Page 36 of Love Is a War Song

Those theatrics were what made performing the songs I do possible.

It was a mask to hide behind, or else I’d feel how close to naked I was, performing songs with suggestive lyrics.

I couldn’t do that barefaced and in jeans—then I’d be truly naked.

The world thinks they have seen Avery Fox, but the real me was something I didn’t let everyone have access to…

because I’d only just found her. In my isolation, I had finally realized who I was in my core.

I discovered that I was a songwriter first and a performer second.

I was capable of more than just being a pretty face that could memorize lines and hit my mark.

I was able to make food from scratch and work this land—I wasn’t any good at it, but I did it and I’d keep trying to get better.

“?‘Heartbeats’? That song isn’t ready to perform live. Even you said it needed work.”

“It’s not ready yet, but we could get it there.”

“We?” I lifted my eyebrow.

“The hook is there. I haven’t been able to get it out of my damn head. But you need a better bridge to get you there.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve been working on it a bit as I work in the house. I still don’t know if it’s exactly right, but I feel like it’s closer.” I sighed.

“Show me.” Lucas nudged the guitar in my direction.

Piano was my instrument of choice, but I could strum a few chords on guitar.

I was nervous to touch his guitar. I felt naked with Lucas’s attention on me and my music.

I didn’t keep a traditional diary. I laid myself bare in my music, and he’d been less than complimentary the first time I’d sung this song.

“This thing in tune?” I asked to buy me more time.

“Impeccably.” He raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his seat in wait.

“I’m not much of a guitarist.”

“Stop stalling and let me hear it.”

I gave a nervous giggle. “At least it’s in the key of E and those chords are easy on a guitar.

” I practiced strumming chords A, B, and E to get a feel for the instrument.

Then I turned to face the wall of books and music, because I couldn’t sing looking directly into his eyes. It was just too intimate.

I played the first chord and began, my voice low and timid as I warmed up to performing a song so close to my heart with an unfamiliar instrument.

Moving fast

Enough to make you spin

Always chasing fame

And the will of what some man says

I let the song take over me as I sang the next verse and chorus. Finally, it was time for the revised bridge. It was similar to what I had before, but I tweaked some words here and there and rearranged the order of a few lines. What it was now was better, sharper.

And I let it all go

The crown and the robe

As I walk through the door

One million heartbeats sound

One people’s heart in this ground

One woman lost

Is now found

I finally met Lucas’s face; his eyes were glassy. I had never had anyone listen to one of my songs and take it so seriously and connect so deeply with it. This was my dream all along.

I closed my eyes for the final chorus, my voice an octave higher. I gave everything I had within me, belting the words out. I stopped playing the guitar and let my voice carry me through the end of the song.

I’ll never let this go

Take your hand and I’m home

I’ll never let go

Oh no

Take your hand and I’m home

With the last notes of the song I was breathless, trying to suck air down my nose, but the energy within the small trailer had drastically changed. We were charged. Even Lucas’s bare chest was heaving, and he looked at me with such intense heat, I melted on the felt seat.

“You’re singing this song,” he said, his gravelly voice throatier than I’d ever heard it before.

“You liked it?” If I were anywhere else, with anyone else, I’d be embarrassed by how breathy my voice was.

“Like it? No, I love it. You flew through that bridge, each line building on top of the other. Your voice soared. It’s incredible—you’re incredible.”

My fingers buzzed with unspent adrenaline, itching to get back to the piano to play the song the way it was meant to be played. I was feeling inspired in a way I hadn’t in a long time, like my soul was bubbling and wanted to float along the air with my melody.

For the first time since coming here, I felt…hope.

Here on this ranch, I was allowed to be me and I was given the space to figure out who that was.

I went through some tough things and came out the other side…

sort of. Thinking about getting onstage again made me feel a little light-headed.

Announcing to the world that I was back as if nothing had happened and leading strangers here, right to me, felt like I was asking for trouble.

I needed to do it, but I wasn’t doing it alone. I was returning to the stage for my family. I believed in Lucas’s dream for the ranch. I could picture all the kids he was going to help pushing wheelbarrows around, exercising the horses, and mucking the pasture.

This plan would come together, and it would be a triumph.

“What is the fastest way to spread the word and make sure people show up?” I asked.

“We hand out flyers at the stickball tournament.”

“The stickball tournament?” I asked dubiously.

Lucas responded with only the cheekiest grin that definitely did not make my heart flutter.