Roaring Fork Wrangler (Roaring Fork Ranch Book 1), page 19
By the time Holt texted he was on his way over, I’d already carried my sleeping daughter up the stairs and put her to sleep in her bed.
“Hey,” I said, opening the door to let him in.
My father stretched his arms over his head. “Calling it a night. These old bones weren’t meant for floor sitting.” He clasped Holt’s shoulder as he passed. “Good night.”
“Night,” we echoed.
Alone finally, Holt eliminated the space between us. “About the song…”
“It was perfect,” I said, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. “She’ll love hearing it.”
His hands found my waist, drawing me closer. “I wrote it for both of you.”
I rose on tiptoe, pressing my mouth to his. When we separated, I rested against him, listening to the rhythm of his heart.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I whispered.
“Holt, there’s something I need to tell you.”
While he looked like he was about to drift to sleep, his eyes opened wide.
“I, um, well, the thing is…” I stammered.
He put his fingertip on my lips. “Let me go first.”
“Okay.”
“I love you, Keltie.”
My eyes filled with tears. “I love you, Holt.”
22
HOLT
Keltie’s words washed over me, releasing the tension I’d been carrying for the last couple of weeks. I pulled her closer, burying my face in her wild curls as her arms tightened around me. The weight of everything I’d watched her go through—Luna’s diagnosis, the treatments, the bone marrow search—seemed to lift, if only for this moment.
“Say it again,” I whispered against her ear.
Her amber eyes met mine in the dim light of her bedroom. “I love you.”
I claimed her mouth with mine, my hands sliding beneath her sweater to find the warm skin beneath. She moved against me with an urgency that matched my own, her fingers working the buttons of my shirt with trembling hands.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked, breaking the kiss long enough to search her face.
“More sure than I’ve been about anything in a long time,” she replied.
Once we were both naked, I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out the only condom I carried with me, hoping it would still work. When I opened the packet, then rolled it on, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“We need to pick up more of those,” she said, breaking the tension in the most perfect way.
“Damn, I love you,” I said, spreading her legs to rest between them. Holding myself with one arm, I took her perfect nipple in my mouth, sucking until she arched, then moving to the other.
“Holt?”
I shifted so my lips could brush hers. “Keltie?”
“It’s, uh, been a long time since I’ve done this.”
“Pretty sure it’s like ridin’ a bike, darlin’.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
I looked into her eyes. “If you aren’t ready, we can stop right now.”
Her eyebrows flashed. “Not ready? I’m beyond ready, Holt. In fact, if you could speed things up a bit, I’d be all for it.”
I smiled, positioned myself at her entrance, then eased inside at the same time I circled her bundle of nerves with her wetness. She arched again, and her eyes drifted closed.
“You doin’ okay?” I asked, barely holding on as well.
Her response, sinking her fingernails into the cheek of my ass and pushing me against her, was all the answer I needed. I thrust deeper, increasing our rhythm as she matched me stroke for stroke, and her hands moved to my shoulders.
“Holt?” she repeated.
“Come for me, Keltie.” I thrust hard and fast until I felt her pussy clench and her wetness flood me. Only then did I let myself go.
For the next couple of hours, I traced every inch of her with my hands and mouth, memorizing the constellation of freckles across her shoulders and the places that made her breath catch. We were out of condoms, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t bring each other pleasure.
“I love you,” she whispered again and again, each time we crested together. “I love you so much.”
Dawn filtered through the curtains when I woke. Keltie’s head was nestled against my shoulder, her breathing deep and even. I remained still, not wanting to disturb her after weeks of restless nights in hospital chairs. I watched her breathe, the gentle movement of her eyelashes against her skin.
Luna’s voice drifted through the partially open door, followed by Victor’s low reply. The smell of coffee and breakfast wafted up the stairwell. I eased carefully from beneath Keltie, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling on my jeans and shirt.
“And then they found a magic berry bush,” Luna was saying as I descended the stairs. She sat at the kitchen table, a purple bandana covering her head, animatedly moving her hands as she described her latest story to her grandfather.
