Page 24 of Love Is a War Song

“I think you had enough excitement for today. Let’s get you back into bed.” Lottie helped Bessie get up.

“What.” Hack . “About.” Hack . “My food?” she barely managed to squeeze out before the coughing took over once more.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your food. Once your coughing calms down. Avery, grab the plate.”

Not needing to be told twice, I gathered up the plate and set it down on the bedside table while Lottie got Bessie settled back into bed. She finally got her breathing back in order to eat her second helping of her lunch and was soon struggling to keep her eyes open.

“We are going to go and let you sleep. Shauna and Pam will be by later to help with dinner and your evening medication.” Lottie leaned over to kiss Bessie’s forehead. Bessie lifted her arm and patted Lottie’s shoulder with a nod at me.

“You bring her back.”

I jerked up. “Of course, I’d love to come back.”

“You know any other Elton John songs?” she asked.

“I can learn more.”

Bessie nodded as if that prospect was enough.

“We’ll be back, sleep now.”

Once Lottie was satisfied that everything was left as it should be, she ushered us out of the house and into the truck.

It was a few moments before Lottie started the engine.

“What you did in there…” She let her thought trail off.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have played such a loud and exciting song. I promise I’ll play more mellow songs. I know she is recovering. I feel terrible that I distressed her.”

Lottie grabbed my wrist. “No, what you did in there was amazing. Bessie has never let anyone touch that piano in years.”

“What happened to her daughter?”

Lottie removed her hand from my wrist and shifted the truck into reverse.

“It’s a sad story. I’m only telling you so you tread carefully and don’t ask her too many questions.

Bessie’s husband died a long time ago. Marie moved up here to work as a nurse and Bessie sold her old family home in Okmulgee to be closer to her.

About fifteen years ago, Marie was working a night shift at the hospital.

On her way home, she was in a terrible car accident and died.

Bessie has been alone here since, helping the community to stay busy. ”

I put my hand to my mouth. “That’s awful. Poor thing.”

“She has been there for everyone. Always with a smile on her face.”

I wiped a tear from my eye. Lottie drove in silence for a few minutes. “You gave Bessie a gift. You have a gift.” She took her eyes off the road for a moment and looked at me, really looked at me. I could feel her gaze piercing straight through me and to my heart.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Lottie nodded, turning her eyes back on the road. I looked out my window. My heart felt like it grew another size. That was the first true compliment Lottie, my grandmother, had ever given me and I could feel the unspoken message. I was a gift, and so was this time together.

I couldn’t squander it.

···

Lottie went to get some equipment from a farm just a couple towns over and took Red and Davey with her.

She told me not to worry about preparing lunch, so I had some free time.

I wanted to roam the property in broad daylight and get a break from the dust, but something in my gut told me there were more precious treasures hidden in the attic.

I got to work digging through crate after crate. I was no antique expert, but a lot of the stuff up here was junk. Not even fit for a thrift store, with garments so moth-eaten I couldn’t even tell what they originally were—they went in the growing dump pile.

Then I found a promising box that was so heavy I had to comb through the contents while kneeling in the corner. There were several leather-bound books and my heart started racing. What if there was a rare first edition book that was worth so much it could save the entire ranch?

I thumbed through tome after tome of the same rich green leather, and I deflated.

There were eighteen copies of the same encyclopedia from 1919 sitting on top of old crumpled newspaper.

It looked like one of my relatives was a door-to-door encyclopedia salesperson or something.

Was it too much to ask for a miracle? I guess there was no secret treasure up here after all.

I let myself fall back on my butt to give my knees a break and kicked the box out of my way.

Pain shot through my toe and up my foot.

What the hell was that? I breathed through the pain and dug around the wads of old newspaper.

Then I felt it, a large metal thing that was wrapped in layers of paper.

I reached in to pull it out and was surprised by the weight of it.

Peeling back sheet after sheet of delicate faded paper, I discovered a bronze lamp base with flowers on it.

It was pretty. If I could find the shade it would probably be worth a little something.

Not enough to make a difference though. At least it would be easier to sell than a crap ton of outdated encyclopedias.

I kept searching, sifting through boxes, and organizing, the task so mindless that time passed.

