Roaring fork wrangler ro.., p.25
Roaring Fork Wrangler (Roaring Fork Ranch Book 1), page 25
“Keltie? What’s happening?”
I turned to her, aware of Remi shifting behind me. “Luna’s father has decided against doing the transplant.”
I felt rather than saw Remi step forward. “That’s not what I—”
“Shut the fuck up, or I swear to God I’ll kill you.” Holt’s voice came from behind us, low and deadly. I hadn’t even realized he was back.
Dr. Robbins looked between us. “Perhaps we should discuss this privately.”
“I’m a half match,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “Use me instead.”
Dr. Robbins hesitated, then motioned to me to follow. “My office. Now.”
I clutched the papers in my fist, aware of Holt physically blocking Remi from following us. Once the door closed behind us, I slammed the documents onto her desk.
“He wants to take my daughter,” I said, my voice breaking. “In exchange for his bone marrow, he wants my daughter. He’s never even had a conversation with her!”
Dr. Robbins picked up the papers, scanning them quickly. Her expression hardened as she read.
“Sit down, Keltie,” she said gently.
I sank into the chair, my legs no longer able to support me. “Can you do it? Can you use my cells instead?”
She sighed, setting the papers down. “While a full match is preferred, a half match will work. Particularly given the circumstances.”
Hope flickered, fragile but present. “Thank God.”
“Bone marrow transplants from half-identical family members have been performed more frequently due to the challenges in finding a fully matched donor,” she explained. “Treatment advances help the body accept the new cells, regardless. In this case, I believe it’s in Luna’s best interest to proceed with you as the donor.” She leaned forward, her expression more personal than professional.
Tears spilled down my cheeks. “Will it hurt her more? Be harder on her?”
“The risks are slightly higher,” she admitted. “But Luna is strong, and frankly, her connection to you—her trust, her comfort with you—those factors matter in recovery.”
I wiped away tears. “When can we do it?”
“I’ll need to run more tests, but we can begin harvesting your cells tomorrow. The procedure itself isn’t pleasant—you’ll be sore for several days—but it’s nothing compared to what Luna’s going through.”
“I don’t care about the pain,” I said. “I’d give her my heart if she needed it.”
Dr. Robbins smiled. “I know you would. That’s why I believe this will work.”
When we returned to the hallway, Remi was engaged in a tense standoff with Holt and my father, who’d created a physical barrier between Remi and Luna’s room.
“You’re no longer needed,” I said, my voice steady for the first time in days.
Remi’s face darkened. “You can’t do this. I’m her father.”
“No,” I replied. “You’re a sperm donor who abandoned us both. A father is someone who shows up, who loves unconditionally, who puts his child’s needs above his own.” I glanced at Holt, drawing strength from his presence. “Luna already has that person in her life.”
“This isn’t over,” Remi warned, gathering the papers I threw at his feet. “My lawyer will be in touch.”
“Get out,” I seethed.
Rather than watch him leave, I turned to Holt and my dad, whose faces reflected the same mixture of concern and relief I felt.
“Dr. Robbins says I can do it,” I told them. “My cells. My donation.”
My father’s arms felt strong around my shoulders as he embraced me. “Mi hija valiente,” he murmured. “My brave daughter.”
When he let go, Holt pulled me against him, his breath warm against my hair. “I love you so much.”
How did he know those were the exact words I needed to hear?
The bone marrow harvest was as painful as Dr. Robbins had warned. I lay face down on the operating table while they extracted marrow from my pelvic bone with a long needle. The local anesthetic dulled the worst of it, but nothing could completely eliminate the strange pressure and discomfort of having part of my body literally sucked out through my bones.
It meant nothing compared to watching Luna’s struggle. The conditioning had left her so vulnerable that even the slightest infection could be deadly. She was isolated in a sterile room, the visitors limited and required to wear masks, gloves, and gowns.
The actual transplant was anticlimactic—a bag of cells, not much different in appearance from a blood transfusion, dripping slowly into her veins. I held her hand throughout, telling the same stories Holt did, of magical forests and cloud kingdoms where unicorns danced among the stars.
“Your super cells are going inside me?” Luna asked drowsily, her eyes heavy from the medication.
“That’s right, Luna-bug,” I said, squeezing her fingers gently.
She smiled, her eyes drifting closed. “Then, I’ll definitely get better. Your cells are strong, like me.”
The next few days were the most terrifying of my life. Every temperature spike sent panic through me. Every blood test held the potential for devastating news. Luna’s body might reject my cells, attack them as foreign invaders, or simply fail to integrate them.
But somehow, miraculously, neither happened. Seven days after the transplant, Dr. Robbins entered Luna’s room with the first genuine smile I’d seen since we arrived.
“Her blood counts are improving,” she announced. “The engraftment is beginning to take hold.”
I sagged against Holt, who had been my constant shadow throughout the ordeal. “So it’s working?”
“It’s early,” Dr. Robbins cautioned. “But yes, so far, it’s working exactly as we’d hoped.”
