“Luna-bug,” he said gently. “Perhaps we should head home so you can rest before dinner?”

To my surprise, Luna didn’t argue. “Okay,” she said, yawning. “But Mr. Holt, can I hear the song when it’s finished?”

“You’ll be the first person who gets to,” I promised.

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