Roaring Fork Wrangler (Roaring Fork Ranch Book 1), page 15
Dr. Robbins was waiting in a small consultation room, a folder in her hands. Her expression was guarded as we entered, but something in her eyes told me what was coming.
“Please, sit,” she said, gesturing to the chairs across from her. “I have Luna’s test results.”
I gripped Holt’s hand, his fingers interlacing with mine as we sat.
“The bone marrow aspiration confirms what we suspected from the blood work,” Dr. Robbins continued. “Luna has acute lymphoblastic leukemia. I believe Dr. Patel told you it’s also referred to as ALL.”
I gasped and covered my mouth with my hands. Leukemia. My baby had cancer.
“I know this is devastating news,” Dr. Robbins said gently. “But I want to emphasize that ALL has one of the highest childhood cancer survival rates. With proper care, successful remission rates are approximately ninety-eight percent.”
“Care?” Holt asked, his voice steadier than I could have managed.
“We’ll start chemotherapy as soon as possible. The protocol for ALL involves several phases. The first phase—induction—is the most intensive, aiming to achieve remission within the first month. For that, we’ll keep her here at the hospital. Once we’re sure she’s handling it okay, you’ll be able to take her home. After that, the subsequent rounds can be handled on an outpatient basis.”
The clinical terms blended together as I struggled to process them.
“Will she lose her hair?” I asked, the question slipping out unbidden.
“Yes, it will cause hair loss. But children are remarkably resilient—often more so than we adults expect.”
The doctor continued explaining the potential side effects and success rates, but I could barely focus. Holt’s arm slipped around my shoulders, pulling me against his side when I started to tremble.
“I’ll let the two of you talk,” Dr. Robbins finally said. “I’ll be right outside if you have any questions. The nurse will have an information packet waiting in Luna’s room that explains everything in detail. We’ll meet again later to discuss the next steps.”
When the door closed behind her, I finally broke down. Holt held me, reminding me of the odds and assuring me that Luna would face this with her characteristic curiosity rather than fear.
Eventually, the storm passed, leaving me drained but calm enough to return to Luna’s room. I needed to be strong for my daughter. She’d take her cues from me.
When we walked in, my father took one look at my face and knew. His eyes filled, but he blinked the tears away before turning to face Luna, who was happily drawing more pictures.
“Look what I made!” she exclaimed, holding up a picture. “It’s Sparkles and me at the hospital. See the butterflies coming to visit?”
I swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “It’s beautiful, baby.”
“I’m going to hang it up so the doctors can see it,” she announced.
A nurse appeared with tape, helping Luna place her artwork on the wall beside her bed. My father used the distraction to pull me into the hallway.
“How bad is it?” he asked quietly.
“The doctor says the survival rate of the type of cancer she has is high—ninety-eight percent.”
“We will get through this, mija. All of us.”
My father’s gaze shifted to Holt, who was helping Luna with another drawing.
“He’s a good man,” Dad said simply.
“You’ve known him less than twenty-four hours,” I pointed out.
“I know enough.” His eyes met mine. “He looks at Luna the way I look at you.”
Before I could respond, the elevator doors at the end of the hall opened, revealing Sam and Beau, who spotted us immediately. Sam hurried forward to wrap me in a hug.
“Buck called us last night.” Her eyes searched mine. “How is she?”
“It’s cancer.”
Sam’s hand flew to her mouth. Beside her, Beau’s expression turned solemn.
“What can we do?” he asked.
“Being here is enough—”
“Keltie.” Sam cut me off gently. “I’ve been making calls. There’s an apartment building near the hospital that offers short-term rentals to families of patients. Beau and I made all the arrangements.”
The unexpected gesture left me momentarily speechless. “Sam, I can’t accept—”
“Please,” she said quietly. “Let us help make this at least a little easier on you.”
I felt the sincerity in her voice deep inside me. These people I’d only recently met were showing up when it counted most.
Beau cleared his throat. “I’ve also arranged for a private helicopter to be at your disposal with very little lead time. It can take Holt to CB when he needs to go, then fly him here afterward.”
I blinked in surprise. “That’s—you don’t have to—”
“It’s already done,” Beau said simply. “Just let us know when.”
We rejoined the others in Luna’s room, where Sam immediately went to Luna’s bedside while Beau approached Holt.
While the two men spoke quietly, I realized how long Holt had been here. With a sinking feeling, I remembered his conversation with Buck about the forty-eight-hour stipulation in the trust.
I moved to his side. “Holt, you have to go back to Crested Butte.”
He looked down at me, fatigue evident in the shadows beneath his eyes. “I’ll try to talk to the attorney, but it isn’t only the time away I’m dealing with. I have to play a minimum of three nights a week.”
“You need to leave now,” I said, though the words hurt to speak.
“I can’t—”
“You’ll be back as soon as you can,” Sam interjected. “Victor, Beau, and I will be here with Keltie and Luna.”
Holt’s jaw tightened, conflict clear in his eyes.
I led him into the hallway. “Look, I understand,” I told him, meaning it. “But I won’t let you risk the consequences of not adhering to the trust. Luna and I will be fine for a couple of days. We aren’t alone.”