Victor looked up from the stovetop, where he was flipping what looked like French toast. “Buenos días. Coffee’s fresh.”
“Morning,” I replied, gratefully accepting the mug he offered.
“Mr. Holt!” Luna beamed. “I’m telling Abuelo about the new story I dreamed!”
I sat beside her, ruffling her bandana gently. “I can’t wait to hear it, Unicorn Girl.”
Victor set a plate of French toast in front of Luna, who immediately doused it in syrup.
“Is Mommy still sleeping?” Luna asked between bites.
“She is. She needs the rest,” I replied, sharing a knowing look with Victor.
“Did you sleep nice beside Mommy?” Luna asked, her innocent question nearly making me choke on my coffee.
Victor chuckled. “Pequeña, let Mr. Holt eat his breakfast before the interrogation, eh?”
“Abuelo says you make her happy,” Luna whispered.
My heart squeezed in my chest. “She makes me happy too,” I said, tapping her nose lightly.
Keltie appeared in the doorway, wrapped in a robe, her hair a wild tangle around her shoulders. My breath caught at the sight of her—sleep-rumpled and beautiful.
“Mommy!” Luna called. “We made French toast!”
“I see that,” Keltie said, coming to kiss Luna’s forehead before accepting the coffee mug Victor handed her. Her eyes met mine over the rim, and her cheeks pinkened.
“Morning,” I murmured, fighting the urge to pull her onto my lap.
“Morning,” she replied, her voice still husky with sleep.
Victor cleared his throat. “I thought I might take Luna to the park later, if she’s feeling up to it.”
“Can we, Mommy?” Luna asked, bouncing in her chair. “Dr. Robbins said I can play outside if I wear my mask.”
Keltie hesitated, and her fingers tightened around her mug. “Let’s see how you feel after breakfast,” she said, her standard non-answer that made Luna sigh dramatically.
After we finished eating, I helped Victor with the dishes while Keltie took Luna upstairs to get dressed.
“She loves you,” Victor said as he handed me a plate to dry.
“I love them both,” I replied honestly.
“Good. They deserve that.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere, Victor.”
He studied me, his weathered face solemn. “When Mary Grace died, I thought I’d never recover. Luna’s mother—she was so young.” He shook his head. “But I had to, for Keltie. Now, you understand, yes? What it means to be the rock someone leans on?”
“Yes,” I said quietly. “I do.”
“Bueno.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Then, we understand each other.”
Later that morning, I offered to pick up Luna’s prescription at the pharmacy. Elk Avenue had transformed overnight. Benefit concert posters hung on every shop window, telephone pole, and on the bulletin board outside the library. “Valentine’s Day with CB Rice,” they announced in bold letters. “Supporting Luna Marquez’s Fight Against Leukemia.”
The drug store was buzzing with chatter about the concert as I waited for Luna’s medications to be filled.
“Did you hear they might add a second day?” the woman ahead of me asked her friend. “Sold out in under ten minutes!”
“My mother-in-law in Denver somehow scored tickets,” the other replied. “She’s driving all the way here for it. I warned her to make a reservation at one of the hotels now. I’m sure they’re going to sell out too!”
I smiled to myself, still amazed by Ben’s generosity and the town’s response.
When I returned to Keltie’s house, I found her curled on the sofa with a notebook, scribbling what looked like medication schedules and appointment times.
“Where are Luna and Victor?” I asked, setting down the bag of medications.
“Park,” she replied, tucking a curl behind her ear. “Luna was bouncing off the walls, so I finally gave in and said she could go.”
I sank down beside her, examining her list. “That’s a lot to keep track of.”
“Miguel’s been incredible about scheduling everyone’s shifts around me being away,” she said, letting out a deep sigh. “But it’s still a juggling act.”
“Maybe you could use another juggler?” I suggested, taking her hand. “I meant what I said last night, Keltie. I love you. I love Luna. I’ll do whatever I can to help. Whatever needs to be done.”
“How are you at bartending?” she asked.
I raised a brow. “I grew up in a ski town. How do you think?”
She smirked. “But do you know how to do more than pour beer?”