A knock sounded on the door, and it made me jump.

As far as I was aware, it was just me and Lucas on the property and I’d never once seen him come upstairs.

I hunched behind boxes, hiding in case it was an intruder or one of those monsters Lucas feared.

“Avery?” Lucas’s voice rolled through the attic. “You up here?”

“Yeah, back here.” I popped up like a jack-in-the-box toy on a spring.

He jumped and yelled out.

“Got you!” I laughed. “Serves you right.”

“I was just checking on you.”

“What? Bored without Davey or Red to boss around?” I cocked my hip.

“Yeah, actually, those lazy bums are still gone and I gotta go find Tilda. She got loose.” My stomach made a low rumbling sound. How late was it? I got so wrapped up in the project I forgot to eat.

“Who’s Tilda?” I asked.

“She’s one of our mares who is a bit of an escape artist. She is expecting a foal and due any day now, so we need to find her before she rolls an ankle or something.”

“I didn’t know the ranch was expecting a baby!” I clapped excitedly. “You sure you need my help?” These creatures hated me.

“Anyone else here in this room?” he asked.

“There is a CPR dummy I found in that corner over there.”

Lucas looked over his shoulder and saw the lifeless and limbless dummy leaning against the wall. “The fuck?”

“I don’t know.” I threw my hands up. My best guess was one of my ancestors was a doctor or something.

“Come on, we don’t want her wandering into another property.”

“Fine.” I sighed as I trudged along behind him.

The sun felt wonderful on my face after being cooped up. The humidity didn’t even bother me…at first. I started walking down toward the barn.

“I thought you were mad at me,” I said to Lucas’s back. His black T-shirt clung to his skin with perspiration.

“No.”

“Really?” I stopped in my tracks. I wasn’t buying that.

“Really,” he threw over his shoulder. I let the issue drop. If he didn’t want to talk about it, then I wasn’t going to make him. I would focus on the task at hand.

“Tilda! Come here, horsey, horsey,” I called through my cupped hands around my mouth, throwing in some kisses like people do for cats and dogs.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for the horse.”

“She’s long gone and can’t hear you. Over here.” He motioned for me to follow him to Rakko, who was saddled up and ready to go.

“You’re gonna ride Rakko?”

“No. We’re gonna ride Rakko.”

“I can’t get on a horse.”

“Sure you can. Now stop dawdling and step into my hands.” He squatted at the side of Rakko with laced fingers to boost me up.

I gulped and stepped closer to the massive horse.

“That’s it.” Lucas’s tone was gentle, as one would speak to one of the horses to calm them.

I put my hand on his shoulder and placed my left foot into his hand, and as if I were weightless, Lucas boosted me up in one quick motion.

I wrapped my right leg over Rakko’s flank and then I was in the saddle.

Lucas took a moment to make sure the straps on the saddle were secure, coming around to the right side, and looked down at my right shoe and his black shoelace he had given me.

He played with the bow, almost absentmindedly, before snapping himself out of it.

Lucas came back around to the left side of Rakko, vaulted himself up using the stirrup, and settled behind me, snaking his arms around my waist to reach the reins. He clicked his tongue and then we were off trotting out through the pasture and into the woods.

“Tilda!” I called again and Lucas laughed. “What color is she?” I asked.

“She’s the pinto.” As if that meant anything to me.

“They all look the same to me, Lucas.”

“She is mostly white with brown legs and belly.”

“Oh, that one.” I raised my voice again. “Tilda!”

“Will you stop yelling. You’ll scare her further away. You look right and I’ll take left. Got it?”

“Got it.”

We roamed through the trees and out to a meadow.

I did my best to keep my posture straight and limit my physical contact with Lucas, but it was impossible.

I looked down at his arm holding the reins; the other was resting on his thigh.

He was so sure of himself and his capabilities.

He was at home on a horse and in the wide-open spaces of the country.

It was hard not to admire him. It was like how I felt sitting in front of a piano.

It was part of him and he was part of it.

I tried to picture Lucas in Los Angeles and snorted.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his rich voice so close to my ear.

“I was trying to picture you walking down Sunset Boulevard.”

He snickered. “That is funny, because it would never happen.”