“I can stay a few more hours.”
I raised a brow.
“I’ll still have time to get to CB. More if I take Beau up on his offer to fly me there.”
When we walked into her room and saw Luna was asleep, Holt led me over to one of the recliners, pulled me onto his lap, then shifted the lever to flatten it. “Close your eyes,” he whispered. “If Luna wakes up, I’ll tell you.”
When I felt Holt’s hand on my arm and heard him say my name, I realized I’d fallen asleep.
“I gotta go, darlin’. You call me immediately if anything changes. Anything at all.”
“I promise I will.”
Beau stepped forward. “The helicopter is ready whenever you are.”
Holt turned to Luna. “Hey, Unicorn Girl. I have to go to Crested Butte for a little while. But I’ll be here again tomorrow, okay?”
Luna’s lower lip trembled. “Promise?”
“Pinky promise,” he said solemnly, linking his little finger with hers. “And while I’m gone, maybe you can draw more pictures for our story?”
She brightened at this mission. “I will! The best pictures ever!”
I followed Holt into the hallway, where he pulled me into a fierce embrace. His kiss held everything I needed—promise, comfort, determination, and something deeper neither of us was ready to name. “We’ll be okay,” I assured him as we parted.
I watched him walk away, Beau at his side, until the elevator doors closed between us. Only then did I allow myself to acknowledge the hollow feeling his absence left—the space that, in the span of a few short days, had become his alone to fill.
18
HOLT
The helicopter flight from Denver passed in a blur of mountains and snow, my thoughts never leaving the hospital room where I’d left Keltie and Luna.
When we touched down, Cord was waiting for me at the edge of the tarmac. “Good to see you, brother,” he said as I slid into the passenger seat of his truck. “Though I wish the circumstances were better.”
I stared through the windshield at the road ahead. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
As soon as we pulled onto the highway toward Crested Butte, I fished my phone from my pocket and dialed Keltie’s number. I needed to hear her voice, to know if anything had changed in the hour since I’d left.
She answered on the second ring. “Holt?”
“Hey,” I said softly. “Just landed. How’s she doing?”
“The same,” Keltie replied, her voice heavy with fatigue. “She’s still sleeping.”
“Has the doctor been in again?”
“No. Nothing’s changed since you left.” There was a pause. “I’m glad you called, though.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I promised, meeting Cord’s understanding glance.
“I know,” she said quietly.
“Is there anything I can bring with me?”
“Just yourself,” she answered. “That’s all we need.”
“How are you holding up?” I asked, pitching my voice lower.
Her pause said more than her words. “My dad’s been great. And it’s nice to have Sam and Beau here. But… never mind, I shouldn’t say it.”
“Not what we agreed on, darlin’. Whatever it is, say it.”
“I know you just left, but I still wish you were here. I also know that isn’t fair.”
“I’ll call again after I finish up at the Goat,” I promised.
“Be safe,” she said softly before hanging up.
When I put my phone away, Cord kept his eyes on the road, giving me a moment to collect myself.
“How is she?” he finally asked.
“It’s confirmed—leukemia,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. “The doctors are moving quickly with the treatment.”
“God, man, I’m so sorry. Did they say how long she’ll need to stay in Denver?”
“A month. They’re focused on getting through the first phase of treatment.”
My cell rang, startling me, but when I looked at the screen, I saw it was Buck.
“Hey, we’re headed your way.”
“Good. Flynn’s got dinner ready at the main house. Everyone’s here.”
“Everyone?”
“Yeah. Porter, Cici, and Maverick drove over from Morris Ranch.”
I didn’t like the thought of everyone gathered, waiting for news. “Don’t forget I have to play at the Goat tonight.”
“Right. I’m sure Flynn can make you a plate to go, unless you’d rather eat there.”
I’d rather not eat at all, to be honest. “I’ll grab my truck and swing by. I won’t be able to stay long, though.”
“Understood, brother.” The resignation in Buck’s voice echoed my own.
Twenty minutes later, I parked in front of the main house, my exhaustion hitting me all at once. Before I could even reach the porch, Flynn swung the door open and raced over to me.
“How is she?” she asked, pulling me into a hug.
“Not great.” My voice caught. “They’ve confirmed it’s cancer.”
Her arms tightened. “That poor little girl.”
Inside, the scene was exactly as I’d imagined—my siblings and their partners were gathered in the great room, their faces turning toward me as I entered. No one was sitting around the dining table, though, and the casual way they lounged made it seem less like an ambush.
“Here.” Buck handed me a shot of whiskey as I sank into one of the armchairs. “You look like you need it.”
I accepted the drink, swallowing it before facing their questioning looks.
“I wish to fucking hell I was there instead of here.”
Porter eased off the sofa and walked toward me. “Merry Christmas, Holt. Sorry I missed it. Guess I should say happy New Year, instead.” When we embraced, he held on extra long, and I appreciated it.
“What can we do?” TJ asked, sitting beside Buck on the sofa, their fingers interlaced.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. This is all new territory for me.”
“For both of you,” Flynn added gently.