I took the pen from her hand and pulled her onto my lap. “Come here, and I’ll show you what all I can do.”
Keltie melted against me, her body fitting perfectly against mine. Her lips found my jaw, then my mouth in a deep kiss.
“How long will they be at the park?” I murmured against her neck.
“Long enough,” she replied with a smile.
We made love on the sofa, sunlight spilling across our tangled limbs, her soft cries muffled against my shoulder. Afterward, we held each other, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her bare skin.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said after a while. “I want to record Luna’s song at Ben’s studio.”
“That would be amazing,” she replied.
“I might work on other tracks too,” I continued. “I was thinking of asking Bridger to come along. The guy’s got serious talent, though he’d never admit it.”
Keltie grew quiet, her fingers stilling on my chest.
“What is it?” I asked, tilting her chin so I could see her expression.
“Nothing,” she said quickly, then bit her lip. “It’s, um, been a long time since I’ve been in a studio.”
Understanding dawned. “Would you want to come with me? See the setup?”
Her eyes lit up. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Are you kidding? I’d love it.” I pulled her closer and nuzzled her neck.
“Could Luna and Dad come too?” she asked. “They could drive separately in case Luna gets tired.”
“Absolutely,” I replied, kissing her softly. “Ben said to give Liv a heads up when I planned to come by. I’ll call her now.”
“This place is amazing.” Keltie’s eyes were wide as she took in the mixing board.
Luna clutched my hand, her purple bandana a bright spot of color against the studio’s muted tones. Her gaze darted nervously when Liv walked into the studio, holding the hand of her and Ben’s five-year-old daughter, Caden.
“Everything all right, Unicorn Girl?” I asked, crouching to her level.
She shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“Do you want to play with Caden?” I asked quietly.
Luna shook her head.
I’d worried this might happen—that she’d feel self-conscious about her hair loss, despite the brightly colored bandana. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
She rolled her eyes in a perfect imitation of her mother. “Of course I want to play, but I don’t want to miss hearing my song.”
I laughed, relieved. “Tell you what—once I’m warmed up and your mom’s ready, you and I will lay down the first tracks together. Okay? You can sit right next to me.”
Her face lit up. “Really?”
“Really,” I confirmed.
“If I knew the words, I’d sing along, but I haven’t heard them yet.” That statement sounded more like her abuelo than her mother.
“It’s our story, Luna. You know all the words.”
“So it’s okay if I sing?”
“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.
After they left, we continued recording, with Bridger adding subtle harmonies that enhanced the track beautifully. His deep baritone complemented my voice in ways I hadn’t anticipated, adding depth to the chorus.
“That’s it,” Keltie said through the intercom after our third take. “That’s the one.”
She spent another hour working her magic on the soundboard, and when she played the final version, I choked up. Luna’s song, now professionally recorded, with her reactions woven throughout, transforming it into something both polished and personal.
“It’s perfect,” I said, squeezing Keltie’s shoulder. “You’re amazing.”
She blushed, ducking her head. “It’s your song. I just helped capture it.”
Ben insisted on playing it through the studio’s main speakers. “This is fantastic, Holt. We gotta get more of your stuff recorded. You’re a damn good songwriter.”
My phone buzzed with Buck’s name on the screen. “Excuse me a minute,” I said, stepping into the hallway to take the call.
“How’s it going?” my oldest brother asked.
“Great. We’re at Ben’s studio, recording Luna’s song.”
“I won’t keep you, but I wanted you to know that Decker’s been digging into Miracles of Hope,” Buck continued. “Not much luck so far. It was definitely set up anonymously, with multiple layers of legal protection.”
“Just like the trust,” I muttered.
“Took the words right outta my mouth. Anyway, I wanted you to know I heard from him, and he said he’d keep digging. I’ll keep you posted.”
After hanging up, I found Bridger and Keltie deep in conversation about mixing techniques. Ben had disappeared, presumably to check on his daughter.
“Got what we need?” I asked, placing my hand on the small of Keltie’s back.
“I think so. Bridger was showing me a new compression technique.”