That night, when we were at the apartment while my father stayed with Luna, the stress of the past weeks crashed over me like a tidal wave—the fear for Luna’s life, the battle with Remi, the physical toll of the donation, all of it.
Holt held me through it. “You saved her,” he murmured against my hair. “Not only from the cancer, but from him too.”
I looked up at him through tears. “We’re not out of the woods yet. She has a long recovery ahead of her, and Remi’s threat still hangs over us.”
“Let him try,” Holt said, his voice hardening. “He’s going up against you, me, and an entire community that loves Luna. He doesn’t stand a chance.”
Our moment was interrupted by a sharp knock at the apartment door. Holt frowned, crossing the room to answer it. Ben Rice stood in the hallway, his expression grave.
“Sorry to disturb you this late,” he said, stepping inside when Holt gestured him in. “But I have information you both need to hear immediately.”
I straightened, instantly alert. “About Luna?”
“It’s about Remi.” Ben’s jaw tightened as he sat across from us.
Holt’s eyebrows shot up. “What about him?”
Ben ran a hand over his face. “The lead singer of the band that opened for us on the East Coast contacted me yesterday. He said one of his sound engineers is accusing Remi of sexual assault. She’s also saying she wasn’t the only one.” Ben’s expression darkened. “Liv, the rest of our band, and I have been on the phone with everyone Remi’s worked with, every band we’ve toured with. In the last twenty-four hours, more women have come forward with similar stories.”
“My God,” I muttered. “He assaulted them?”
“That’s right. Every one of the women said they were afraid to speak up because of Remi’s position and influence. He threatened to ruin their careers.” Ben met my eyes directly. “When you disappeared from the tour, I should have questioned it, especially given how abruptly you left.”
The validation after all these years brought unexpected tears to my eyes. “You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have,” Ben insisted. “When I confronted him about these new allegations, he became defensive, started ranting about ‘ungrateful women’ trying to ruin his life.” Ben shook his head in disgust. “Then he made the mistake of bringing up Luna.”
“What did he say?” I asked, my stomach tightening.
“He implied that if these allegations came to light, he might need to ‘explore all his options’ regarding her.” Ben’s expression hardened. “He didn’t explicitly threaten custody, but the implication was clear—he was planning to use her as leverage to silence the accusations.”
“That fucking sonuvabitch,” Holt seethed.
“Here’s the thing; I recorded the entire conversation,” Ben continued, pulling out his phone. “His veiled threats about Luna and his response to everything else. It might not be admissible in a court of law, but if these women are willing to press charges, knowing they have my backing, along with that of other powerful people in the music industry, we wouldn’t need it for evidence.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Do you think they will actually press charges?”
“Two already have. The police picked him up an hour ago. He’s in custody now.”
“For how long?” Holt asked.
“With multiple charges coming in from different jurisdictions, his lawyer will have a hard time getting bail.” Ben’s expression was solemn. “I came here as soon as I heard. I wanted you to know that Luna is safe from him, and so are you.”
I pressed my hand to my mouth, overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events.
“I know this must be a lot to process,” Ben said gently. “But I wanted you to hear it from me directly. I’m doing everything in my power to make this right—not only for you and Luna, but for every woman he’s hurt.”
Holt stood, extending his hand to Ben. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Ben shook his head. “I’m so sorry…”
After Ben left, I found myself standing by the window, watching the Denver lights flicker against the night sky. Holt’s arms wrapped around my waist from behind, and he rested his chin on my shoulder.
“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.
“That sometimes the universe has a strange way of delivering justice,” I replied.
My phone rang, and I answered it quickly when I saw Dr. Robbins’ number.
“Dr. Robbins? Is everything okay?”
Her voice came through, professional but with an undercurrent of excitement. “Better than okay, Keltie. I’ve completed Luna’s evening assessment and am happy to say her fever has broken and her latest blood work shows the strongest signs of engraftment yet.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. “She’s accepting the transplant?”
“Better than I dared to hope,” Dr. Robbins continued. “The cellular integration is remarkable. It’s like a perfect match, after all.”
I turned to Holt, who was watching my face anxiously. “Luna’s improving. The transplant is working.”
He pulled me into a crushing embrace, his own tears dampening my hair. “Our girl’s going to be okay.”
Our girl. The phrase encompassed everything I’d ever wanted—a family bound not by biology or legal documents, but by love, by choice, by fierce protection of one another.
“I should return to the hospital,” I said, already gathering my coat.
“We both should,” Holt agreed.
As we drove through the quiet streets, my mind kept circling around to the unexpected resolution. Remi’s threat had disintegrated under the weight of his own misdeeds. And Luna was healing, growing stronger with each passing hour.
At the hospital, we found my father dozing in the chair beside Luna’s bed. Her color had improved dramatically, and her breathing was deep and even. I approached quietly, not wanting to wake her. But her eyes fluttered open as I took her hand.
“Mommy,” she whispered, her voice stronger than it had been in days. “I had a dream about you.”
“Did you?” I smoothed her cheek with my thumb. “Tell me about it.”
“You were wearing a long white dress and a veil,” Luna said, her eyes drifting to Holt, who stood beside me. “And you had on a suit.”