My throat tightened, thinking of Keltie trying to process all this medical information alone, making decisions about her daughter’s care. I’d texted her again before coming inside, but she hadn’t responded yet.
“I need to be in Denver,” I said.
“But first, you need to play tonight,” said Porter. “And we all plan to be there.”
I lowered my gaze. “You don’t have to do that,” I said, even though I’d love to have them there for support.
“We’re goin’,” said Buck, sounding a little too much like Roscoe. When his eyes met mine, we both chuckled. “Fuck, I sound exactly like the ol’ bastard,” he muttered.
“At least you don’t look like him,” Porter added.
“Ain’t that the truth?” said Cord.
“What our brothers are dancing around,” Flynn said, “is that we’ve figured out a way for you to be with Keltie and Luna while still satisfying the trust requirements.”
“I talked to Beau. It isn’t an issue to have the helicopter bring you here, touch down, then you leave again,” said Cord.
“That’ll be mighty expensive.”
Cord’s eyebrows flashed. “As Beau said, there’s no better use of his money, and just so you aren’t worried about it, the guy’s a billionaire.”
“Again, I appreciate it, but I can’t let him do that.”
Flynn stepped closer and put her hand on my arm. “Look at it this way. He isn’t doing it for you. He’s doing it for Keltie and Luna.”
Their immediate willingness to help struck a chord in me, and I realized she was right. If it meant I could be there with them, I could damn well lower my pride and accept Beau’s offer. “Thank you,” I said, looking around the room. “All of you.”
“When are you heading back to Denver?” Buck asked.
“The day after tomorrow, if I can arrange it.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Cord offered.
After a quick bite to eat, I drove myself to the Goat. As soon as I walked in, Miguel spotted me and lifted his chin in greeting. I made my way through the crowd toward him, acknowledging familiar faces but avoiding conversations.
“Didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Miguel said as I approached. “We don’t usually have music on New Year’s Eve. We leave the shindigs to the resorts.”
“Good night for me to play, then,” I muttered. “How’s business been?”
“Steady. We can handle things here. Don’t worry about the bar.” His expression turned serious. “How’s Luna?”
“Holding up better than any of us. She’s a tough kid.”
“Good with me if you only do one set,” he offered. “No offense, man, but you look like shit.”
“I feel even worse.”
After getting my mic and speakers set up, I glanced around the room. There were more familiar faces here than usual at this time of year. Locals tended to only come out once the skiers left. On the other hand, as Miguel said, the Goat wasn’t hosting an event tonight, so most everyone figured it would be quiet here.
I didn’t bother with my usual greeting. I simply began to play. I knew I’d need to mix in covers to keep the crowd happy, but I sure wasn’t in the mood for it.
The bar quieted for a couple of minutes, but then conversations picked up again. I was happy not to have all eyes on me tonight. When I finished the first couple of originals, I transitioned into old favorites that required little thought, allowing me to go through the motions while my mind remained in Denver.
Between sets, several locals tossed money in the tip jar. Plus, Stacey from McGill’s, Dave from the hardware store, Sheriff Kaleb, and Mrs. Winters from the elementary school all offered different kinds of help—watching the house, organizing fundraisers, and helping with the bar.
Their overwhelming support had me tearing up. “Thanks,” I managed.
Stacey handed me a small box. “This is for Luna. Coloring books, small toys. Stuff to keep her occupied in the hospital.”
“And this is for Keltie,” Dave added, passing me an envelope. “From folks around town. It’s not much, but it might help with expenses.”
My throat tightened at their generosity. While Crested Butte was my home, had been all my life, Keltie was a newcomer. That everyone cared so much about her and her daughter spoke volumes about how much of an impact they’d made on our small town in a very short amount of time.
I ended up playing my usual two sets, mainly because of how overflowing the tip jar was. I knew every penny was meant to help Keltie, and I sure appreciated it. My family contributed quite a bit too, including more than one hundred-dollar bill tossed in with the usual ones and fives.
Back at my cabin, I called Keltie. Her voice was heavy with exhaustion, but she shared that Luna was resting peacefully. When she mentioned that a representative from Miracles of Hope Children’s Charity would be visiting them, my attention sharpened immediately.
“That’s the charity named in my codicil,” I told her. “The one I have to donate to.”
“I forgot about that,” she said slowly.
“It’s too strange to be a coincidence,” I muttered. “There’s something going on here that I don’t understand yet.”
We talked for a few more minutes, both of us exhausted but reluctant to disconnect. We whispered how much we missed each other and finally said good night.
After we hung up, I found myself too restless to sleep despite my exhaustion. Damn, if that charity—the very one named in my codicil—didn’t keep popping up. Why? I pulled out my laptop and settled on the sofa to research more about the organization I was required to support.
Their website was professionally designed, with pages about their mission, programs, donation options, and a brief history. I clicked on the “About Us” section, scanning for any clues that could explain why my inheritance and that of my siblings would all go to them should I fail to fulfill my part of the trust’s stipulations.
“Founded in 1993 by an anonymous donor,” I read aloud, “specifically to help children with leukemia and their families in the Crested Butte area.” That it mentioned the same disease Luna had fucking rattled me.
