Page 38 of Roaring Fork Rockstar

“Me too,” said Sam.

“I think you should all relax and let me do it,” I offered. “I haven’t helped at all.”

“Tell you what; you can make the salad.”

“I’m in,” I responded, walking over to the sink to wash my hands. When I turned around, I caught Flynn wiping away a tear. She was facing away from the others, so I doubt they’d noticed. “You okay?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Oh, I’m fine. Everything makes me emotional these days.”

I raised a brow, and she put one finger in front of her lips. “I’m still in my first trimester, so we aren’t saying anything yet,” she whispered.

“My lips are sealed,” I whispered like she had.

“Oh, yeah? Keepin’ secrets?” said Holt, who I hadn’t heard walk up behind me. I immediately tensed as guilt flooded me at his implication. Then I felt his arm snake around my waist and his warm breath near my ear. “I’m teasing, Keltie. That was more for Flynn than for you.”

I nodded once, but the guilt didn’t dissipate. “I’m, uh, supposed to be making the salad.”

“I’ll help,” he offered.

Flynn pointed a knife in his direction. “You can mash the potatoes.”

“See how mean she gets when she’s pregnant?” he whispered quietly enough that only his sister and I heard him.

Flynn shook her head. “I swear the man is clairvoyant.”

Before I could say anything else, Luna appeared in the doorway, rubbing her eyes with one hand while clutching Bunny with the other.

“Mommy?” she called sleepily. “When are we going on the sleigh rides?”

Flynn smiled. “Soon, sweetheart.”

Luna’s face brightened, and her fatigue dissipated. “Can we eatnow?”

“No, honey,” I said quickly. “But if you help us, I bet we can eat sooner.”

“Over here, unicorn gal,” said Flynn, pulling a stool up to the counter for her. She grabbed dough from the refrigerator and plastic cookie cutters that she set in front of her. “These will be for dessert,” she explained. “Christmas trees and stars.”

As I watched Luna press the cutters into the dough, her tongue poking out in concentration, I realized that, for today at least, we belonged here—in this kitchen, in this home, with this family, and with the man currently smashing potatoes like his life depended on it.

Sometimes, family wasn’t what you were born into, but what you found along the way. As Luna giggled at Flynn’s stories about her brothers as children, I touched the pendant at my throat and let myself believe that, for right now, perhaps we’d found ours.

12

HOLT

The family was gathered in the dining room, the warmth of the Christmas dinner preparations filling the house with delicious aromas and laughter. As we were carrying dishes into the dining room, Buck’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, raising a brow. “It’s Kaleb Ackerman. I better take this.”

He stepped away, his expression growing serious as he listened. After ending the call, he looked out the window. “There’s a fast-moving blizzard heading our way and moving north. The sheriff says it’s a bad one.”

Flynn crossed to the window, pushing the curtain aside. “It’s already coming down pretty hard.”

I looked out to see thick flakes swirling in the darkness, the ranch lights illuminating their chaotic descent. The wind had picked up too, bending tree branches in sharp, erratic movements.

“We should head home,” Keltie said immediately, concern flashing across her face. “Before the roads get too bad.”

Luna, who’d been happily arranging her stuffed animal in an empty chair at the table, looked up with dismay. “But we’re supposed to go on a sleigh ride!”

“We’ll have to do that another night,” Keltie told her.

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