“What else did you dream, Unicorn Girl?” Holt asked in a shaky voice.
“I was between you, wearing a long purple dress, and the three of us walked down an aisle together while everyone clapped.” She glanced up at Holt. “And you told me that I could call you Daddy.”
“That sounds like a very happy dream,” I said, not even bothering to stop my tears.
Luna smiled, her eyelids growing heavy again. “Not just a dream, Mommy.” She glanced at Holt a second time. “Right, Daddy?”
“That’s right, Luna-bug. It’s a dream come true.”
30
HOLT
JULY
The ranch looked different today. Not because anything had physically changed—the butte still framed the horizon, the big trees still spread their branches across the eastern field, and the main house still stood proud against the Colorado sky. But something had shifted in the way I saw it all. Today, this place wasn’t only our legacy or where I’d grown up. Today, it was the place where Keltie, Luna, and I would begin our new life as a family.
I stood beneath the white wooden arch my brothers and I had built last week, watching as Keltie walked toward me across the grass. She wore a white dress that flowed around her, catching the July breeze. No elaborate cathedral, no hundreds of guests, no pageantry—just us, our families, and the land that represented far more than we’d ever dreamed.
Her smile caught the sunlight as she approached, her hand tucked in her father’s arm. I’d never seen anything more beautiful than her wild, curly, dark-brown hair framing her face and her gorgeous amber eyes filled with joy.
When she reached me, those eyes were bright with unshed tears. Happy ones, I knew. We’d cried enough of the other kind to recognize the difference.
“Hi,” she whispered, taking my hands.
“Hi, yourself,” I whispered like she had.
The ceremony passed in a blur. I remembered the important parts—the promises we made, the rings we exchanged, the kiss that sealed it all. But mostly, I remembered how it felt to stand there, surrounded by everyone who mattered, pledging myself to the woman who had shown me the best of what life could be.
Luna stood between us, like she’d dreamed, wearing her long purple dress and beaming with pride. She occasionally waved to everyone as if she were the star of the show—which, in many ways, she was. After all, she was the one to dream this day into existence.
After the celebratory cheers died down, I squeezed Keltie’s hand. We’d planned this moment carefully.
“Before we all head to the reception,” I said, raising my voice so our gathered family could hear, “Keltie and I have an announcement.”
She stepped forward, her hand drifting to rest on the swell of her belly, visible now if you knew to look for it.
“We’re having a baby,” she said, her voice steady and clear in the summer air. “Due in December.”
The second round of cheers was even louder than the first. My brothers and Flynn were the first to reach us, pulling us both into tight embraces. Luna danced around us, shouting that she was going to be a big sister.
Later, as the celebration continued under the twinkling lights strung across the yard, Keltie found me standing aside, watching our families together.
“Happy?” she asked, slipping her hand into mine.
I pulled her close. “More than I ever thought possible.” I pressed my hand gently against her belly. “When you said yes to marrying me, I didn’t think life could get better. And then this somehow happened…”
She laughed. “Somehow? I believe my exact words were, ‘Let’s start our family now.’”
“Best decision ever,” I murmured against her hair.
A few days after the wedding, Dr. Robbins called. The hospital was holding a ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new research lab, funded largely by Miracles of Hope, along with significant private donations.
“They specifically asked that we all attend,” my brother Buck said after hanging up the phone. “And mentioned that Luna will be the guest of honor.”
“Of course she will.” I smiled. Wasn’t she always? Hadn’t she more than earned it? Not only because of her struggles, but from her positive outlook on life.
So we went—Keltie, Luna, and me, along with my siblings. Beau and Sam, who’d flown in from New York for our wedding, stayed an extra week.
When we arrived at the hospital, I was surprised to see Ben and Liv Rice already there, chatting with Dr. Robbins.
“There they are,” Dr. Robbins said warmly as we approached. She knelt down and gave Luna a big hug. “You’re looking very pretty today, Unicorn Girl.”
Luna beamed up at me. “That’s what my Daddy calls me.”
The ceremony itself was brief. Dr. Robbins spoke about the importance of continued research into childhood cancers and how the new lab would focus specifically on the type that had affected both Scarlett and Luna. Then she unveiled the plaque beside the entrance—Scarlett’s Hope Research Laboratory.
Underneath, a smaller plaque listed the major donors. I felt my throat tighten when I read that both the Rice family and the Barrett family had made significant contributions in Luna’s name.
After the ceremony, as people mingled with refreshments, Ben walked over to Keltie and me. “I bet he didn’t tell you that all the proceeds from Luna’s song helped build this too.”
Keltie’s eyes were wide when she looked up at me. “You did that?”
“No, darlin’. We did it. Remember?”
A week later, we arrived at the Roaring Fork, where we joined my family for a walk to the memorial garden my siblings and I had created around Scarlett’s grave. Luna ran ahead of us, carrying a small bouquet of wildflowers she’d insisted on picking herself.
“For Scarlett,” she explained as she carefully arranged them at the base of the small headstone.
My siblings gathered around us and shared a moment of silence. Then Keltie squeezed my hand.
